OVP: Queen Bee (1955)

Film: Queen Bee (1955)
Stars: Joan Crawford, John Ireland, Betsy Palmer, Barry Sullivan, Lucy Marlow, Fay Wray
Director: Ranald MacDougall
Oscar History: 2 nominations (Best Costume, Cinematography)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

Melodrama is a term that has taken on a pejorative term over the years.  Critics have taken it to task for its lack of realism and its treatment of its characters in less-than-subtle terms, but these films, at their height in the 1940's and 1950's, occasionally reached a wonderful level of excellence.  In my opinion, the best of these melodramas were what is known by film historian's as a "woman's film," films of this era which focused exclusively on female protagonists and the rigors/travails of domestic life.  Some of the biggest names in Hollywood history made the bulk of their films in this genre including Bette Davis, Barbara Stanwyck, Olivia de Havilland, and perhaps most memorably, Joan Crawford.  The women that Ms. Crawford played were noble, but flawed, frequently trying to make a better life for themselves amidst a world that was trying to give up on them.

(Spoilers Ahead) This is why Queen Bee is such a delight, as it turns our typical Crawford protagonist on her head.  Her Eva Phillips looks like the sort of character that Crawford was born to play: she's in a loveless marriage, but vastly determined, and is fawned over by many men.  She's the sort of person that you expect to rise above it all and either heroically sacrifice herself for her marriage or for love.  And yet Crawford turned this on its head when she herself ends up being the harsh villain.  Eva Phillips is a nasty woman, consistently getting what she wants through almost any means necessary-she has manipulated and blackmailed the world around her so that everyone essentially caters to her every whim.

The best part about all of this is that Crawford makes Eva incredibly intoxicating.  There's no lack of star charisma in this performance, which could so easily border onto cartoonish (and occasionally it does, which I'll admit was pretty gleeful since after all of these years of Mommie Dearest-style depictions of Crawford this is that rare screen performance that emulates her post-career public persona), and we all desperately want to see what Crawford does next.  It helps that Lucy Marlow as her onscreen counter, the woman who is playing the role that Crawford might have taken earlier in her career (as a young, hard-luck girl who tries to find love in the most unlikely of scenarios), is incredibly mousy and is towered over by Crawford in performance, which lends itself to why her Jennifer actually sticks with Crawford in the film despite all evidence to the contrary.  The film continues with Eva continually getting her way until one of her underlings has enough and decides the only way to stop her is by killing her, though it's not initially the one that you would have expected.  The role is a perfect fit for Crawford, and you'd almost think it was written for her she performs it with such precision (indeed, Crawford, eternally the savvy star, bought the rights to the novel which Queen Bee is based upon and when she sold them to Columbia she stipulated that she would star).

The film received a pair of Oscar nominations, both highly-deserving.  The best of the two would be the wonderful costume design.  The film isn't shy about realism in this regard (it's hard to imagine even someone as self-involved as Eva dressing up in Jean Louis on a regular basis), but the French designer is marvelous, creating a series of get-ups and gowns for Crawford that are fascinating, and increasingly gaudy as her character succumbs to more and more vanity and gets a bit more reckless as the film progresses.  The other nomination for Cinematography is also well-earned.  Despite being filmed principally on a closed set (this category typically favors the out-of-doors), the film makes excellent use of camera angles and shadow, frequently highlighting characters in the background through slightly skewed angles.  There's also the terrific introduction of Crawford's Eva that is helped by the cameraman; we spend the first ten minutes or so of the picture waiting for Eva to make her entrance, and even when we are anticipating and know who will be playing her, the camera lights the scene well enough that it's first her dress, and then her face that is shown to the audience.  It's one of those rare cases where the black-and-white nominations from the 1950's for Cinematography actually feels earned, rather than just being tossed aside for a big name movie.

Those are my thoughts on this surprisingly fun melodrama-what are yours?  Do you think it deserved its two Oscars?  And share your thoughts on art-reflecting-life with Crawford's rare villain.