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Joan Crawford's least likable character could be the one she played in this film, as a controlling and vindictive woman of wealth who runs and ruins (or nearly ruins) the lives of all those whom she has relationships with in her large southern plantation mansion. Apparently the relationships come out of her money and their lack of it, as well as the level of her misdirected intelligence and lack of empathy for others, none of which gets explained very fully. Even to her own children, the product of her marriage to heavy drinking philosophizing character played by Barry Sullivan, she shows a cold disregard, especially the choice of a nanny, who's even meaner than Joan. Into this dysfunction comes Jennifer Stewart as a young cousin from Chicago who upsets the strange family chemistry that has been developing over the years, befriending the poor kids, and catching a lot of eyes. John Ireland seems a natural as the one guy who can and does (in some well done scenes) stand up to Queen Bee Joan, presenting his usual suppressed aversion to injustice while also straddling the fence. It's worth sticking with for the ending.

There's only one real reason to see this film, and it's for Joan Crawford, who is a hoot in nearly every scene she is in. Though there is no real depth to any of the characters here, it does feature a pretty good supporting cast: Barry Sullivan, John Ireland...even Fay Wray turns up. Joan dishes out one nasty one-liner after the next...shredding apart the people around her. You can tell she must have had a lot of fun "playing" this role. Lucy Marlow is a little annoying as Jennifer, but her character gradually changes. Betsy Palmer as Carol, is pretty good. I wasn't too fond of the ending, it just seemed like it was tacked on, but that didn't keep me from enjoying the rest of the film. I'd watch it again, just because of Joan.

Now, I am a big Joan Crawford fan and have been since I was 12 (don't ask) and this has to be my favorite film of hers, which is saying a lot. It is so campy and over the top, it's hard to believe that everyone was taking themselves so seriously. From Joan's drag queen gowns (check out the black sequin number she wears just to eat dinner in!) to her bitchy, back stabbing dialogue: "Carol, don't you look sweet, even in those tacky old riding clothes" and "Darling, parties are to women what battlefields are to men but then... you weren't in the war were you? Something about drinking..." And just wait for the scene were Joan destroys a room with a riding crop. Not to mention where she smears her vanity mirror with cold cream in order to cover her over emoting reflection. This is a camp classic of monumental proportions and one that you will want to watch several times!!!

The producers of "Mommie Dearest" clearly took copious notes

from the real-life Crawford canon; traces of everything from

"Mildred Pierce" to "Harriet Craig" to "Strait-Jacket" show up in that

biopic-from-hell, but the film it most closely resembles is the 1955

cult classic, "Queen Bee."

Scenes of an imperious Crawford being served coffee in bed;

destroying a bedroom with a riding crop (wire hanger?); and her

children crying out in the dark are lifted directly from this movie;

and Crawford's stunning appearances in various Jean Louis

gowns--descending a grand staircase, posing in a doorway,

preening in front of a mirror--are a harbinger of the demented

fashion show Faye Dunaway would put on in her Crawford

assasination.

Like her rival, Bette Davis, Crawford is best-known for villanous

roles like this, although neither she nor Davis often played bitches;

but the times they did, the performances were so over-the-top, it's

what we remember them for. "Queen Bee" is the ultimate

late-period Crawford vehicle; she dominates every scene, even

when she doesn't directly appear in it, and her elegant bitchery is a

marvel to behold. No one, but simply no one, could throw a fur

stole over her shoulder like Joan Crawford, and certainly no one

could top her as an obsessive-compulsive, castrating shrew.

Crawford herself was happier playing heroines (like the "young"

widow of "Female on the Beach," or the brilliant playwright in

"Sudden Fear"), but she clearly was even more compelling in

full-on bitch mode. As cruel, evil and thoughtless as her character

may be, Crawford handles it with such glamour and panache, you

secretly find yourself rooting for her.

Joan Crawford is in her element here! As a deceitful, manipulative woman with the Medusa touch she's in her glory. You get the feeling she's enjoying herself immensely. Hell, you even get the feeling she's enjoying the costumes! She tears into the part of Eva Phillips as if it were her last meal, and takes the rest of the cast along for the ride. They don't make movies like this anymore and it's a shame. It's good, clean, sinister fun with Joan in control every step of the way.