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The Appropriate Tune: "Don't Worry Baby", by The Beach Boys
The film industry is one that loves to play both sides against the middle. For every movie that plays up how fabulous Hollywood is and how show business is glamorous, there’s a movie that says that it is a lie, and that Hollywood is in fact bad and how show business is very much not glamorous. For every Singing In the Rain, there’s a Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, or Showgirls and so on and on. The natural assumption would then be to go the middle route and assume that it’s just average, capable of experiences both good and bad, but I think that’s the sucker’s bet. Given the recent outings of several executives and talent as rapists and molesters, and given the nature of the country it inhabits, I think it’s more than fair to assume that the film industry really is an veritable charnel house for hopes and dreams and the fact that anything half-way decent ever gets made at all is something of a small miracle. The same can be said of all industries really, but seems more acute in the case of the arts, a field supposedly built on the ideas of self-expression and creativity. Aside from internet film blogging that is, which prides itself on featuring neither of those things.
You might notice that those anti-show biz film examples I gave prominently star and feature women, and I don’t think that’s a coincidence. Aside from the aforementioned rapists and molesters, female actors also have to deal with the fact that their careers generally have a much shorter expiration date than their male counterpart. Doors that were wide open at 18 and 19 are increasingly closed when you’re pushing 40, which isn’t an easy pill to swallow if you have gotten a taste of the spotlight in the past. That stories of substance abuse, excessive cosmetic surgery, and eating disorders are so common should come as no surprise, because that is the type of environment that is supported, if not outright endorsed by the Hollywood establishment. Which sounds shitty, but only because it is in fact really shitty and unlikely to change without sweeping socioeconomic changes. Charnel house of hopes and dreams, remember?
Which brings us to today’s film, 1962’s Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?, adapted from the novel by Henry Farrell, with a screenplay by Lukas Heller and directed by Robert Aldrich, who Thunderblog buffs might recall from Kiss Me Deadly. In the year 1917 there was no bigger name in entertainment than that of Baby Jane Hudson, the song & dance moppet supreme and the apple of her father’s eye, much to the chagrin of her sister Blanche. By 1935 the Baby Jane star had collapsed in favor of Blanche Hudson, the up and coming Hollywood starlet, at least until a violent incident with a car ended both their careers. These days however you don’t see much of the Hudson sisters; Jane (Bette Davis) has become a bitter, emotionally unstable alcoholic and the now-paraplegic Blanche (Joan Crawford) has become a shut-in (although not necessarily by choice). But that’s not Baby Jane’s bag, jack! She’s a star! She’s meant to be on a stage, basking in the adulation of her fans, not wasting away in some dusty old house! Which is exactly what she’s going to do, just as soon as she gets rid of some dead weight.
Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? is one of the earlier entries I’ve seen so far of a subgenre I’ve dubbed invalid thrillers, for lack of a better term. Basically films wherein the protagonist is incapacitated at the start of the story and subsequently tasked with surviving a dangerous situation, thus giving otherwise mundane tasks an increased sense of tension than they would otherwise have. Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window is perhaps the most famous example of what I’m talking about here, although much of that film is about unraveling the mystery and attempting to entrap the criminal. Baby Jane on the other hands settles firmly on the more ‘psychological’ side of things, emotional manipulations, acts of torture, and so on. If you’ve ever seen Misery, or the hundreds of Misery parodies and pastiches that followed, you’ve got some idea of what you’re in for with this film here.
As was the case with Misery, Baby Jane is a film that is carried on the backs of its cast. Victor Buono makes his proper introduction in this film, who you might recall as King Tut from the Adam West Batman series or the face you picture in your mind’s eye when you imagine a fat Jason Siegel, but the ones you came to see are Crawford and Davis. Both veterans of the silver screen by the year 1962, winners and nominees of multiple Academy Awards, and both actors who were no doubt feeling Hollywood’s dagger pressing against their back at this stage in their career, putting in the work that proved that they hadn’t lost a step. Particularly in the case of Bette Davis; Crawford does great work as Blanche, the frazzled, frail victim, but there’s so much meat on that Baby Jane bone that Davis chews to bits. Her portrayal of Baby Jane Hudson is a Batman rogue before that really meant something, and considering the Batman: The Animated Series would eventually introduce a villain named ‘Baby Doll’, I don’t think I’m the only one who thought so. On the one hand she’s a spiteful, vindictive harridan, capable of acts of great malice with no sense of remorse. Yet flip the coin and she’s a child, or rather an adult desperately trying to recapture her childhood, the only time in her life when she was happy, the only time she felt loved and the world seemed to make sense. She’s loathsome but at the same so pathetic that you can’t help but pity her. A tragic villain played to perfection, it’s no wonder that she would eventually get a Best Actress nomination for the role. That she didn’t win and that it would prove to be her last ever Best Actress nomination is a shame, even though she was one of the most prolific players in the best acting nomination game at that point, because the more I stew on it the more fascinated I become with it. A bit of a slow burn but then really kicks your ass into gear.
As wild as Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? can get though, there’s something...personable about it that Misery lacks. Now I’ve only caught some of that film so I can’t make any in depth comparisons, but Misery has always had a bit of a pretentious air about it. A novelist writing a novel about how it’s so hard being a rich and successful novelist because some people like your work TOO much and get obsessive about it, and then they made it a movie. Not exactly relatable. The personal lives of Golden Age Hollywood actresses might seem at first to be the same here, but the Hollywood aspect isn’t really the focus of Baby Jane, it’s just a good set piece. Really the film is about these sisters who were set against each other from the very beginning, and how that resentment and bitterness rippled outwards and drastically altered the entire course of their lives, and that to this day they’ve trapped themselves in this quagmire of toxicity and familial obligation. Because if they didn’t have each other, they’d have no one. I think the film tends to present things a bit more one-sided than how I’ve described it, but there are definitely points throughout the film where it shows that neither woman is without sin. Which I like, it adds a layer of depth to the story beyond whatever morbid fascination there is in watching the early 60s equivalent of torture porn. From a simple thriller to a Shakespearean tragedy.
Just about the only thing I didn’t care for all that much is the score, composed by DeVol. Typical orchestral fare for the time, and I do love “I’ve Written A Letter to Daddy” as a leitmotif, but occasionally it feels like it has two gears for every case: Twilight Zone drama and My Mother The Car cheeze. Scenes that don’t seem all that dramatic are suddenly very dramatic, and the lighthearted moments feel like Lucille Ball is about to step in from off-screen, that sort of thing. It tap dances along the line between drama and melodrama, and not only on the side that I think it intended.
Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? is an easy recommendation from me. Loved the story, loved the acting, and it feels like a novelty to have a movie starring older women, about older women, that’s something besides Steel Magnolias or what have you. If you liked Kiss Me Deadly, if you liked Psycho and other Hitchcock works, then I think you’ll get a kick out of this movie. And while you’re leaving to go watch this fine film, don’t forget to stop at the lobby and pick up your very own life-sized King Thunderbird doll, only 3.95 each! Sure to bring a smile to your face and a financial burden on your family.
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