Where to begin with Barbra Streisand

To examine the many incarnations of Barbra Streisand is a fascinating task, which requires separating the Oscar-winning movie star from the best-selling singer, the Las Vegas queen from the Hollywood producer, the film director from the gay icon, the political activist from the Jewish diva.

Over a career that spans almost six decades, she has broken more records, boundaries and rules than most. Coming to prominence in the 1960s, she defied the family members and industry leaders who told her she was too ugly – or that her features were too Jewish – to become a star, and over time contributed to changing perceptions of contemporary gender roles and female beauty on screen.

Being proudly, self-deprecatingly Jewish – in her expression, performance, sense of humour and very Brooklyn nature – made Streisand a distinctive screen presence. With a great deal of chutzpah and incredible talent she shone through the 60s as a new kind of star for a new era of cinema culture. Where contemporaries such as Audrey Hepburn, Tippi Hedren and Catherine Deneuve were elegant, elfin waifs, Streisand was brassy, ballsy and loud. She sang, acted, directed and produced with passionate confidence.

Moving into film from her success on the Broadway stage, Streisand began starring in roles in big budget, all singing, all dancing musicals directed by golden-era stalwarts, such as Gene Kelly with Hello, Dolly! (1969) and Vincente Minnelli with On a Clear Day You Can See Forever (1970). The following decade saw her in romantic melodramas and comedic hits such as Peter Bogdanovich’s homage to the 1930s screwball era What’s Up, Doc? (1972), alongside Madeline Khan and Ryan O’Neal (whom she also starred alongside in 1979’s The Main Event). But it was with her first directorial outing, 1983’s Yentl, that the full range of Streisand’s filmic talent was revealed.

A long-gestating project that took Streisand the best part of a decade to make after acquiring the rights to Isaac Bashevis Singer’s short story, Yentl gave her total artistic control as screenwriter, producer, director and lead, and would win her a Golden Globe for best director (to date she’s the only woman to claim this award).

It’s the story of a young Orthodox Jewish woman living in turn-of-the-century Poland who, after the death of her father, decides to dress as a male in order to defy tradition and learn the Talmud (Jewish religious law). Complications arise after Yentl falls in love with her study partner Avigdor (Mandy Patinkin) and is later persuaded into marrying his fiancé Hadass (Amy Irving).

Although Yentl classifies as a musical, there are no song-and-dance set pieces – unlike the Broadway adaptations of Streisand’s earlier career. Instead, Yentl alone conveys her feelings through the heart-swelling, award-winning songs of Michel Legrand. It’s impossible not to be moved by her tender vulnerability as she sings ‘Papa, Can You Hear Me?’ alone and grief-stricken in the woods.

While the subject matter had initially been turned down by producers for its Jewish trappings, Streisand’s impassioned and empathetic treatment of the themes of family, love, loss and the overcoming of adversity ensured it was a commercial and critical hit.

Return to the very beginning of Streisand’s film career with her first on-screen role, in William Wyler’s tragic New York-set musical Funny Girl (1968). Streisand was already a successful singer when she announced herself to Hollywood with a sly “Hello, gorgeous” to her mirrored reflection, playing Ziegfeld Follies star Fanny Brice. This was a role she’d played on Broadway, and she’d win her first Oscar in the film version, starring alongside Omar Sharif (as Fanny’s gambling addicted love interest Nick Arnstein) in a teaming that generated huge sexual tension both in front of and behind the camera.

One of Streisand’s finest non-musical performances can be seen in Sydney Pollack’s epic romance The Way We Were (1973) – though she did get to sing on the Oscar-winning title track. Streisand’s Jewish Marxist Katie Morosky and Robert Redford’s blithely WASPY Hubbell Gardiner are attracted opposites in a decade-spanning examination of American social classes. It makes for an interesting reversal of the oft-repeated narrative trope – when the all American girl falls for the neurotic Jewish guy (see Annie Hall, When Harry Met Sally). These two lead performances carry the film’s melancholic impact, building to a denouement that’s just as heartbreaking half a century later.

After Yentl, eight years followed before Streisand directed again. This was with the 1991 family drama The Prince of Tides. Alongside Nick Nolte’s emotionally haunted narrator Tom, Streisand plays a New York therapist who has been helping his suicidal sister. They eventually meet and she begins to pick apart the siblings’ troubled past as they begin a tense, romantic affair. Adapted from Pat Conroy’s popular novel, the film received seven Oscar nominations (although, notably, none for directing) but won nothing. Even so, its success showed Streisand’s directorial sensitivity undiminished.

Although the 1976 version of A Star Is Born was a huge hit and won Streisand another Oscar for the hit song ‘Evergreen’, it’s perhaps the least convincing of the four film versions to date. Following the Hollywood-set melodramas of 1937 and 1954, it was the first to transpose this tragic showbiz tale from the film industry to the music business, but Streisand lacked authenticity as the up-and-coming ingénue, and there’s little spark between her and co-star (and reportedly ex-lover) Kris Kristofferson.

Streisand’s last film as director so far, The Mirror Has Two Faces (1996), saw her star alongside Jeff Bridges and Lauren Bacall in a romantic comedy that misses the emotional resonance of her previous work behind the camera, and opened to middling-to-savage reviews. If her as-yet-to-be-finalised project to film the love story between the New York photographer Margaret Bourke-White and writer Erskine Caldwell comes to fruition, it will be an intriguing return to the director’s chair.