What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?

There are other of Joan's films that I like her better in, but there are no other of Joan's 80+ films that I've given 5 stars to as a whole. This film is stunning: Writing, acting (both stars and co-players), editing, cinematography---just about every choice here is disturbingly powerful. I've seen Baby Jane maybe 8 or 9 times in the past 30 years (including twice on the big-screen), so it's kind of hard to come at it from a fresh perspective. But I try:

Baby Jane (Bette Davis) and Blanche (Joan Crawford) Hudson are ageing former-star sisters (one vaudeville, one movie) who currently share a Los Angeles home, where Jane is now caretaker for the wheelchair-bound Blanche. Pre-credits, the first 15 minutes of the film set up the sisters' psychological back story: In the first scene, Baby Jane is a successful, bratty child vaudevillian star circa 1917 who performs schmaltzy tunes like "I've Written a Letter to Daddy"---with her daddy introducing and accompanying her. Baby Jane (who even has her own doll for sale) and her daddy are the stars, and mom and sister Blanche are the meek onlookers (resentful, in Blanche's case). Cut to 1935: Blanche has now become the big Hollywood star, who nonetheless still remains loyal to sister Jane, even getting her movie roles, despite the mockery of Hollywood directors for Jane's poor screen performances. (We viewers only see Jane and Blanche here via the actual 1930s Bette and Joan film clips that the director and assistant are watching.) At the end of this '30s sequence, the two sisters (faces unseen) drive up to their house: one at the wheel, one who gets out to open the gate...we see a hand shift gears, then hear a crash and shrieks... And then we finally see the film title and credits, with a "Yesterday" title on the screen...

As the real film begins: A new neighbor of the Hudson sisters comes home to see scenes from an old "Blanche Hudson movie" (Joan's actual "Sadie McKee," 1934) showing on TV. This now-middle-aged mother has fond memories of the film and of her early dating life, though the teen daughter (played woodenly by Bette Davis's real daugher B.D. Hyman, who thankfully appears only briefly) isn't as impressed. The daughter casually fills her mother in on the old gossip re the sisters and the car crash, etc., letting us viewers know that the former scandal still exists in the present (mirroring the co-existing past-and-present animosity between the sisters).

The decades-long simmering psychological tension between the Hudson sisters is triggered by these recent showings of Blanche's movies on TV, along with the accompanying fan mail and the neighbor's bringing over of flowers to Blanche. In jealous retaliation, Jane starts playing games with Blanche's meals: What ever happened to Blanche's bird in the cage that Jane cleaned? Does Blanche know they have rats in the cellar? It's all quite harrowing if you haven't seen this film before!

It's not just jealousy, though, that's contributing to Jane's increasingly erratic behavior. She's also just found out that Blanche plans to sell their house and find a "home" for Jane... That's a big part of what makes this film so interesting: the psychological intricacy of the characters. Jane is not purely the villain, and Blanche, not purely the poor victim.

To begin with, Blanche's constant buzzing when she needs something does become annoying, and you feel a bit for Jane and her annoyed reactions; and you feel a bit more for her once you know she knows she's about to be sent to a sanitarium of whatever sort (AND that Blanche has cut her off from her liquor supply!). That doesn't excuse Jane's increasingly violent behavior---and you clearly see that she's losing it---but you can also perhaps sympathize with her to some extent. For example, near the beginning of the film, a late-night, drunken Jane starts to melancholically sing her old child-vaudevillian hit "I've Written a Letter to Daddy," only to shriek in horror as she sees her aged face in a too-brightly-lit mirror. In a later scene, though, once she's found her accompanist, and thus some hope, she does her full "Daddy" number, this time triumphantly, complete with camera shots from below and footlights, as if we, the vaudeville audience, were watching and applauding, as in the olden days.

Joan's Blanche has fewer overtly emotional dramatic scenes to perform; she's usually called upon to react to horrible situations---which she does, she does! Aside from the later drama to come, several of her early quiet line readings especially stood out to me:

Her first appearance, while watching her old film on TV: A critical assessment of the director's shot selection, then a warmly self-satisfied, "It's still a pretty good picture."

Near the beginning, to maid Elvira, who comes in looking disgruntled: "Oh, you've seen Jane."

And later, also to Elvira (rather ominously): "We're sisters, Elvira. We know each other very well."

Joan's numerous wordless scenes are also gripping: The terror on her face when she views the dinner platters; her gobbling up of chocolates while she's starving; her simultaneous fear and hopefulness when she tries to throw a note down to her neighbors, or to contact her doctor before Jane gets home; her attempts to make it down the stairs despite not being able to walk.

The ongoing/increasing psychological tension between the sisters is skillfully (and thankfully!) partially leavened by interludes with Elvira (Maidie Norman) and Edwin Flagg (Victor Buono), the pianist who's responded to Baby Jane's want ad.

Elvira is a much-needed voice of reason amid the neuroses/psychoses of the film, initially pointing out Jane's increasingly bizarre behavior (hiding Blanche's fan mail, writing dirty words across her fan photos) and the only person to confront Blanche on several occasions. She's also a potential savior---the moment after Jane fires her and Elvira pretends to go home on her bus (yet we see her still standing behind the bus after it leaves) is a very excitingly hopeful one. (The entire last hour of this film is incredibly suspenseful.)

Edwin, on the other hand, is the furthest thing from "reason" (ah, but still a potential savior...). What a complicatedly weird, well-played character! (Also deserving of the Best Supporting Actor Oscar that year.) Edwin lives at home with, and is supported by, his mother Delia. (His relations with his mother can be summed up after she, with self-righteous horror, tells him of the gossip she's heard re the Hudson sisters' earlier car scandal and of Jane being found, post-accident, drunk in a motel room with an unknown man. Edwin's funnily sneering response as he storms out: "Well, wasn't that how I was conceived?") Edwin schlubs around in PJs during the day, desultorily looking through want ads. His scenes with Baby Jane are both darkly funny and sad (as is the movie itself). Once he and Jane meet up for the first time, he tries to impress with his upper-class British accent (though he's pure Cockney) and tales of his now-dead father (allegedly a Shakespearean actor in Britain but reduced to playing menials in Hollywood). Simultaneously, Jane listens not at all but rather attempts to regale him with tales of her own Daddy... The two talk past each other, neither listening to what the other is actually trying to share about themselves. (Shades of Jane's and Blanche's unsuccessful attempts at communication.)

Bette Davis is a real tour-de-force in this film: From bitchily irritated sister, to egoist clinging to past triumphs, to psychopathic tormenter, to little girl crying for her sister and daddy's help. Her performance is amazing---and should have won the Oscar that year. Joan's "Blanche" is the much smoother character here, the most overtly sympathetic, but Bette's emotionally raw "Jane" is, per the film's title, very much the star of the show. Such pathos and agony----for her past glories; for her current trapped and helpless state (though she's not the one in the wheelchair); for her meager, delusional attempts at a non-existent future.

This is not my favorite film of Joan's; however, as stated in the opening line, I believe the integrity with which she handled this role is important. People love to air their dirty laundry in the modern-day technology and Facebook era to such an extent that I wonder if strong personalities like those of these two stars would ever put their differences aside to work together on a project that could benefit both of them. I say it day in and day out: we could learn a lot from Joan Crawford, and indeed we did.

Even when one overlooks the legendary real-life animosity between its two leading dames, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? still retains its glorious hybrid of celebrity psychosis, batshit-hysteria and satire of Hollywood stardom. Bette Davis illuminates the screen with a no-holds-barred psychic portrait of child-star- turned-formidable-freak while Joan Crawford makes for a glamorous punching bag. To cut their feud short, it was Davis who won the battle by bagging the Oscar nomination for her performance -- but Crawford satisfactorily won the war by ensuring she would accept the award on behalf of the eventual winner.

In a tale of grotesque sibling rivalry, Bette Davis plays Baby Jane Hudson, a popular (and horridly tempered) vaudevillian child star whose fame fades as she grows older. Joan Crawford plays her sister, Blanche; overshadowed as a child, she enjoys success as a serious actress in her adult life. Though Blanche was able to source work for her sister (in spite of her lack of talent), Baby Jane winds up an embittered and often volatile alcoholic. This supposed jealousy is the catalyst for a brutal car accident that leaves Blanche bound to a wheelchair. In their old age, with their careers a thing of the past, both sisters are confined to a decaying mansion: Baby Jane as the nurse/prison warden, Blanche as the dependent invalid/prisoner.

When discovering that her sister intends to sell the house and potentially have her committed to psychiatric care, Jane's mood swings develop into cruelty towards Blanche. Between incessant verbal put downs, Jane cuts Blanche off from the world by withholding her fan mail, then sets on a campaign of psychological torture. At the height of her mental degeneration, Jane's delusions of grandeur include an attempt to revive her child act by enlisting the help of crooked pianist Edwin (a wonderful Victor Buono) while becoming progressively more violent towards her declining sister.

Robert Aldrich supposedly invented the rivalry to inject some much needed hype (and money) into a project that, at first glance, inspired little more than cursory cynicism. Davis and Crawford were in their 50s, their careers recycled more times than a spare tire, with the dust long settled on their marquee days. The “washed up” undertone becomes a frequent thing of mockery, delivered with bitter irony. It's Davis' Baby Jane who is sent up as the faded novelty act while Crawford's Blanche is empowered as the once revered actress; early in her career Davis established her acting chops with a series of acclaimed, and Oscar nominated, roles while Crawford tirelessly fought to overturn the impression she was little more than a glamorous mannequin of the movies.

To her credit, Davis commits to the role of Baby Jane without a modicum of vanity. Beyond the demented shrieks and venomous drawls, her physical transformation is beyond ghastly: she adorns chalk-white foundation and a ridiculous blonde ringlet wig, with a slash of scarlet lipstick on her patented wide mouth. Davis turns Jane into a crusty, sullen-faced clown whose dialogue fires off with the rapidity and bite of a machine gun. Later, as the madness unfurls, the clown's infant mind comes to the core in jolts of panic and genuine fragility. Davis knew she had a meatier role than her arch-nemesis and she attacked it with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Founded entirely on desperation, her performance is a success.

Against her usual style, Crawford's interestingly plays her hand with utmost subtlety. This sets up the festering guilt Blanche contains for eclipsing her sister's fame, not to mention the ironic finale. Her get-up is weird, too, with a hairstyle and wardrobe that can be best described as a kabuki warrior in retire. (Somewhere, a young Faye Dunaway was scribbling down character notes.) That the film exposes her face in the full throes of weathered age adds some sincerity to the scene where Blanche's eyes glisten while watching herself as a young actress on TV. (The clip provided is Sadie McKee; "It's still a good picture," Blanche poignantly mumbles.) Most of Crawford's best scenes are private, alone with the fear instilled by Jane's recurring torture.

Yet there's a plethora of other wonderful things about Baby Jane away from the two dynamic leads. It’s scored to chilling effect; the scene where Jane drunkenly loses herself in the memory of stardom and sings is tragic and fearsome both at once. Then, during an impromptu performance as Edwin plays the piano, the mansion suddenly converts into a theatre stage with accompanying footlights. Baby Jane is also peppered with neat and self-effacing exposition to convey the essential theme of narcissism: ironically, Bette Davis’s daughter plays a neighbour relishing clips of Crawford in the period of her cinematic peak; the sheer fact these stars belonged to a classic Hollywood that was now being sold to TV.

Aldrich has a blast directing his two leading women, in spite of the perpetual lore of on-set feuding. His true triumph, however, is how he creatively mines into his material, planting subversion at the heart of his aesthetic here. Hag horror at its utmost delicious, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane succeeds on gothic overtures but offers a more chilling portrayal of the aftermath for stars when their careers inevitably curdle.

I tend to agree with this notion, most in the "physical" perspective. (Regarding money, careers, etc.) I did enjoy the movie. It was, in my opinion, well acted and thought provoking. It has since become a cult-classic and a bit over-done in some instances. However, I find it most worth seeing.

Most notable to me, however, is how this film has become a "gay-cult classic." As we all know both Miss Davis and Joan to be notable gay-icons (and much much more, of course!) it is easy to see how this film became that. How many times have we seen parodies of Baby Jane done by gay men? So much so it's nauseating! But even so! For myself, this is an important aspect of the film as it is what led me to find Joan. Being gay opens doors to new things -- without Baby Jane, the door to Joan wouldn't have been opened to me (at least for now). Thus, this picture does own (however unpretentious) a fragment in my heart.

So how do you rate something like that? It transcends that. Not that the film is one of Crawford's or Davis's best performances. It is not. It is neither the most emotional. It really isn't much more noteworthy for much other than that it did star two immortal and powerful actresses. But for me, it personifies much more. I do think that others like me hold that in common with this film.

All in all, a good movie, not great -- but inspirational work done by Joan, who never left her craft. A woman who lived, breathed, and died for movie-stardom, her fans, and her love for so many things -- a passion unlike any other's.

It has been said that there was a feud between the two ladies while filming this. I don't think there was really a "feud" on set, though. I think the feud officially took place on the set of Hush... Hush, Sweet Charlotte, in which Joan was replaced by Olivia De Havilland (another of my favourite actresses), mostly because of Bette's behaviour. I think on the Baby Jane set it was really friendly rivalry.

This is one of the films that should be shown to a Crawford fan, as it portrays one of her greatest films and performances. I think without a doubt Bette Davis should have won the Academy Award for Best Actress, and Joan should have been nominated.

Jane: Blanche... You aren't ever gonna sell this house. And you aren't ever gonna leave it either.

When I asked my Mom about “Baby Jane” with Bette Davis and Joan Crawford, she let out this tragic, tired sigh and said, “Oh, that was so sad."

For my mother, Joan and Bette were still remembered for their past glories and glamour. My mother was of the opinion that it was a come-down. I think Miss Crawford thought so, too. Because where did she go from there?

My partner also despises the movie for some of the same reasons as my mom. It is a cult classic however, and I am sure that is how I found it -- you could not miss this movie in San Francisco! Not to mention the parodies of the movie played out on the street or in the theatres.

I watched and I loved it, then I watched it again about thirty or forty more times, and I do not think I like it anymore. The pairing of Joan and Bette remains the reason for seeing this movie. It ranks and it reeks at the same time. It suddenly seems like an implausible movie and it does go on too long. I can actually watch The Spiral Staircase or The Cat and the Canary with more fright and interest than I do "Baby Jane." But if you’re a film fan you have to know this movie.

Robert Aldrich (Autumn Leaves ) directed and hustled this movie deal like a ringmaster. Oh, if the script were a little better, tightened up a bit, Mr. Aldrich could have come close to real suspense and cut some of the 132 minutes of film.

Victor Buono is excellent in his screen debut, and the scenes with "my gal" Marjorie Bennett and Buono are full of comedic turns and well worth the pairing (they could have had a series). Bennett also appeared as the waitress in Autumn Leaves. Aldrich and Joan liked her, too! She was fresh air compared to the "goings on."

Same for Maidie Norman. She appeared with Joan in Torch Song as Joan’s secretary. Here she plays her scenes as professionally as Hattie McDaniel would and with as much force and meaning. She is really good and gets my attention. (As a kid I was sorry she died.) It was still tough being a black actress then, but she hung on!

Bette Davis’s big fat mean boring “Christina”- like daughter is AWFUL, period. Ann Barton has a steady history and plays with some interest -- tough luck she had to play against a piece of wood like Little Davis. Nepotism is no good this time.

I can watch Miss Davis and be fascinated. There are moments you feel sad for this woman, and her acting and characterization are very good. Madness is creeping in fast. She is a killer. For me, it still has to be a dark night -- lots of rain and cold -- and then I am ready for some “Baby Jane."

The rest is history and folklore, but the movie did one thing: It gave Miss Crawford about a million dollars. (Today, I was saying to my mate that I need a "Baby Jane” -- of course meaning I need a hit, a bang, some good big cash! I need a “Baby Jane” to come to the rescue!) I am happy it gave Miss Crawford that success and I will leave it at that.

On a personal note: I was once able to ask an old-time publicist and Warner Brothers’ employee (Frank Casey) about the “feud” with Joan and Bette. We were in the lobby of the Park Hyatt hotel in Chicago. I was a bellboy, and Mr. Casey had just dropped off Tom Cruise, promoting Risky Business (he is short). Anyway, Mr. Casey answered very candidly and said gruffly: “I would pick Crawford up at the airport and take her to the hotel, and then I would pick up Davis at the airport and she would just say, “Ohh, you were with her!” It was all very simple, sarcasm at its best! Like a running joke. (Mr. Casey did have a beautiful photograph of he and Miss Crawford from about 1955 on his entry hall table, signed, of course!)

I am 50 years of age ... saw this movie when I was about 7 years old and was terrified by it. When I was around 30, I invited a friend over to watch it (she never saw it) ... I rented it from Blockbuster ..... from the very beginning with the 'accident' scene and the music playing ... I had to stop the movie and apologize to my friend that I couldn't continue watching the movie because I was already scared.

I never miss the opportunity to see this film (and I’ve seen it several times). The acting, especially by the two principals, comes as close, to me, as being some of the finest ever on film. Miss Davis’ deranged character performance proves why she was designated the 2^nd best actress of all time. Miss Crawford plays her part just as well. I simply can’t imagine any else coming remotely close to what these two achieved with these roles. And although the film was made in 1962, a lot of people that I know still discuss this picture, not just for Davis’ or Crawford's performance, but for the believability these two titans of the silver screen conveyed with their outstanding performances. We have but very few actors these days that can match--on a consistent, career basis--the caliber of excellence you’ll find in these two great performers. If you haven’t seen “Baby Jane” yet, your “great movie viewing” is incomplete!

Personally, I thought this film was wonderfully made. Of course everybody's heard about the rivalry between Joan and Bette and it's exciting to see them work together because you can just kinda sense how much they hate each other.