Faye Dunaway reveals hidden bipolar disorder in new HBO documentary
Itâs described as maybe the greatest Hollywood photo ever taken. There is Faye Dunaway sprawled on a chair next to the Beverly Hills Hotel swimming pool the morning after her Oscar win. Newspapers headlining the awards show are strewn near a table thatâs presided over by her gleaming golden statuette. But the actress' gaze at the ultimate trophy seems disillusioned as the reality of it hits her.
âWhat I love is that âIs that all there is?â was kind of the theme to it,â says the ferociously talented legend, who is the subject of a documentary that debuts at 8 p.m. ET/PT Saturday on HBO (and will be available for streaming on Max).
âFayeâ is a candid, affectionate portrait of a woman who reigned on the big screen from the late 1960s to the middle of the 1970s, when American movies caught up to the turmoil and tumult of the modern world.
Join our Watch Party!Sign up to receive USA TODAY's movie and TV recommendations right in your inbox
If youâre a GenXer, you may recognize Dunaway, now 83, and recall one or two of her films, perhaps the 1981 camp classic âMommie Dearest,â the biopic about Joan Crawford that nearly destroyed her career. Long before the technology existed, the image of Dunaway as Crawford screaming, âNo wire hangers!â at her adopted daughter was meme-worthy.
Need a break? Play the USA TODAY Daily Crossword Puzzle.
Those in the Gen Z range probably are unfamiliar with Dunaway, which makes the HBO doc a remarkable opportunity to introduce the current generation to a complex artist who was often labeled as difficult. As âFayeâ sensitively reveals, Dunaway wasnât just battling the usual show business sexism against independent women. She was struggling with bipolar disorder at the time she was achieving greatness.
Directed by Laurent Bouzereau, âFayeâ features his extensive interviews with Dunaway, along with film clips, archival footage and illuminating interviews with her son, Liam Dunaway OâNeill, and close friend Sharon Stone, among others.
It traces how Dorothy Faye Dunaway grew up with an alcoholic father and a mother who eventually divorced him and raised her alone in Florida, where pretty Southern girls with ambitions of performing pursued beauty queen titles. After Dunaway won a âsweetheart of Sigma Chiâ contest while attending the University of Florida, she transferred to Boston University and then landed in a Lincoln Center repertory theater led by director Elia Kazan.
Noticed for her acclaimed off-Broadway acting in 1965âs âHoganâs Goat,â Dunaway was cast opposite Warren Beatty in 1967âs âBonnie and Clyde,â the cultural inflection point that helped create New Hollywood with its violence, humor, sense of anguish and willingness to depict subjects like sexual impotence. She became an overnight star, plus a fashion trendsetter for her striking costumes (designed by Theadora Van Runkle) as one-half of the famous bank-robbing duo from the Depression era.
In an early interview around that time, Dunaway said âsuccess is freedom,â a truism that was only partly true for the female population in cinema. She would go on to deliver brilliant performances in classics like 1968âs sexy caper âThe Thomas Crown Affairâ with Steve McQueen, 1974âs bleak neo-noir âChinatownâ with Jack Nicholson and 1976âs scathing satire âNetwork.â Her role as a brittle TV executive with a prescient knack for reality TV won her the best actress Oscar.
Looking for reliable streaming options?Check out USA TODAY Home Internet for broadband service plans in your area.
In "Faye," Dunaway addresses the double standards of filmmaking in that era, when wanting more control over your projects and having strong opinions were accepted and encouraged for men, but treated as drawbacks for women. She discusses the notorious anecdote about her walking off the set when âChinatownâ director Roman Polanski (who later pleaded guilty to unlawful intercourse with a minor and fled America) yanked a stray hair from her head that was interfering with a shot.
Afterward, she says, Nicholson nicknamed her the dreaded Dunaway, or âDread,â much to her delight.
The pinnacle of Dunawayâs daring as an uncompromising actress is âNetwork.â Although it is remembered for Peter Finchâs âIâm mad as hellâ speech as troubled TV anchor Howard Beale, it also must be recognized for Dunawayâs steely commitment to playing Diana Christensen, a woman dominating an industry run by men. âAll I want out of life is a 20 share and a 30 rating,â says Dunaway as Diana, and she means it. Thereâs no love in this character, no hidden empathy or tenderness that surfaces late in the story. Dunaway is magnetic, but completely unsympathetic as Diana, never taking an easy route that might have won her some sympathy.
Once âMommie Dearestâ was declared a disaster by critics (the documentary argues it needed a director who would have toned down its midnight movie aspects), Dunaway struggled to regain her momentum. Always serious about her craft, she kept taking chances in smaller movies. She played an unglamorous alcoholic in 1987âs âBarflyâ and won a Golden Globe for playing modeling agency founder Wilhelmina Cooper opposite a young Angelina Jolie in HBO's âGia.â
"Faye" is at its most sensitive regarding the revelations about Dunawayâs mental health issues. The frankest observations come from Dunaway herself, who, during a sequence that documents her micromanaging tendencies, says: âSo now you see what it is about me. Not easy.â
Dunaway opens up about her struggles with manic depression and alcoholism, particularly in terms of how her bipolar disorder has impacted life behind and in front of the cameras. She describes how she is happier and healthier thanks to medication and treatment.
âI think you have to ask yourself this question: If she wasnât in so much pain, would she have been that good? Which then, in turn, wouldnât have made her be able to touch people acting,â her son says. âYouâve got to take the good with the bad. Thatâs just life.â
It takes guts to go the places that Dunaway did emotionally in her movies, but it requires even more to sustain a full personal life while juggling the demands she had to meet. âFayeâ is never more compelling than when it examines how Dunaway adopted a son with her then-husband, photographer Terry OâNeill (who took her famous Oscar photo) and began devoting herself to motherhood at roughly the same time she was taking on a job that required her to portray the abusive parent of an adopted daughter in âMommie Dearest.â
As the documentary nears its conclusion, Dunaway is shown at Cannes Film Festival in 2011, the year she was chosen as the face of the festival. As photographers snap away, Faye, the mega-star, snaps into gear, exuding her full charisma as a personality.
Watching it on a TV screen, âFayeâ demonstrates that Dunawayâs talent radiates on any screen: big, small or pocket-sized smartphone. As author and critic Mark Harris says in capturing her essential quality. âFaye Dunaway in one word: undismissible.â