Mommie Dearest

"Because I am NOT one of your FANS!"

Simply said, this is superb trash. Enjoyable b.s. Faye Dunaway lobbied hard for the role of Joan Crawford (Christina Crawford wanted Anne Bancroft) and she admirably sinks into the part with relish. I loved the opening montage of "Joan" preparing for her day early in the morning: scrubbing her hands and nails, numbing her face in ice cubes, leafing through a script in her car, getting made-up, and then whirling around in her chair and letting loose with a breathy, "Let's go!"... Sadly, Frank Perry's direction is awkward and unsure, cutting off some sequences before they're allowed to build and letting other scenes ramble on. The movie doesn't do justice to the riveting book by Joan's adopted daughter Christina, committing to film the book's highlights, the talked-about bits where Crawford freaked out, but skimping on the details. We learn absolutely nothing about Christina's many tormented years in an L.A. Catholic Boarding School (we see her check in and we see her check out). Joan's marriage to Pepsi czar Alfred Steele and her three other adopted kids are also given the short shrift. What we do get with "Mommie Dearest" is pure, unadulterated Faye. She acts up a storm and revels in these primal opportunities. It's one of the highlights of her spotty career. **1/2 from ****

Indisputable classic of the highest order, 'Mommie Dearest' just SCREAMS cult hit every chance it gets, and just about ruined Faye Dunaway's reputation in the process. Mind you, there's nothing WRONG with Dunaway's performance, as a matter of fact, it's really good, but what's so good about it is how she plays every scene with fearless abandon, whether it's the wirehanger scene, the departure from MGM or chokeslamming Christina through a glass table, Dunaway gives 100% percent! And you should too! The first half is MUCH more frenetic then the 2nd half (aka young Christina vs Old) and the first part has all the best bits, but not to say the 2nd part is good too, it really starts to mellow out and (gasp) you start to feel SOME compassion to the old broad. Diana Scarwid is good too, although her playing what looks to be a 13 year old girl looks a bit too much.

This wasn't my first time at this rodeo (I'd seen this before) and I enjoyed it as much as I had the first time!

Having read most of the reviews I really expected some terribly acted, campy cult flick. What I got is one of the saddest movies I've ever seen. I've never been a fan of Joan Crawford. Just about the only movie of hers I've ever liked was Mildred Pierce. I've always gotten a bad vibe from her. She seemed hard and cold. This movie just justified my feeling.

I remember the publicity when the book and movie came out. I didn't read the book and didn't watch the movie until today. It is gut wrenching. The story is so well known I don't have to go over it. The is as much Joan's story as it is Christina's and each one is flawed. But Joan was an adult her mental and physical cruelty to Christina is inexcusable. Fay Dunaway did a really wonderful job. Why this ruined her career is beyond me. Christina is more complex as a character and both actresses did a fine job. Neither character is portrayed as blameless and that is why the story is so complex. They are both so very flawed.

The end is just another kick in the gut, the final cruelty in a lifetime of cruelties, and the look in Christina's eyes as the camera fades out is chilling. I can't for the life of me understand why anyone would laugh at anything in this movie or call it campy. I have no idea why Ms. Dunaway refuses to talk about it, or why it ruined her career. She did a helluva job.

This is hard to watch but is worth the time.

Alright, this might not be too obscure of a movie but when it came out it wasn't well received and pretty much ignored causing it to have a huge cult following. The acting by Dunaway as Joan Crawford is so exaggerated that it seems unbelievable that it's a biographical tale. More than Crawford's story as an actress, this movie deals with the painful, abusive, and traumatic upbringing of her daughter Christina (she wrote the book that prompted the making of this movie). Some say Christina made a lot of it up to destroy her mother's reputation but others say it might be quite accurate. Either way, Dunaway's performance as the Screen Queen is uncanny. She embodies every quality of Crawford and watching the movie you forget that it's not really Joan but Faye in the role. Sure, this movie won Razzie Awards and the producers even tried to capitalize with its failure by billing it "The worst mother of them all." Dunaway even goes as far as telling interviewers beforehand that she will not talk about this movie. One can understand her seeing that she was campaigning for an Oscar nod and instead won the Razzie for worst actress but none of that matters because this movie is now seen as a great tragedy and you'll definitely get lost in the story wondering if everything is true. Oh, and the scenes with Faye Dunaway and Mara Hobel, who plays young Christina Crawford, are amazing. It's no wonder she won the Young Artist Award. Seriously, watch it. The "No more wire hangers" scene alone is enough to watch this great film.

There is no doubt that Christina Crawford's scathing 1978 memoirs did much initial harm to her late mother's reputation. The subsequent 1981 film has eclipsed even the bestselling book to become the standard by which the real-life Joan is judged. However, I'm inclined to believe that those who dismiss Joan today as a psychotic harpy and nothing more never even saw the film version of "Mommie Dearest," and only heard secondhand reports of the most infamous scene ("No...wire...hangers!").

Most tellingly, Christina Crawford reportedly hated the film version of her book, and wailed upon seeing it, "They turned it into a Joan Crawford movie!" She's right. With the exception of the two most graphic scenes ("No wire hangers" and the choking scene), Joan's "abuse" of Christina is not all that much different from what passed as "discipline" in those days--just ask your parents or grandparents--and despite Faye Dunaway's full-throttle acting, Joan always somehow comes off in a strangely sympathetic light.

What we see is an insecure woman fighting for survival in an age-obsessed, male-dominated industry. Such scenes as Joan's heartless dismissal from MGM invite sympathy; while her snarling, veritable takeover of Pepsi Co. elicts cheers for her ballsiness and strength. Christina, on the other hand, is invariably depicted as either gratingly whiny or cardboard stiff. It's difficult to empathize with such an annoying character.

"Mommie Dearest"'s grandest artistic achievement is through the impeccable art direction, which truly makes the audience believe they are watching a film unfold in the 1940's and 1950's. Its lasting legacy, however, is Faye Dunaway's career-ending performance, which, depending on your point of view, is either jaw-droppingly awful or unbelievably brilliant.

Dunaway's acting "choices" are nothing if not idiosyncratic: clutching her bosom frantically as she cries, "You...deliberately...embarass me in front of a REPORTER!"; copying the real-life Crawford's facial expressions from the horror flick "Strait-Jacket" in the axe-wielding scene; and, most famously, her odd, cross-eyed pose that she strikes not once, or twice, but three times: holding baby Christina on the staircase, rubbing moisturizer on her elbows after hiding Christina's dolls, and following her wire hanger/cleansing powder attack.

It is Dunaway's nostril-flaring, hair-pulling, bosom-clutching style that really sends this film into the camp stratosphere. On paper, such scenes as Joan swatting Christina on the butt for defying her orders, or Joan insisting that Christina finish her rare steak, would seem bland. In Dunaway's hands, they become something else altogether!

Actually, Christina Crawford should thank Faye Dunaway; if not for her crazed, unforgettable portrayal, "Mommie Dearest" would have been just another trashy Hollywood memoir that eventually would've been forgotten (does anyone really care about B.D. Hyman's book about Bette Davis anymore?). And a film version without Dunaway would've been rightfully panned, forgotten, and relegated to cut-out bins at your local video emporium. Instead, Faye Dunaway has ensured its place in film immortality. It still stands alone among camp classics, but perhaps some re-evaluation of it (and of Joan Crawford herself) is due.