Une femme diabolique

Joan does her big eyebrow look again in this film about a true bitch in heat. Here she is an "outsider" who traps Barry Sullivan, scion of a good Southern family, into marriage and proceeds to make his life a living hell. For that matter, she makes everyone who surrounds her a target for her venom. She is truly a psychotic whose greatest thrill is to destroy everything and everyone within her circle of influence.

She has a passion for her husband's friend, played by John Ireland who just happens to be engaged to her husband's sister. After she rides roughshod over those two with tragic results, she starts on her cousin, an innocent who is visiting this Garden of Eden. Probably a big mistake since this leads to further trouble ending in a denouement that you can see coming from a mile away. Very tidy.

Is this a good film? Depends if you like Crawford at her histrionic best, chewing up both the scenery and her co-stars. But again, as another reviewer said, you will like this movie if you love Crawford or if you hate her. She's that good. It's one of those soap opera plots that were popular in the 50s and it will hold your interest, if only to see if Joan gets her come-uppance. Don't be embarrassed if you find yourself liking this film......you're in good company.

Maybe I'm going out on a limb here, but having seen a great many of her movies, I would say that Joan Crawford was at her bitchiest in this picture. That is to say, bitchier than usual! She tears at the scenery, she tears at the script, and brother I feel sorry for her co-stars, because even though they are also a talented group, they of course don't stand a chance when Crawford's on the screen, which is basically every scene. Although her character doesn't appear right away, it's still obvious from the very start that this is a very, very Crawford movie. The film just instantaneously gives off that omen. The gist of the story is this: Crawford is a glamorous socialite who dominates her Southern family and takes great pride in doing so. Yes, we've seen Crawford play this type of role before(HARRIETT CRAIG), but I personally never tire of seeing Crawford getting the upper hand. Though they didn't get along too well in real life, Joan Crawford and Bette Davis had much in common when it came to choice of movie scripts. They both specialized in playing catty, indomitable females, and they both clearly relished doing so. Crawford is at her best in this one. Sure, the script isn't the greatest she's been given, and frankly it's pretty sleazy stuff, but Crawford does wonders with it and manages to turn in her finest performance. She clearly works at the part and isn't simply clawing and nailing at everyone around her. Even though her character is an absolute horror of a human being, Crawford does her best to make her a sympathetic one, and she just about pulls it off! Some people will discard this one as pure camp, but this is a movie that serious Joan Crawford fans like myself will treasure, and no doubt watch over and over again. Terrific!!!!!

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.

A guilty pleasure if I ever saw one. Directect by Ranald McDougall, even his name reads like a misspell, he was the writer of Mildred Pierce and clearly Crawford trusted him. Look at her entrance, from a distance, a subtle and no so subtle game of light and music. The turgid tale of evil and deception suffers from holes in every angle but this is not the sort of picture that can afford that kind of scrutiny. This is a showcase for the late term Crawford die hard fans. You wont be able to help but admire her devastating self confidence. She knew every trick in the book as an actress as well as a character. Queen Bee goes bye fast very fast and the moral compass is determined by Lucy Marlow when in fact it needed a sort of Anne Baxter or someone with a bit more gravitas. To be seen with a bunch of like minded friends and laugh out loud.

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.