A Dominadora

Joan Crawford shines as George Kelly's Craig's Wife, which had been made as a film some years earlier with Rosalind Russell, hence the title change. Joan is far better suited to the role, and closer to the right age. As a controlling, materialistic, unfeeling housewife, she is perfect, and is better than I've ever seen her. Crawford clearly understands this woman and doesn't play for sympathy. Yet we can sense her identification with the character, which is complete. SHE has sympathy for the monstrous Harriet, and we can feel it. There is a touch of Pirandello-ish identification here, and it comes through loud and clear; and yet for all this, Miss Crawford is never hammy. She is a thorough pro, and gives us a Craig's Wife that Harriet Craig would herself heartily approve of.

"Harriet Craig" started out as a stage success – obviously, it struck familiar chords – and saw at least one previous film version (Craig's Wife, starring Rosalind Russell). Remade in 1950 with Joan Crawford commandeering the part of the domestic despot, the movie takes on a dimension that helped define camp. It also offers an unadulterated middle-period glimpse of the controlling monsters she had begun (Mildred Pierce, Humoresque) and continued (Torch Song, Johnny Guitar, Queen Bee) to play on film. (And, if there is a sliver of verity in her adopted daughter Cristina's report from the front lines, such roles paralleled her off-screen personality).

It's a parable about the dangers of social ascendancy, an illustration of Thorstein Veblen's view of the affluent wife as agent of conspicuous consumption. Joan Crawford's Harriet Craig has it all: a husband in a grey flannel suit on his way up the corporate ladder (Wendell Corey), and so can buy her what she most desires: property and position. She's obsessed with who does and does not fit in with what she refers to as `our set' as she strikes poses in her perfect (and perfectly dull) upper-middle-class abode.

That her only interest in her husband is as a meal ticket is revealed by her avoiding her wifely obligations under the pretext that bearing children would be dangerous. But she's not content to leave him be, maybe to enjoy a little action on the side; what might the other members of their `set' think? She craves total control. When he's about to go out of town on a business trip, thus slithering out at least temporarily from under her oppressive thumb, she intervenes, lying to his boss that he's a compulsive gambler. Finally, of course, the worm turns.... But, in the closing shot, when Crawford regally ascends her curved staircase alone among the splendor of her possessions, you wonder who's really won after all.

This soapish melodrama remains surprisingly riveting. Perhaps it's the extra touch of authenticity Crawford brings to her portrayal (Mary Tyler Moore played a later version of this upscale shrew in Ordinary People; then of course there's always Martha Stewart). The movie preserves an uncanny sense of upward mobility in America, circa midcentury, a lugubrious self-importance that has not, alas, vanished from the land.

What a total hoot this movie is... Joan Crawford, in FULL authority (matched only by her even more imperious turn in the later "Queen Bee") runs her ideal house and the people in it as though she were a puppeteer and her husband and servants are nothing more than marionettes at her disposal. The fun begins right off the bat as the staff trudges up and down her magnificent staircase and flutter about tending to her every whim. None of this is good enough for her, though. She takes turns knocking the wind out of each of their sails for things like taking too long, using the wrong steps and allowing unwanted flowers to enter her home. Her attention to detail and monstrous obsession with order HAD to influence the makers of the character-assassinating, but uproariously funny "Mommie Dearest". Every move Crawford makes in this film is calculated and played for maximum impact. Her expressions are tight and telling. It's impossible to take one's eyes off her...especially with her array of stylishly scary outfits and severely unflattering hair. There's a perverse thrill in watching Crawford browbeat Grandma Walton (Corby)! Battered husband Corey (often cast as dull or menacing men) is a perfect counterpart here with a rare chance to show off some of his charm and appeal. Watson adds some sly wisdom to the proceedings as Corey's boss's wife and McKinney stands up to Joan very well as a long-term maid. At 94 minutes, the film is PERFECT entertainment when one is in the mood for some campy, classic fun.

What a movie, starring Joan Crawford at her most imperious. She demands everything in her house, including her servants, her relatives, and her good-natured husband, Wendell Corey, who barely escapes becoming Richard Cory, be exactly the way she wants it. Crawford is She Who Must Be Obeyed. She's devious. She lies to everyone shamelessly, blasphemously. She browbeats subordinates. She's as convincing as a psychopath. I would have laughed all the way through but my mirth was subdued by the activation of latent memories of my own marriage.

Crawford is perfect in the part. She was at an age at which she was given dark eyebrows the width of a highway dividing line and a severe hair do that brought out the chrome steel of her unforgiving features. It's her best performance, although not in the way she or director Vincent Sherman intended.

I wonder if it would ever have been made if "Leave Her To Heaven", a much more subtle film, hadn't been such a success. And I think Crawford's performance here may have been the dam that begat "Mommie Dearest." In these kinds of movies, Crawford was always either the victim of spite and contempt, as in "Mildred Pierce", or the purveyor of it. She purveys it magnificently.

"Queen Bee" had a better title, but if you want to see Joan Crawford at her hissable best, this is the one you want! Playing Mrs. Craig, Joan is more Joan than ever. She runs her home with an invisible whip, snaking around her relatives with the sneaky, sinister airs of a cobra. And when that final dramatic sequence comes, you will be beaten and bowed but will applaud a relievedly fine comeuppance. Based on George Kelly's play "Craig's Wife", the film has a stagy look and direction, but you can't beat the title character for a worthy villainess. Harriet is a suburban monster, a notch or two above Mary Tyler Moore's character in "Ordinary People", and Crawford gives one of her best performances in the juicy part. **1/2 from ****