That's a line that Susan Sarandon, as Bette Davis, told Joan Crawford (Jessica Lange) in the TV mini-series "Feud" where Davis has a rare compassionate moment towards her so-called rival. Indeed, in this movie, Joan is indeed, good. In fact, she's outstanding. "Feud" indicates that Joan was unhappy about the choice of Cliff Robertson for her leading man, having desperately wanted Brando. But even if she had to settle for second best, she did get the best, a future Oscar winner in his film debut giving a performance that along with Joan's makes this a magnificent film that can strike a cord in many heart's, not just the so-called female audience.
Like those colorful Ross Hunter soapy melodramas of the 1950's and 60's, this starts off on a plush, audience grabbing cord: the title song dramatically sung by Nat King Cole. It is heard throughout the film, and when (in "Feud"), Joan is sent the movie soundtrack album of "Autumn Leaves" by its director, Robert Aldrich, you hope and pray that it will be heard in the background, which it is. So 6 years before Aldrich directed Crawford and Davis in "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?", he had Crawford by herself in this psychological melodrama, a combination of soap opera and mental health expose which like "The Snake Pit" and "Three Faces of Eve" deals with the curing of a psychosis which threatens to destroy not only the character suffering from it, but the people surrounding them as well.
Just past 50 when this was made, Crawford was still very attractive: handsome, if not strikingly beautiful. Yet, she was brave enough to take on a role where an admittedly older woman falls in love with a much younger man, and unlike Jane Wyman in "All That Heaven Allows", doesn't get discouraged by friends (like ultra mod landlady Ruth Donnelly) but herself must face her own insecurities (which are many) to leave her lonely life behind and try to find some happiness. But as many people find out after it's too late, her soon to be husband has secrets which he himself does not want to face, and they are pretty horrific, showing a force of evil behind him guiding his steps to do things he wouldn't have done had these evil forces not gone after him.
With a striking figure in a bathing suit, Crawford really pours on the emotion as she deals, not only with the loneliness of her busy life as a free-lance typist for novelists, but the difference in her and Robertson's ages and later the mental illness he's not even aware of himself, at least on the surface. Vera Miles as an elegant ex-wife and Lorne Greene as his charming father are at the core of his problems, and yet, there's more to Robertson's issues than just a family betrayal. Donnelly steals every scene that she is in, and when she's off screen for long periods of time, you really miss her. 1956 was a big year in films, but Crawford and Robertson deliver two of that year's most magnificent performances. This is a satisfying drama in every way that even Bette Davis, had she seen it, must have left really seeing a talent in Joan that audiences for decades knew was there when given the right script but not always given the opportunity to play.
Like those colorful Ross Hunter soapy melodramas of the 1950's and 60's, this starts off on a plush, audience grabbing cord: the title song dramatically sung by Nat King Cole. It is heard throughout the film, and when (in "Feud"), Joan is sent the movie soundtrack album of "Autumn Leaves" by its director, Robert Aldrich, you hope and pray that it will be heard in the background, which it is. So 6 years before Aldrich directed Crawford and Davis in "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?", he had Crawford by herself in this psychological melodrama, a combination of soap opera and mental health expose which like "The Snake Pit" and "Three Faces of Eve" deals with the curing of a psychosis which threatens to destroy not only the character suffering from it, but the people surrounding them as well.
Just past 50 when this was made, Crawford was still very attractive: handsome, if not strikingly beautiful. Yet, she was brave enough to take on a role where an admittedly older woman falls in love with a much younger man, and unlike Jane Wyman in "All That Heaven Allows", doesn't get discouraged by friends (like ultra mod landlady Ruth Donnelly) but herself must face her own insecurities (which are many) to leave her lonely life behind and try to find some happiness. But as many people find out after it's too late, her soon to be husband has secrets which he himself does not want to face, and they are pretty horrific, showing a force of evil behind him guiding his steps to do things he wouldn't have done had these evil forces not gone after him.
With a striking figure in a bathing suit, Crawford really pours on the emotion as she deals, not only with the loneliness of her busy life as a free-lance typist for novelists, but the difference in her and Robertson's ages and later the mental illness he's not even aware of himself, at least on the surface. Vera Miles as an elegant ex-wife and Lorne Greene as his charming father are at the core of his problems, and yet, there's more to Robertson's issues than just a family betrayal. Donnelly steals every scene that she is in, and when she's off screen for long periods of time, you really miss her. 1956 was a big year in films, but Crawford and Robertson deliver two of that year's most magnificent performances. This is a satisfying drama in every way that even Bette Davis, had she seen it, must have left really seeing a talent in Joan that audiences for decades knew was there when given the right script but not always given the opportunity to play.