The Anniversary (1968)

A Gothic Comedy with a Venomous Bite

The Anniversary (1968) is a darkly comic, offbeat British film that delivers a masterclass in screen villainy through a deliciously wicked performance by Bette Davis. Adapted from the play by Bill MacIlwraith, the film blends elements of domestic drama, grotesque comedy, and psychological torment. It may not be as widely remembered as Davis's earlier work, but it occupies a special place in the canon of post war British cinema and in the arc of Davis's late career—a reminder that even in her later years, she could command the screen with a mix of grandeur, malice, and campy flair.

Set largely in one location and structured like a stage play (which it originally was), The Anniversary is a venom-laced family gathering centred on a domineering matriarch and her hapless sons. Though the film’s theatrical origins are plain, director Roy Ward Baker manages to maintain visual interest while preserving the claustrophobic tension that makes the story tick. The result is a delightfully nasty little chamber piece where familial resentment boils over in acerbic dialogue and shocking revelations.

Plot Overview: A Family in the Grip of Tyranny

The story unfolds in a single day, as Mrs. Taggart (Bette Davis), a widowed matriarch, gathers her three adult sons to celebrate the annual commemoration of her long-deceased husband's death—the anniversary. The occasion is not a sentimental gathering but a tradition of psychological warfare. Each son arrives bearing secrets and plans, which Mrs. Taggart gleefully dismantles with her trademark cruelty and cunning.

Terry (Jack Hedley) is a successful builder who’s brought along his fiancée, Shirley (Sheila Hancock), hoping to finally escape his mother’s clutches.

Henry (James Cossins) is a meek, browbeaten man with five children, and a cross-dressing fetish he’s desperate to keep hidden.

Tom (Christian Roberts) is the youngest, recently returned from Canada with rebellious aspirations and a more independent attitude.

Over the course of the evening, Mrs. Taggart systematically undermines all of her sons’ ambitions and exposes their vulnerabilities, preserving her psychological dominance over the fractured family unit.

Bette Davis: Monstrous, Magnetic, and Magnificent

At the core of The Anniversary is Bette Davis, who delivers one of her late-career triumphs. Wearing a black eye patch (a flamboyant affectation never explained), she stalks through the film like a predatory cat, purring one moment and hissing the next. It’s a performance that owes something to her turn in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962) but is more subdued, more precise, and even more toxic in its restraint.

Davis relishes every line of Bill MacIlwraith’s acid dialogue. Her Mrs. Taggart is part tyrant, part manipulative clown, with shades of both King Lear and Medea. She mocks her sons, belittles their partners, and clings to the patriarchal legacy of her dead husband—using it not out of love or grief but as a weapon of control.

There is a touch of grotesque camp in Davis’s performance, but it never tips into parody. Her Mrs. Taggart is a woman who has spent her life building a fortress of control, and she defends it with merciless precision. Davis is clearly having fun with the role, and it’s impossible not to be drawn into her malevolent charisma.

Supporting Cast: Strong Foils and Emotional Punching Bags

While Bette Davis is unquestionably the star, the supporting cast holds its own, particularly Sheila Hancock as Shirley. She gives perhaps the most layered performance among the supporting players, starting as a seemingly timid fiancée but gradually revealing her own strength and capacity for confrontation.

Jack Hedley and James Cossins do fine work as browbeaten sons whose adult lives have been stunted by maternal interference. Cossins, in particular, brings tragicomic energy to his portrayal of Henry, the most psychologically damaged of the siblings. His secret—revealed in a disturbingly intimate scene—is handled with both absurdity and pathos.

Christian Roberts is given less to do as the youngest son, but his character serves as a narrative foil—a glimpse of what the other two might have been if not so thoroughly warped by their mother’s influence.

Direction and Style: Theater Roots with Cinematic Flair

Roy Ward Baker, best known for horror and thriller fare like Quatermass and the Pit and A Night to Remember, brings a sure hand to the direction. He avoids the temptation to open the play up too much and instead emphasizes the theatricality of the material, using the single-location setting to foster claustrophobia and tension. The result feels appropriately stage-bound but never static.

The camera work makes effective use of close-ups, capturing every arch of Davis’s brow and every flicker of dread on her sons’ faces. Lighting is used to cast literal and symbolic shadows across the Taggart home, reinforcing the sense that something sinister lurks beneath the bourgeois respectability.

The eye patch worn by Davis is emblematic of the film’s tone—macabre, unexplained, and weirdly iconic. It tells us everything we need to know about Mrs. Taggart: she sees everything, controls everything, and dares anyone to question her.

Themes: Tyranny, Masculinity, and the Rot of Family Traditions

The Anniversary is as much a psychological thriller as a black comedy, and its central theme is the corrosive power of familial control. Mrs. Taggart represents a warped matriarchal force, preserving tradition at the cost of emotional well-being. Her sons are infantilized, emasculated, and emotionally paralyzed by her influence.

In another era, Mrs. Taggart might have been portrayed as a tragic figure, a woman forced to dominate a male world. But here, she is unequivocally the villain—shrewd, self-serving, and manipulative. And yet she’s also oddly compelling, even sympathetic in brief flashes. The film avoids simple binaries, instead drawing its power from the uneasy blend of comedy and cruelty.

The film also touches on themes of masculinity in crisis, repression (especially sexual repression), and the brittleness of inherited legacies. It is a movie about men who never fully grew up and a woman who made sure they couldn’t.

Reception and Legacy

Upon its release in 1968, The Anniversary received mixed to positive reviews, largely centring on Bette Davis’s commanding performance. British critics praised the sharpness of the script and the energy of the ensemble cast, while some American reviewers found the tone too grotesque and theatrical.

Over time, however, the film has gained cult admiration, especially among fans of British black comedy and late-career Bette Davis. While it never reached the iconic status of Baby Jane, The Anniversary stands as a sharp, satirical chamber piece and a gem of post war British cinema. It has also been appreciated through feminist and psychoanalytic readings, offering much to unpack beneath its wicked wit.

Final Verdict: A Wicked Delight

The Anniversary is a taut, twisted family drama dressed up as a dark comedy—a film that delights in cruelty but never loses its intelligence. Anchored by a legendary performance from Bette Davis, it offers a potent mix of humour, discomfort, and psychological horror. It may not be for all tastes—its theatrical origins and venomous tone are unapologetically front and centre—but for those who enjoy chamber dramas laced with acid, it’s a must-watch.

This is Bette Davis as grand guignol matriarch, and it’s a glorious spectacle.

Highlight: Bette Davis’s cutting monologues and the unsettling dinner table confrontation.

Watch if you like: What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, The Lion in Winter, Arsenic and Old Lace, or darkly comic family dramas with theatrical flair.