I'm Not Patty

Suffragette City (Irene Dunne as Ann Vickers)

2012-01-21T17:54:00.000-08:00

As 1933's Ann Vickers begins, our heroine is a young woman with a passion for social reform, 'Head Resident' at a settlement house and although pursued by quite a few young men, she answers to a higher calling. As her aristocratic friend Malvina tells one of her boyfriends:

"Ann has a passion for helping people. She's going to make the world over if it takes all winter!"

(YES! Malvina is played by one of the all-time great character actresses, Edna May Oliver. Horse-faced, sensible and a tower of strength beneath the matronly facade, she enriched countless films throughout her long career, and she was even famous enough to appear in cartoons of the time. Her performance is part of what makes her and Ann's friendship so special in this movie)

But back to Ann Vickers: one night, a handsome stranger walks up to her at a party...

Lafe (Bruce Cabot) is a young officer who's about to ship out in about two weeks to fight in Europe (the film begins during WWI), He's got big ears, a dopey expression on his face, but he's also got some serious bedroom eyes.

They get acquainted and over the course of the nest week he learns more about her (including the fact that she was arrested while protesting for women's right to vote). You can guess what ultimately happens, right before he leaves for basic...

And--what happens.

"There's something I must tell you..."

Suddenly, Lafe doesn't want to respond to her letters.

And then, while out at dinner with Malvina, she sees him.

Leaving hurriedly, she tells her friend:

"It's amazing--how just a few words with him freed me. I mean he freed me spiritually, mentally--and physically! Well, it's something to know you've been a darn fool..."

"What are you going to do about...?" Obliquely referring to Ann's 'condition', Malvina invites her to her country estate, and after they arrive, the two friends have an amazing conversation about the never-to-be-born baby.

"I've named her, too. None of the meaningless names they use today. A hundred years ago names meant something: Faith. Hope. Charity. Patience."

"Dumb patience, dull hope and hang-jawed faith; those were the regulation female virtues then."

"I've found a new modern-day virtue to name my daughter...'Pride'. Pride of life, of love, of work. Pride of being a woman. Those will be her virtues! If only she hadn't...died."

Discussing her up-coming job at a prison, while still thinking about Lafe: "If I want a man I must lure. Flatter. Be impressed by all he says or does...no, Copperhead Gap might be terrible, but I won't have to use woman's wiles on it!"

Beginning her new job at the prison, she learns pretty quickly that those in charge consider her little more than an interfering 'do-gooder'.

"Come on sister, maybe you'll figure it out, even if you did waste all that time studying sociology!"

Ushered into her new job, Ann watches a female inmate start a riot in the prison...

...with the inevitable result.

When Ann later protests the whipping of another inmate she's told to quit, only to refuse, whereupon she gets set up-and by one of the cons, yet!

Called to assist a sick man in the prison, she is photographed in a compromising position...

"Now I guess you'll resign, Miss Vickers, or shall I send that picture to the press...?"

Resolutely, she demands: "Will you take those girls out of the dark cell?"

The prison boss agrees, laughingly adding:"We don't give two hoops what you do now!"
Cut to:

(and even respected Judge Bernard Dolphin approves of her sensational expose of the prison system!)

When Ann's named doctor in her new position, she admits she's "proud as punch!"

Malvina calls and invites her to a party to celebrate her success:

"No, no doctors will be invited, just some of the...um...'literati' ".

(she's up to something, I swear)

Ann, meanwhile, checks up on a new prisoner (with the hilarious name Kitty Cognac), who turns out to be one of the people who betrayed her previously.

"Well, if it isn't my old school mate from Copperhead!"

Turns out Judge Dolphin sent her there, which she attributes to Ann's influence, although actually, Ms. Vickers doesn't know him personally.

"He said you were the one person on Earth who could make a decent citizen out of me!"

Ann wastes no time, and takes her out of solitary.

"We'll have to get you off the 'snow' cold-turkey" (does that mean what I think it does?)

"Oh, go to blazes, will ya?!"

But Ann refuses to give up hope for this deplorable creature.

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Later on, at Malvina's party, she laughingly tells an aquaintance: "Show some respect--I'm a PH.D.!" His drunk response?

"I'm an SOB!" (again, did he really say that in a 1933 movie???)

"Who's that man over there?"

"That is Judge Bernard Dolphin. He's said to be a tremendous success with all the ladies--except his wife!"

As she finds out, his wife is always "over in Europe" chasing gigolos, so apparently they have 'an understanding' (at this point my head is spinning, trying to follow all the rules of logic demanded by censorship of the time) but anyway, he's an okay guy.

"Thank you."

"May I ?"

They chat/flirt a bit and there's some real chemistry there (he may not be as attractive as she, but intellectually they're a good match, plus they make each other laugh!). They leave the party together and go for a drive:

"Would you like to see my place out in the country? I've got some cold turkey in the icebox."

Getting to know one another better, he confides that he's facing some legal difficulties of his own but Ann's certain he'll come out alright.

Since it's late, he offers her a ride home or his guest room ("The door locks") as she spots a portrait of his wife.

"I'm in favor of divorce, but Mona isn't, as yet...Ann, do you really like me?"

"Yes."

Unsurprisingly, they begin seeing each other, though they have to be discreet. One of the cutest moments in the movie is when he pays a surprise "official" visit to her office, only to embrace her as soon as the secretary walks out the door! And later, when he's leaving, he formally says "Goodbye, Miss Vickers", with a wink

and she stoically replies "Goodbye, Judge Dolphin".

As time passes, they begin to realize how much they love each other and one night, he announces:

"Ann, I've decided to ask my wife for a divorce...and if she doesn't agree, let's just 'git'! I've got enough money for two families."

Ann is hesitant about leaving her career, which she loves (and which she is clearly shown to be very capable at). But there's more...

"Have I ever told you that I've always wanted a daughter?"

( this is genuinely touching, as she's obviously thinking of her lost daughter, Pride).

He's happy with the idea of having children and tells her so, and she has a surprise for him...

He's as thrilled with the news as she is, laughing:

"Say, if we'd a met ten years ago, we'd have six of 'em, all hellions!" Cut to:

"Are you sorry he wasn't a girl?" and she happily responds, "Nonsense, I've always wanted a boy."

Back at work, Ann is looking through the classifieds for a house for her new family when she spots this:

It seems he's been accused of insider trading. As her chatty secretary relates: "He's probably the kind of man you've spent your career fighting!"

Ann shows up for the trial (though she sits at the back)

and suddenly, during a break in the proceedings, Barnie's wife appears!

"I hope you don't expect me to show up in that awful court, she says haughtily, adding that if he's convicted, "I shall be disgraced!"

Ironically, now she seems a lot more willing to dump him, since he no longer will be the pillar of society she married. Back in the courtroom, the verdict is...

GUILTY!

6 years in Fielding Penitentiary at hard labor.

And it just gets worse from then on. Based on her appearance at the trial, Ann is accused of immorality and her job is jeopardized.

You must understand, Miss Vickers, that the board has no criticism of your job performance."

"You don't understand, Miss Vickers, that the head of a woman's reformatory must be above reproach!"

"How can you consistently preach morality?"

"I'm afraid consistency has never been one of my virtues."

And with that, she resigns. But later she goes to visit an old boyfriend (himself now a judge) and the two catch up, he admitting he's now divorced and wishing he'd married her,

but Ann sets him straight:

"Friends we were and friends we always will be, but not lovers." She asks him an important favor.

"I want to get a pardon for Judge Bernard Dolphin!"He refuses, lecturing her about her "lapsed ethics":

"...something I shouldn't have to remind you of!"

"The trouble with you is--you've never been red-blooded enough to be tempted by anything!" She leaves.

She visits her imprisoned lover, and after getting reacquainted,

he asks her how their son is doing. Little Matt is doing well, and she's doing ok herself, making a living writing exposes of prison life for magazines.

He tells her his wife Mona is finally giving him a divorce.

(this guy looks so much like Abraham Lincoln to me!)

Her response:

"We'll be waiting for you."

He's led away, back to his prison cell...

Now living in a hell-hole in a crummy neighborhood, Ann continues to write magazine articles for a living during the next three years, when she has an surprising visitor...

"The governor pardoned me today."

"You're out of prison now--we're both out of prison now!"

Whereupon Matt toddles out of his room and asks Barnie:

"Who are you?"

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Well, it's about time--finally I've seen Ann Vickers! I've been reading about it forever (at least 10 years) and the consensus seems to be it's a flawed but fascinating film. I'd add that it knocked me silly (well, until the last 5 minutes or so, when suddenly it turns conventional) and it's one of the most daring Old-School Hollywood films I've seen in a long time. Maybe 'audacious' is a better word. Although obviously censorship (a necessary evil of the time) required changes in the script, for the most part the film remains true to the spirit of the original book. In the movie, as in the original novel, Ann mourns the rest of her life for her aborted daughter Pride, even while realizing there was no other route she could take. As blisteringly honest as some of the themes in Ann Vickers are, never does one feel 'clobbered' over the head with politics or viewpoints. This is the story of one woman, and all of her decisions are organic to her own character and germane to the story being told.

Walter Huston is terrific here as the judge (I always think of him as Reverend Davidson tormenting poor little Joan Crawford in Rain) but the acting honors belong to Irene.

She makes it clear that, although Ann loves her work and is passionate about it, her self-respect and compassion come from inside her, that they're not dependent on what she does for a living. Dunne is radiant here, lit from within (and she gets to look pretty terrific too, with some very 'Adrian-ey' outfits!)

This is the second of my Christmas present DVD's I've had a chance to watch (the first was my beloved Della!) and frankly, I'm in love with this movie. It will never be my favorite Irene Dunne film (that honor goes to I Remember Mama, one of the few autobiographical films I've ever seen that completely lives up to the book it's based upon), but Ann Vickers gently, thoughtfully points out that we all have to make choices in life, and that fighting the good fight is always the way to go.

Incidentally, there's a cute anecdote over on The Irene Dunne Project about this film. Early on there's an adorably nerdy looking guy at the dance, a hopeless wallflower who can't get up the nerve to ask Ann to dance. All he can do is stare at her longingly...

It's the director, John Cromwell!

Strait-Jacket, Part 5 (spoilers)

2012-01-08T00:05:00.000-08:00

Just got home to a sweet Christmas card from a good friend, alerting me he finally got a chance to watch Strait-Jacket; I've been holding off posting about it because I didn't want to give away the plotline. But now the verdict is in: "It was a hoot!" (and if you know this guy, well, that's high praise indeed!)

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Last time we checked in on Lucy Harbin, she was attempting to fit into the real world after having been locked up for twenty years for murder.

Let's just say, she's having a rough time adjusting...

...although she's trying her best, despite her family's suspicions, and her own odd behaviors.

Carol realizes that her mother is insecure because of her faded appearance and takes her into town.

Carol gets her all dolled up!

These are genuinely fun moments, and provide some real levity to the film.

A makeover-YES!

Yet there's unsettling hints that neither can escape the past...

But just then--

Lucy starts hearing voices.

and later that night has a nightmare.

Although her screams wake up the entire house, Lucy realizes that,

"It must have been a dream-yeah, it must have been a nightmare."

And (as if things aren't bad enough) the next morning, Kraus (the dull-witted farm hand) mocks her while doing his chores:

"Wanna help?"

Meanwhile, Carol also has to contend with with her fiance Michaels' haughty, snotty (and wealthy) parents,

who live in an enormous mansion and who "graciously" grill her about her mother.

Although Carol evades their questions, it's clear she's hiding something, and when she and Michael drive off to see a movie ("something nice and bloody!") she mopes about keeping her mothers homocidal past under wraps, but as he explains:

She invites him over to meet mom the next day.

Lord.

On the big day, Lucy is clearly nervous, and probably has a few too many highalls to take the edge off.

It kind of turns into the worst party ever.

Lucy, inebriated and insecure, sees Michael and inexplicably flips into full-on vamp mode:

"Well! You didn't tell me he was that good-looking!"

As the record player positively BLASTS the old standard 'There Goes That Song Again', the rejuvenated 1944 Lucy makes her move:

"I wouldn't want my litle girl to think I was trying to take her man away from her..."

The insanity's interrupted when the doctor from Lucy's former institution phones up to say he's arriving shortly, to check up on her.

This puts a damper on the festivities, to put it mildly, and the party breaks up shortly thereafter.

When Dr. Anderson shows up, Lucy's withdrawn and sullen, though she defiantly pulls off the most amazing stunt I've ever seen.

She puts on a brave face when he asks her how she's been doing.

"When I look in the mirror, it's hard to believe twenty years have passed!"

But the meeting degenerates into a shouting match and Lucy races out of the house, fearing she's going to be put back in the asylum.

The doctor wanders around the farm until he finds Carol's art studio and gently tells her that, based on Lucy's behavior, he's going to take her back to the "sanitorium".

He walks back outside and wanders around awhile,

then he hears the distinctive sounds of Lucy's jingling bracelets, inside one of the outbuildings, and goes inside to investigate.

(this is pretty shocking, because the doctor was actually one of the nicer characters, and seemed genuinely concerned for Lucy)

Later, as night is falling, Carol's looking for her mom and finds her sitting in the dark. To her repeated, increasingly anxious questioning about where the doctor is, Lucy (now back in little old lady guise) only responds blankly:

"The doctor's gone."

Carol has a sick apprehension of what's happened and runs out and hides the doctors car in the barn.

Kraus watches from the shadows.

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Sometimes I feel like I ramble on too much about this movie, but as I've said before, sometimes it's more rewarding to watch some of Joan Crawford's "lesser" films (like The Shining Hour or This Woman Is Dangerous) because it puts into perspective what a truly great actress she was. Throughout her career, Crawford had the opportunity to work with the best of the best in the industry (indeed, when she left MGM for Warner Brothers, she had contractual control over all aspects of her films, from directors and writers to costars and costumers) but even waaayyy late in the game, her will was pretty much law on the set, and even in a minor "B" movie like Strait-Jacket, she called the shots.

Far more than (over-rated, in my opinion) directors like Michael Curtiz, Nicholas Ray or Robert Aldrich,

she was a true auteur.

As for myself though, I just like looking at "the face" and figuring out which pictures to use for each post.

(and to my buddy, I'm glad you liked Strait-Jacket-hope you're feeling better!)

Joan Crawford in Della (1964)

2011-12-24T16:20:00.000-08:00

Della Chappell is a fabulously wealthy hermit who lives reclusively, in her luxuriously appointed mansion, with her daughter Jenny (played by Diane Baker). Della's sort of a local legend/mystery. Neither she nor her daughter are ever seen in Royal Bay,CA and both seem to stay up all night and sleep the days away at their mysterious estate.

A lawyer, Barnie Stafford, drives out to the Chappell estate, trying to convince Della to sell some of her substantial local real estate to a corporation.

He arrives, as instructed, late at night.

Della makes a spectacular entrance,

and she sizes him up, circling like a panther...

Although she seems disinclined to sell any of her land:

"I'm not exactly in need of funds, Mr. Stafford!"

(Joan Crawford wears her own jewels throughout the film)
Still, she invites him to stay a few days and try his best to convince her, although she insists all negotiations occur only after nightfall.

Later that night, Stafford meets Jenny and chemistry rears its head.

Jenny's as creepy and enigmatic as Della,

but lawyer Barney figures that's because she's repressed and isolated by her mother.

Of course, mom notices the mutual attraction...

Later, in a seriously eerie scene, he finds her on the lawn in a swingset in the middle of the night

(the photography in this film is frequently spectacular!)

and the two get to know one another better.

Barnie's ambitious but fairly idealistic and Jenny is sensitive and romantic, if a little bit weird (the implication is that her mother made her that way).

Meanwhile, Mama Chappell is watching cautiously...

Barney and Jenny then take an innocent dip in the pool, but Jenny comes on a bit strong:

and Barney begins to suspect that maybe this family is more dysfunctional than he previously thought.

Sure, Jenny's a troubled young woman, but on the other hand she is inexplicably hostile to her mother, who always seems to be kind to her (if a bit possessive and controlling).

Clearly the two are locked in a love/hate relationship. Jenny blames her mother for "whatever" is wrong with her, and Della blames herself, too.

Jenny grows more and more attached to Barnie, however, to the point of paying surprise visits to him in the middle of the night.

Um, borderline creepy.

She wakes him with a lit cigarette (seriously, if she were a dude, I'd marry her for that!)

But when he opens the drapes to let in the rising sun, Jenny seems to overreact just a bit...

She's a vampire!

(not really, but that would have been amazing!)

She races blindly from the room just as Della shows up and gets the wrong idea.

She tells Barnie off:

"You're a fine strutting animal...and that's all you'll ever be!"

Worried, she checks on Jenny, who taunts her mother: "I'm sick of this house--and I'm sick of you!"

Wait for it...

Here it comes...

Whap!

Needless to say, Della doesn't sell her land to the corporation.

But after some time has passed, upon reflection,

Ms. Chappell makes the unprecedented gesture of going into town,

and the good citizens of Royal Bay are stunned to see the local legend walking amongst them.

Della shows up at Staffords's law office,

and her mildly contemptuous treatment of the friendly secretary is worth the price of admission.

"May I have your name?"

"Mrs. Della Chappell."

When the secretary looks at her dumbfounded, she adds sweetly:

"Do you want me to spell it?"

Although told there's no appointment been made, Della smoothly responds that she's sure Mr. Stafford will make time for her. As indeed he does.

She's more friendly now and tries to convince Barnie to join her platoon of legal representatives, offering him some major dough, but he's still sore, believing she's ruining her daughters life by holding her prisoner.

He tells her he's going to take Jenny away from that "hot-house" life, back at the mansion

In fact, right in front of her, he calls his secretary to dig up all the dirt she can find on Miss Della Chappell.

Della, coldly enraged:

"I have the power to make you a rich man or a hopeless one!"

But later on that day, she goes to visit Barnie's father, a well-respected businessman in town.

Evidentally, they're long-time friends (there's a genuine chemistry between the two, almost leading one to wonder if, back in the day, maybe they used to...)

But Della gets right to the point.

She admits she's made mistakes in raising her daughter, and in inviting Barnie into her home.

But when the Stafford paterfamilias asks what she plans to do to his son if he contimues to dig around in her family background, she responds calmly:

"Destroy him, if necessary.You've known me a long time, Hugh...You know I mean what I say."

Two tough parents, respectful of one another yet protective of their children. Things seem to be at an impasse, and she leaves.

But when Della arrives home,

she sees another car outside,

and inside she hears Barnie and Jenny whispering...

He convinces her to leave, once and for all,

and when Mom (after making another spectacular entrance)

challenges Jenny to leave, she defiantly attempts to do so.

But something weird happens when she approaches the threshold...

"I-can't!"

She makes a game effort, but when Stafford urges her forward, she finally screams at him:

"I can't! How many times do I have to tell you!"

He sadly leaves, and Della attempts to cheer Jenny up with a bit of jewelry.

"It's not so bad, is it..? The two of us, alone here together...?"

Jenny's bleak expression is her only response.

Meanwhile, Barney-pissed and confused-talks it out with his dad, who has this to say:

"Jenny can't leave, but not because of her mother. A long time ago, Della locked herself in that prison, to share it with her daughter."

Although he doesn't really understand what's going on, at least Barnie finally understands that Jenny's mom isn't the bad guy.

When he goes to hash it out with Della the next day, all the pieces fall into place.

She's been testing him, trying to see if he's trustworthy, if he'll keep the family secrets and look after her daughter.

"To see if I could trust you-with Jenny's life."

"I didn't want to hurt Jenny, I only wanted to help her." He turns to leave,

whereupon Della Chappell utters a word she's unaccustomed to speaking:

"Please?"

After a pause:

"Jenny's in love with you."

"My daughter has a certain skin condition...The nicest way to say it is, she's sensitive to the Sun. In time, exposure to the Sun will kill her."

"Kill her?"

"There's no treatment. None. Except to live in darkness. I've tried to share that darkness, not advertise it...I won't be pitied. Not I nor my daughter."

"I tried to buy you in your office yesterday...I still can't bring myself to say the things I want to say to you now. In all my life, I've never pleaded with anyone...

I'm asking you to be her friend. To visit her...To share that romantic-part-of her life."

"I can't do that, Mrs. Chappell."

(Jenny overhears this last bit, as he leaves).

And she takes matters into her own hands, racing out into the blazing Sun, towards freedom.

Della sees and goes after her, in her Lincoln Town Car,

but there's no way she can catch up, as Jenny drives recklessly through the canyons.

"I loved my daughter. Sometimes she hated me. And blamed me. Sometimes I had to fight her-brutally."

"Her life didn't destroy me--and not this."

As he turns to leave, Della calls out "Barnie?"

"If it's not too late for the (deal), I'd like to arrange something. Something for the children."

He agrees and then leaves.

Della Chappell sits alone in her enormous mansion. She looks at her daughters' portrait for a few moments

and then goes to the windows.

And, for the first time in twenty years, pulls open the drapes.

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Christmas really came early this year! One of my best friends sent me a whole slew of mint-condition Joan Crawford TV shows plus a few surprises, and this dvd of Della is pristine, the best copy I've ever seen of it! (Danke Schon, mein freund! And Frohe Weinachten, I'm so grateful to you!)

1964's Della (AKA Fatal Confinement) was supposed to be the pilot for a TV show, but ended up as a TV movie instead. Filmed in beautiful color, it's an above average mystery/drama. I'm unclear as to whether Joan Crawford was supposed to star in the intended series, but she dominates the released film, and how! Diane Baker again does a terrific job as Joanie's hot mess daughter, just as she did in the same years theatrical film Strait-Jacket. Paul Burke (best known as Lyon in the disastrous--but entertaining--Valley Of The Dolls) has a rather wooden role, but he's likeable and sincere.

Can't stand it, she's so amazing.

I've probably used up half the computer's memory for this post, but there's so many moments here to choose from to showcase Joan Crawford's mature beauty, that I had difficulty deciding!

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

(here's one of my new favorite Christmas Carols)

Strait-Jacket, Part 3

2011-11-30T22:55:00.000-08:00

One of the great moments in Joan Crawford's acting career happens in this film, following the main credit sequence. Having been locked up for murdering her spouse and his lover in an insane rage, Lucy Harbin reunites with the daughter she hasn't seen in twenty years.

When she first sees Carol, now a lovely young woman, she steadies herself against the wall. The sheer weight of everything she's lost, all the times she missed with her child, so much regret, is physical.

Carol's shocked as well at how visceral her reaction is to seeing her mother after all those years.

Both are nervous, tentative. Lucy slowly crosses the room and suddenly, spontaneously hugs Carol close to her. Carol is stiff with apprehension at first (who can blame her after what she's been through?), but...

eventually...

warmth.

And these actresses do this entire scene without dialogue. Diane Baker should have been at least nominated for an Oscar for her work here, and Crawford...well, she should have been nominated and won Best Actress for her performance in this film (I have no idea who won Best Actress in 1964, but whomever, it was a mistake). It's been said many times (by professional writers much smarter than I) that if this film had a larger budget and wasn't so-well, tacky, that Crawford would have swept all the awards onto her mantel (this is some Falconetti-type shit here, in this humble little B-movie).

Carol was adopted by her uncle Bill (Lucy's brother) and his wife Emily as a child, and they all live together on some kind of a farm.

So Lucy moves in and tries to acclimate herself to life at home, but she's always nervous and everyone around her is nervous, but well-meaning. Everyone just wants her to be alright.

The tension is palpable.

Getting reacquainted with her daughter, Lucy takes a walk with her around the farm, but Carol's nervous and can't seem to say anything right. When they check out the chicken coop, Lucy says "I just hate to see anything caged." Whereupon Carol notes:

Ahem...long pause.

And when they stroll by the pig sty Lucy mentions that it's not very tidy...

Ummmm...

Lucy also meets the dim-witted farm-hand, played by George Kennedy.

Sensing Lucy's nervousness, Carol invites her into her studio (she's a sculpter) and shyly brings up the good old days.

She has scrapbooks from her childhood.

And mom's old jewelry!

(It's clear that poor Carol is still struggling with their mutual past)

She's even sculpted her mothers face, as she remembers her.

But when she drops the bombshell that she's engaged to a hunky,wealthy guy,

(who's coming to dinner that night), then 'ol Lucy freaks out a bit.

"At least, not just yet."

When Carol tries to reassure Lucy that he's no stranger, Lucy sadly smiles:

Although ultimately convinced by her daughter to meet Michael (the impossibly hot John Anthony Hayes),

Lucy ducks out at the last minute, frightened by the idea of meeting him. Carol understands, and goes looking for her with her fiance.

When they wind up at her studio, they find some unpleasant surprises...

End of Part Three.

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Strait-Jacket actually ceases to be a horror film for me at some point. It isn't even a melodrama anymore. Instead it becomes a tragedy. Despite the best intentions, some really bad stuff happens to some very normal, flawed people. Bummer, for real.

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And speaking of bummers, I found a really odd link recently. I don't recommend reading it (kind of self-indulgent and overly long, detailing the author's intent to do a one-man performance of JC and the reporter interviewing her) but it gives some evidence of Joan Crawford's troubled state of mind regarding her two oldest children at a critical stage in her life (1958) right before her husband died. Things were going well, Movie Star-wise, and her marriage seemed to be working. But her two eldest children were behaving in increasingly horrid ways (Chrisopher Crawford took a rifle and went on a rampage, injuring a few girls, although of course christina Crawford doesn't mention that in Mommie Dearest!), and JC couldn't understand why.

So I've taken the liberty of slogging through this article, and cutting and pasting, all for you. But honestly, WHY didn't the author provide a scan or transcript of the actual un-published article?

"Unger interviewed Crawford at her Manhatten apartment in 1958 for a special feature in Datebook, a now-defunct magazine for teenage girls. After initial reluctance, Crawford agreed to do the interview on Unger's promise that he wouldn't publish her words unless they actually proved constructive for young girls.

Although Unger left with the realization that he did not have a story for his magazine, he transcribed his notes and edited them into narrative form.

According to Unger, in the interview, Crawford spoke candidly and sometimes tearfully about her difficulties with her adopted children Christina and Christopher, as well as her own troubled childhood.

Sez the actor/playwrite: "Though my own bias towards Crawford grew exponentially, I'd like to think that Cranberry presented a somewhat balanced Crawford, as I did not shy away from embracing, for example, her sometimes harsh words in reference to Christina and Christopher, which could potentially cast her in a negative light."

"Crawford remembers her daughter Christina asking for help rehearsing lines for a school play. Crawford admits it was one of the few times she felt her daughter really respected her."

Mothers and daughters, WTF? It all seems so sad to me.

You got a fast car.

2011-11-14T21:07:00.000-08:00

I want a ticket to anywhere.

Maybe we can make a deal, maybe together we can get somewhere.

Anyplace is better (starting from zero got nothing to lose)

Maybe we'll make something, but me myself I got nothing to prove

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You got a fast car, I got a plan to get us out of here

I been working at the convenience store, managed to save just a little bit of money

We won't have to drive too far, just 'cross the border and into the city

You and I can both get jobs, and finally see what it means to be living

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You got a fast car, but is it fast enough so we can fly away?

We gotta make a decision, leave tonight or live and die this way.

I remember when we were driving, driving in your car

Speed so fast I felt like I was drunk

City lights lay out before us, and your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder

And I had a feeling that I belonged

And I had a feeling I could be someone,

be someone,

be someone.

-----------------------------------

I thought of something the other night as I was driving home (I average about thirty or forty miles on the way home from work), that Tracy Chapman's Fast Car is never played on the radio during the daytime. With good reason. It's a night song (or at least, evening song). It's solemn and gentle, the perfect song to listen to on the long ride home.

Strait-Jacket, Part 2: the credit sequence...

2011-10-31T22:36:00.000-07:00

(Note: these Strait Jacket posts are part of my lame-ass attempt to contribute to Shocktober! -AKA Halloween- but it's really coming in late because...well, because I have a job.

-----------------------------------------------------

Anyways, last time we saw poor luckless Lucy she was stepping off the train, coming home to her brothers dairy farm after being locked up in the nut house for 20 years for killing her husband and his latest bimbo with a really sharp axe.

The first scene , the actual first shot in the entire film following the Columbia logo, is awful. Really.

(Some glass is shattered and then reverses back into form, while Joan Crawford screams).

And then someone (Director William Castle?) revolves a greasy, finger-printy light bulb in front of the camera.

It makes absolutely no sense.

Following the prologue (in which Lucy dispatches of her unfaithful husband in front of her horrified daughters' eyes) a foot steps down, Joan Crawford steps into the frame and then the credits begin, and then it begins to be really great...

It's kind of an emotional moment when the soundtrack swells as the title Strait-Jacket appears on the screen. Huh, I thought, the first time I saw this, maybe it won't be too bad.

Guess what? I was right.

tina FINALLY gets the axe!

2011-10-31T19:43:00.000-07:00

Just now, when I got home from work, I found a delightful email from one of my best friends:

Hi Rob, just came across this in the Miami Herald. You probably saw it but just had to let you know in case!!!

Made my day!

Christina Crawford show about Joan Crawford canceled.

Surviving Mommie Dearest, Christina Crawford’s stage show about life with mother Joan Crawford, didn’t survive its premiere this week in Key West.

Slow ticket sales in Broward apparently forced the show to be canceled Saturday night at the Rose and Alfred Miniaci Performing Arts Center at Nova Southeastern University in Davie.

From a reader who saw the show Wednesday night at the Tennessee Williams Theatre in Key West:

"The first half was bad enough but the second half was so bad someone screamed ENOUGH, got up and left. I think the whole audience felt the same way. I know I did.

Thwack!

The first comment on the article reads:

"HOORAY!!!! That 'wanna-be' has been living off of a woman who she claims was a 'Monster' for way too long. ENOUGH ALREADY! Go slither under the boards somewhere, and leave us alone!"

In other words, the s.p.o.s. (AKA christina) should just

and I don't know...maybe...GET A LIFE?

Then again, that might be difficult for s.p.o.s. As another commenter wrote on another site reporting the same incident:

Christina is now 72. Her mother died at 72. The clock, one presumes, is ticking.

Personal note and apologia: I've been working like a son of a gun lately (three triple shifts in a row the last few days,) but this news really makes me smile,smile,SMILE!

"Who wants to go swimming?!?!"
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reposted because I was clearing out drafts and accidentally erased the actual post (damn it all!) and I'm especially aggrieved that I erased all the comments--further proof (not that any was needed) that I am, indeed, a natural blond.
And just for the heck of it, because I like this picture, here's Joanie at Town Hall:

This is how I think she'd react to know how much so many people love her!

"Lucy Harbin was declared legally insane today."

2011-10-30T02:12:00.000-07:00

"It all started on a hot, sticky Saturday night..."

So begins 1964's Strait Jacket, narrated by Lucy's now grown daughter Carol.

The pre-credit prologue is set in 1944, and Lucy is happily married to hunky Frank Harbin, but while she's out of town for the weekend, the hot (but not terribly bright) Frank hits up a local floozy, and takes her back to his place for a little voh-de-oh-doh.

NOT a good idea.

Well, she does go in the house, to her everlasting shame (not to mention her everlasting death).

And (happily over-sexed morons that they are) they don't even bother to shut the door to daughter Carol's room whilst they engage in their sinful urges!

Gross. Young Carol pretty much sees everything, if you know what I mean.

BUT (and this is a pretty big but)as the voiceover narration explains:

Cut to: the midnight train from Mukwonago pulling into town.

"Very much a woman, and very much aware of the fact." Was Crawford playing herself?

Best photograph EVER!

Scorning a taxi or bus ride out to her modest homestead, Lucy walks home on that hot sweaty night and sneaks a joyful peak in the window, so happy she is to be reunited with her humpy hubby.

But instead she sees this:

We're caught in a trap...

I can't hold back...

...because I love you too much baby.

Why can't you see,

...what you're doing to me,

when you don't believe a word I'm saying.

We can't go on together, with suspicious minds...

(SUSPICIOUS MINDS!)

And we can't live and breathe,

...with suspicious minds.

(OK, so I heard this song on the way home from work)

And poor Carol again witnesses it all.

And suddenly we're back in the "now" of present-day 1964, and the adult Carol is relating these events to her studly fiance because...

Well...mom's just been released from the local asylum after 20 years.

She's coming home. Today.

Cut to: a sadder, older (and hopefully wiser) Lucy Harbin returning to town after a long absence.

-----------------------------------------------

And this is just the pre-credit sequence!

Oh, Strait Jacket, Strait Jacket, how do I love thee?

This film has been championed by such diverse intellectuals as John Waters (who gave his respect by using a clip in Serial Mom)

and the unholy beautiful Kim Morgan of Sunset Gun.

Part 2 of this dissection of Strait Jacket coming soon (work permitting!) but seriously:

Watch this movie!

(and Toon, just let me know and I'll send you a free copy--I think you really might like it!)

The Virginian: "Nightmare" 1970

2011-09-30T22:18:00.000-07:00

Just got my copy of one of Joan Crawford's last TV appearances in the mail yesterday (Thank you, Mr. Clark!) and it's pretty damn neat. Outside of Johnny Guitar and One Must Die, I'm not too into westerns (no slur intended, it's just not my field of expertise) but this one has a few things going for it. For one (and most importantly) , Miss JoanfuckingCrawford guest-stars in it and she looks incredible at age 66 (although most of her canon was filmed in black and white, when color photography came in later on in her career, the results were quite flattering; her eyes seeming almost fluorescently aqua blue in some scenes).

"These eyes...cry every night...for you."

Also (and this is just a personal preference) there's a TON of hot guys on this show.

So yeah, I sat up and took notice, despite the fact that the remake of Dawn Of The Dead (one of my favorite movies-I mean, seriously...the first 15 minutes...!) was blasting not three feet away from my head.

(in case nobody's noticed, Sarah Polley is truly a great actress!)

And the plot of "Nightmare" is pretty interesting, too.

Joan Crawford stars as Stephanie (who's just married John White, a wealthy businessman) and who isn't accepted by her husband's family or employees (it's comical how many potential villains are set up early in the story). Everyone assumes she married him for his money (shades of 1934's Sadie McKee!), although it's clear husband and wife sincerely love each other. And Mrs. White has a rather checkered past (she's been widowed before and she's psychic, as well!).

Both of John's brothers hate her instantly:

(Bro # 1 is a horny, aggressive jerk).

(And bro # 2...sheesh, dude even smiles like an asshole!)

And then there's the hilariously hostile Native-American housekeeper:

(honestly, her dialogue in this scene is basically "Me no want-um white woman's food")

Basically, someone's trying to kill her husband and pin the blame on scarlet woman Stephanie. And someone nearly succeeds by loosening the wheels of his carriage, which overturns, crippling John.

Although he doesn't die in the "accident", it's clear he will no longer be very available, horizontally speaking.

(Stephanie White ponders this, even as her eyes wander below John's waistline)

Strolling out by the barn, Stephanie finds that one of John's brothers thinks he's more than up to the task,

to her extreme distaste.

Wait for it...

Here it comes...

WHAP!

This is so silly, though I'm thoroughly enjoying it. At least we finally know who the bad guy is.

Or do we...?

And then John dies in a fire.

(this is a pretty horrific scene)

Brother number one gets killed shortly thereafter and Stephanie is (of course) put on trial for his murder. Thank Heavens, brother number two is there to support her...Sure he's got a gambling problem and doesn't seem to get along with anyone, but still, he's so cute...

At the trial, even her friends' testimonies seem to damn her and things look fairly grim for poor Mrs. White, until The Virginian (!!!) shows up to save the day.

I have to admit I don't understand the concept of this series very well. The Virginian almost seems like a supporting player here (but this is the only episode I've seen, so who knows?) but it's entertaining, in a goofy kind of way.

There is however a rather embarrassing "faked" mad scene (pure plot contrivance) that thankfully is quickly over.

(Whatever Happened To Baby Jane in color?)

The ending, when Stephanie White has worked through her difficulties, fought off her adversaries, and elected to go on with her life, is delightful.

And yeah, she still smiles like a Goddess.

So, would I recommend it? Not really, unless you're a Crawford Completist. I am, and I'm really happy I bought it. In 1970 JC made the one film I cannot watch again (it's really that bad) but even though decent film roles were not offered to actresses of her age and experience (has anything changed?), happily some varied, challenging roles were available on television, and Joanie took them and ran with 'em! Good going, girl.
And here's ....Nightmare.

Elle vs 'B' (just because)...

2011-09-26T22:59:00.000-07:00

There's Humoresque. And Queen Bee. Female On The Beach. Rain. Whatever Happened To Baby Jane? All films that have made a signifigant impact on my life. On me. Also, there's Halloween, The Wizard of Oz, A.I., Over The Edge (literally the story of my life), Who'll Stop The Rain?, Blade Runner, Imitation of Life, Death-Proof and Ran. Movies that woke up some dormant nook of my mind. It's scary to think who I'd be if I hadn't discovered these.

Eight years ago (Geez, has it been that long?), I saw Kill Bill, Volume 1 (twice!) in the theater the week it opened. And if it's playing on TNT (which it usually is) it's on, despite all the necessary censorship, which renders much of the dialogue impotent or silly.

Kill Bill (both volumes) is another one of those "movies of my life", something I just wouldn't want to live without. Part 1 in particular is completely a perfect film. Although me and my buddies have had some great debates about the merits (or lack of) in Volume 2, for me it's completely redeemed by Elle Driver's encounters with Bud and then with B******. Now, Elle is an awful character. She's a beautiful, rich, powerful hired assassin; completely confident despite missing one of her eyes. But...she's also foul-tempered and always pissed off and ornery. And honestly...she's not too bright in some ways. I find her completely hilarious. Why do I love Elle so much???

I don't identify with her: let's face it, Elle's not a nice person. At all. But she's still one of my heroes. But so is B******.

Two heroines, one good and one bad, in one of the greatest scenes ever filmed:

Elle vs B******

------------------------------------------------------------

So about a week ago, the eldest daughter created a very minor tempest-in-a-teapot, revealing that she's taking her act on the road, doing a one-woman show called "Surviving Mommie Dearest" and publicizing her comedy act by inaccurately portraying her mother's semi-nude home movies (she was tanning, for Pete's sake!) as "blue movies". These films are old news to every Joan Crawford fan, and there's nothing dirty about them. The first time I ever read about them was on on Donna Marie Nowak's website, and thanks to Magda and quite a few other folks on tumblr and online, I've been able to see most of them.

Initially I was outraged that xtina-who will henceforth be referred to as the s.p.o.s. (aka the steaming pile of shit) is exploiting her dead mother once again for money, but since it seems that nobody is all that interested in anything the s.p.o.s. has to say, I'll let it go.

Here's the thing: s.p.o.s. is now apprx. the age her mother was when she died. She's never accomplished anything (besides her recent honor as one of the least attractrive celebrity spawns)

and I have a feeling she's hitting the road not so much for money(although that's always been a factor) but because her time is drawing near and she's trying to make sure her name is always coupled with her mother's, in any future discussion. s.p.o.s. gleefully destroyed her younger brother's life and attempted to do the same with her younger twin sisters, because s.p.o.s. really does love her mother (but in an obscene, abnormal, unnatural way). And she doesn't want to share with any siblings.

I recently saw this comment on a hilarious website I'd not seen before:

"I would LOVE Christina to see this... alas, she's too busy masturbating to videos of her dead mother to come around here."

http://atheistgranny.blogspot.com/2011/09/christina-crawford-tries-to-make.html

On some disgusting level, s.p.o.s. wants to be forever linked with the name Joan Crawford and is looking forward to a glorious future owning her mother's memory.

News for you s.p.o.s.:

4, 3, 2, 1 : Earth Below Us...

2011-08-31T22:19:00.000-07:00

drifting,

falling.

Floating weightless

Calling home.

Earth below us

Drifting, falling...

Floating weightless,

Coming,

coming home!

(Okay, okay, so I heard Peter Schilling singing this song in my car after work-can I help it if my mind makes random associations?)

The last picture is courtesy of Peter Joseph Swanson, artist and author of "The Joan Crawford Murders"--a book I NEED to read! (and incidentally, while checking out his book on Amazon.com, I also saw that Donna Marie Nowak's "Just Joan: A Joan Crawford Appreciation" has garnered some really amazing reviews, which makes me really happy (honestly, it's the first book in decades that really "gets" Joan Crawford)!

Amazing, amazing woman...sigh.

(P. S. Could Peter Schilling have been any hotter? I doubt it)

Whatever Happened To Jewel Mayhew?

2011-08-31T00:41:00.000-07:00

This will be kind of an odd Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte post because the focus here isn't on cousin Miriam but on the cold, enigmatic Widow Mayhew (portayed by Mary Astor). In my copy of the script (and the finished movie) retired insurance investigator/amateur sleuth Harry Wills has been trying to figure out who murdered John Mayhew back in 1927, for purely personal reasons; he had met Charlotte Hollis when she arrived in London after fleeing the country following the scandalous murder of her married lover (a crime most believed she had committed) and apparently he conceived quite a crush on Miss Hollis. Having been rebuffed by Charlotte's cousin Miriam Deering when he requested an interview with her, he then decides to go straight to the source and arrives at Mayhew Manor via taxi, with only a brief appearance by Miriam (Joan Crawford) at the beginning of the scene. Most of this scene in the film plays out exactly as written in the script but as in previous posts, I'll italicize all dialogue that was deleted. This is kind of important, because (just as when the character of Miriam was diminished when Joan Crawford left the role) Jewel's character suffers from these omissions. In the film as released, Ms. Mayhew is a superficially gracious (albeit very formidable) old woman, but clearly she has some underlying motives of her own.

But the deleted dialogue between Harry Wills and Jewel reveals a mournful woman who feels a lot more forgiving than many women in her position would be (especially to Charlotte, who "stole" her husband, back in the day). It pisses me off that these few snips of talking were removed, because they couldn't have added more than a few minutes to the running time and they really illuminate Jewel Mayhew's strength and decency.

LONG SHOT-ROAD, MIRIAM'S CAR-DAY

The car, headed for Hollis House, approaches Mayhew Manor.

INTERIOR-CAR-SHOT OF MIRIAM

She is driving. There are parcels on the seat beside her to show that she has been to town for supplies. She looks out at the roadside. As Miriam APPROACHES in passing we have a clear view of the drive. There is a glimpse of a waiting taxi, the driver dozing at the wheel.

---------------------------------------------------------

Then we shift to Jewel Mayhew and Harry Wills having tea. After some casual conversation, Jewel asks Harry:

"Tell me, Mr. Wills, weren't you a little surprised when I agreed to see you? After all, you must have been told I don't normally receive visitors."

Harry replies: "Well, yes, but then I've found the hospitality in this part of the country delightful...Besides I imagine you have your own reasons."

"...I did have my reasons, Mr. Wills, I did...You mentioned Lloyd's of London. I still have a policy on my deceased husband---a Lloyd's policy. I take it that's what you're interested in."

Harry: " It's a policy for a very considerable sum . In all these years, you've never even put in an inquiry."

(could Harry BE any cuter? I think not!)

Jewel: "And you want to know why...I didn't think you meant to urge me to collect after all these years. I'm afraid you'll be disappointed--I didn't exercise that policy, Mr. Wills, because--well, because I simply couldn't. There are some things-losses-you just can't bring yourself to capitalize on. At least I couldn't. And--then--I didn't need the money...Do you understand? I believe you really do. Which leads me to confess to my own ulterior motives for this meeting. I have a particular need for a stranger now."

Harry: "Yes, they do have their uses, don't they?"

"Here, in this little town, our interests are all too tightly interlocked. If you confide in one person, you confide in the whole community."

"You need someone to talk to?"

"Only in a sense. I'm not a well woman, you can see that much for yourself. Who was it said 'This long disease my life'? Well, it's coming to an end. Perhaps a month, a week, a few days, who knows?"

Harry: "I'm so terribly sorry."

Jewel puts up a hand: "No, don't be--not for me. I think I'm even glad. But never mind that. I take it you're no stranger to the unhappier aspects of people's lives, and yet you're still a cheerful man.That makes me think you're an honest one, as well. Also--I believe you must know a thing I've been very late in learning...that the wickedest act in this life is to sit in judgement on others...and bring down vengeance upon them."

Harry: "Yes. And yet there are actions that require our judgement."

Jewel: "The frightful things that happened when my husband died. And the other things, the quiet, slowly festering ones that have gone on happening ever since..."

(a pause)

"Me, alone here in this house---Charlotte alone over there, a frightened exile from the world. No matter what she did..."

(she breaks off, lost in some private reminiscence, then she shakes her head)

"More than one life was taken that night."

Again, Jewel studies Harry, and Harry offers a tentative smile. Finally (she) produces a sealed letter from her shawl and holds it in her trembling hand, her gaze fixed on Harry.

"Are you the honest man you seem to be, Harry Wills? No, don't give an answer to that. The only way to trust someone is on instinct alone."

(She drops the letter within Harry's reach)

"I want you to have this. I only ask that you don't open it until after I'm gone. Then I want to you to act on your own experience and judgement. You'll know what to do when the time comes. Or what not to do."

Harry takes the letter: "It sounds a heavy responsibilty."

"It is, a terrible one. My honest advice is to refuse it."

"But you know I won't."

"Yes, I know that." Jewel fingers a worn spot in her embroidered napkin, abandons it limply.

"Ruined finery. Yes, that's all I have left. I'm stoney broke--is that the phrase. It's a relief to admit it."

"But then, your policy with Lloyd's..."

"You know how long it would take to process an old claim like that. By the time I received it--it's likely I'd be past needing it."

There is a brief pause.

Harry: "You must be ready for another cup of tea."

End of scene.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte is one of my all-time favorite movies (despite the fact that between Bette as Charlotte and Agnes Moorhead as Velma it's something of a ham-a-thon) but in her few scenes, Mary Astor as Jewel Mayhew pretty much steals the show. Astor has an interesting connection to Joan Crawford beyond 1964's HHSC. Almost 40 years previously, the two had in 1926 been named WAMPAS (Western Association of Motion Picture Advertisers) Baby Stars, meaning both had promising futures in Hollywood (and how!).

(That's a very young, fairly haughty Joan Crawford in a 1926 WAMPAS publicity photo at lower left, with an equally young Mary Astor two tiers above her)

Joan Crawford went on to become the Greatest Star in Hollywood history, and Mary Astor didn't do too badly herself, starring in 1941's The Great Lie (a favorite guilty pleasure of mine wherein she holds her own against Miss BetteFuckingDavis, thank you very much, and winning an Oscar in the process), not to mention a little movie called The Maltese Falcon, as well as Meet Me In St. Louis with Judy Garland and her stunning turn as the Mother-In-Law from Hell in 1961's Return To Peyton Place (she's the only reason to watch this dreadful movie, which might have been a success had Joan Crawford essayed the role of Connie, as was originally intended).

Although I'd heard of her scandalous divorce trial in the mid 1930's and had read one of her autobiographies (honestly, she didn't seem like someone I'd want to get to know better), Mary Astor remained an enigma to me for a long time, until I saw this post at Self-Styled Siren.

Well okay, she's still an enigma, but I thought that was a pretty interesting discussion about Ms. Astor.

----------------------------------------------------------

And P. S. , I've been working like a fiend lately (not necessarily a bad thing!) but I've fallen behind as far as catching up with with all of my online friends, so my sincere apologies, but I did happen to see a few items last night that might be of interest to my fellow Joan-nuts, and this is at the top of the list!

Courtesy of cette journee m'attend I saw this awesome compendium of reactions from Joan's friends, peers and co-workers (in other words, the people who knew Joan Crawford best) to that pathetic, despicable book. Regardez-vous:

http://fuckyeahjoancrawford.tumblr.com/post/9551561648/theflapperfactor-old-hollywoods-response-to

“Joan was a fine mother to Tina, she spoiled her beyond belief, though. What Tina has done in return is disgusting.”- Gloria Swanson

“Excuse me while I toss my lunch.”- Barbara Stanwyck

“I was never close to Joan, but I found that sickening.”- Katherine Hepburn

“It makes me want to cry.”- Doris Day

“I can’t understand why Christina would do something like this, it’s terrible.”- Ava Gardner

“That’s not the Joan I knew.”- Douglas Fairbanks Jr.

“I knew both Tina and Joan pretty well. Every time I saw Tina, she seemed almost jealous of Joan; It’s like she wanted to be Joan. I swear, that Brat made me glad I didn’t have kids.”- Myrna Loy

“Nobody Deserves a Death like that.”- Marlene Dietrich

“Now I know why tigers eat their young.”- Bob Hope

I'm not sure who I love more, but Myrna, Barbara and Doris are pretty much at the top of the list, especially after reading this!

Summer Under The Stars continues on TCM...

2011-08-23T00:35:00.000-07:00

26 hours of Joan Crawford on TCM, so yeah, I'm in Heaven. At this very moment I'm watching the opening credits of Mildred Pierce, a movie that always makes me emotional, just completely happy. The "Ultimate Star" documentary just finished, and I saw Philip's name in the credits! (He gave us all one of the funniest stories about that vile excuse for a human being and absolute waste of skin that is christina Crawford) and he runs very successful tours of Hollywood, as well. Although I'm not pleased that the fugly pig tina was interviewed at all for the documentary, still it gives a pretty comprehensive overview of Joanie's career. (Hopefully my buddy DVR'ed the parts I had to work through!)

Next up after Mildred Pierce is 1934's Sadie McKee, one of my favorite films of hers (and one where I really feel she was playing an MGM-glamorized version of her own self and life).

Sadie McKee contains the single greatest closeup she ever committed to film. Within the space of about seven seconds hope and love, then realization and loss sweep across Sadie's face, while Crawford the actress barely moves a muscle.

Following Sadie is The Shining Hour, a 1938 marital melodrama about life among the idle wealthy in Wisconsin. Although many don't care for this film (for some very good reasons) I completely love it, even if it's dramatically disastrous and fairly illogical. Most of the actors (all of whom perform like they're in the leading roles) seem to be inhabiting different films that were spliced together. It just doesn't work, despite the best intentions of everyone concerned.

(As Joan Crawford recalled: "It failed, but sort of nobly")

But damn, Joan's Olivia Linden is so real.

At one point, she tries to make peace with her loathsome sister-in-law Hannah (Fay Bainter), only to be coldly rebuffed, and Crawford throws out the line "Oh, what's the use?"

Her delivery is so damn modern, and Crawford is leagues beyond any of the hams she's stuck with in this movie (sometimes I think I prefer her lesser films, just because it gives me an opportunity to observe her doing her darndest just to "raise the ceiling" against all odds)!

Then at 2:45 AM, 1930's Montana Moon starts playing. It's kind of a crude early "talkie" relic and is worthwhile for only two reasons: a very girly, flirtacious young Joan Crawford in an early "sound" film, and also as an interesting contrast to the heights that silent film ascended before becoming passe as sound came in. Compare this film to her previous years' silent Our Modern Maidens, where the cinematography is more fluid (and gorgeous) and it reveals how much the new innovation of sound on film threw a wrench in the gears, artistically. Basically M M bears witness to the entire theme of the classic film Singing In The Rain (1952), which is about the changeover from silent movies to talkies. So yes, Montana Moon's kind of stupid (there's even some recording issues where apparently no one could control the microphone volume), but this must have been an exciting time to be in the film industry!

And almost last in the line-up (but certainly not least!) is 1943's Above Suspicion, a WWII suspense film with lots of comedy. Although Joanie never liked the film (she left her home studio, her Alma Mater MGM, the only thing resembling a family she'd ever known shortly after finishing this film), she's charming in it, and there's some great chemistry with Fred MacMurray in it (is it just me, or does MacMurray resemble -emotionally and physically- JC's husband Philip Terry?)

After a few hours' gap, at 6 PM TCM shows what many believe is Crawford's finest performance:

A Woman's Face.

(I don't quite agree; Joan's Helen in Humoresque is so painful to watch, so loveable and lost that I don't think that performance will ever be bettered by anyone), but A Woman's Face (despite the goofy MGM glamorizing of a very Warner Bros. type picture) is pretty shocking and dark. I do think MGM erred in not transplanting the story to the U.S.A in the early 40's (A Woman's Face is a remake of a Swedish film) just because all the "local color", the indigenous native garb of the Scandinavian farmers at the squaredances, all that folksy bullshit, pulls me out of the movie--it's just too cute. But who can complain when Mr. Conrad Veidt and Joan Crawford look one another in the eye as equals, as they consider pursuing a life of crime together?

And on a related note, here's Joan Crawford accepting the Academy Award for Anne Bancroft as Best Actress of 1962. I see no trace of the "odd smile of triumph" that other writers have written about: She basically steps up, speaks, and then gracefully leaves the stage.

So, what's the problem, Bette?

And, just to make you happy, I have a link a friend sent to me awhile ago. So---

apparently one of the late Joan Crawford's offspring is as uncharismatic and unlikeable a politician and public servant as she was when an actress:
Christina Crawford, the Benewah County commissioner who supported Democrat Keith Allred in the general election, was shown the door by voters Tuesday night, according to Dan Hammes, St. Maries Gazette-Record. Phil Lampert easily defeated incumbent Crawford in the race for county commissioner, 2080-892.

http://www.spokesman.com/blogs/hbo/2010/nov/04/benewah-voters-boot-crawford/

(Miss JoanFuckingCrawford is devastated to hear this)

Baby, you're a firework-

Come on, show us what you're worth!

Make 'em go 'Ai, Ai, Ai'

As you shoot across the sky-y-y.

D. Day

2011-08-05T21:55:00.000-07:00

So, the last few days I've been reading Doris Day: The Untold Story of the Girl Next Door by David Kaufman, one of the most recent biographies of the subject. It's pretty damn great. I've always been more a fan of her than of her movies (oddly, my favorite film of Day's is The Glass Bottom Boat, a completely goofy live-action cartoon directed by Frank Tashlin that makes me giggle helplessly).

(Don't even ask...)

The Untold Story follows pretty closely Day's own autobiography (published early in the 1970's) but of course it brings us up to date with what she's been doing since (I'd had no idea that her troubled son Terry died a few years ago, or that she's been re-married for the fourth time and since divorced).

A little background: She was born Doris Kappelhof in Cincinatti, the daughter of German-American parents, in 1922. A professional dancer even as a child, she was nearly killed in a terrible accident as a teenager when the car she was riding in was hit by a train, and during her time recuperating she started to work on her singing voice, going on the road as a singer with various bands, eventually having a number one song with Sentimental Journey, the beginning of a stream of hit records.

Although pretty, hard-working and friendly to everyone, her personal life wasn't nearly as successful: She married a charming psychopath named Al Jorden, who beat her mercilessly and nearly killed her on a few occasions and when she finally left him (after bearing his son) she married a very nice guy she felt no passion for; this marriage also ended in divorce.

(Doris seems pretty upset)

Signed to a movie contract, she became a star in her first picture Romance On The High Seas and Warners soon discovered they had a triple threat on their hands: Doris was a naturally gifted dancer and actress and she was a superlative singer.

And she became the Number One female box-office attraction of all time.

Untold Story has a wealth of information that Doris' own autobiography lacks, and does a great job of providing context, lengthy interviews and background-There's a lot here I never knew about Miss Day!

Although clearly an admirer, the author isn't afraid to include some rather unflattering interviews about his subject by some of the people closest to her at some points. She seems to have had (or to have developed) an almost uncanny ability to wipe people completely from her mind if she felt (correctly or not) that they'd wronged her, never to speak to them again. None of this bothers me a bit; after spending so much of her Hollywood life being " Little Miss Co-operative", one can imagine she got taken advantage of a lot.

(she was also weirdly insecure about her looks, especially her freckles, which I think were adorable!)

And although everyone agrees third husband Marty Melcher was a sleazy opportunist who financially took her for a ride, people who knew both note that he did a lot of the dirty work for her, firing friends/fans-turned-assistants because she wanted to avoid confrontation at all costs. Still she comes across likeable and human here.

(with her "My Buddy", Rock Hudson; outside of Billy De Wolfe--another gay guy--probably the best friend she ever had)

Toward the tail end of her career in the mid 1960's, it became fashionable to dismiss the sunny Day (and many of her films) as corny, old fashioned, etc, a notion which is refuted here astutely.

I was delighted to read here that the brilliant, pioneering feminist author and critic Molly Haskell is a huge fan of hers.

(Even Doris seems startled by all the critical respect she's been receiving lately)

Favorite quote in the book: "...Day is particularly relevant today in prefiguring a less repressive, more equal sexuality... Moreover, saying 'No' to manipulative sexual situations is not the same thing as clinging to one's virginity."

Bam!

Even more than her films (which I always like) or her music (which I always love*) I love Doris Day for her advocacy for animals, especially dogs. God knows how much of her personal time, not to mention her enormous fortune, she has devoted to her various foundations for strays and neglected/abused pets. As she's quoted in The Untold Story: "I've never met a dog I didn't like-I can't say the same for people." (Can't say I disagree with her, either!)

(Doris will cut a bitch)

And of course, Miss Day had a casual, friendly relationship with someone I might have mentioned here before, some actress named Joan Crawford.

They probably met in 1949, when Joanie appeared as herself in a brief scene in Days It's A Great Feeling, slyly spoofing her Oscar-winning Mildred Pierce.

But there was another, more important bond-JC was an unrepentant, confirmed lover of dogs, too (in fact, she kept her beloved "Princess" with her as long as she was able to, giving her to a close friend just a few days before she died).

In The Untold Story, author Kaufman recounts Day holding a fund-raiser for an animal shelter that ultimately netted almost $70,000: "She was particularly grateful to Joan Crawford for donating 30,000 Pepsi-Colas--plus helpers to dispense them."

And I'm tossing this in, just 'cause this picture makes me feel good.

(Eunice and Ernie--Doris' and Rock's lifelong nicknames for each other--just kicking back).

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And in sadder news, Cha Cha DiGregorio has left the gymnasium...

"They call me 'Cha Cha' because I'm the best dancer at St. Bernadette's."

"Yeah, with the worst reputation!"

Annette Charles Cardona (accomplished dancer, choreographer and teacher) died yesterday at age 63. We'll miss her.

I always have a soft spot for those sassy bad girls from, oh, only the Greatest Movie Ever Made!!! (aka Grease)

But anyway, Ms. Doris Day is still with us.

I hope she lives forever.
*Years ago, my best bud gave me Doris Day's Greatest Hits CD as (I guess) kind of a joke at Christmas (me being more Aerosmith/Def Lepperd oriented at the time). I think he ultimately regretted it: I've been singing along to "My Dreams Are Getting Better All The Time" in the car ever since.
Doris Day had the greatest voice of the twentieth century, far preferable (to me, anyway) to Judy Garland or Barbra Streisand. Streisand had an instrument but no soul. Garland had a soul and an instrument, but increasingly played to the balcony. Day had an instrument, a buoyant, slightly melancholy tone and-whatever the lyrics she was singing-a soul that she kept all to herself. Insecure in many normal ways (her appearance, her acting, etc), she was a fucking surgeon about that voice, and usually the songs she lent it to, that she tried to open up,as well.
I'd love to figure out who she's singing to.

Whatever Happened To Cousin Miriam? (Pt. 3)

2011-07-28T00:43:00.000-07:00

When last we caught up with Cousin Miriam, she'd had an uncomfortable encounter with Jewel Mayhew (widow of murdered John and whom she hadn't seen in almost 30 years) on the steps of Hollisport Hospital and she'd briefly alluded to childhood friend Dr. Drew...

... that someone was trying to frighten her back at Hollis House, out on the bayou. As in previous posts, all of the deleted dialogue and some of the stage directions from the original script is italicized.
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As in the finished film,Miriam returns to Hollis House only to find her cousin in a rage, shrieking abuse at poor Velma, who'd found a tabloid about Charlotte and John Mayhew in the mail and brought it in for Charlotte to read (the old case making news again because of the impending demolition of the plantation manor house):

"Don't you ever show your white trash face in this house AGAIN!"

Miriam attempts to calm Charlotte, who believes Jewel Mayhew had the magazine delivered to her, telling her that she'd just seen Jewel and that she was far too ill to be playing silly pranks like this, but Charlotte races to her desk and pulls out a sheaf of papers.

Miriam takes up one of the notes, looks at it, lifts her gaze to Charlotte, waiting for an explanation.

"I've been getting these in the mail ever since John died! That idiot Sherriff told us they were crank notes. And then some reporter got them into the newspapers--and they started coming from all over--all over the world! But they started right here in Hollisport! And that's where the last one came from-Hollisport. And all of them from Jewel Mayhew!"

Miriam, staring, lets the note flutter from her hand:

"You saved all these?"

They're interrupted by Velma, who tells them that the women from town Miriam has engaged to do the packing have arrived. Then she picks up one of the notes and

hands it negligently to Miriam, who looks at her angrily and crumples the note in her hand before sweeping out of the room.

But very late that same night, Miriam is awakened by the sound of music and, pulling on a robe, she cautiously steps down the stairs, following the harpsichord notes to the music room,

where she finds Charlotte alone in the dark: sadly, softly singing the love song the-long deceased John Mayhew wrote for her. Miriam compassionately urges Charlotte to go back to bed. Then the door to the terrace slowly swings open and Charlotte sees...

CLOSE SHOT-LOWER PART OF DOOR,THE CLEAVER.

The door comes fully open, illumines the cleaver, spattered with blood, upright in the floor.

CLOSE SHOT-CHARLOTTE

She starts up in terror, screams.

CLOSE SHOT-MIRIAM

She shows surprise, alarm: "Charlotte...?"

Miriam follows her gaze to the cleaver. Charlotte stares fixedly. Determination comes into Miriam's face. She leaves Charlotte to cling to the harpsichord, goes toward the cleaver, and as if to put an end to this grisly nonsense, reaches down and dislodges it. She starts to straighten, then freezes. A look of overwhelming revulsion comes into her face.

A reconstruction of the first murder scene, except that now we see the hand actually dismembered and bleeding. The nosegay has fallen from its grasp, now spattered with blood.

CLOSE SHOT-CHARLOTTE

The madness of terror is in her face now. She makes muted, whimpering sounds of fright.

Miriam drops the cleaver, goes to the sobbing Charlotte and forces her away from the scene.

"Come along, it's going to be all right...it's over now, it really is."

But later on, after Charlotte's gone to sleep, Miriam warily returns to the music room.

She enters hesitantly, finds the light switch and turns it on. The chandeliers yield a glaring brightness.Miriam looks around toward the harpsichord. At a point where she can see where the hand was, she stops, takes a breath, looks. There is no sign of the hand or cleaver; they are gone.

She crosses for a closer look, tries the door,

finds it locked. Frowning, she peers through one of the panes out into the dark.

There is a furtive shifting of shadows near the shrubbery, a figure, perhaps, taking cover there.

She draws away from the window with an expression of intense disquiet.

In my copy of the script for Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte pages 194, 195, pages 195A and 195B are omitted (unless I get my hands on Crawford's own original copy of the script, the one she signed on to film, we'll probably never know what these scenes detailed), but likely they revolved around cousin Miriam (again, not to overstate it, but just re-reading my copy of the script, I'm astonished at how much the character of Miriam Deering was diminished in the final version of Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte that was released theatrically--she's easily the most interesting person in HHSC and she is the one character that reveals shades of depth and ambiguity). But apparently Bette Davis and Robert Aldrich took care of that after Crawford left the production. There's a parity between Charlotte and Miriam in the script that never quite made it into the final film (although talented, beautiful Olivia de Haviland does a terrific job of making Miriam a dominant supporting role in the final product, still...) Part 4 coming up soon.

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And on a semi-related note: Joan Crawford's fabulous performance as twins in One Must Die is available on youtube, thanks to Shane--check it out before it gets taken down!

Marlene...Maria...

2011-07-18T21:54:00.000-07:00

The last couple of days I've been re-reading Donald Spotos Blue Angel: The Life Of Marlene Dietrich and my latent crush on Marlene is in full swing. Blue Angel does a good job of putting Dietrich's life (as well as German history from the Unification to the Weimar Republic and afterwards) in full context ; In 1919, one dollar equalled 8 marks, but "...four years later , it bought one trillion" and the resulting economic instability was exploited by many differing political factions, all of which had an effect on Marlene's life and outlook.

(not to mention her ensembles)

Dietrich became one of the most celebrated stage and film actresses in Berlin, and then one film (The Blue Angel) made her an international star, which she remained for the rest of her long, increasingly sad, life. Blue Angel is a pretty compelling, occasionally sad, overview of her life.

But honestly, for me the final word about Marlene will always belong to her daughter, Maria Riva. Riva's engrossing (800 pages!) biography of her iconic mother isn't at all a hatchet job by a dissatisfied failure of a daughter a la Mommie Dearest-- it's simply a blunt, honest memoir, but also an attempt to understand her mother.

Although Maria Riva clearly didn't love her mother (she states so explicitly in the text), still she writes perceptively of her. This is a very well researched book--there's so much detail and background information about the making of Marlene's films (as well as her wild, casually bisexual romantic life) and every single word is fascinating (one of the most startling things about Riva's book is how damned intelligent both women are, and how funny).

Marlene could be a loving--although often inattentive--tyrant of a mother, but Maria eventually figured out how to deal with her: alternately humor and/or ignore her!

(Although Dietrich seems unaware, her daughter is unsmiling in most photographs taken of her as a girl...

...as well as when she was an adult).

A little forgotten background about Maria Riva:

She was one of the most famous actresses of the "Golden Age of Television" (one of the three "Most Seen" actors in the early days of live TV). And she was gorgeous.

(Frankly, I think Maria was much more beautiful than her mother)

Happily, Maria Riva has ended up a completely happy woman, professional, wife and mother.

And even now, well into old age, she's still beautiful, commanding, stately.

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And just to keep it all in the Crawford vein, here's a quote from an enraged Marlene Dietrich regarding the forthcoming film version of Mommie Dearest:

"I'm shocked that Paramount bought that filthy book, and made the frightful bitch who wrote it rich!" My note: the "frighful bitch" (to quote Dietrich) lost all of her ill-gotten riches very quickly, not at all what she expected when she first published MD!

(Joan Crawford rolling on the floor, laughing her ass off just thinking about it!)

The Story Of Esther Costello (1957)

2011-07-05T16:05:00.000-07:00

The Story Of Esther Costello is an unusual, even odd, movie in some ways. It doesn't seem to be very well known (although leading lady Joan Crawford won the British equivalent of our Academy Awards for her spectacular performance in it!) and it isn't often shown on TV, though that may be because of some of the dark directions it goes in...(warning: this entire post is basically a spoiler)

Inspired by Mignonette, I went over TSOEC frame by frame, trying to extract the essence of the plot from the images, and since I'm in love with the mature Crawford face, it was a pleasure.

Margaret Landi, a wealthy divorcee, is visiting the Irish village of Cloncraig where she was born (although she grew up in America and lives a restless, idle life, travelling much of the time).

The villagers of Cloncraig are impressed by her wealth,

her style,

and her generosity

but a local priest seems to have an agenda; he has a "friend" he'd like Margaret to meet...

Esther Costello, a young girl who was rendered blind, deaf and mute from the trauma of seeing her mother killed by the explosion of an IRA bomb during the Irish troubles and who lives with a drunken aunt in a filthy, squalid hut.

Margaret (childless though she is) is troubled by the girls' situation and leaves money but she clearly wishes to disassociate herself from the entire situation, and from Cloncraig itself. Abruptly changing her plans she tells the priest she's leaving that very evening. But, due to some collusion between the priest and the townspeople, Mrs. Landi's car is disabled temporarily, and her departure is delayed.

And that night, the man of the cloth asks Margaret to deliver a blanket to Esther in her chilly cottage.

Margaret and Esther leave together the next day.

Although Margaret's actions are genuinely noble (she wants to provide this girl with the chance for an education in a clean, friendly environment) she doesn't want to become too entangled with Esther, and attempts to "drop her off" at a progressive school,

but as Margaret is leaving, Esther, separated from the one person who's ever been good to her, panics and runs sightlessly away, nearly getting killed in the process.

Margaret realizes it isn't going to be as easy as all that...

And now begins one of the most rewarding, joyful sequences in this dark film.

Margaret decides to stay with

the girl and share her education, teaching (and learning from) Esther, right at the school.

And young Miss Costello blossoms, revealing all her dormant intelligence and curiosity

(not to mention the humor--there are some really cute, funny scenes between these two!) and Margaret is encouraged to start up a fund drive in Esther's name, to pay for research that could benefit all disadvantaged children.

The fund drive is enormously successful.

That's when the trouble starts (trouble being Mr. Carlo Landi, played by the dreamy Rossano Brazzi).

They meet up in a London art gallery and although Margaret clearly doesn't trust him,

that 'ol chemistry works its' magic and soon they're a loving couple once more.

Carlo seems quite charmed by Esther and urges Margaret onto greater heights of fund-raising, until it becomes quite a treadmill for both mother and daughter figures. Both are exhausted now, but the money keeps rolling in, and Carlo insists that "it's all for the good of the children..."

Meanwhile, all the publicity attracts the attention of a crusading journalist (is there any other kind?) and he develops a crush on the pretty young girl, though he's dismayed by the growing "cash-grab" aspect of the fund drives. He's not the only one...

When Margaret learns of some financial "irregularities" in the organization, she confronts Carlo.

They argue and he skillfully makes her feel guilty for even accusing him (which she falls for, because she really does love him, and she's powerfully attracted to him, physically, as well). He goes to bed,

And Margaret has a few moments where emotions shift across her face as she stands alone in the room.

She turns off the light...

and joins him in the bedroom.

But the business of money-making continues, and eventually the corruption of the organization threatens to become a scandal.

And one night in Venice, when Margaret's out, Carlo and Esther are alone together (she's unaware of his presence) and she begins to undress for bed.

Margaret arrives home unexpectedly and sees what's going on.

And she does something so real, so shocking, that I was awed the first time I saw this scene:

She attacks Esther, lashing out at the defenceless girl.

A few moments later, she joins Carlo on the terrace, barely managing to keep a mask of calm on her face.

He asks where she's been?

"I was out buying something beautiful for you"

(giving him a set of jewelled cufflinks) adding "Where've you been...drinking?"

Quietly, she begs Carlo to cancel the tour, the Esther needs a break, that she can't take anymore. Their eyes meet, and she slams the drink out of his hand.

"WHY should I lie? I'm the one who can't stand it!"

Carlo eventually consents to cut short the tour, just a few more dates, and then they'll all have a good, long vacation.

But only a few days later, she's called to the Italian mainland on business,

and Carlo skips his plane, returning to the apartment...

and the shock of what happens reawakens Esther's sensory faculties.

The scene after Carlo leaves and she starts to hear sounds is splendidly realized.

Margaret returns much later that same night...

...and figures it out.

Makes a decision.

Puts a gun in her pocket.

Early next morning, she meets her husband at the airport and they make small talk.

Then she throws one of the cufflinks she found in Esther's bed on the table.

"Let's go, shall we?"

Painful to watch, how sad she is, and how much she still loves him.

They are both killed in a car accident.
Later that same night, Esther tells the visiting priest from Cloncraig (whom Margaret had summoned to Venice before completing her task):

"I can't do it...I can't go on without her"

But remembering Margaret's love and hopes for her, Esther finally chooses to go on.

The end.

The Story Of Esther Costello is complex, rich and to some degree, unsatisfying (it's an occasionally uneasy cross between straight-ahead drama, full-blown melodrama,and some of the sequences seem almost like documentary footage) but it pulls me in, and Joan Crawford is astonishing here, fearless in inhabiting a decent character who makes some mistakes, who gets tripped up by her heart, but who ultimately does the right thing. And she's so very, very beautiful (did anyone in film history have bone structure like that?)

Heather Sears is lovely and talented as the young girl: she makes you believe she's Esther. Brazzi as Carlo is sexy as hell (as well as ultimately loathsome); all of the major performers do fine work.

And as a friend pointed out to me a while back, this is one of Joan Crawford's last great "leading lady" roles. Although she was basically well-served by the horror films she was forced to make in the coming decade (and I love Baby Jane and Strait-Jacket beyond reason), still if her last husband hadn't died leaving her finances in a disastrous state, maybe she could have continued making films in the Esther Costello vein, working only when the right material came along, something that interested and engaged her.
Happily JC was well aware of her achievement as Margaret Landi; as she told author Roy Newquist "Frankly, if I think I deserved an Oscar for Mildred Pierce, I deserved two for The Story Of Esther Costello; the complexities of the part were staggering...Nothing but very fond memories of that film."

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And over at Le Souffle au Coeur, Mignonette's most recent post is devoted to Grand Hotel, the 1932 classic that reveals a glowing, radiant young Crawford at one of her peaks of beauty.
My favorite capture in the entire post is this impish picture:

Who'd have known that twenty five years later, she's still be the top-billed Star, still wowing audiences with her talents and looks?
(I bet she knew, even way back then!)

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(Personal note: this post took forever to do--mostly because me and my buddy took a break every hour or so and walked down to the beach. He snapped this picture around noon today)

I see this every day of my life, and I never get tired of it.

So go on outside people, and enjoy the summer!

It has been an amazing day.

Even more Home Movie footage online...!

2011-06-23T01:58:00.000-07:00

...and some odds and ends, as well.

Magda from Get On The Carousel has posted another scene from the recently discovered Joan Crawford home movies showing JC with her son "the first Christopher" (whose life story, after his psychotic biological mother "reclaimed" him from Joan, is too painful to think about for very long). The footage (about three minutes in length) shows a loving mother feeding her child, and then attempting (unsuccessfully, apparently) to burp him. Although the footage is charming, like any home movie is, and though she clearly adores her child, the thing that stopped me dead in my tracks is how beautiful Crawford was (and in glorious color--in 1941!).

In 1941, Joanie was no longer an ingenue (she was about 35) and there's a few moments here, her face bent down toward the infant, when she looks up at someone who's talking to her off camera and it's just like WHAM!

How perfect was that face?!?!

I'm so grateful to Magda for bringing these clips to our attention (I check her Tumblr site on a daily basis--work permitting--and I always find something interesting there. And really, anyone who loves The Prime Of Miss Jean Brodie is a class act, as far as I'm concerned)!

And a comment from Toon got me thinking about an awesome old SNL Mommie Dearest skit that I haven't seen in years (why do they only show re-runs from the last decade on TV, instead of episodes from back when Saturday Night Live was still good?! Although I scouted around online, I couldn't find the parody to link to here, but it was pretty funny (and, if memory serves correctly, kind of subtly ripped on tina) and Gilda Radner embodied christina Crawford.

(although really, wouldn't any vacant bleached blonde with a sense of entitlement embody christina Crawford? Just being rhetorical here...)

Which leads me to yet another online find, an original review of Mommie Dearest that pretty much says everything I feel about this entire sordid saga:

"It is not easy being a working mother—especially if your boss happens to be Louis B. Mayer and your job category is movie star. It is especially not easy if one of your adopted children turns out to be the spoiled and charmless brat portrayed in this silly movie about the domestic life of Joan Crawford. The sympathy one is supposed to feel for the poor little rich waif (played at different ages by Mara Hobel and Diana Scarwid) slides away from her and onto the fashionably padded shoulders of the actress, whom Faye Dunaway's makeup artist, Lee C. Harman, gets just right. It was Crawford, after all, who had the career problems, the man problems, the drinking problem and, finally, the aging problem. That she sometimes lost her temper at home is hardly the stuff of tragedy, or even good melodrama. Yes, she occasionally raised her hand to her daughter. But thousands of children suffer far more terrible abuse every day—and don't have backyard swimming pools to soothe their feelings. Or get to write vindictive autobiographies that become bestsellers because Mommie Dearest was also Mommie Famous."

Truer words were never spoken.

And a day or two ago, Debbie Reynolds held an auction of her Hollywood memorabilia.

Ann Blyth's suit

from Mildred Pierce fetched a pretty penny ($5000),

but Joan Crawford's waitress uniform raked in $22,500!

Kind of amazing.

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Personal note: lately I'm feeling kind of guilty that these latest posts have been sort of of "check out what's new online and throw it out there for people to see"...it feels kind of lazy, but I've been working like a son of a gun, and the BF is rather impatient and demanding of attention.

However...

I just got back a couple hours ago from seeing Insidious with one of my best friends.

was

TERRIFYING!

Up until tonight, the scariest movie I've ever seen was 28 Weeks Later (I always feel kind of guilty that The Exorcist didn't scare me at all, but what the heck, I'm not Catholic, I'm Lutheran and I don't really get all that demon/possession stuff).

So, how spooky was Insidious?

Well, I made an ass of myself, and actually exclaimed out loud in the theater a few times. Me and my bud were both freaking out from about ten minutes in, but we were both grinning from ear to ear whenever we looked at each other.

And Rose Byrne is the bomb in this movie, just amazing and tired, frustrated and increasingly terrified, but her husband was even better. Just mister nice guy who gets pulled into this horror (and sure, it doesn't hurt that he's cute!) but he's brave, and he ends up paying for it.

I really didn't like the ending, but it was logical, and I hope there's a sequel.

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And just to wrap all this up, Last night I stumbled across a picture of Joan Crawford I've never seen before.

Oscar Night, 1946:

So all in all, this has been a pretty terrific day, despite the thunderstorms and torrential rain hereabouts; I found out a few new things, saw a few new images and I got scared off my ass in the movie theater.

Hope y'all are doing as well.

In brief: Both Felix and Sidney RULE.

2011-06-12T00:31:00.000-07:00

The always amazing Felix In Hollywood has kindly (thank you so much, Felix!) allowed me to link to his recent post about working on the TCM documentary Joan Crawford: The Ultimate Movie Star ( which I fully believe has a lot to do with the phenomenal recent resurgence of interest in our girl as a professional woman, transcendant actress and --of course-- timeless beauty, not to mention being an all around pretty swell gal).

Check it out (if only for the most flattering picture of the abominable adopted daughter I've yet seen, as well as the funniest accompanying caption EVER).

Seriously, it made my day.

Felix is a neat person, someone I've never met except online, but he's kind of who I picture as Jerry Brahms whenever I read (or re-read) Clive Barker's Coldheart Canyon, one of my favorite books. Coldheart Canyon's an occasionally pornographic ghost story about silent film stars who get lost when the real world passes them by, and Jerry's one of the few characters who has his feet on the ground in present day LA. Though he doesn't resemble Jerry physically (Jerry Brahms is kind of rotund, and as far as I can tell, Felix is whippet-thin), still they're both storehouses of Hollywood insider info, and I totally envy both of them, the lives they've lived.

(And quite awhile back, Felix was sweet enough to allow me to share a more in-depth transcript of his impressions of working with the eldest adopted daughter, who is clearly insane).

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AND the other night I went to see Scream 4 for the second time because...

A: I was gizzacked the first time I saw it, and consequently didn't understand anything that was going on. And B: We both got admission for the amazing low, low price of FREE!

My initial impression was unfavorable, to say the the least. It felt kind of "paint by numbers". But this horror movie has a lot going for it, upon a second viewing. For one thing, I LOVED most of the characters.

I'm the first to admit I don't watch a lot of TV, so I don't really know who Hayden Panetierre is , but she is effin' DELIGHTFUL here, despite her girls gym teacher haircut (what's up with that?).

And let's not talk about Olivia, because what happens there is just wrong.

(And a personal note to Courtney Cox--whatever you're doing to your face, just stop it. Retrace your steps. Just think about it, please).

But Neve Campbell as Sid...well... Sidney makes it all alright. She may just be my favorite Final Girl of all time.

(well, except for Laurie Strode and Ginny, of course).

I completely love her. Sid's smart, nice, compassionate, intellectual and fierce, and she WILL kick your ass, if you're belligerent or violent to her or her loved ones. Can you blame her?

------------------------------------------

(spoiler alert!!!)

I think the biggest reason for my initial distaste for Scream 4 was because of Sidney's cousin (whatever her name was). The young woman who played her gave a great performance, but she was so (realistically) sour and unlikeable that I almost wished the bad guy/girl would finish her off!

And that glass coffee table...you knew that would figure in the climax, didn't you?

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And Jess , in case no one's answered your question, that picture is a still from This Woman Is Dangerous ( a Joan Crawford melodrama from 1952 that really isn't as bad as its reputation-it's just kind of lame). If it failed at the box office, it's most likely because of the awful title and because she really wasn't into it at the time; Joan Crawford had her eyes on Sudden Fear and freedom from her Warner Bros. contract!

I Think...

2011-06-02T00:33:00.000-07:00

...therefore I link.

Jess at The Cluttered Classic has uploaded...oh, the greatest movie ever made...on youtube, so check it out if you're jones'ing for some Joan (this is pretty rare and completely AWESOME).

Meanwhile back at the ranch, I've been fiendishly devouring my DVD of Queen Bee (I had last night off, so of course I had to get into trouble) and one of my best buds installed a screengrab thingy--observe:

Also, shanecincy has put up two of Joan Crawford's earliest film performances on youtube:

Pretty Ladies is showing its age (although it's still a fascinating document)

but the real surprise is budding Joan Crawford's/Lucille Le Sueuer's prologue in The Circle.

Not only is the picture quality terrific (esp/for a movie from 1925!), but it's such a great chance to watch this artist when she was just starting out.

I consider myself lucky to have seen a completely restored copy of JC's actual first film Lady Of The Night,

and even though she just had a bit part in it, it's a fun movie and Norma Shearer does a good job in it.

Still... nobody lasts like Joan Crawford.
And this is something I haven't seen since I was a kid at my grandparents house: The Carol Burnett parody of Torch Song that really hurt Joan's feelings when she saw it a few years before her death. "I did more than show my legs in that movie!" she told Carl Johnes, author of Crawford: The Last Years...

(which is, incidentally, one of my five favorite books about JC, the others being Conversations With Joan Crawford by Roy Newquist,

Joan Crawford by Bob Thomas

Just Joan by Donna Marie Nowak:

and of course Crawford's own My Way Of Life, which is like the 2nd New Testament, as far as I'm concerned, just words to live by, and I treasure my first edition)

--I URGE any fan of Joanie, or lover of classic film in general to pick up a copy of these invaluable books; all are available on Amazon.com ).
Since I'm in a Torch Song kind of mood, here's an astounding clip of Joan's actual voice singing her heart out which I've swiped from http://stirredstraightup.blogspot.com/2011/05/ghost-story.html.

Benny Thau (the trashy, idiot producer of Torch Song: "I wanna die with a cigar in my mouth and a hot broad underneath me") should've stuck with Crawford's real voice .
And since I've been in a Gaga mood all day long, I've been indulging in a Bad Romance , too.

But really, my all time favorite youtube Joan Crawford mash-up is this.
Cripes, she touches me so.

Can't explain it and don't really understand it.
It just is.