I have nothing to add to the reams of commentary on the sad passing of Jean Simmons, only to say that she has, eerily, been on my mind recently. A few months ago, I saw her rather touching final performance in “Shadows in the Sun,” a small British film written by a friend and former teacher of mine, and was struck by how elegantly that china-doll face had aged.
And only last month, I rewatched Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s undervalued “Guys and Dolls” after unearthing it in a bargain bin, and delighted in the knowing silliness of her Golden Globe-winning turn — as fine an Ophelia as she made opposite Olivier’s Hamlet, there’s an argument to be made for the “dolce de leche” sequence (embedded after the cut) as her best screen work. For sheer iconic value, however, what can top her appearance, aged just 17, in Powell and Pressburger’s peerlessly beautiful “Black Narcissus?”
