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After choosing George Cukor's "The Women" I was skeptical of its premise at first. I became quickly surprised at how often I found myself enjoying each catty scene or insult along with the characters' prima donna behavior. The story was two hours of hilarious female innuendo's and clever insults along with a deeper story between Mary, her daughter, and the familiar intricacies of divorce. The cast was perfect in their roles, each one bringing their own flair to the script. The all-female cast molded well gabbing amongst one another in a relentless barrage of gossip. I enjoyed this movie much more than I thought and I especially liked the end scene where all the women go at it. I recommend this movie to anybody who enjoys the genre.

The fact that Norma Shearer and Joan Crawford would consent to appear in a movie together is amazing. Shearer in 1939 was the queen of MGM, being the widow of studio production chief Irving Thalberg, and had her choice of material and co-stars. Crawford, although a power in her own right, didn't have Shearer's pull and complained bitterly about it. Crawford fought to take the somewhat supporting, albeit juicy, role because she needed an A picture after a string of flops. So she had to suck it up to work with Shearer.

The two stars had only one scene alone together, and there were no reported problems while filming, except one. Director George Cukor sent Crawford home early when she caused a distraction by loudly clicking her knitting needles off camera as Shearer tried to do her close-ups.

Crawford was proved right in taking the movie, it's one of her most memorable and, finally for once, villainous roles. As Crystal Allen, the scheming homewrecker who is out to sleep her way to a Park Avenue penthouse, she was ideally cast. It was her life.

Rosalind Russell, previously not known as a comedienne, surprised everyone with her rapid-fire sarcastic delivery. She would continue to perfect the biting style for 20 years until she reached the pinnacle with Auntie Mame. Roz gives the strongest performance of the film as the spitefully catty Sylvia Fowler, and I don't think Shearer and Crawford knew what hit them.

As for the long-suffering, hair-clutching, heavy-sighing Norma Shearer, even she was able to make the thankless role of noble Mary Haines memorable. One of her best moments is when she raises her nails and growls "I've had two years to grow claws, Mother, and they're Jungle Red!," and then goes to take her husband back from Crawford. Shearer has a few Silent Screen moments that look out of place, such as collapsing and weeping at her mother's knee. But she makes the character warm and likable and we root for her to win.

There are many gems in the all-female supporting cast. Most spectacular is Mary Boland as the heavy-drinking, high-living Countess De Lave. "L'amour L'amour" she wails as she's about to divorce her fourth studly husband -- for trying to kill her.

Paulette Goddard, the most beautiful member of the cast, is the best I've seen her, as the streetwise Miriam Aarons. Like Crawford, she plays a role she understands, the chorus girl who snags a millionaire. But unlike Crystal, Miriam has a heart -- and Goddard is great at doling out straight-shooting advice and rolling out put-downs under her breath.

Marjorie Main gives a preview of the persona she would later use as Ma Kettle. It was the first time she was able to step out and create the character, and she used it the rest of her career. I never tired of her raucous horse laugh.

I hope Hollywood has the good sense not to update this classic with another misguided remake. It is a priceless diamond in a golden setting.

This, by far, is the greatest classic bitch film of all time. It can never be equaled. They tried, but failed, when trying to remake it a musical with a less than glamorous casting of the roles made famous by the all-star female cast of the original written by Clare Boothe Luce. George Cukor, the director, had his hands full with the likes of these dames of fame. Each, in their own right, could steal a scene if left up to them, and they tried. But Cukor, held tight to the reins and kept them all in line. The beginning credits were cleverly done with each star being represented by an animal. Norma Shearer, the doe; the delicious Joan Crawford, a tiger; Roz Russell a cat; Paulette Goddard, a fox; Marjorie Main, a mule; Joan Fontaine, a lamb.

My favorite scenes were the fight scene with Goddard and Russell, bath scene with Crawford, and last scene when all THE WOMEN go at it at the ball. With wonderful, crisp dialogue, beautiful costumes designed by Adrian and a stellar cast, you can see the sparks fly in this all-time classic comedy of 1939.

A TCM announcer said the classic cat fight of all times was in this movie. It is a humdinger. But it doesn't start at the ranch -- it runs all the way through!

So much has been noted about it, but wanted to comment on something about the Joan Crawford character. She works at a sales counter, yet has a nice place of her own and great clothes. She played a lot of shop girls, always having a knockout wardrobe, including over the top evening clothes and a very well appointed apartment. In the real world, a sales girl would have to be living at home or at the Y or have at least one roommate, and wouldn't be able to afford an expensive wardrobe. But, this is the movies, and we enjoy it that way.

Also, really enjoyed Virginia Grey's part as the savvy sales girl who prickles Crystal while she's on the phone with Steven. "Holy mackerel, what a line!" With so much cleverness going on, that sequence doesn't get much mention, but she was priceless.

How about that beauty clinic! What a setup.

And we do love to admire the clothes, which were so interesting then, their dressing up so much. There's a lot to check out in this picture, as well as catching the snappy lines, as has been mentioned here. Yep, play it again, Sam-antha.

It's funny to read people arguing "The Women" is a flawed movie because it no longer speaks to who or what women are today. Does the same metric apply to "The Scarlet Letter" or "Anna Karenina"? Of course not. They are timeless classics. So is "The Women".

The setting is Manhattan, at a time when women enjoyed some newly acquired independence but still had to find their way in a world built by and for men. Mary Haines (Norma Shearer) treasures the company of her loving husband, but the wool is rather roughly pulled from her eyes and she is left to discover he's been stepping out with shopgirl Crystal Allen (Joan Crawford).

What makes "The Women" great? Having an entire film with no male characters is a cool trick, but doesn't guarantee re-watchability. What clicks starts with a zesty, witty script, written by Anita Loos and Jane Murfin from a Claire Booth play. It doesn't conceal the hurt of marital separation so much as send up the associated entanglements stirred up by an idle, jealous set that holds court over Mary's world.

At its vortex, more essential to the comedy's success than either Crawford or Shearer, is Rosalind Russell's performance as Mary's conniving cousin Sylvia Fowler. She shouldn't be so enjoyable, but she is. When you think of it, Sylvia's by far the nastiest character in the film. At least Crystal has a profit motive. "You can't bear Mary's happiness" is how one bystander puts it to Sylvia, and she's right.

Russell's ability to seize the comic high ground throughout, mugging up a storm, taking pratfalls, and even biting Paulette Goddard's calf, goes a large way to making "The Women" such a blast. Russell's as much fun as Olivier was playing Richard III, twisting Mary into a pointless confrontation with Crystal with her cruel dig: "No doubt that girl will make a perfectly good stepmom for your daughter." But just try hating Sylvia. You can't!

I relish the whole cast. It's quite a large one, Dickens-like not only in mass but in the number of distinctive characterizations. It's not an especially deep story, though there are emotional resonances and points worth discussing and debating. That goes especially for Mary's parleys with her mother (Lucile Watson), who tells her to ignore hubby's affair and "keep still". The mother wishes times were simpler, and women didn't have the option of not tolerating a husband's infidelity. You can question the rationale, but their scenes have impact.

Shearer has the toughest job in the film playing the good-hearted victim. She's not as self-conscious there as her critics say; she's limited not by her talent but by the script. She can't even play it too naive as Joan Fontaine has that territory sewn up as Mary's gentlest friend. So Shearer works it down the middle, milks some tears, and hangs around long enough to deliver the film's greatest line, one you know already if you've seen it. And she nails it...purrfectly.

Crawford is surprisingly absent for much of the film, given she has second billing. She does make every scene she's in count. Mary Boland is a wonderfully affected older woman married and dropped by a parade of husbands - including one who pushed her off a mountain. Even Goddard, more pretty than talented in roles I've seen of hers, crafts an effective identity as a Crystal-like character who winds up one of Mary Haines' sisters-in-arms.

The more I see "The Women", the tougher time I have identifying anything really not good about it. Even a lengthy fashion show, a segment that was shot in Technicolor and which director George Cukor is on record regretting, doesn't feel off-the-beam. I love watching Russell in her glasses knitting and pretending not to be bothered by the pretty models she believes are competing for her husband's attention.

There's just a lot to see and enjoy with "The Women". What can I say? I'm a guy. I suspect any woman giving this half a chance will have even more fun than I did.