Joan Crawford IS ‘Harriet Craig’ 1950

 

In 1950's "Harriet Craig," that Ming vase moves around more than a planchette
on a Ouija board, much to her consternation! Joan Crawford calls it a 'vah-z.'

Harriet Craig is a 1950 remake of George Kelly's Pulitzer Prize winning play Craig's Wife. It had been filmed as a 1928 silent with Irene Rich and again in '36 with Rosalind Russell as the house-proud witch of a wife. Columbia borrowed WB director Vincent Sherman and star Joan Crawford for this version. Sherman had just directed Joan Crawford to good effect in 1950’s The Damned Don't Cry. They would also team for Goodbye, My Fancy directly after Harriet Craig.

My take on "Harriet Craig" is part of this blogathon May 15-17!

Wendell Corey plays Walter Craig, whipped hubby of "Harriet Craig."
Two guesses as what he'd like to do with his wife's prized Ming!

I'm not sure why Kelly's play won the Pulitzer, especially from today's standpoint. The story of a warped woman who cares for her home like a museum, with a husband that she treats like a pet, is watchable, doesn't offer much back story in the '36 version. Craig’s Wife is only one hour and 15 minutes, as well as the silent version, so I can only assume the play was the same. Harriet Craig is 95 minutes, but feels more in-depth as the film focuses solely on her. The ’36 version’s supporting characters are so truncated that they barely get more than one scene. Rosalind Russell was considered too young for Harriet Craig. Why I don't know, because the character is supposed to be newly married and whose husband wants children. The stage actresses who played Harriet were older and so was Joan Crawford. Russell and John Boles do well as the ‘30s Craigs, and Roz gives a controlled performance, not going over the top as she could do later in her career.

Rosalind Russell, a year younger than Crawford,
played "Craig's Wife" in 1936.

Along with Joan Crawford as Harriet Craig, Wendell Corey is affable Walter Craig, K.T. Stevens plays Harriet’s cousin Clare, Ellen Corby is nervous maid Lottie, Viola Roache is housekeeper Mrs. Harold, Allyn Joslyn is Billy Birkmire, William Bishop is Clare’s beau Wes, and Lucile Watson is the boss’ wife. Vincent Sherman, an underrated WB director, does a smooth and stylish job here. Sheila O’Brien (intentionally?) gives Crawford’s costumes a severe uniform-type look.

Tempest in a tea cup: "Harriet Craig" berates maid Lottie for breaking a cup,
then the housekeeper for defending her. No surprise that Harriet can't keep help!

Some film fans and critics think that the book and film version of Mommie Dearest borrowed from Joan's latter day films such as Harriet Craig. I can see that, but the fact is studios often blurred their stars' images with reality. MGM divas especially seemed to star in vehicles that mirrored their own lives: Joan, Judy, Lana, and Liz come to mind.

Joan Crawford as "Harriet Craig."  In this scene, I half expected her to sprout fangs!

And though Harriet Craig follows the basic structure as Craig's Wife, Joan Crawford’s she-devil is in the details. Harriet Craig opens with her household in a dither, because she is making an unexpected trip. Joan's Harriet has a younger woman as her girl Friday to do her bidding. Here, it's not a loyal servant, but her cousin Clare. Joan’s “MGM English” is on full display when she calls her Clar-uh. Everything is not going Harriet’s way, so she is brittle and bossy. Mrs. Craig must have her make-up kit and cousin along for a week's visit. No, Harriet’s not promoting a film or Pepsi, but visiting her mother at a mental institution. Hubby Walter comes home early, despite an important project, yet Harriet gives him her patented passive/aggressive browbeating about how she must make do for herself, asking where he’s bean. This is the couple's first separation in nearly four years of marriage. Can Mr. Craig survive a week on his own? He's almost 40, with his childhood housekeeper to help, plus a maid. Most importantly, there’s Harriet to check up on him.

Joan as "Harriet Craig," bringing gifts to her mother in an institution.
Neurotic Harriet could use a visit there, herself!

At the asylum, the mother is sweet but unresponsive to Harriet's fervid attentions. Though it seems like Harriet just arrived, supposedly a week has gone by before Harriet talks to the director. Harriet seems uncomfortable talking about her family's dysfunction. In a speech that seems lifted from Crawford’s own life, Harriet bitterly recounts the father that left them and how she had to quit school and work in a laundry. Afterward, Harriet finds out from Clare that nobody seems to be at the Craig abode, and immediately decides to leave. On the train, Clare confides of her crush on Walter’s work pal, Wes. Harriet explains to her niece about her way of married life: men are to be “trained,” not trusted. Crawford and K.T. Stevens, who clearly look their age at age 44 and 31, are at odds with their characters’ situations in life. Harriet took her cousin Clare in when her parents died. So, when did she take her in? Stevens, mature in style, seems foolish as the naïve young thing. Joan’s Harriet, talking about her four year marriage with Walter makes one wonder what she did with the other two decades of her life!

When Cousin Clare can't reach anybody at the Craig house, Harriet decides to bail
on visiting Mother, and high-tail it back home. From 1950's "Harriet Craig."

Why any actress would want to play this unrelenting shrew, in an ultimately pointless story, is beyond me. That Joan Crawford sought this role out is strange. Even by 1950, her demand for perfection and order was well-known and part of her persona. Did she think Harriet Craig was just a juicy role? Or was Joan Crawford drawn to the role because it spoke to her own experience?

When Mr. & Mrs. Craig finally have it out, wife Harriet's rationale hardly rates
any sympathy for her hard-bitten character. Joan Crawford as "Harriet Craig."

Once director Sherman and star Joan were on board, some Crawford-isms were added to the mix. When everyone’s flying around in a tizz to get Harriet off to the train station, you half expect to see Joan’s real maid Mamacita run in with the tissue paper for packing clothes. Perfectly packed and on schedule made me think of Crawford’s late-life book, My Way of Life. Once she’s gone, beleaguered maid Lottie comments that Harriet’s not particular, she’s peculiar. The maid says that Harriet would wrap up her entire house in cellophane, which made me think of Joan’s later plastic covered furniture, curtains, and plastic flowers!

When Hurricane "Harriet Craig" is out of the help's hair, they can let down their hair!

Harriet Craig is officially the film where Joan began to look hard. While a little of it creeps up in Flamingo Road and The Damned Don’t Cry (looking good, but too old for these roles), Harriet Craig finds Joan looking quite forbidding. The make-up mask is pronounced and would become even more exaggerated throughout the ‘50s. Shoulder pads and severe tailored clothes were on their way out, but not for Crawford. Joan had many unflattering short hairdos through the ensuing decade, but Harriet Craig had the worst hair: short, slicked, with tiny little waves that made her like Bob’s Big Boy. A shame, since Joan sported a trim figure and superb bone structure here.

You'd make this face, if you had this hair do! As the title character in 1950's
"Harriet Craig," this is possibly the worst hair do of Joan Crawford's film career.

Who wore the hair best? Bob's "Big Boy" or "Harriet Craig?"

Crawford’s Harriet smiles maybe twice, both times to cajole her husband. The rest of the time Joan’s unhappy housewife gives everyone the deep freeze with her grim mask of disapproval. Allan Joslyn as playboy pal of Harriet’s hubby gets to react hilariously to her disdain. You want to stand up and applaud when the housekeeper finally tells her off. And the big moment is when Harriet’s husband finally has had it with Harriet’s lies and manipulations.

Joan Crawford as "Harriet Craig." Here, the housewife from hell makes hubby's pal
 feel sooo welcome! 

In a rare moment of levity, Allyn Joslyn comically melts under the withering gaze
of Joan Crawford's "Harriet Craig."

With Joan’s other ‘50s bitch roles, they are campy enough where you can enjoy them on several levels, amused when nobody gets the better of Joan at her bitchiest, like Torch Song, Queen Bee, or Female on the Beach. But there’s not humor here, just exhaustion, from that piece of work, Harriet Craig.

The hard makeup, severe hair style, and uniform-style costumes suggest many things,
 but not an upper middle class housewife! Joan Crawford as "Harriet Craig."

Your sympathies are toward the servants as they are sent packing. Even the naïve cousin cannot avoid seeing Harriet’s lies and packs it in. And finally, Walter Craig finds out one manipulative lie too many and their marriage is as beyond repair as Harriet’s priceless Ming vase—sorry—vah-z. By the way, Crawford’s longtime pal, actor turned designer Billy Haines designed Harriet’s home, which is why it looks like a mid-century movie star temple!

Joan Crawford as "Harriet Craig." Here, she cooks up one of her most manipulative
 schemes. That's K.T. Stevens as Cousin Clare, foot servant to Harriet!

Aside from the drill sergeant precision with which Harriet runs her home, neither she nor its occupants are ever at ease. Harriet also makes time to manipulate other people’s lives, if it helps her maintain the status quo in hers. She brands the widow neighbor as a flirty schemer. When Walter gets a work-related stint in Japan, Harriet throws her hubby under the bus to get his boss to have him stay home. Harriet also lies about Walter’s co-worker, who is serious about Clare. As the housekeeper wryly says to the maid, if Clare left, Harriet would only have two servants! This movie could have been called All About Harriet.

The few times Joan Crawford cracks a smile as "Harriet Craig" is when her character
 is manipulating husband Walter, genially played by Wendell Corey.

Watching Harriet act out every time something goes outside her rigid game plan is cause for drama: hubby’s late night card game in her absence; a broken tea cup; a dinner guest who asks to play cards with her husband; and many other actions that she sees as offenses.

Lucile Watson's a delight as the wife of Walter Craig's boss. Here, she cheats at cards
 and throws off the regimented party plan of "Harriet Craig." With Wendell Corey.

Harriet Craig is worth a watch once. Joan Crawford certainly gives her all, as usual. This Harriet is totally about Joan and she makes the most of it. Sadly, it doesn’t feel like Crawford the film goddess is only acting as the domineering domestic goddess. Wendell Corey, who could play both good and bad guys well, is most genial and likeable here. He also had the most piercing blue eyes, very effective for dramatic scenes. As Walter Craig, he is most adoring and doting toward his wife. The supporting cast is very good, as each of them tangle with Harriet, and flee. Lucile Watson is a delight as usual, as the boss’ wife who has Harriet’s number.

Joan Crawford as "Harriet Craig." In mid-career, Joan seemed to have staircase showdowns with younger actresses. At least K.T. Stevens doesn't get slapped!

While Harriet Craig did modestly at the box office, I can’t imagine why post-WWII audiences would have flocked to see a 40-something star playing a domineering dame in a sterile soap opera. Harriet Craig is more a Crawford curiosity than a camp classic.

Here’s my in-depth look at Crawford’s career best: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2020/03/how-joan-crawford-became-mildred-pierce.html 

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

"A chair is still a chair, even when there's no one sitting there." The finale of "Harriet Craig," when she's finally driven everybody out of her house, including her husband.

 

Bette VS Miriam: “Old Acquaintance” 1943

 

Bette Davis & Miriam Hopkins toast each other at the end of "Old Acquaintance." 
AFTER their two hour acting bout!

I never saw 1943’s Old Acquaintance until I wrote this essay—gasp!—but have caught the famous shakedown scene between sparring stars Bette Davis and Miriam Hopkins. I tend to gravitate toward Davis in her “bad Bette” roles and this movie seemed soapy and sappy. The WB film was based on the Broadway hit by John Van Druten, famed for smart stage comedies, so I was pleasantly surprised. 

The famous moment from "Old Acquaintance." Bette shakes Miriam like a Polaroid camera!

Old Acquaintance takes place over a near two decades in the rocky course of Kit Marlowe and Millie Drake's friendship. Davis’ Kit is a smart, no-nonsense writer of critically acclaimed but commercially-challenged books. Hopkins’ Millie, an indulged young wife, is forever competitive with Kit. With her bestie’s help, Millie wants to be a published author, too. However, the silly but steel-willed Millie wants to write commercial crowd-pleasers, and eventually succeeds.

Miriam Hopkins & Bette Davis as life-long friends & rivals in "Old Acquaintance."

Over the years, Kit becomes close to Millie's husband Preston, and daughter Deirdre, which becomes a bone of contention. Millie manages to wreck her marriage all by herself, yet has no problem in trying to pin the blame on Kit. In the final act, Millie's husband plans to remarry, her daughter is a grown woman, and Kit has a younger beau. All comes to a head when Millie discovers Preston professed his love to Kit, and daughter Deirdre is in love with Kit's young man. 

The roles of Kit and Millie offer a field day for Bette Davis and Miriam Hopkins. The stars were re-teamed for Old Acquaintance after their 1938 hit, The Old Maid. Once again, Bette is the subdued, more sympathetic one, and Miriam is the glamorous gadfly. Interestingly, these two movies were the biggest hits from Miriam Hopkins' leading lady days. Hopkins has a ball as the high-strung trash novel writer. Miriam’s performance as a comic bitch is much more on-target than Candice Bergen's hit-and-miss performance in the remake, Rich and Famous. Miriam’s kinetic energy is funny, yet fearsome. Hopkins, a bigger star during the first half of the ‘30s, was also six years older than Davis, but now Bette was the bigger star. However, Hopkins more than held her own in Old Acquaintance!

Art imitating life? Miriam Hopkins & Bette Davis dig deep into their psyches to play frenemies! 

As for Bette Davis, I particularly enjoyed her relaxed performance as Kit in the character’s younger years. An idealized portrait of the Davis persona, Kit is wryly humorous, smart, straightforward, and sympathetic. Davis plays with restraint against Hopkins' dervish of a diva. This works for the movie and their performances.

Bette Davis as young Kit Marlowe in "Old Acquaintance." If that name sounds familiar, it's because that's what Columbia's Harry Cohn wanted to name Kim Novak!

While Bette has great moments as the 40-something Kit, Davis turns rather first lady-ish, as critic James Agee noted of her later WB performances. Bette snaps her lines as crisply as when Margo Channing chomps that celery stick in All About Eve. Also, why would sensible Kit slather on more makeup and sport a candy cane-style silver streak in her hair? Still, Bette has some stellar scenes, as when Kit and the young beau are at cross purposes regarding marriage. Davis’ finale with Hopkins, as they toast each other in friendship, is genuinely satisfying. Some critics carped as to why these two women were friends in the first place. Well, I've had some unlikely friendships that I've sometimes questioned, too!

Shellacking Bette Davis with makeup and a silver streak seems out of
character for the older Kit Marlowe. With Gig Young.

I found Old Acquaintance's story surprisingly adult for the era, with some great lines, and plot turns. The one major beef I have is with the last act. I realize older movies and plays had conventions that were less than realistic. But Old Acquaintance has one that’s just illogical: Kit puts off younger beau Rudd's marriage proposal. Rejected, he immediately is charmed by Deirdre, who he has just called a spoiled brat. They now instantly fall in love. Beau goes back to Kit, to tell her he will now marry Deirdre. And the young woman is hurt when she finds out Rudd had planned to marry Kit. If the former romance was a secret, I missed that plot point! If this had been presented gradually, it would be more believable. 

Though Kit acts as a surrogate mother toward Dolores Moran's Dierdre, she later is shocked that Gig Young's Rudd was romancing Bette's writer. John Loder at left.

John Loder as Preston Drake is solid if not exciting; Delores Moran is decent as daughter Diedre, but I can see why her career didn't go anywhere. Anne Revere has a delicious bit as a sharp reporter. I was shocked to find that Kit’s handsome young beau was Gig Young. Just five years younger than Davis, Young is impossibly youthful and gorgeous; a far cry from his later craggy good looks that were marred by alcoholism.

Gig Young was always distinguished, but I had no idea he was so handsome.

Vincent Sherman does another good job with a "woman's picture" as they were once called. He keeps the episodic story moving and stylish, to boot. Sherman keeps the ladies from chewing the scenery. I'm sure the WB director had his work cut out for him, as this was Bette and Miriam’s acting bout all the way.

Bette Davis & Miriam Hopkins feud was thus publicized on their first film, "The Old Maid!"

Old Acquaintance is far superior to the dreary remake, 1981’s Rich and Famous. Star and producer Jacqueline Bisset opted for the Davis role, with Candice Bergen cast as the crass pulp writer. While Bisset is a subtle actress and Candice has a flair for comedy, their remake felt even more old-fashioned than the original, despite the sex scenes. Bisset's writer isn't just serious, but morose through much of the movie. While Candice is often fun as the catty rival, Pauline Kael rightly pegged Bergen as giving a drag queen performance and that Bisset's character is more of a gay male fantasy. I thought this watching Rich and Famous because it reminded me of criticism about Sex and the City. Perhaps this is because gay men were at the helm of the respective productions?

All eyes back on Old Acquaintance: If you want to watch a stylish comedy-drama, with two great stars creating sparks, Old Acquaintance is a great match. 

 

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

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

 

Bette as older Kit in "Old Acquaintance." Off-screen, Davis was working to form
the Stage Door Canteen, to benefit WWII troops.

Ann Sheridan's Glamour Brightens Gloomy Noir 'Nora Prentiss' 1947

Ann Sheridan is top-billed and the title character, but plays second fiddle to WB's resident wimp, Kent Smith!

Ann Sheridan, one of the '40s most appealing actresses, had her last hurrah with WB in 1947-48. The Unfaithful was a San Fran transplant of The Letter and Nora Prentiss was a domestic drama turned film noir. Sheridan teamed with Errol Flynn in ’48 for the Raoul Walsh western, Silver River. Ann then appeared in Leo McCarey's Good Sam with Gary Cooper. Though the comedy disappointed critics and audiences, Sheridan and Cooper’s appeal still helped make it a box office success. None of these movies are classics, but overall, were popular at the time.

After leaving WB, Ann starred in Howard Hawks 1949's I Was a Male War Bride with Cary Grant. Sheridan was sparkling in this smash screwball comedy, with Hawks' showcasing Ann’s comic flair as he did with Carole Lombard in Twentieth Century.

Ann Sheridan in a publicity pose as 'Nora Prentiss.' Though hyped as a femme fatale, Ann's singer is sympathetic.

With all this, Sheridan’s box office standing seemed in better shape than most veteran female stars. Yet, the bottom dropped out of Ann Sheridan’s career in 1950. Was it because Sheridan turned 35? Back then, that was the point of no return for an actress. Was it that Sheridan never had a signature movie role? Say, a role or film that could take Ann to the next level, of a Carole Lombard, Jean Arthur, or Rosalind Russell? Even as Randy Monaghan in Kings Row, Sheridan didn’t appear till nearly half way through the picture. Was it because she wasn’t a careerist, like Crawford, Davis, and Hepburn? I think that Sheridan was a bit like Joan Blondell, someone who was considered a great broad that could do a little of everything, but not a so-called great actress, like Norma Shearer or Greer Garson.

What a shame, since Ann Sheridan had one of film’s most distinctive personalities, full of warmth and good humor. Not only was Sheridan a terrific wisecracking comedienne, but also a natural dramatic actress, much like Lombard. Ann also had an appealing singing voice, unlike many dubbed movie divas. Sheridan looked like a more “down to earth” version of Rita Hayworth, and wasn't called 'The Oomph Girl' for nothing! With all of this going for her, why did Ann Sheridan’s star fall so far after 1950?

I preferred the first half of 'Nora Prentiss,' where the good doc is torn between family and Sheridan's sassy singer.

In retrospect, 1947’s Nora Prentiss seems like a sign of things to come. As the title character and top billed star, Ann Sheridan somehow plays second fiddle to Kent Smith. Yes, the Kent Smith. The actor arrived at WB after WWII, and Smith quickly became typecast as the milquetoast male for the leading lady or the bad guy to walk all over. Smith was certainly a capable performer, and after he left WB, became a reliable character actor. Kent Smith just wasn't dynamic enough to become a top rank star. In fact, WB never really had a breakout male superstar after John Garfield. There were middling male stars like Ronald Reagan, Dane Clark, and Harry Guardino—or worse, Steve Cochran and David Brian! How ironic that mild-mannered Kent Smith's big starring role came at the expense of Ann Sheridan, who was about to walk out the WB door, like so many of her fellow stars, over money and scripts.

 Ann Sheridan on the set of 'Nora Prentiss' with co-star Kent Smith. Does he measure up?

Nora Prentiss is a sassy night club singer who is the catalyst for dull doctor Richard Talbot to leave his wife and family. The first half of the movie is a romantic triangle, with Talbot increasingly drawn to Nora, yet guilt-ridden for wanting to leave his family. Sheridan and Smith’s first scenes together, when Nora is tended to by the doc after a minor accident, showcase Ann’s snappy delivery. Sheridan later sings two numbers, sounding especially lovely on “Who Cares What People Say?”

Ann Sheridan is a more than capable chanteuse as 'Nora Prentiss.' 

Their romance is reaching dead end when an improbable opportunity presents itself. Talbot takes it, and from then on he hijacks the movie to the road of abject misery and absurd twists. The WB ads play up Nora as a femme fatale, which she isn't. None of the events are Nora's fault, and she tries to leave him several times, so he can salvage his life. I won't give away the major plot spoiler, but what happens to make the doctor’s new life possible is so ridiculous, even before the DNA era, is patently phony. Eventually, Talbot pays an extreme price.

Smith's respectable doctor goes on the skids in record time over Sheridan's nightclub chanteuse.

Aside from unbelievable, I found the last half of Nora Prentiss tiresome and depressing. The domestic drama was more real and heartfelt to me. The story seemed familiar, then I read a few comments on how similar Nora Prentiss was to Dreiser's Sister Carrie: A respectable businessman with a solid but dull life and dominating wife, throws it all away for a captivating small-time performer. Bingo! What's strange is that a film version, titled Carrie, was made five years later with Laurence Olivier—and Larry and Kent Smith bear more than a passing resemblance to each other—the basset hound eyes, set jaw line, and pencil mustache. However, unlike Olivier, Kent Smith's doctor declines in record time; it's like watching Dr. Jekyll turn into Mr. Hyde!

Laurence Olivier in 'Carrie.'

Kent Smith in 'Nora Prentiss.'

Nora Prentiss has a stellar supporting WB cast. Yet it is typical how up and coming WB actors got thrown into thankless roles. Just a couple years earlier, Robert Alda made his WB film debut as George Gershwin and he played several starring roles shortly after. Alda was a nasty night club owner in The Man I Love. Here in Nora Prentiss, he's a nice night club owner. It's very hard to believe that tall, dark, and handsome Alda, whose character owns a nightclub and wants to marry singer Nora, would seem like a no-brainer, right? Sheridan’s Nora laments to Smith’s married doctor at the movie’s beginning that she can’t meet a good guy, only bums…yet takes a pass on Alda’s Phil.

Bruce Bennett, who was relegated to one scene in Bette Davis' A Stolen Life in ’46, hadn't made much progress since playing Bert Pierce opposite Joan's title character the year before. In Nora Prentiss, he's Smith’s fellow partner, who's there to pick up the pieces and find clues. Like Kent Smith, Bennett was a rather dull actor, but he was solid enough and attractive, but is stuck in a totally nothing role. It seems like WB filled out the background characters with anybody on the lot who wasn't working!

Vincent Sherman took over the helm from Edmund Goulding and Irving Rapper as WB’s top director of women. Combine all the Bette and Joan movies Sherman helmed, he should have gotten, if not an Oscar, perhaps a Purple Heart! Sherman was a solid, smooth, if not groundbreaking director, and he keeps spinning this tale skillfully before you have enough time to think about it.

Director Vincent Sherman, a bit of a ladies man, seems to be enjoying the charismatic Ann Sheridan.

Film noir fans will probably enjoy Nora Prentiss most, as will Sheridan admirers. I just wished it was truly an Ann Sheridan film.

As for Ann Sheridan’s career, while she is well-liked, you don’t see classic film historians and fans fawning over her or trying to elevate Sheridan’s legacy, like certain other “underrated” actresses who have become overrated by revisionism. Ultimately, a star’s work is their legacy, and as Ann Sheridan tearfully sings as Nora Prentiss, who cares what people say?

Ann Sheridan is the song bird in the gilded hotel cage for the last half of 'Nora Prentiss!'