How Joan Crawford Became ‘Mildred Pierce’

Joan Crawford in her Oscar-winning role as "Mildred Pierce."

Mildred Pierce is still Joan Crawford's signature film. Like all long-time stars, Crawford is revered for several key roles, but this is the one most associated with Joan, personally and professionally. Mildred Pierce was Joan Crawford's great comeback, though Joan thought of it as a career Oscar. That didn't hurt Crawford’s chances either, with a then-20 year stint in show biz. 

Crawford's back story was one of the most famous in Hollywood, much like the later Marilyn Monroe. Everyone knew that Joan had a tough upbringing, pulled herself up by her trademark ankle straps, and by the dint of hard work and self-belief, became a star. Even more impressively, Crawford STAYED a star!

In rags-to-riches stories like Mildred Pierce, I'm always a sucker for the climb to the top.

Mildred Pierce is a mother and wife whose working class marriage is over. Determined to give her two daughters, Veda and May, a better life, driven Mildred goes from baking pies at home to a hardworking waitress. Pierce’s dream of opening her own restaurant comes true and she is on a winning streak. Unfortunately, her luck with men hasn’t changed. Mildred goes from boring Bert Pierce to cads with designs on her and/or her money. Then there’s oldest daughter Veda, for whom no amount of money seems enough. Mildred gets in over her head financially and emotionally.

***Spoilers ahead for the few who haven't seen what Mildred Pierce did!***

Though the movie differs from the book in how it handles scoundrel Monty in the mother-daughter triangle, it doesn't take away from the story. It’s rather ingenious how the film deals with a stepfather dallying with his stepdaughter, back in the crushing censorship era. Otherwise, it's a streamlined version of the James M. Cain novel. To compare the '45 WB film with the 2011 HBO mini-series is apples and oranges.

James M. Cain’s three best novels were made into acclaimed films in the mid-1940’s: Double Indemnity, Mildred Pierce, and The Postman Always Rings Twice. Author James M. Cain was pleased enough with Crawford’s performance that he sent a first edition Mildred Pierce to Joan, just prior to her Oscar win: “To Joan Crawford, who brought Mildred to life just as I had always hoped she would be and who has my lifelong gratitude."

Ah, the healing powers of winning an Oscar!

Jerry Wald was prolific, whether as a WB screenwriter, or later as producer. Wald was one of those golden era movie men who genuinely loved movies and their stars. Crawford had a huge cheerleader in Wald, who held out for Joan as Mildred Pierce. Wald and Crawford went on to make a total of five films together.

“Please don’t tell anyone what Mildred Pierce did!” This was a memorable but misleading slogan. Studio publicity departments tried to play up the sex angle for any movie this side of Mary Poppins. WB tried to paint Mildred Pierce as a femme fatale. In the trailer, the narrator pronounces: “Mildred, who left her mark on every man!” Husbands Bert and Monty attest to her wiles, with would-be suitor Wally wryly commenting, “Loving her was like shaking hands with the devil.” Given Wally’s treatment of Mildred, I’d say it was the other way around!

Who's the devil? Wally Fay thinks he hears opportunity knocking with newly single Mildred.

 The infamous box office poison list of 1938, created by independent theater owners, included the name Joan Crawford. While Joan’s later ‘30s movies may not have been blockbusters, most of them made near or over the $100 million mark in today’s dollars. Most of Crawford’s films weren’t outright clinkers, like Dietrich and Hepburn, also divas on the d-list. After Joan’s comeback in ‘39’s The Women, Crawford’s films were a mixed bag, but most of them still modestly successful.

Joan was down, but she wasn't washed up!

The real problem, IMO: Joan Crawford was viewed as past her shelf life. MGM’s other two divas, Garbo and Shearer, had both retired and all eyes were now on Crawford. Joan became famous at the height of the silent era, as the epitome of flaming youth, but it was now 1943. As Sharon Stone once quipped, every year in the life of a movie actress is like dog years. Ultimately, Joan had the same longevity as MGM’s Lassie, but she had to leave Metro to prove herself.

I never thought Joan’s Oscar competition for Mildred Pierce was that tough. Of the actresses, 3 of the 5—Ingrid Bergman, Greer Garson, and Jennifer Jones—had just won Oscars, so winning a second so soon was unlikely. Luise Rainer’s back to back Oscar wins—then straight to oblivion—cured the Academy of that impulse. Also, their current nominations were for popular, but not great movies—The Bells of St. Mary’s, The Valley of Decision, and Love Letters. That left Gene Tierney in Leave Her to Heaven. While this movie has been critically elevated over the years, at the time it was wildly popular, but viewed as pulp entertainment. As lovely as Tierney is, her performance ranges from trance-like to childishly petulant. One real contender wasn't even nominated: Dorothy McGuire, for her tough and tender Katie in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Even Dorothy’s homely cleaning girl in The Enchanted Cottage was more worthy. But Fox threw its votes to home girl Gene. Despite the competition, Joan's performance was a worthy winner on all fronts: a comeback, a career award, and a restrained performance in a fine film noir, smothered with mother love soap opera.

Less was more: toned down, but not de-glamorized. Joan in an early scene of Mildred Pierce.

Joan as Mildred is typically described as de-glamorized. Even by '45 standards, that's a stretch. Crawford was toned down from her typical over the top MGM glamour. Still, even as the pie-making housewife, Joan’s Mildred is wearing red lipstick, mascara, and high heels in the kitchen. For the first half of the film, when the waitress/cook is making her way to the top of the food chain, Joan's clothes, hair, and makeup are simple, and she looks most appealing. Once Mildred makes it big, Joan is suffering nobly in fur and shoulder pads.

This "gardening" outfit was typical over the top MGM gloss,
once Crawford's calling card, but was now considered old hat.

One amusing moment is the scene where devilish daughter Veda makes their maid, Lottie (Butterfly McQueen), wear Mildred's waitress uniform. This is a signal to her mother that Veda knows how Mommie makes the moolah. Just prior, Hattie exclaims how Mildred cooks all night and waits tables all day, and Crawford comments that it keeps her slim. McQueen looks in askance at her own generous waist line, plus, she's half a head shorter than Joan. Yet, there she is, fitting perfectly into Mildred's uniform!

Mildred's uniform on loan to Lottie!

As far as other actresses playing Mildred, it's been widely written that almost all the top WB actresses were considered. How true or how seriously each star was considered is hard to say. It’s also important to note that the script of Mildred Pierce was cycled through numerous screenwriters before Ranald McDougall’s was accepted.

Who wore it best? The same uniform as Lottie's? Ha!

WB’s queen Bette Davis probably had first pick, but her "big" personality was starting to overshadow her performances. Critic James Agee famously pointed this out in his review for Bette's ‘45 vehicle, The Corn is Green. Plus, she and Michael Curtiz didn’t get along.

I think Barbara Stanwyck would have made a more realistic Mildred than Joan and could have had a hit with the role. It’s been said that she wanted Mildred and Curtiz wanted her. But this was producer Jerry Wald’s baby and he wanted Crawford. Would “Missy” have been as iconic as Joan? Hard to say, but remember that Stanwyck is still raved about for her turn in Cain’s Double Indemnity.

Ann Sheridan was mentioned and she’s quoted as saying the early script depicted mother and daughter as too tough and the daughter “a horror.” Ann could have brought warmth and humor, and maybe Mildred Pierce could have been that star vehicle she never really got. Again, would Ann be iconic as Mildred?

Ida Lupino could have made a tougher Mildred, but she had just played a role similar in The Hard Way. Catch The Hard Way sometime and you will be surprised at how similar the opening scene is to Mildred Pierce.

My belief is that Joan Crawford offered to appear in Ann Blyth's screen test to show 
she was a team player AND to dispel any doubts about Crawford herself as Mildred. 

One thing that has stuck in my craw about Joan Crawford’s mythology is that she had to screen test for Mildred. It’s been written by reputable people and could very well be true. The anecdote that a great star like Joan had to screen test to get a part, then to win an Oscar for it!—sets my bullshit barometer off. Later stories say WB and/or director Michael Curtiz demanded the test. That, I flatly doubt. I can see where Joan felt confident enough to play Mildred that she offered to screen test for the role to remove any doubt. In recent years, at a Mildred Pierce screening, Ann Blyth said that Crawford was kind enough be in her screen test. Also, in a Hollywood Reporter interview, Blyth commented that it was unheard of for a star of Joan’s stature to screen test. There seems to be no physical evidence, which makes me suspicious. So, who knows?

Director Curtiz accused Crawford of trying to sneak in shoulder pads 
throughout Mildred Pierce. Thankfully, I don't think this pair made it in!

Mildred Pierce was altered to fit Crawford’s talents and image as a star; Pierce is more movie “moral” and less of a hausfrau. Joan’s stoicism and restraint are her hallmark here. Like all great stars, Crawford benefited from a strong director. Crawford excelled when George Cukor kept her “playing the star” in check, with The Women, and especially, A Woman’s Face. The movie Mildred Pierce fits Joan like a glove, and that’s how Joan played her, the steel beneath the velvet glove. 

After Veda gives her mother a wish list for future wealth (a maid, limo, and new house),
Mildred goes for a goodnight kiss, and Veda gives her the kiss-off! "Let's not get sticky about it."

Some have said that Crawford didn’t convey motherly warmth as Mildred, but I disagree. Pierce is so driven to succeed, for her children, that she has a hard time letting her guard down. Crawford conveys Mildred’s feelings toward her children and the men in her life very subtly. Especially when you consider Crawford’s performances in the next decade, Joan is at her most restrained here. Noteworthy, too, is Joan’s narration of the flashbacks. They are well-performed, with little of the grand “MGM English” that she acquired at Metro. Ultimately, all the elements about Joan Crawford, her life and career at this time, are what she put into the role, and helped make Mildred Pierce become so iconic.

Kid sister Kay's moving death scene.  From left: Bruce Bennett as Bruce Pierce,
Lee Patrick as Mrs. Biederhof, Ann Blyth and Joan Crawford as Veda and Mildred Pierce.

Ann Blyth got an Oscar nomination as Veda, yet she mostly stuck to ingénue roles. However, she was equally as nasty in ‘48’s Another Part of the Forest, as little fox Regina Giddens. As the grown up Veda, Ann Blyth reminded me very much of the young adult Gloria Vanderbilt, with her tilted eyes, downturned, toothy smile, and jutting chin. Blyth herself was just 17, the same age as when Veda gets her birthday car and starts growing up too fast. In the early scenes, Blyth looks very much like herself, a teenage girl. It's a tribute to the WB hair, makeup, and costume department that helps Blyth make a convincing young femme fatale. 

Ann Blyth at 17.

Young Gloria Vanderbilt resembles Ann Blyth.

Blyth is amusing when playing up Veda's pretensions. There’s the scene where Mildred tucks Veda into bed, with a promise of a better life, and the venal daughter asks if someday they could have a maid, new house, and maybe a limousine! What every war time teen wants, right? Blyth truly comes alive when she laces into Crawford’s Mildred. The showdown scenes between daughter and mother are electric. When her unusual features twist into a sneer and Veda lets Mommie have it, Ann Blyth is eerily convincing.

Zachary Scott was so effective as the charming cad that he was typecast forever. Off-screen, Scott was true southern gentleman, and well-liked. Blyth mentions his beautiful dark eyes in one interview and he was probably never more the debonair playboy than here, as Monte Beragon. In The Carol Burnett Show parody, Harvey Korman brilliantly skewers Scott’s snide demeanor. Yet Scott makes you believe there’s a side to Monte who still loved Mildred.

Zachary Scott is superb as scoundrel Monte Beragon,  who is about to take his first tip.

Jack Carson, as Wally Fay, is skilled at walking the fine line of funny and tough. His Wally is a con man, for sure, yet a likeable one. Carson’s Wally is a comic wolf, but has a soft spot for Mildred. Yet, the operator in Wally doesn’t let him forgo any opportunities. Carson has some of the most rat-a-tat-tat dialogue in the movie, with some real zingers, and he bats them out of the park every time. His line of delivery always reminded me of WB’s Looney Tunes Foghorn Leghorn!

Jack Carson as Wally Fay. Carson was wonderful in comedy, but equally adept in drama.

Eve Arden, as Mildred’s sidekick Ida, plays the definitive "Eve Arden" role. Arden is the no-nonsense observer, brittle but with a heart. Plus, she has most of the movie's best lines. Ida’s “femininity” is brought up so often, was this code for being “one of the girls?” Jo Ann Marlowe, as tomboy Kay, is not only believable, but a loveable scene stealer. You're actually crushed when Kay dies of pneumonia. Bruce Bennett has the thankless role of Bert, Mildred's dour hypocrite of a first husband. Yet, other Bennett performances that I've seen are much the same. He reminds me of a cranky Gary Cooper.

Eve Arden as Ida, Mildred's gal Friday. Arden basically created "the Eve Arden role."

Some minor quibbles:  Lee Patrick got short-changed a lot in her movies. It’s a tribute to her talent that she made the most of her screen time. Her Mrs. Biederhof is talked about more than seen... and that’s only at Kay's death scene! Speaking of which, Mildred Pierce has a zingy script by Ranald MacDougall, but Kay’s post-death scene, seems weakly written. Mrs. Biederhof scurries off to make tea and Mildred’s eulogy underwhelms, capped with, “Dear God, please don't anything happen to Veda.”

The most memorable moment of Mildred Pierce? Mother and daughter's big showdown.
Joan Crawford saves her trademark stare for the big scenes!

When Mildred finds Veda performing at a seedy night club, complete with drunken sailors’ catcalls, I’m always reminded of another long-suffering mother. That’s Annie in Imitation of Life, when she tracks down her daughter performing in a nightclub, with raucous old men leering at Sarah Jane. Both scenes follow the mamas’ visits to their daughters’ dressing rooms, shared with crass but good hearted older showgirls, natch. A real hoot for those who hate vain Veda—who once sneered at a dress Mildred scrounged for—is when she goes from a bare midriff costume to excusing herself to change, into a hula skirt! Sadly, the coconut shell bra was not shown.

Veda shakin' what her mother gave her. Mildred is so glad the music lessons paid off!

Like Michael Curtiz' Casablanca, all the elements in his take on Mildred Pierce are aces: the script is razor sharp, the cinematography and setups and sets are a storytelling marvel. The precision here, with all of WB’s top craftsmen on hand, there’s nary a wasted moment, with many subtle touches amongst the melodrama.

There's film noir, soap opera, and rat-a-tat-tat dark humor, all expertly woven. Naturally, WB tried to duplicate the huge success, so they churned a lot of noir soaps out, some named after the female characters, like Nora Prentiss and Flaxy Martin. Joan did several self-titled soaps, like Daisy Kenyon and Harriet Craig. Crawford also played a clutch of mature women from the wrong side of the tracks, clawing their way to the lonely top. Some were successes, some were not. Mildred Pierce is endlessly fascinating, and trying to replicate it was trying to catch lighting in a bottle.

Here's my take on the anti-Mildred Pierce, the notorious Mommie Dearest starring Faye Dunaway: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2021/09/the-making-aftermath-mommie-dearest-1981.html

And here's Zachary Scott as yet another cad, but this one gets a look back at how he became that way, in 1948's Ruthless, backed by an all-star cast: 

https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2025/08/zachary-scott-is-ruthless-to-stellar-co.html

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB  movie page. 

Check it out & join!  https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/

Another great scene between Blyth's vicious Veda & Crawford's long-suffering Mildred.

'The Hard Way': Marvelous WB Melodrama 1943

Ida Lupino & Joan Leslie: "Lord help the sister that comes between me and my man!"

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB  movie page. 

Check it out & join!  https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/

I watched The Hard Way, a 1943 Warner Bros. showbiz saga, for the first time recently.  Starring Ida Lupino, the Vincent Sherman-directed drama is a surprisingly tough film for Hollywood’s golden era. Perhaps that hardness is why it's not as well remembered as Mildred Pierce or other “women's pictures.”

De-glamourized WB dolls Lupino and Leslie plotting their way out of poverty.

The opening flashback scenes are gritty and authentic. “Greenhill” is a stand-in for every USA Midwestern industrial town. No MGM version of poor folk at working class WB in The Hard Way. As sisters Helen and Katie, Ida Lupino and Joan Leslie are make-up free and dressed-down dowdy in the film’s early scenes. Helen’s harried husband Jack is a decent man, burnt out as a miner, with no patience for their dreams of better things. Guess how long he’s in the picture?

Jack Carson and Dennis Morgan, teamed for the first time here, are travelling entertainers Albert Runkel and Paul Collins. Carson’s Albert comes off nearly as green as starry-eyed Katie, while Morgan’s Paul is the slick-talking player. Albert is taken both by Katie both professionally and personally; Collins does not want any souvenirs from their tour stops. This time, however, the easy-going Runkel prevails. Katie, with older sis Helen as manager, joins their act. And that’s when The Hard Way truly earns its title.

The film’s framing of the successful but suicidal woman's tale, told in flashback, was later lifted by Mildred Pierce. The older woman, who projects her ambitions onto the younger woman, is also echoed in Pierce. The Hard Way, based on a short story by Irwin Shaw, came out the same year as the James M. Cain novel, Mildred Pierce.

Ida Lupino is fierce as Helen, a working class woman who claws her way up.

WB queen bee Bette Davis turned down the role of Helen, which she later regretted. As Lupino was a decade younger than Davis, this was better casting, since Bette was 17 years older than Joan Leslie. If the roles were mother-daughter, Davis or especially, Joan Crawford, would have been great as the grasping Helen. Storywise, it might have made sense if they had, since it was rumored that the characters were based on Ginger Rogers and her legendarily scary stage mother, Lela. Ida Lupino and Joan Leslie were well-suited for the roles. Both came from theatrical families, so they were familiar with stage life. Lupino’s family had roots in theatre that dated back centuries. Leslie, starting as a child, was part of a vaudeville sister act. Joan sang, danced, did impersonations, and even played the accordion.

As the ruthless stage sister, Ida Lupino is just as no-holds-barred as Bette Davis at her best. But during the war years, the Academy Awards seemed to prefer uplift. Much was made of the fact that Lupino got a New York Film Critics Circle award but no Oscar nomination. Considering that perennial WB nominee Davis didn’t make the cut that year for her hits, Old Acquaintance or Watch on the Rhine, Lupino should have been a shoo-in. However, that year's Oscars lauded Jennifer Jones, Greer Garson, and Ingrid Bergman, all starring in glossy uplift: The Song of Bernadette, Madame Curie, and For Whom the Bells Toll. Joan Fontaine and Jennifer Jones, both in their mid-20s, played dreamy-eyed 14-year-olds in Bernadette and The Constant Nymph. (Jean Arthur’s comedic The More the Merrier was the fifth nominee). No room for Ida's gritty, unsentimental performance in this group!

Joan Leslie was only 17 when she played Katie, from schoolgirl to great star.

Usually ingénues who played sweet in Hollywood’s golden age were gooey. Joan Leslie is warm and sympathetic, a dramatic contrast to Ida’ Lupino’s lone wolf sister. Noteworthy too, in these showbiz sagas, a starlet is usually played by a well-established star. I recently commented on this, in the various A Star is Born remakes, where the rising stars Gaynor, Garland, Streisand, and Lady Gaga are already in their early 30s. Watching teenager Joan Leslie blossom into a star is striking, especially as Leslie starts going all Lindsay Lohan, rebelling against Lupino’s controlling character.

The Hard Way also features one of Jack Carson's great dramatic performances. In his serious roles, Carson had a laughing on the outside, crying on the inside quality. In The Hard Way, Mildred Pierce, 1954’s A Star is Born, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, and The Tarnished Angels, Carson is both funny and sad. Carson’s suicide scene, after his character is given the brush-off by his now-bride Leslie, is both genuinely shocking and moving.

The climb to the top leaves a few casualties along the way. Dennis Morgan, Joan Leslie, & Lupino.
.

As the ladies man turned one-woman man, this is one of Dennis Morgan's better acting efforts. Harboring a secret crush on Katie, Paul gradually becomes more vocal in his feelings toward her, and in his disdain for hell-on-wheels Helen. One of The Hard Way’s most striking scenes is when Lupino’s Helen lets down her guard and admits her own attraction to Morgan’s Paul. He sarcastically flings his standard pick-up line at her, causing hard-bitten Helen to revert to her stone-cold self.

Gladys George is great as a boozy star egged on by Lupino.

Gladys George has a great cameo as washed up stage star Lily Emery. George has only a few scenes, but she runs the gamut as the drunken diva mowed over by Helen, who offers up starlet sister Katie in her place.

Though The Hard Way has a following for Lupino’s performance, I've noticed certain critics and film fans still knock this movie. Specifically, the criticism is directed at the hardness of Lupino’s character/performance and Joan Leslie's perceived lack of talent.

I think Lupino is fantastic in The Hard Way, but this criticism may tie in with my question: Why didn’t Ida Lupino become a bigger star? She seemed lovely, charismatic, talented, intense, and more. But was Lupino a little too real, rather than larger than life, like Crawford and Davis? Was Lupino to Davis akin to Robert Mitchum when compared to Bogart? Excellent, yet earthbound, rather than mythic? Lupino had Davis’ intensity, but perhaps needed a few hits playing sympathetic roles, like Bette’s Now Voyager and The Great Lie. And Ida’s hard-boiled persona didn’t get the redeeming soft side that Crawford’s hard-edged characters usually did. The Hard Way is like Mildred Pierce, but without the mother love gloss.

Lupino as Helen, now a successful starmaker.

I think Ida’s second best status to Bette couldn’t have helped matters. The big problem perhaps was that Jack Warner seldom did well by his actors. Bette became the studio’s top female star—and film fans know what a battle Davis pitched to get good roles. Also, top star Barbara Stanwyck had a part-time contract with Warner Bros. Then, along came Joan Crawford, making a comeback from MGM. So, popular leading ladies Lupino, Olivia de Havilland, Jane Wyman, and Ann Sheridan were first up for the leftovers. And WB mostly wasted the next tier of younger actresses like Eleanor Parker, Alexis Smith, Lauren Bacall, Patricia Neal, Janis Paige, Dorothy Malone, etc.

So, here’s my shout-out for Joan Leslie, an actress I only knew by name until recently. Detractors of The Hard Way have labeled Leslie as a no-talent. Well, she ain't Judy Garland, but she's a decent musical performer and her acting is just fine. What armchair internet critics don’t realize is that one, Leslie was only 17 here, and second, Joan actually was a popular vaudeville performer. What seems corny today was entertaining back in the day. Think of the more typical musical stars of the time—Ginger Rogers, Eleanor Powell, Ruby Keeler, etc. Or even great Broadway legends like Ethel Merman, Mary Martin, or Carol Channing. They were hugely popular, but not versatile talents. (Yes, I know I’m opening a can of worms here!) What I found most striking about Leslie’s Katie was her vulnerable, appealing performance, with hints of steeliness as she soars to stardom.

Joan Leslie, as Katie, now a star.

Off-screen, Joan Leslie showed some steel, too. Leslie was the third actress to sue Jack Warner in a contract dispute. Bette Davis famously sued Warner Bros. in 1936 to get out of her contract—over bad roles. Davis lost the battle, but won the war, finally getting great parts. Olivia de Havilland sued Warner Bros. in 1944, for having suspensions from turning down roles added on to her contract. Olivia won, and though she didn’t work for two years, soon won two Oscars as an independent actress. Joan Leslie also won her suit with Warner, citing that she was a minor when she signed her contract. However, despite her popularity, her status as a starlet instantly ended. Like Olivia, Leslie claimed Warner blackballed her with other studios. Not unlikely, since Jack Warner was notoriously petty. Yet another popular starlet, Teresa Wright, more trained and versatile, and seven years older, found her expiration date as ingénue was also1946. Wright’s star swiftly diminished after The Best Years of Our Lives.

Looking back at Leslie’s film credits, it’s easy to see why Joan was getting fed up with WB. Joan Leslie started off with such films as High Sierra with Bogart, Sergeant York with Gary Cooper, Yankee Doodle Dandy with Cagney, followed by The Sky’s The Limit with Fred Astaire, The Hard Way with Ida Lupino, and The Male Animal with Olivia de Havilland and Henry Fonda. But by 1946, she was stuck playing characters in frothy comedies with names like Judy Jones and Sally Sawyer. Still in ‘46’s Two Guys from Milwaukee, teamed with Hard Way co-stars Morgan and Carson, Leslie’s appeal was still intact.

When writing movie reviews, I am often reminded of how often film stars, particularly from the golden era, seldom got happy endings off-screen. Well, Joan Leslie did. In 1950, Leslie married a doctor, and had twin daughters. She became a full-time wife and mother, and a part-time actress. Joan enjoyed a 50 year marriage and was proud of her daughters, who became college instructors. Joan Leslie lived to be 90, passing away in 2015.

Jack Carson only has eyes for Leslie. Lupino keeps an eye on Carson!

Vincent Sherman, whose tour of duty as a Warner Bros. director included wrangling Bette Davis and Joan Crawford, considered The Hard Way his most personal work. Sherman felt the story, on the toll that climbing the ladder of fame takes, was a cautionary tale. Viewers of The Hard Way find it either strong stuff or a bitter pill—I think it’s a great example of studio era filmmaking, with both style and substance.

Ida Lupino and Joan Leslie give their personal best in 'The Hard Way.'

"Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" Still Scorches 1958

Paul Newman & Elizabeth Taylor ARE Brick & Maggie in "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof."

Much has been written about Williams’ Pulitzer Prize-winning play losing its cat fight with the Hollywood censors over the 1958 film version of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

What is a B.I.? Let's just say that there was one diligently on duty in 1958's
"Cat on a Hot Tin Roof."
(Below, right) Apparently, the B.I. was nowhere to be found the next year during filming of Taylor's "Suddenly, Last Summer."

Critics of the cinematic Cat should consider that film censorship was so strong at the time that a B.I. vigilantly visited the set. What’s that, you ask? A Bust Inspector, of course! Later, Liz humorously wrote about the B.I., whose job was to perch upon a step ladder and look down Taylor’s bountiful bosom and make sure no excess cleavage was showing. According to Liz, this went on until short-tempered director Richard Brooks exploded one day, and the poor woman fled the set!

Paul Newman, as brooding Brick, who can't stop thinking about buddy Skipper.

Cat’s plot points that surround alcoholic former football star Brick and his best buddy, Skipper, were either omitted or obscured. Williams’ displeasure was vocal for decades after. For many years, the film version of Cat often received qualified praise because of those censored scenes. Recently, I’ve noticed some film reviewers now say that the censorship actually speaks to the era of ‘50s films and society. Ah, revisionist reviewers! But I kinda agree.

For me, the censorship of Cat has overshadowed the film’s virtues. Hollywood in the ‘50s was the last hurrah for their self-imposed Hayes Code. Williams had already experienced censorship in earlier film adaptations of his plays, especially 1951’s A Streetcar Named Desire.  What did Williams expect when MGM bought the film rights to Cat in 1956? That MGM’s Leo the Lion would put his story, with a subplot of suppressed man-love, on screen with a roar? My guess is that Williams was thinking more about the $500,000 MGM was paying him. It was much like Edward Albee’s later nitpicking over the screen version of his play Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf—after collecting an unheard of $500,000 for a first play. And unlike Williams, Albee got to see the adaptation of his play make it onscreen virtually intact.

Taylor & director Richard Brooks in a light moment.

In later interviews, Richard Brooks said that he knew he could take the material only so far with the censors. So, he worked with Newman, Taylor, and Ives in particular, regarding their characters’ discussion of Brick’s issues. Brooks said that their pauses, silences, and body language helped emphasize what went unspoken. Brooks also relied on camera angles and staging of his actors to suggest distance or discord.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof owes much of its classy status to its cast, especially Elizabeth Taylor and Paul Newman as Maggie and Brick, at their absolute prime of youth and beauty. But did you know when MGM bought the film rights, the plan was to cast their new “It” girl Grace Kelly as Maggie and borrow James Dean from Warner Brothers as Brick? Film fate intervened: Grace became a real-life princess and Dean died in legendary car crash. In fact, Newman inherited two other roles earmarked for Jimmy, Somebody Up There Likes Me and The Left-Handed Gun.

A few names were then bandied about during the casting of Cat, like Elvis Presley as Brick. Well, he was a Southern boy! MGM must have had dollar signs in their eyes after Presley cleaned up the cash for them with 1957’s Jailhouse Rock. Elvis and Liz, together…the mind boggles. For some reason, I see…fried chicken. A young actor under contract to Metro at the time was considered—William Shatner. Imagine all those pregnant pauses while Bill recites Williams’ rhetorical lines: “What…makes…Big Daddy…so…big?”

Lana Turner’s name was mentioned for Maggie, but I’m sure no-nonsense director Brooks nixed the notion of lacquered Lana’s posturing. Another MGM actress who might have impressed was Ava Gardner. She was a poor Southern girl like Maggie, who smoldered sultrily, and had lots of practice in marital warfare with Frank Sinatra. But like Turner, she was a full decade older than Elizabeth Taylor, and I bet the bottom line at MGM was they were well rid of their recently departed divas. So just-turned-26 Liz won the part, possibly the youngest Maggie the Cat ever.

Bette Davis was mentioned at the time for Big Mama, but Judith Anderson was cast instead. I wonder if it was because Davis had already worked with Cat director Brooks two years prior on The Catered Affair. Equally prickly Davis and Brooks got on like a house on fire. The film, about another squabbling family, and despite good reviews and stars Davis, Ernest Borgnine, and Debbie Reynolds—disappointed at the box-office. Like Liz Taylor once said about Hollywood’s bottom line, “There’s no deodorant like success.”

I wonder if former MGM star Spencer Tracy was considered as Big Daddy. Even then, a decade before his demise, Tracy was in frail health, which I thought would have added sad realism to the role. Father of the Bride co-star Taylor and director Richard Brooks certainly both adored him. However, Tracy appeared in The Desk Set with doting pal Kate Hepburn and then the popular political drama, The Last Hurrah, instead. I think off-screen curmudgeon Spence would have made a helluva Big Daddy.

Elizabeth Taylor starred opposite many method actors, including Newman,
Montgomery Clift, James Dean, and Marlon Brando. Lucky Liz!

Here’s something to think about when watching Cat on a Hot Tin Roof: filming was only in its third week when newlywed Elizabeth’s husband, producer Mike Todd, died in a plane crash. The only reason Taylor wasn’t on Todd’s plane, The Lucky Liz, was because she was home sick with a fever. Amazingly, despite her grief and the circus-like media coverage of Todd’s death, Taylor was back on the set just three weeks later. Paul Newman, a theater method actor and a relative movie newcomer, was at first skeptical of movie star Liz. When he saw Taylor’s famed tenacity in action, they became life-long friends.

Brick lets Big Daddy know there won't be anymore Happy Birthdays for him.

The strength of the film Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is its strongly directed ensemble cast. Newman admitted that he became a better actor later, but still, he has many intense moments with Taylor’s Maggie and Ives’ Big Daddy. Taylor, though her southern accent sometimes veers toward exaggeration, is the perfect Maggie. Much like Brando was the physical and casting ideal as Stanley in A Streetcar Named Desire, so is Taylor as Maggie the Cat. Both roles have often been played, on television and stage, but who has topped either?

One of  the most haunting scenes of "Cat," when Judith Anderson's Big Mama
dejectedly walks away from Big Daddy's abuse

And that super supporting cast. Despite my Spencer Tracy casting daydream, Burl Ives truly steals the show as the volcanic Big Daddy. Often cool  Judith Anderson is warm-hearted and big-mouthed as Big Mama. Both Ives and Anderson are towers of strength here. Madeleine Sherwood is hilarious as Mae, aka Sister Woman, looking like a pregnant Pekinese, and is always adding to her tribe of no-neck monsters.

Jack Carson in a stellar performance as brother Gooper.

A special shout-out goes to Jack Carson, a great comedic character actor who died young, and was equally good in dramatic roles.  Carson showed his funny and tough side as shyster Wally in Mildred Pierce; he was wisecracking and bitter as James Mason’s put-upon agent in A Star is Born; and in Cat, Carson is terrific as greedy second-best brother, Gooper.

Elizabeth Taylor testing a long wig as Maggie.

The 1958 film of Tennessee Williams’ Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is out on Blu-ray today, Aug. 9. The DVD blog reviews are positive, noting that the visual and sound transfer is as crisp as when Cat was released on the big screen. That’s good news because MGM’s latter day Elizabeth Taylor movies—Cat, Butterfield 8, and The VIPS—were all filmed in watercolor Metro-Color. Combined with wear and lack of restoration, these films often looked drab instead of fab. Let’s hope Liz’ other two MGM hits get the same star treatment.

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB  movie page. Check it out & join!  

https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/