Mamita querida

It seems almost pointless for me to add any comments here, since everyone else who's posted has done such a great job of summarizing this film's merits, but I can't resist. How do you rate a movie like this? On the one hand, it's one of the worst movies I've ever seen: completely lacking in coherence, shameful acting, writing so bad it seems to be making fun of itself. In fact, I'm still not convinced this movie isn't supposed to be a parody of Christina Crawford's book rather than a serious attempt to adapt it to the screen. On the other hand, it's such a rip-roarin' good time of a show that I'm tempted to give it 10 stars on the strength of its sheer entertainment value alone.

Faye Dunaway gives the most jaw-droppingly mesmerizing freak out ever captured on screen, whose bizarreness cannot even be topped by Halle Berry's Oscar acceptance speech. Dunaway must have realized early on that she was a rat in a sinking ship, but instead of deserting, she decides instead to devour the crew. I don't know if her performance comes anywhere close to capturing the real Joan Crawford, but if Crawford was even a tenth of a percent as loony as Dunaway portrays her here, I would have been high-tailing it to Canada if I were either of her children. The fabulous lines, many of which are quoted on this site, can't really be done justice when removed from the context in which they appear, and you really have to see the faces of the actors as they're delivering them to get the full effect. The wire hanger scene is of course a classic, but it's really the floor scrubbing scene immediately following, with Dunaway in kabuki makeup squatting on the floor like a Sumo wrestler, that remains more memorable. Watching Joanie jog is a sight to behold, especially when she starts talking to herself and scrunching her face up as if she's imitating Alvin or one of his chipmunks. There's the "I can handle the socks" moment, one of the most seductive moments (hee, hee) in film history, and of course the coup de grace comes when Joanie tackles Christina across the coffee table and begins banging her head into the floor like she's in a women's prison movie.

The editing in this film is atrocious. There's no sense of time; events follow each other in a loosely chronological fashion, but they don't make dramatic or narrative sense. Frank Perry, the director, must have been dozing off through much of this production; either that or his film crew carried out a mutiny, tied him up, threw him in a shed, and went ahead without him. But it seems churlish to criticize a film like this for its poor film making. It's like kicking a dead horse.

All I can say is, if you watch this movie with the right people in the right frame of mind (i.e. with alcohol), you will be howling. I watched this with a group in college, and we had to periodically pause the movie in order to allow everyone to recover before continuing. Thank you, Ms. Dunaway, for giving us "Mommie Dearest." The world will never be able to repay you for your kindness.

Grade: F or A+ (depending on your perspective and level of sobriety)

Alright, this might not be too obscure of a movie but when it came out it wasn't well received and pretty much ignored causing it to have a huge cult following. The acting by Dunaway as Joan Crawford is so exaggerated that it seems unbelievable that it's a biographical tale. More than Crawford's story as an actress, this movie deals with the painful, abusive, and traumatic upbringing of her daughter Christina (she wrote the book that prompted the making of this movie). Some say Christina made a lot of it up to destroy her mother's reputation but others say it might be quite accurate. Either way, Dunaway's performance as the Screen Queen is uncanny. She embodies every quality of Crawford and watching the movie you forget that it's not really Joan but Faye in the role. Sure, this movie won Razzie Awards and the producers even tried to capitalize with its failure by billing it "The worst mother of them all." Dunaway even goes as far as telling interviewers beforehand that she will not talk about this movie. One can understand her seeing that she was campaigning for an Oscar nod and instead won the Razzie for worst actress but none of that matters because this movie is now seen as a great tragedy and you'll definitely get lost in the story wondering if everything is true. Oh, and the scenes with Faye Dunaway and Mara Hobel, who plays young Christina Crawford, are amazing. It's no wonder she won the Young Artist Award. Seriously, watch it. The "No more wire hangers" scene alone is enough to watch this great film.

Having read most of the reviews I really expected some terribly acted, campy cult flick. What I got is one of the saddest movies I've ever seen. I've never been a fan of Joan Crawford. Just about the only movie of hers I've ever liked was Mildred Pierce. I've always gotten a bad vibe from her. She seemed hard and cold. This movie just justified my feeling.

I remember the publicity when the book and movie came out. I didn't read the book and didn't watch the movie until today. It is gut wrenching. The story is so well known I don't have to go over it. The is as much Joan's story as it is Christina's and each one is flawed. But Joan was an adult her mental and physical cruelty to Christina is inexcusable. Fay Dunaway did a really wonderful job. Why this ruined her career is beyond me. Christina is more complex as a character and both actresses did a fine job. Neither character is portrayed as blameless and that is why the story is so complex. They are both so very flawed.

The end is just another kick in the gut, the final cruelty in a lifetime of cruelties, and the look in Christina's eyes as the camera fades out is chilling. I can't for the life of me understand why anyone would laugh at anything in this movie or call it campy. I have no idea why Ms. Dunaway refuses to talk about it, or why it ruined her career. She did a helluva job.

This is hard to watch but is worth the time.

Mommie Dearest is the cinematic retelling of Christine Crawford's excoriating autobiography in which she details the psychological and physical abuse she suffered from her mother, legendary Hollywood actress, Joan Crawford. In the film, Joan is played by Faye Dunaway, a role which is widely considered to have derailed her own Hollywood career. Although the film is supposedly based on Christine's story, its centrepiece is very much Joan herself. We witness her romantic dalliances, her battles to remain relevant in the film industry and, most memorably, her fits of ferocious insanity and cold manipulation towards her tormented adopted daughter, Christine (played by both Diana Scarwid and Mara Hobel). This involves seismic freakouts over the use of wire hangers, beatings, an attempt to choke an adolescent Christine to death over a perceived public embarrassment, and continual efforts at the forced feeding of rare meat. All the while, Christine is obligated to refer to her mother as "Mommie Dearest".

As a film which was apparently intended to be a hard-hitting investigation of the horrors of child abuse, this movie has a unique and surprising legacy. It is not recognised critically as a film of value; however, its cultural impact has been significant, particularly for those old enough to remember the controversy surrounding the film's release. As a result, discussions over the film tend to centre around the validity and ethics of its vicious portrayal of a Hollywood icon. Fascinatingly, given its subject matter, the movie has also become a camp classic in the mold of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, where audiences will attend in drag and chant key lines from the film in unison followed by unanimous, raucous laughter. Who ever knew that a film that exposed a celebrated figure as being a child-abuser could be such a hoot...

When it comes to analysing the reasons for the above reception, we could do worse than by turning our attention to the first scene. The main character is filmed from behind as she meticulously bathes her face in a bucket of cold ice before rubbing it with a concoction of steaming liquid potions. The camera is focused on filming her from behind and it only shows her from the neck down. The subject is thus eeriely depersonalised in a way which suggests horror undertones. Now this was no doubt intended to show the extreme dedication and the desperation of Joan's attempt to control every aspect about her, especially her looks, but the film-makers only seem to have one approach to their subject: exaggeration.

This approach continues for the rest of the film as we are exposed to a portrayal that is so dramatic, so manipulative, so unhinged that the character fully enters into the territory of horror villain. Joan is shown in scene after scene screaming, howling, beating, chopping, choking. She is depicted as a raging, spit-flecked psychopath, able to be triggered at the slightest perceived provocation: "NO WIRE HANGERS!" One particular scene shows her as capable of murder as poor Christine's life is almost choked into non-existence as a response to a fairly mild moment of defiance. In the words of the angelic looking child Christine, "For Christ's sake."

Due to such unrelenting exaggeration, the film is not centrally a dramatic portrayal of child abuse or any other social subject. It is, rather, both an intensely focused character study and an exploitationist piece of domestically-situated horror. Despite the views of many, I would argue that this is not due to Faye Dunaway's performance per se, but the way in which her performance is contextualised. When you see the first of Joan's dramatic explosions, it is pretty shocking. Joan is played as relatively composed during the film's initial scenes and the child Christine is essentially cuteness and vulnerability personified. Seeing Joan act so cruelly towards her, therefore, initially has the desired effect. The problem is that the entire focus of the film very quickly shifts to a presentation of undiluted rage and insanity, with the rest of the movie lifelessly punctuating the next histrionic detonation. No craft, ambition or skill is shown by anyone behind the camera in channelling what is, in my view, an exceptional central performance into a fully-developed and insightful narrative experience. After all, is Dunaway's performance, from an acting perspective, any more over-the-top than Robert De Niro's in Raging Bull (note the title here) or Gena Rowlands' in A Woman Under the Influence, or Daniel Day Lewis' in There Will Be Blood? Three cinematic performances that demonstrate unmistakable greatness. I would say no. The difference is that De Niro, Rowlands and Day Lewis' performances exist in a wider narrative which is rich, engaging and is able to ground the respective portrayals. Some people are psychotically unhinged, and Joan was played that way here. From a dramatic perspective, there is nothing wrong with that but the film needs to provide a context in which the performance can be meaningfully understood. If the entire rhythm and pulse of the film is based around a performance that is so intense, you risk going from dramatic character study to camp, scenery-chewing, unintentional laugh-fest.

However, as an appreciator of great acting performances, I can not allow Dunaway's efforts to go unnoticed here. She does not over-act, it is the films architecture which under-delivers. This is, actually, a remarkable feat of acting, and it's a great shame that it is now so often seen as hammy to the point of hilarity. Let's bear in mind, De Niro had Scorcese, Rowlands had Cassavetes and Day Lewis had PT Anderson. Who did Dunaway get? Frank Perry.

As I have no knowledge of Joan Crawford personally, I'll make no comment on the veracity of Dunaway's performance, although, artistically, I'm not sure that matters. I will say, though, that it is clear Dunaway reaches deep within herself to deliver something quite special here. She is intense as hell and completely committed to the madness, insecurity and deep sadness that must motivate the actions and reactions of someone as disturbing as the character we see onscreen. Dunaway does not strike any false notes, her conception is fully realised and has a depth and texture that is there to be felt by those who are able to appreciate it. As a showcase of the immense craft of one of the greatest cinematic actresses of all time, this film is actually a triumph. The fact is; however, Dunaway's performance would have been worthy of one of cinema's greatest dramatic tragedies. Instead it has been doomed to be unappreciated, or, perhaps even worse, contemptuously appreciated, in a film that is widely regarded as a farce.

7/10 (And all 7 of those points belong to Faye)

"Because I am NOT one of your FANS!"

Simply said, this is superb trash. Enjoyable b.s. Faye Dunaway lobbied hard for the role of Joan Crawford (Christina Crawford wanted Anne Bancroft) and she admirably sinks into the part with relish. I loved the opening montage of "Joan" preparing for her day early in the morning: scrubbing her hands and nails, numbing her face in ice cubes, leafing through a script in her car, getting made-up, and then whirling around in her chair and letting loose with a breathy, "Let's go!"... Sadly, Frank Perry's direction is awkward and unsure, cutting off some sequences before they're allowed to build and letting other scenes ramble on. The movie doesn't do justice to the riveting book by Joan's adopted daughter Christina, committing to film the book's highlights, the talked-about bits where Crawford freaked out, but skimping on the details. We learn absolutely nothing about Christina's many tormented years in an L.A. Catholic Boarding School (we see her check in and we see her check out). Joan's marriage to Pepsi czar Alfred Steele and her three other adopted kids are also given the short shrift. What we do get with "Mommie Dearest" is pure, unadulterated Faye. She acts up a storm and revels in these primal opportunities. It's one of the highlights of her spotty career. **1/2 from ****