What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?
(A- or 3.5/4 stars)
Lifetime Hollywood Grande Dame rivals Bette Davis & Joan Crawford thrillingly play out their real-life feud to the hilt in this twisted, darkly comedic chiller about sibling rivalry, 'What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?' (stylishly directed by Robert Aldrich). To the surprise of many, this gimmicky 'horror' film designed to get these 2 stars together, became a box office, critical & Academy Award sensation. Child star Jane Hudson (Davis) was a spoiled vaudeville star in the early-1920s known as Baby Jane, while her 'wannabe star' shy sister, Blanche (Crawford), was always cast in her shadow. That all ended when Blanche aged into a stunning beauty in the 1930s & became revered as a consummate movie idol ... and Jane relegated to being an extra.
Now in the early 1960s, Blanche is a paralyzed invalid; confined to a wheelchair after a tragic car accident years ago, and has become a recluse living with her caustic, woeful older sister in a gloomy, decaying Hollywood mansion from their youth. Jane, who could never handle how far her career slid away from under her, has become an embittered, somewhat deranged alcoholic who takes advantage of the stark change in their situations; getting revenge as her sister's careless caretaker. It is Jane's want to unceasingly torment her sister, Blanche; even serving her rats for dinner, or dragging her across a room. Situations arise where bodies start to pile-up for one reason or another and, we wait to see if either of the sisters are next up on the chopping block.
What a movie. Director Aldrich plays up the mysterious circumstances of Blanche's car accident using devices from like crime films to find out just who was responsible for it. The movie relies on the Grand Guignol set-up to give it added interest & heft other than being lurid; all leading to a secret revealed that clears up the mystery. Lukas Heller's script is full of devastating insights about human nature. Sure, it's great camp/horror fun, but is also heart-breaking. But stellar as the direction & script is, without Davis & Crawford, the film would be less valuable & entertaining. These actresses have etched these roles into cinema history. And due to the success of this film, it revitalized their waning careers by seamlessly moving them into the direction of other macabre B-movies for their remaining years.
Bette Davis deservedly received her 10th Academy Award nomination here, giving a sour, lip-smacking tour-de-force performance of astonishing venom & piteousness. Davis is so viciously creepy as the former child star who takes utmost pleasure from tormenting her wheelchair-bound sister, Blanche. Her peak moment of dangerous insanity comes when she performs "I've Written a Letter to Daddy" to no one. Watching Davis dressed-up like a little girl {but resembling a demented clown}, trying to recapture the innocence of her childhood as a DEEPLY disturbed older woman is just shocking to watch; her view of the world is so scarily skewed.
Joan Crawford, surprisingly cast in the 'victim' role, is touchingly pitiful, nearly matching Davis in performance quality. It's a slightly more difficult role, actually; because it's so much less showy. But she does have to spend a good deal of the film bound, gagged & in distress; when she's not exuding unbelievable patience & compassion for her crazed sister. In one campy stretch of dialogue, Crawford's Blanche tells Jane: "You wouldn't be able to do these awful things to me if I weren't still in this chair". Davis responds, chillingly: "But ya arrrrrre, Blanche ... ya ARRRRE in that chair". That line delivery goes right through you. As for other cast members, Victor Buono impresses as Edwin Flagg, the sinister pianist who befriends Jane.
Ernest Haller's gleaming black-&-white film noir cinematography & William Glasgow's superb sets are as pivotal to the film as its' two stars are. Although this movie contains violence, cruelty & abuse, underneath the horror flick facade, it really IS about psychological & emotionally complex family relationships. This movie's success spawned other Grand Guignol flicks, like 1964's Hush… Hush, Sweet Charlotte (where Crawford bailed on Davis in the 11th hour, so they got Olivia de Havilland to replace her), & 1969's What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice? (with Ruth Gordon & Geraldine Page). I even loved a 1991 TV movie remake starring real-life sisters Lynn & Vanessa Redgrave. I may have seen THAT version before this 1962 one.
One of the most repeated Hollywood stories concerning the 1962 Oscar night is that Joan Crawford had told the other nominees not-named Bette Davis that should any of them not be able to be there in person ... that she would accept the award for them. Sure enough, when winner Anne Bancroft was unable to be there {was back in NY on Broadway}, Crawford whisked past Davis back stage to take the limelight. Davis would later write in her memoir, "That year, each nominee sat in a separate dressing room backstage... When Anne Bancroft's name was announced, I am sure I turned white. Moments later, Crawford floated down the hall, past my door. I will never forget the look she gave me. It was triumphant. The look clearly said, you didn't win and I am elated!" I just love this juicy Hollywood gossip. Great movie -- and a lasting cinematic gem of psychological twisted entertainment.
Now in the early 1960s, Blanche is a paralyzed invalid; confined to a wheelchair after a tragic car accident years ago, and has become a recluse living with her caustic, woeful older sister in a gloomy, decaying Hollywood mansion from their youth. Jane, who could never handle how far her career slid away from under her, has become an embittered, somewhat deranged alcoholic who takes advantage of the stark change in their situations; getting revenge as her sister's careless caretaker. It is Jane's want to unceasingly torment her sister, Blanche; even serving her rats for dinner, or dragging her across a room. Situations arise where bodies start to pile-up for one reason or another and, we wait to see if either of the sisters are next up on the chopping block.
What a movie. Director Aldrich plays up the mysterious circumstances of Blanche's car accident using devices from like crime films to find out just who was responsible for it. The movie relies on the Grand Guignol set-up to give it added interest & heft other than being lurid; all leading to a secret revealed that clears up the mystery. Lukas Heller's script is full of devastating insights about human nature. Sure, it's great camp/horror fun, but is also heart-breaking. But stellar as the direction & script is, without Davis & Crawford, the film would be less valuable & entertaining. These actresses have etched these roles into cinema history. And due to the success of this film, it revitalized their waning careers by seamlessly moving them into the direction of other macabre B-movies for their remaining years.
Bette Davis deservedly received her 10th Academy Award nomination here, giving a sour, lip-smacking tour-de-force performance of astonishing venom & piteousness. Davis is so viciously creepy as the former child star who takes utmost pleasure from tormenting her wheelchair-bound sister, Blanche. Her peak moment of dangerous insanity comes when she performs "I've Written a Letter to Daddy" to no one. Watching Davis dressed-up like a little girl {but resembling a demented clown}, trying to recapture the innocence of her childhood as a DEEPLY disturbed older woman is just shocking to watch; her view of the world is so scarily skewed.
Joan Crawford, surprisingly cast in the 'victim' role, is touchingly pitiful, nearly matching Davis in performance quality. It's a slightly more difficult role, actually; because it's so much less showy. But she does have to spend a good deal of the film bound, gagged & in distress; when she's not exuding unbelievable patience & compassion for her crazed sister. In one campy stretch of dialogue, Crawford's Blanche tells Jane: "You wouldn't be able to do these awful things to me if I weren't still in this chair". Davis responds, chillingly: "But ya arrrrrre, Blanche ... ya ARRRRE in that chair". That line delivery goes right through you. As for other cast members, Victor Buono impresses as Edwin Flagg, the sinister pianist who befriends Jane.
Ernest Haller's gleaming black-&-white film noir cinematography & William Glasgow's superb sets are as pivotal to the film as its' two stars are. Although this movie contains violence, cruelty & abuse, underneath the horror flick facade, it really IS about psychological & emotionally complex family relationships. This movie's success spawned other Grand Guignol flicks, like 1964's Hush… Hush, Sweet Charlotte (where Crawford bailed on Davis in the 11th hour, so they got Olivia de Havilland to replace her), & 1969's What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice? (with Ruth Gordon & Geraldine Page). I even loved a 1991 TV movie remake starring real-life sisters Lynn & Vanessa Redgrave. I may have seen THAT version before this 1962 one.
One of the most repeated Hollywood stories concerning the 1962 Oscar night is that Joan Crawford had told the other nominees not-named Bette Davis that should any of them not be able to be there in person ... that she would accept the award for them. Sure enough, when winner Anne Bancroft was unable to be there {was back in NY on Broadway}, Crawford whisked past Davis back stage to take the limelight. Davis would later write in her memoir, "That year, each nominee sat in a separate dressing room backstage... When Anne Bancroft's name was announced, I am sure I turned white. Moments later, Crawford floated down the hall, past my door. I will never forget the look she gave me. It was triumphant. The look clearly said, you didn't win and I am elated!" I just love this juicy Hollywood gossip. Great movie -- and a lasting cinematic gem of psychological twisted entertainment.