Almost There: Joan Crawford in "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?"
Tuesday, October 27, 2020 at 7:50PM 
It's October, a season for spookiness and horror movies, for nightmares and ghouls. It seems only appropriate that the Almost There series takes a look at a performance in the horror genre, though it's hard to find examples that fit the criteria. AMPAS is famously allergic to most horror and few actors have been recognized or come close for that genre.
Inspired by the month and the Criterion Channel's new Joan Crawford collection, I decided to take a look at one of the actress' most contentious and controversial achievements. One speaks of that terrifying occasion when Joan and Bette met onscreen, the clashing of two titans and two acting styles, the epitome of Grande Dame Guignol. That's right, it's time to explore What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?...
The behind-the-camera shenanigans involved in the making, promotion, and awards race of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? have been told and retold many times before. Most recently, Ryan Murphy gave us Feud, where rumor is taken as truth and scandalous drama reaches the level of myth. To retread on beaten paths seems futile, especially when our topic of interest isn't gossip, but performance.
Joan Crawford may have cost Bette Davis a third Oscar win and the intersection of their professional and personal relationship may have been nothing short of catastrophic. However, to let such sensational business overshadow Crawford's performance feels unfair. At a first glance, Crawford's success in the movie almost seems like a success of casting more than an acting triumph, but first impressions are often wrong.
As Blanche and Jane Hudson, Crawford and Davis are a match made in hell of sisterly spite. In their youth, Jane dazzled audiences as a kid star of vaudeville but, as the years went on, it was Blanche who rose to the top, turning into a Hollywood sensation. Embittered, half-crazed by jealousy, drunk and hateful, Jane rammed her car into Blanche one night, paralyzing the other woman from the waist down and condemning her to a wheelchair. At least, that's what the stories say.
When we finally meet the old sisters after a long prologue, they're the sole inhabitants of a dilapidated mansion in suburban Los Angeles. Blanche has aged into a serene star of yore, all faded glamour, and magnanimous meekness. She's confined to a wheelchair and rarely leaves her upstairs bedroom, depending on Jane and their maid, Elvira, to take care of her. As for the other Hudson sister, she's taken on the role of reluctant caregiver with as much resentment as expected.
Throughout the picture, we see them spiral into absolute destruction, as Jane loses her sanity and Blanche is made into a prisoner of her mad sister, starved, bound, and beaten without mercy. The behavior of the sisters and their odd dynamic is further highlighted by the metatextual charge its actresses bring to the scene. Their animosity was well-publicized, and their differences as performers were no less obvious.
To put it in blunt, a bit too simple, terms, Crawford was a movie star who made the labor of acting seem impossibly beautiful, vaguely arch, and effortless. Davis, in contrast, was a showier sort of screen presence, a character actress in leading roles more than a classic star. One can never miss her capital-A Acting, each interpretative choice showcased to great effect and often verging on fearless grotesquerie.
Davis' Baby Jane Hudson is a miracle of horror movie acting, justly nominated for the Best Actress Oscar, but we shouldn't underestimate Crawford's efforts. The picture wouldn't work without the huge contrast between two actresses and their approach to the horror genre. Davis' bombast needs a counterbalance and if Crawford had gone full-on hag like her costar, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? wouldn't have worked half as well as it does.
Crawford's first line – "Still a pretty good picture." – said while Blanche admires one of her old movies on TV, immediately complicates our initial conceptions of the character. She shines with pride and is happier at that moment than in the rest of the entire movie. Crawford undermines the possible readings of her character as a martyr. There's always something more under the surface of Blanche's beatific suffering. Maybe it's the sharp resilience, a hint of diva pride, or the abrasive, underplayed, contempt she has for her sister.
Comparing the actress to her young self on television is also a stark exercise, not just because of her aging but also because of her screen persona. Crawford’s glamour has faded, the glittery façade now full of cracks, reflecting the changes in the industry. The mannered gesture creaks with each change of pose and Blanche is brittle. That said, she's also strong, a monument of lost stardom that's much more resilient than she looks. Blanche may be in a wheelchair, but her mind is sturdy unlike that of her sister. Furthermore, Crawford refuses to portray Blanche as frail in these early moments.
Her posture is straight, shoulders held back even though she's forced to live sitting down. There's an imperiousness to her bearing too, and her maneuvering of the wheelchair is always done with confident athleticism. The actress doesn't spothlight the handicaps of her character, leaving such haggard physicality for the later stages of the drama, when Blanche's really in distress and not merely living her day-to-day existence as any person who's grown used to their disability.
Her arc is that of a woman in control who's quickly losing that very same dominion over her life. Despite her frail state, Blanche's needs rule the existence of her and her sister. There's even a sense of chilly authority about her, a bit of benevolent noblesse oblige to the way she carries herself and talks about Jane. Because of that, when it all comes crashing down, it feels all the more sordid and tragic. A star like Blanche was, like Crawford was, isn't meant to have their light smeared in dirt, blood, and hate.
Blanche is keenly aware of what Jane's capable of, but she thinks she can handle it. You notice it in the way she listens to her sister's cries echoing through the empty house, how she softens her voice when talking to the other woman as if she were a rabid animal who might attack at any sign of danger. Thinking she could eternally control Jane was Blanche's biggest mistake, her folly, the signing of her death warrant. Blanche never really knew to what extremes her sister would go even if she knew there was twisted ill intent fermenting in Jane's soul.
It's painful to watch someone as lucid as Blanche lose everything in the manner she does, her autonomy slipping through the fingers like licks of smoke. Crawford plays Blanche's degradation as tortuous, visceral instead of beatific. Just look at the actress' portrayal of Blanche's brutal hunger. See how she devours old bonbons, how her face contorts in ravenous relief. One can almost feel the hunger pangs and the twisting of her empty stomach around the sugary treat. She says it all with no dialogue.
Crawford had a lot of Silent film experience, and her expressive face showed the plasticity of silent acting well into her twilight years. She dominates a scene with little more than the nervousness of twitchy looks and a quivering lip. It's humanity painted with shades of artifice, a lie that speaks the truth. That's not to say her line delivery is bad. The airiness of her voice is of particular value, varnishing any interaction between the sisters with insincerity and discomfort.
Before I'm through singing the praises of Crawford's Blanche, one must pay respect to some moments of stand-out brilliance. Her hesitation over a food tray is pure theatre of human agony. Later, during the second incident with a monstrous meal, Crawford brings the performance to a boiling point of despair. The score does everything in its power to delineate the emotion of the moment, but it's Crawford's hysteria that sells it.
One also finds much to admire in the raw physicality of the stairs scene, when Blanche goes down the steps with much effort. Again, she's acting with her body and face, illustrating the woman's plight without the benefit of all the dialogue and grotesque mugging that Davis indulges in to great effect. Suitably, by the end, Crawford leaves us with a haunting pose, carrying meaning with no words. Her last closeup is the stuff of horror movie iconography, jagged and bug-eyed, a last tableau for Blanche's punishment.
As stated before, there's little need to dwell on the Oscar race since it's as famous as this movie's stars. The nominees that year were Bette Davis for this same picture, Anne Bancroft for The Miracle Worker, Katharine Hepburn for Long Day's Journey Into Night, Geraldine Page for Sweet Bird of Youth, and Lee Remick for Days of Wine and Roses. AMPAs chose Bancroft, and Crawford accepted her Oscar live on TV. I'd have voted for Hepburn, but this is one of the all-time great lineups. That being said, Crawford's presence could have made it even better and less contentious.
Regardless of her offscreen actions and all the related drama, do you think Joan Crawford deserved a Best Actress nomination in 1962?
Reader Comments (21)
The 1962 best actress lineup is easily my favourite ever nominated list. Crawford for me would be unable to replace any of the nominated performances. It’s seriously an underrated list that history has boiled down to Bette not winning.
Lee Remick, Days of Wine and Roses
Bette Davis, Baby Jane
Anne Bancroft, Miracle Worker
Katharine Hepburn, Long Day’s Journey
Geraldine Page, Sweet Bird of Youth
How you would think Joan or any other competing actress is better than any of those women is beyond me.
Eoin-This is also one of my favorite line-ups but I think I would have put Crawford over Remick, who I do like but I think stands out as the closest thing to "weak link" in comparison to the other four. Again, I like her in the movie but I don't think it's a total slam-dunk (it'd be 3.5/5 for me if I were to rate it).
I like Crawford a lot in this movie, although whether she would have cracked a top 5 line-up is different. I think it's fairly memorable, earnest, and detailed. But honestly Davis is more or less handed most of their scenes together and she's rising to the occasion so totally that Crawford's lack of a nomination seems kind of understandable.
Hepburn is the winner for me no question, which is saying something. But I think Bancroft and Davis are out of this world, Page is brilliant, and Remick quite good. And the movies are all at least memorable.
A great lineup, the only way to put Crawford in, it's if you consider Page as a supporting player.
Beautiful examination of Crawford's exceptional performance in "Baby Jane". I'd definitely have nominated her. Along with Davis, of course. But it's true 1962 offered one of the all-time greatest actress lineups. Bancroft would have been my winner but I think she, Hepburn and Remick all did career best work in their respective films. Which leaves Geraldine Page, an actress I love. I'd certainly have nominated her in '63 and '64 (for "Toys in the Attic" and "Dear Heart"). With its Tennessee Williams pedigree, "Sweet Bird of Youth" was a more prestigious project. And Page was terrific in it. But not (and of course this is subjective) quite as terrific as Bancroft, Hepburn, Remick, Davis and Crawford were that year.
Terrific look at a performance that is often minimized because of Bette Davis's iconic and oxygen consuming work. Bette's brilliant but Joan is also, just in more subdued ways.
Completely agree about her wordless moments being some of her best, and though Bette always threw shade at her for her early work "She started in silents you know!!" it gave her a skill set that Bette didn't always have at the ready. It helped that she was mentored by some of the best of the silent performers-Joan always gave credit to Lon Chaney for awakening in her the actual value and seriousness of acting when they made "The Unknown" together and that she learned an enormous amount by watching him work. Plus she made a few films with John Gilbert who likewise took her under his wing. All Bette's bluster wouldn't pay off nearly as much as it did if not for Joan's indication of its impact in wordless reactions.
Yet for all that I wouldn't want to replace anyone in that lineup to make room for her. If forced I'd take out Gerry Page but grudgingly and frankly if I had to do that it would be for Patty Duke to compete where she belonged not supporting. But if Joan had made it in Bette still wouldn't have won because either they would have cancelled each other out or Joan would have campaigned so hard she would have trashed Bette's chances in that way.
I did not enjoy The Days of Wine and Roses in the least but the two lead performances by Jack Lemmon and Lee Remick are flawless. Anne Bancroft is magnificent in The Miracle Worker so I can't begrudge her the win but my choice would also be Hepburn in the only other nominated performance that she should have won for besides The Lion in Winter.
"the clashing of two titans and two acting styles." I believe their styles were quite similar, that's one of the reasons they were cast. Both attractive, tough broads, steely really, at Warners simultaneously for a period, lots of melodramas, and much later, TV and terror dramas. Yes, Joan Crawford should have been nominated.
The lineup should have included Anne Bancroft, Patty Duke, Katharine Hepburn, Lee Remick and either Janet Margolin (David and Lisa) or Rosalind Russell (Gypsy).
This well written piece only serves to remind me of a time in Hollywood when there was a wealth of roles for actresses. How many of these films would be made in today's market? Of course, even then women were marginalized. The Miracle Worker is the only film in Oscar history to win two Academy Awards for acting and not receive a Best Picture nomination.
Yep, this is the definitive and most "dramatic" ALMOST THERE U could ever imagine and not just because it has excited not just Oscar pundits through the years (FEUD). I frankly can't say if Joan is better than the actual nominees but clearly they love her (?) film and she's great in BABY JANE...unfortunately there was space for just one of the two stars
What a fantastic post,getting exactly why Joan is right,underplaying beautifully,even in a wheelchair she remains a Star,It was a shame she didn't get a nomination but 62 was tough,I'd remove Page or Remick for Crawford.
As much as I love Joan in this -- i can't ditch any of the nominees from that stellar lineup.
I've always thought that Remick was in Crawford's rightful spot in the Oscars lineup that year. Also, if this film were made today, Crawford would be campaigned in supporting actress. A showboat like Davis would have taken all the plaudits and every lead award in sight.
James: It's not the only film to achieve that - Hud did it the very next year. (It remains stunning to me that Hud wasn't nominated.)
^^And she would rather be snubbed altogether rather than nominated in supporting for a film she made happen. Both are leads anyway.
I think about this performance quite often. Sure Davis is amazing with her go-for-broke approach and underplaying nicely when she needs to. Yet it's Blanche that is more complicated. She gets automatic sympathy points for wheelchair and opening scene where she watches herself on screen. But pretty quickly it turns out that there's more to it even if people don't really realize it - her casual "I think she's better lately" about Jane to Elvira shows that she's rather content the way things are or oblivious to the danger. She's the architect of her own misery.
When Jane recreates her "I've Written a Letter to Daddy" for the first time, Blanche hears her (the first picture here) and looks... furious? Angry? Embarrased? Surely something negative which leads to her pressing the buzzer and making Jane even angier right after her breakdown. Once the finale reveals the truth about the accident, we shouldn't be really surprised because the truth was there all the time but maybe we didn't see it because it was easier to see Blanche as a pure victim and Jane as an attacker when in reality it was the other way around at first. Blanche clinges to the memory of that accident like it's the only thing that can make Jane soft that days and in retrospect that makes her a horrible person. "You weren't ugly then. I made you that way. I even did that" - were her last words and it's true.
Joan Crawford is stellar in this role. Her silent expression when the note was gone, her terror when she realizes Jane is home while she's talking to Dr. Shelby after going downstairs, finally her big confession at the beach - all amazing moments. I wonder whether it was intentional that Blanche was having trouble speaking at the beach at first and then her voice turned into more coherent and determined once she recalled the accident. For all the notes about Crawford's desire to look perfect throughtout the film, she let her guard down in terms of looks and I think served her character well. Her final shot, haunting one, is done without any vanity on her part.
The sad thing is her big moment got undercut and were given to Davis. Once Blanche discovers the rat, we get to see Jane's reaction and not Blanche horror. Her beach confession has Jane reacting to her words most of the time and we barely see it. No wonder she felt undervalued. As much as I believe that Davis peaked higher with classics like "All About Eve" and "The Dark Victory", Joan was more consistent and natural in her approach. Perhaps people back then wouldn't agree but right now it's obvious that she steals "Grand Hotel" with her natural acting style while Greta Garbo's magnetism is basically almost gone now. It's a shame she wasn't nominated for "...Baby Jane?" but it's a truth that 1962 will always be among top line-ups in the history of Best Actress. Bad luck.
Love this post and love Crawford! BTW, highly recommend watching Izzy's recent epic 2-part video on 1962's lineup, starting with the brilliance of Bancroft in The Miracle Worker for part 1, and then all about Crawford & Davis in part 2, incl why so much of Ryan Murphy's Feud was pure bullshit. Izzy's channel is better known as Be Kind Rewind.
Eoin Daly -- It's obviously subjective, but I prefer Crawford's horror picture performance to Remick's heartfelt portrayal of alcoholism. Both are great though. I rank 1962 among the top 4 Best Actress lineups, along with '50, '74, and '87. Of course, I should mention that, in my ideal lineup, it's not Crawford that features in this lineup over Remick but Harriett Andersson in THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY.
Peter -- Glad to find another Hepburn voter here. I think she's beyond perfection in LONG DAY'S JOURNEY INTO NIGHT.
Cafg -- I actually never thought about that, even though Page's role is fairly small. I need to re-watch SWEET BRID OF YOUTH one of these days.
Ken -- I'm happy you enjoyed this write-up.
joel6 -- Thanks for the kind words.
Rick -- That's certainly food for thought. Even if their styles were similar, I believe they approached the labor of acting quite differently. Just look at their choice of projects. That being said, I must confess I'm a bit of a Crawford fanboy, so I may be overvaluing her a little bit.
Working stiff -- I've never watched DAVID AND LISA, but it's now on my watchlist. Thanks for the recommendation.
Wes -- You're probably right, but that would be a flagrant case of category fraud.
Edward L. -- HUD's better than all the Best Picture nominees of its year. Like you, I can't fathom why it was snubbed.
TheDrMistery -- Thanks for your detailed analysis.
Rob -- Everyone should watch BE KIND REWIND. All of her videos are great. Also, thanks for reminding me that I have to watch part two of the '62 two-parter. I watched the video about Bancroft but, for some reason, haven't seen the one about Bette and Joan yet.
Thank you all for the wonderful feedback. It's very much appreciated.
Crawford's performance to me is just a very good performance based on reacting. Nothing more or less than that.
There's a book that just came out: "Cinema '62: The Greatest Year at the Movies." Bette and Joan are on the front cover. Awesome.
I rate the nominees Hepburn, then Bancroft, Davis, Remick and Page. I'm not fond of Page's tics and mannerisms except in small doses, when she can be very effective. Crawford would be my #4. Opening up the nominations to international films, I would like Jeanne Moreau (Jules and Jim), Harriet Andersson (Through a Glass Darkly) and Rita Tushingham (A Taste of Honey) who are all splendid.
Thanks, Claudio. Sorry for spelling mistakes.
Be Kind Rewind is a superb channel! Author does a great job, illuminating how Best Actress races were won and lost. She spoiled us with 2 movies for 1962. I think that her conclusion that Joan Crawford's Oscar stunt was more to remain visible for future roles and less about upstaging Davis is an inspired one.
I actually prefer Crawford's more subdued n controlled turn than Davis scenery chewing, larger than life performance. But i can see why Davis performance appealed more to the academy voters. Its visually a v brave performance n Bette has alws been held up by her peers as a consumate actress, while Joan is alws regarded as more of a star.
Baby Jane works so well thx to BOTH o them!! I feel tt deep in many voters minds, they were actually nominating both of them as a duo, when they fill up Davis name in the ballot.