Rivalités

Paramount Pictures assigned star Producer Joseph E Levine to bring the torrid best seller roman a clef of the Lana Turner Johnny Stompanato murder to the screen. Levine cast surefire box office queen Susan Hayward to play "Lana, and to play the other strong female role, the one and only Ms. Bette Davis. There was a long time interest to see these two great stars in a film. Directed by Edward Dymtryk the film is a powerhouse with great acting by Susan Hayward and Bette Davis. I wish they had cast another actor other than Mike Connors in the role of Hayward's lover and Ann Margret rather than Joey Heatheron. Ms. Hayward got top billing over Ms. Davis--the first time in her great career Bette Davis was billed under another great female star!-- and wore great stylish outfits by Edith Head. It is now well known that Bette Davis and Susan Hayward did not get along at all during filming. Susan Hayward was afraid of Bette's well known use of tricks and since Susan Hayward had both cast approval and script approval and top billing, had Bette Davis boxed in. No changes were allowed. In fairness, the script did need more juice and a tougher script would have benefited the talents of Susan Hayward nd Bette Davis. Bette Davis carped about Susan Hayward until her death, and Susan Hayward joined Joan Crawford, Miriam Hopkins on Bette's "hate list". (Soon to be joined by Faye Dunaway and Lillian Gish. Where Love Has Gone with top notch Paramount production values is an old fashioned film and is best seen to see two great movie stars Susan Hayward and Bette Davis!

I don't think my comment is worth ten lines but I'll try, the little I have to say I want to say it because this is one of those really bad movies I like. The kind of bad movie with little treasures buried in it. Bette Davis and Susan Hayward as mother and daughter and let's stop right there for a moment. Two actresses who never took the easy way out. That, in itself, makes the movie a collector's item and, I guess it is. Then, based on a Harold Robbins best seller based on the Lana Turner, Johnny Stompanato's affair, remember? Lana's daughter stabbed Johnny Stompanato, her mother's lover and, it seems, her lover too That should be enough to make a classic melodrama. Unfortunately, a classic, this one, it ain't'. But a must for movie nuts, like me.

Society sculptress in San Francisco marries a war veteran, a man who quickly turns to the bottle after failing to carve out his own niche away from the realm of his domineering mother-in-law; sometime later, the daughter they share apparently kills mom's lover in a jealous rage. Harold Robbins' best-selling roman à clef lifts its subplot from the real-life Lana Turner-Johnny Stompanato case, and those bits and pieces are rather interesting. However, much of the movie is spent with bickering marrieds Susan Hayward and inert Michael Connors trading barbs, and the promising idea loses its impetus and becomes a stillborn soaper. Connors, heavily made-up and with lacquered black hair that never changes during the story's many years, twitches and twists his mouth into a grimace throughout the entire picture, only coming to life while tipsy in a brief dinner scene. Hayward fares better, but her slurpy, silly lines are pure camp ("You're a kept-man, not a war hero! And a drunk! A drunk! A DRUNK!"). Bette Davis is pretty much wasted as Hayward's mother (who would've thought a film co-starring these two high-powered ladies could be so dull?) and Joey Heatherton scowls continuously as the teenager in trouble (I loved her retort. Though, about how she lost her virginity: "It happened horseback riding!"). Tatty-looking picture has some fun trappings--Susan's round bed, Princess telephones, fashions that often match the room décor--but the plot is lazy and Edward Dmytryk's direction is completely rote. One Oscar nomination: for the cheesy title song composed by Jimmy Van Heusen and Sammy Cahn. *1/2 from ****

...when films of 1960-1965 had one foot in the demure production code era and one foot in the budding sexual revolution.

After the credits open with some horrid MOR song over idyllic shots of San Francisco, we cut to the action. Joey Heatherton stabs Rick Lazich in the presence of her mother (Susan Hayward), who had him as her latest boyfriend. Heatherton's dad (Mike Conners) flies in for appearance's sake, since he's there at the sufferance of Grandma (Bette Davis in another of her juicy later career roles) who controls everything.

We get a flashback to how Conners and Hayward married and divorced. Although, this is a flashback to some alternate-universe 1944 in which the US is still at war but everybody wears 1960s fashions and hairstyles. Conners is a war hero; Hayward a sculptress; Davis interferes in their marriage and gets all of the bankers in Frisco to make it so that Conners can only go back to her family business rather than start his own architecture firm. Hayward sleeps around (presumably) with her models while Conners drinks himself into a divorce.

Back in the present day, the killing is deemed a justifiable homicide, but Heatherton is kept in juvie while the courts can figure out who, if anybody should get custody of her. George Macready plays Davis' lawyer; Jane Greer comes from out of the past to play a social worker; and DeForrest Kelly plays Hayward's art dealer (Jim, I'm a doctor, not an art critic!).

Davis overacts and delivers pointed bons mots; Hayward wears big hair and recites some terribly overripe lines; Conners gets to be wooden; and Heatherton cries "Daddy!" all the time; you almost expect her to break out into the "I've Written a Letter to Daddy" song that appears at the beginning of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? And then there's an ending that makes no sense.

If you're looking for a serious movie, I'd rate it a 3/10. But if you're looking for the sort of turgid, over-the-top potboiler where you yell back at the screen and laugh at the absurdity of it all, I'd give it an 8/10. It's not quite as "so bad it's good" as Valley of the Dolls or Torch Song, but it's an eminently entertaining disaster nonetheless. I split the difference to give it a 6/10.

Just one more thing. Bette Davis is only nine years older than Susan Hayward, but very credibly looks like her mother. Part of that was that Bette Davis, dish that she was when she was young, aged very poorly for whatever reason. The other part is makeup. In contrast, Susan Hayward aged very well, as short as her life was, and she looks nowhere near 47 here, which was her actual age.

Fans of great "bad movies" should lap this up like a bowl of frosting. Loosely based on the Lana Turner-Johnny Stompanato-Cheryl Crane murder incident, Harold Robbins fashioned a novel to cash in on and exploit the gossipy tale. This resultant film carries on the tradition in high, campy style complete with hilarious "racy" dialogue, glamorously sanitized sexual shenanigans, concerned social workers, over the top sets and decor and signature Edith Head costumes. Velvet-voiced crooner Jack Jones (later to be immortalized as the pipes heard in "The Love Boat" theme song) kicks off the film with a yummy title song against dreamy shots of San Francisco. Hayward stars as a socialite sculptress who finds herself paired with WWII hero Conners. Her gorgon-like mother (Davis) steers them toward marriage, yet, when Conners doesn't do her bidding, pulls out all the stops to destroy the union and press for a divorce. The marriage does produce a daughter (Heatherton) who, years later, finds herself in juvenile hall after filleting one of Hayward's live-in lovers. Though the tale spans twenty years, Conners and Hayward (and Davis!) look exactly the same throughout. The hair, clothes and furnishings show no evolution, nor any feel for the period. (Hayward has her customary bouffant bubble 'do which she wore in virtually every film from the '50's on, no matter what the time, place or character!) Hayward frets and yells and suffers while draped in fur accented suits (or sometimes in her uproarious sculpting scarves) with her bizarre accent fully in place. Somewhat paunchy Davis sashays around in her pretty concoctions, wearing an intriguing grey wig and doling out orders. At times she resembles her old nemesis Joan Crawford and one could easily picture her in the part as well. Conners does all right, though no matter what histrionics he could come up with, there's no room for him in this film. The battle royale is between Hayward and Davis. Davis was already miffed at Hayward for just having remade "Dark Victory" as "The Stolen Hours". Then there were differences over the script with Davis reworking scenes until finally Hayward pulled her weight and demanded that the script be shot as originally written (which was no Pulitzer Prize winner.) Later, Davis had yet another battle (which she won) over how her character's fate should be played out. The animosity between these two women is palpable. Amid all the soapy trappings and turgid dramatics, there is some really hateful fire and some awesomely bitter moments between them, which are fun to behold. Anyone wanting to get plastered should do a shot every time one note Heatherton whines the word "Daddy". Nearly twenty belts of booze ought to do anyone in! She is hilariously bratty and annoying, though she does get some decent licks in, notably in a scene with Seymour. Greer shows up as a sympathetic and concerned case worker. She holds her own with dignity against the fire-breathing Hayward. The dialogue is riotous throughout with some lines actually eliciting guffaws. The lawyer has a great one about the deceased and his relationships with the mother-daughter team, "He wasn't any good at double entry bookkeeping, but he was great at double entry housekeeping". "Star Trek" fans will be startled to see Kelley in a film like this, referring to the bedroom habits of Hayward. In the source novel, Davis' character comes across far more sympathetically, though that may not have been as interesting for the cinema. Also, Conners' character had a devoted second wife who was carrying his child. Most of the novel's plot line made it to the screen, however, though the film's ending is far less happy. There's very little resembling reality in this movie, but thank God for it. It's a glossy, pseudo-sordid potpourri of theatrics and glitz with occasional verbal fireworks.