'Torch Song' 1953

'Torch Song' is when Joan Crawford crossed the line from mature to caricature.

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Before there was Cher or Madonna, Joan Crawford was the original Queen of Reinvention. By 1953, Crawford had survived “silents” turning into “talkies,” getting labeled box office poison in ‘37, leaving MGM in ’43 after nearly two decades, and now, ending her contract with WB in ‘52. And that was just her professional life! Crawford’s first film as a freelancer was Sudden Fear, which became a sleeper hit, and nabbed her third Oscar nomination.

Joan poses for a glamour shot.

Next up was Torch Song, the closest Joan Crawford ever got to make like Margo Channing in All About Eve. Joan played Jenny Stewart, the Broadway musical legend who walks all over anybody within range of her ankle strap heels.

Whether you believe Joan was born in 1903 or her official birth date in ‘08, at 45 or 50—or anywhere in between—she was still in great shape. A forerunner to the buff stars of today, Crawford was trim, taut, and her legs looked like they could crack coconuts.

MGM’s promotion heralded yet another “new Joan Crawford!” However, like many great film stars, Joan Crawford was a study of fascinating contradictions. Though famous for reinventing herself, Crawford had fallen into the star trap, stuck in past styles and personas, all in an effort to remain “ageless.” Shoulder pads, ankle strap shoes, magic marker eyebrows, and grand acting in overwrought vehicles got Crawford gradually labeled passé. Joan occasionally toned down her style or tried something new, but Crawford’s comfort zone toward overstatement would eventually overrule. Like many studio system stars, few had genuine good taste, and Crawford came off best when she heeded her stylists’ or designers’ advice.

Joan agreed to candid shots by Sanford Roth on the set.

MGM’s publicity machine and the press got all mushy about Joan’s return “home.” Joan, at least publicly, did the same. However, MGM in 1953 was very different from the magnificent Metro studio Crawford had left a decade before. Studio head “Papa” Louis B. Mayer was gone. Few of Crawford’s contemporaries were still there, and many of the next generation stars, who came after Joan, were now slowly on their way out.

Joan’s return engagement, Torch Song, was in reality, a B+ picture. Musical dramas were all the rage in the first half of the ‘50s. With a Song in My Heart and three that were made at MGM: Interrupted Melody, Love Me or Leave Me, and I’ll Cry Tomorrow. They all had bigger budgets, better stories, and the best box office returns, whereas Torch Song was filmed in a mere 24 days. Bette Davis had recently played a theatrical star in All About Eve, for Crawford’s old MGM producer Joseph Mankiewicz, in just over three weeks, too. The difference? Bette was part of an ensemble in Eve, whereas Joan was the whole show in Torch Song.

When Joan Crawford was young and eager to learn, her best work was often in ensemble pieces with actors and directors she admired—Grand Hotel, Dancing Lady, The Shining Hour, The Women, and A Woman’s Face. After her Mildred Pierce comeback at Warner’s, Crawford went from Humoresque, Daisy Kenyon, and Possessed to movies that veered into vanity vehicles.

From Joan Crawford to 'Eternity': 'Autumn Leaves' in '56.

Sadly, Joan turned down a chance to star in From Here to Eternity during this time, in the part Deborah Kerr ultimately played. Rumor has it Joan rejected Eternity over wardrobe issues. Though Joan was at least a dozen years older than Kerr, she was fairly close to Burt Lancaster’s age. Crawford might have made a touching Karin Holmes, tough on the outside, vulnerable deep down—right up her acting alley. Though Fred Zinneman started at MGM, he was a modern filmmaker, and not the man to cajole Crawford into dropping her act, and get her to genuinely act. Still, Joan did get a chance to roll around the surf with a leading man a few years later, a young Cliff Robertson, in Autumn Leaves. What a pity that Joan’s tunnel vision caused her to reject a juicy role from the year’s biggest best-seller.

Joan gets gorgeous for 'Torch Song.' My advice for Crawford would have been ditch that carrot-colored wig, at right.

Though Joan put on her best game face for Torch Song, I don’t think that Crawford had cosmetic surgery on her face and bosom for this minor film, as rumored. I think Joan just pulled back the skin tapes, slapped that orange wig over them, put a pair of her fabled falsies in a bullet bra, and soldiered on. What resulted was typical of Joan Crawford’s latter day work: fans and friendly press marveled over her ageless glamour, great figure, and larger than life persona; non-fans and more discerning showbiz writers wondered how much longer Crawford’s cinematic self-belief could carry her.

A portrait of Joan...and Michael Wilding.

Torch Song’s story is as slim as the star’s sleek figure: Broadway legend Jenny Stewart is in the throes of mounting a new show; her way of working is to throw tantrums and insist everything be done her way. The diva wears everyone down as she changes choreography, dialogue, costumes, and co-workers… enter blind pianist Tye Graham, who refuses to kowtow to Crawford’s go-for-the-jugular Jenny.

Critics of Christina Crawford’s Mommie Dearest claim that Joan’s adopted daughter recycled aspects of Crawford’s latter day bitch roles for her tell-all tome. I think the exact opposite is true. Hollywood studios were notorious for blurring their stars’ personal lives and onscreen roles. Especially MGM divas like Joan, Judy, Lana, and Liz, who often played roles—usually in late career—that echoed their own lives.

Christina Crawford gives her mother a foot massage in this 'candid' shot, after one of Joan's dance numbers in 'Torch Song.'

Joan Crawford’s on-screen "star" is so tough and autocratic, and obviously based on the latter day JC herself. I find it fascinating Crawford agreed to come back to her home studio, after a decade away, for this unflattering portrait of Joan. For such a formula Joan Crawford picture, there's so much subtext going on that the surface story is superfluous. 

Joan Crawford with loyal fans. In 'Torch Song,' they are played by teens!

Torch Song is a prime example of the superstar as self-parody. Joan used her personal life to publicize her career, and specifically, to bolster this film: Crawford’s tough climb to the top, perfectionist ways, tantrum throwing temper, boyfriends as accessories, freeloading family, fawning fan love, and overall lonely way of life. There’s a telling scene toward the end of Torch Song: The pissed off pianist predicts that if Jenny doesn’t change her witchy ways, she’ll end up alone, a boozy self-parody of her former superstar self.

Chuck Walters, a reliable MGM studio hand, was chosen to guide Crawford through her turn as a Broadway singing and dancing diva. In Crawford’s memoir Portrait of Joan, she commented on the challenge of “all the singing and dancing” in Torch Song, after all those years. Joan started out as a Charleston queen, sang and danced a little in a few of her 1930s films, and was humored by Mayer in an attempt at a singing career—but the fact is Crawford hadn’t done either since the late ‘30s. While Crawford was graceful and had great energy in her youth, Joan wasn’t a professional dancer. And though the songs warbled by Joan during her Metro years were serviceable, after hearing her rejected vocals for Torch Song, I suspect she got a lot of help from the recording studio gurus. On one YouTube clip, with Crawford’s raw vocals dubbed back in, Joan begins pleasantly, but is unable to sustain singing more than a line or two. By the end of the series of takes, Crawford’s confidence is as wobbly as her vocals.

Crawford in Technicolor for the first time... not quite.

India Adams was brought in. The singer had already dubbed the track Two Faced Woman for Cyd Charisse in The Band Wagon, never used, and it was recycled in Torch Song. So, Adams dubbed the remainder of Crawford’s musical cuts. Unfortunately, though throaty Adams’ voice was as dramatic as Crawford’s studied “MGM English,” their voices don’t even sound remotely alike. The disembodied vocals boom out of Joan’s mouth to comic effect, much like silent star Lina Lamont in Singin’ in the Rain.

Marjorie Rambeau manages to steal the three scenes she's in 'Torch Song!'

Torch Song gave Joan a great supporting cast: Michael Wilding as Tye Graham, the blind pianist and Joan’s sparring partner; Harry Morgan as the seen-it-all producer; Marjorie Rambeau as Joan’s working-class mother; Gig Young as her boozy boy toy; and Maidie Norman as Crawford’s gal Friday (who later played Joan’s housekeeper Elvira in Baby Jane). Aside from Wilding’s philosophizing pianist, the rest of the characters just disappear, after a scene or two with Joan. Wilding, though his faraway gaze and lofty sentiments reminded me of mystical Tyrone Power in The Razor’s Edge, he’s soothing in contrast to Crawford’s relentless carping. However, Marjorie Rambeau is the real scene stealer here. With only three scenes, Rambeau somehow snagged a best supporting actress Oscar nomination. Majorie has some great moments as Joan’s lower class mama, as when she laments the lack of hops in beer and salt on pretzels! Nancy Gates, as Joan’s “kid sister,” is right up there with Mimi Rogers as Barbra Streisand’s baby sis in The Mirror Has Had Two Face Lifts. Gates was 27 at the time, as the younger sibling in need of cash from her big sister, for piano lessons—with Joan at least 45 here.

Joan is a 'Torch-Faced Woman' in this infamous number.

Surprisingly, there’s only one full musical number in Torch Song, and it’s become infamous. “Two-Faced Woman” showcases Joan as she swans around a sea of singers and dancers, not doing much real dancing, and lip-synching to Adams’ near-operatic vocals. Decked out in a mink stole and aqua blue spangles and fluff, Joan tops the tacky look off with a black face and wig. In That’s Entertainment 3, Debbie Reynolds’ narration discreetly describes Crawford’s makeup as “tropical.” In Joan’s memoirs, Crawford called the makeup “high yellow.” Movie fans have called it high camp. 

Lena Horne in her 'Light Egyptian' makeup as a MGM star.

Some film folk claim it’s the same makeup created for fellow Metro star Lena Horne. Horne never appeared in such a dark hue on film, whereas Joan looked like she fell asleep while eating a bag of Hershey bars. If the number was deleted, as some say it should be, there would be NO song and dance numbers in this musical, save for Joan’s sashaying in the film’s opening, and one song sung by Joan while leaning against a wall. Just as insulting as the blackface are the many digs Joan’s Jenny takes toward the pianist’s blindness, as if it’s a character defect. The low point comes when Jenny glares at his dog and snarks that Tye needs a nice seeing-eye girl.

When Tye Stewart heatedly argues over Jenny’s single-minded drive for stardom, he refers to her youthful self as a Gypsy Madonna. Later, that phrase comes up in a heart to heart with Mom, and she digs up Joan/Jenny’s first scrapbook of clips. Lo and behold, before Tye went off to war and lost his eyesight in battle, he saw Jenny when she was first making it big in showbiz, and wrote a love letter of a review. Yes, that’s World War Two we’re talking about! Time is subjective in a Joan Crawford movie.

Well, not until Bette Davis treated Joan like a soccer ball in 'Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?'

Crawford’s Jenny Stewart is an unrelenting shrew to just about everyone in her orbit. Yet in the final scene, when the pianist finally naps, Crawford condescendingly asks if this is finally a crack in his façade. The implication is that her prior behavior was just an act, to break through his aloofness. This makes zero sense, since it’s been established that Jenny Stewart is a bitch on wheels from the film’s first frame. Hey, this is Joan’s revisionist world, and we’re just watching. This and all the other twisted inconsistencies add up to make Torch Song the biggest camp fest this side of a Boy Scouts Jamboree.

It's lonely at the top...especially when you wear canary yellow adult "One-sies" while lounging in the bedroom!

Crawford certainly enjoyed playing this type of role, which she repeated in Queen Bee and The Best of Everything. Nearly 15 years later, when Valley of the Dolls, another show biz soap opera, was casting, Joan reportedly expressed interest in playing another battleaxe, Helen Lawson. I’m sure Joan would have been great and not the least bit deterred that the young dolls were all 20-something, because Joan would have insisted on establishing that Helen was only 47, like Straitjacket!

Carol Burnett and Harvey Korman in her spoof,  'Torchy Song.' 

Carol Burnett parodied this Crawford vehicle, hers dubbed Torchy Song. Joan previously had called Carol and praised her other take-off on Crawford, re-titled Mildred Fierce. This time, Joan was hurt by what she considered a mean-spirited spin on Torch Song. Today’s satire of pop culture is pretty merciless compared to the ‘70s, but even in its time, The Carol Burnett Show and its send ups were good natured. Burnett, a one-time usherette, was a huge movie fan, and often invited old time Hollywood stars on her show, like Lana Turner, Rita Hayworth, and even Gloria Swanson, who Carol often spoofed in the silent star’s Sunset Boulevard role. I’m surprised that Crawford never guest-starred on Carol’s show, as she appeared on many variety shows, including The Tim Conway Show. As for Joan’s hurt feelings, I think it was a case of Crawford’s moods being like a weather vane, much like that notorious two-faced woman!

Torch Song is a train wreck of a film, but it is great fun for Joan Crawford fans, to watch the determined diva give her considerable all. Mainstream movie fans may want to stick with Mildred Pierce!

"Superstar!"