The other week, I had a dream in which I was terrorized by Faye Dunaway as Joan Crawford. I remember little about the dream outside of the fact that Faye/Joan was incensed about something and screaming at me about it - her face terrifying, flush with fury.
It goes without saying that the symbolism of "angry Joan Crawford," made possible by Mommie Dearest, has ingratiated itself into, and endured as a component of, Crawford's legacy. Crawford's bitter rivalry with Bette Davis stands as another component of this legacy, recently publicized and manifested by Ryan Murphy's Feud: Bette & Joan. It's safe to say that these properties have helped immortalize Crawford to the collective wisdom as a dramatic public figure, her prowess as a skilled dramatic actress known more so to cinephiles and actressphiles such as myself (and perhaps you, dear reader).
I myself am guilty of forgetting about Crawford's talents as an actress, even though I really ought to know better by now. Sudden Fear, Crawford's last Academy Award-nominated performance, is a palpable reminder that there's much more to the actress beyond the feuds, the grandeur, the tempestuousness, the pettiness.
What's striking about Sudden Fear is that, despite the film's title, it functions as a heavily romantic film for the first forty minutes. We're greeted with swelling opening credits. Crawford, playing a famous playwright named Myra Hudson, has a new play about to debut called "Halfway to Heaven". Sudden Fear's first verses of dialogue belong to Jack Palance, who is tasked to perform a grotesquely sappy monologue written by Myra:
"...You are all the women in my life. You are the sister I never had. The mother I've almost forgotten. The wife I have always dreamed of. There isn't a relationship you can name which exists between a man and a woman of which I wouldn't say: let it be you. Oh let it be you."
Apparently, Palance's Lester doesn't do the monologue justice. Myra denies him the male lead in her play because she doesn't think he embodies her idea of a "romantic leading man," though that's somehow completely contradicted when she eventually crosses paths with him on a train ride from New York to San Francisco - she falls in love with him and they embark on a whirlwind romance, as characters of old Hollywood movies tend to do.
Take into account that the aforementioned monologue is written from the perspective of a lonely woman - she lives by herself in a massive San Francisco mansion, and, while not expressly referenced, it's quite clear that Myra is a woman of a certain age, and has entered the earliest stages of spinsterhood. This not only provides dimension to the seemingly hasty speed in which she falls for Lester, but also imbues a key moment in the first act - after catching him packed up and ready to leave town, she gazes at him, pitiful, broken, and tells him, "without you I have nothing" - it's such a fragile moment, made all the more possible by an innate grace and elegance that's trademark Crawford.
But the brilliance of Crawford's performance in Sudden Fear lies in her near-silence during moments of intense drama. A six minute sequence in which Myra reacts to a recording that reveals her husband to be a greedy, would-be killer after her fortune is a remarkable, complicated display of heartbreak segueing into horror. My favorite scene out of the entire picture is when Myra has concocted a plan to kill Lester in Irene's apartment, and she catches her own reflection in the mirror, gun in hand. What follows is some devastating acting from Crawford, who swiftly steers through shock, shame and disbelief - an emblem of raw emotion splattered across a glamorous veneer. The two scenes may as well have been pulled from a silent picture, and together they act as a powerful showcase for an actress who is completely attuned to optimally presenting herself in front of a camera.
With all the histrionics and campy bitchiness associated with Mommie Dearest and Feud: Bette & Joan, you forget that Crawford is an extraordinarily graceful screen presence, more than capable of channeling tenderness and fragility when it's required of her. She'd be mortified over the fact that her legacy is moreso tied to the dramas of her personal life versus the filmography and respect she fought so hard for. If anything else, I leave Sudden Fear with a reinvigorated reminder of the woman's craft, and of all the special Crawford performances I've seen throughout the years (her work in The Women stands as one of my all-time favorite supporting performances). I hope that this review points others toward that direction as well.
I think Joan Crawford's diligence as an actress is exemplified by the fact (my fact?) that she grew as an actress over the course of her career. She was good but inconsistent early on but by the time of 'The Women' (a favorite of mine, as well) she'd hit her stride. Her work at Warner Brothers was primarily in melodramas, but she was a vivid presence capable of resonant characterizations. Bette Davis gets most of the credit for 'Baby Jane' but her performance and the film wouldn't work as well if not for Crawford, whose performance was quieter but no less accomplished.
ReplyDeleteThat said, 'Sudden Fear' is not one of my favorites of hers, neither the film nor her performance. The premise is just to the left of preposterous and it's extremely melodramatic. I also think Crawford over-stresses her emotional moments at times with odd facial expressions because she's trying too hard, although I get exactly what you're saying in the scene where she sees her own reflection (she started in silent films and knew that technique). I just think she's better in some of her non-nominated performances.
I completely agree with you on your thoughts about Crawford's oeuvre. She was a diligent, accomplished professional who worked at her craft and became a fine actress who gave many memorable performances. I hate the 'bitch goddess-Mommie Dearest-Bette Davis' trifecta that tends to obscure her work because the evidence is right there on the screen that there was so much more to this woman than that claptrap. And I respect and appreciate that you said so, Allen. Another great, well-written review.
Thank you! You know, after viewing Sudden Fear and throwing together this write-up, I'm curious about viewing Humoresque and Daisy Kenyon. I'd be curious what some of your other favorite Crawford films are.
DeleteHer work in The Women is divine. So much excellent female talent and not a single nomination to be had = a travesty that I can't get over! I'd have nominated Crawford and Russell in a heartbeat (maybe Shearer, though I don't remember her as fondly).
I think she's terrific in 'Humoresque'. I would also recommend 'A Woman's Face', 'The Damned Don't Cry', 'Harriet Craig' and, if you haven't seen it yet, 'Baby Jane' - where she's every bit as good as Davis (who's excellent).
DeleteI totally understand your enthusiasm, it's a very entertaining and thought-through performances (but personally, I rank her a bit lower :) )
ReplyDeleteHonestly, in retrospect I sway back and forth on whether I want to give her a three or a four. There's so much meat in the two scenes mentioned that there's little to be had in all the rest of her performance.
DeleteThat said, I'm inclined to keep it as is only because I feel like I'd have to watch it again if I wanted to settle the score once and for all, but I have to keep things moving instead of dwelling on 1952 for even more time than I've already spent :-\