Now, Voyager review – Bette Davis at the height of her powers

A Hollywood icon in every sense of the word, Bette Davis was an actor capable of summoning wit, charisma, and intensity all in a single line of dialogue. Exhibiting the qualities that made her such a commanding screen presence, Irving Rapper’s Now, Voyager – newly restored and now in cinemas courtesy of the BFI – is a star vehicle that endures beyond its original standing as a “women’s picture” thanks to its stunning depiction of a person coming to understand who they really are.

Here is a classic film with a great deal of universal appeal, with themes ranging from self-discovery, to building trusting and robust relationships. It's all subtly interwoven into Davis' magnetic portrait of a woman in crisis, and through the subtle complexities of Casey Robinson’s adapted screenplay (based on the source novel by Olive Higgins Prouty).

Now, Voyager follows the affluent Charlotte Vale (Bette Davis), stunted after having grown up under the heel of her puritanical and controlling mother (Gladys Cooper), and who remains convinced of her own unworthiness until a kindly psychiatrist, Dr. Jaquith (Claude Rains), gives her the confidence to set out on a restorative South American cruise.

The monumental moment leads Charlotte onto a ship and into the company of another solo traveller, Jerry, played by Paul Henreid. Although he's married, they embark on a friendship and somewhat thwarted love affair, which helps Charlotte break free of her mother’s grip and discover a sense of self that's always been lacking.

Produced at the peak of Davis’ stardom at Warner Bros., the dominating actress transforms effortlessly between an initially shy and timid spinster into a woman filled with a verve for life and all its wonders. She flourishes with independence as the film gains momentum and, with each scene, finds noble strength to care for others.

The visual transformation owes a great deal to Davis’ dexterous acting ability, though she is aided by a good number of flowing gowns and lavish hats, conjured by the delicate touches of costume designer Orry-Kelly, who Davis frequently collaborated with across her entire career. These two forces culminate through the stark juxtaposition of costumes before and after the defining cruise. Specifically, Kelly’s costumes play with literal veils, an extended visual metaphor of the character’s name and her journey of self-discovery.

Unlike many productions of the era, Now, Voyager places a great deal of attention towards location shooting, creating its memorable images far away from the usual Hollywood sound stages, what with their artificial lighting and fake trees. As a result, the truest sense of exploration comes to the forefront – the kind that shaky backdrops on studio lots rarely afford.

As in Prouty’s original novel, the film does not shy away from melodrama, yet still places a women’s authority central to proceedings, notably echoed in the film's last line. The deliverance of the film’s final line (not to be spoiled here) could have been played with a straight romantic quality, yet in Davis’ vivid delivery a whole array of feminist themes are unearthed, placing an emphasis on women caring and supporting one another outside of a purely patriarchal family structure.

Although the film was originally intended towards a female audience, Now, Voyager avoids cliche and sentimentality about a woman's place in the world and fully transcends its origins. What emerges is a universal message about the resilience of the human condition – a timeless expedition of self-discovery with an enduring lead performance from a dedicated actor working at the height of her powers.

Now, Voyager is now showing in select UK cinemas.