Review of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962) by Paul Z — 21 Oct 2008

When this twisted portrait of outlandish cruelty opens, six-year-old Baby Jane is a flourishing vaudeville star while her older sister, Blanche, lingers humbly in her shadow. She is resentful of Jane's success and the attention she gets from their father-manager but, in concern for their conflicted mother, she keeps her feelings suppressed. As the two become adults, however, Jane fades into anonymity while Blanche becomes a prominent film actress. At the pinnacle of her career, she is paralyzed in an automobile accident for which the alcoholic Jane is held to blame.

These two characters are played by lifelong nemeses Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. One could go on and say that it doesn't matter which one plays which character, but this is a tell- tale showcase of the distinguishable strong suits of both actresses. Davis plays Baby Jane, a more and more deranged has-been child star, a character that seems almost without inhibitions, just the sort of outlandish grand guignol for which an older Davis is perfect. Crawford plays an equally dramatic role, but one that requires more self-control and humility, neither of which Crawford supposedly had as a person but could somehow muster for the good of a part. Really this is a significant moment in both careers, as they managed to come together as bitter rivals for the sake of what would make a great film. Did they put their differences aside during shooting? No. Did it help? Oh yes!

As the years pass in the lives of these two terribly tragic characters, they become recluses in an old manor home, where Jane "cares for" Blanche. When she learns Blanche is planning to sell the house and maybe place her in a home, Jane holds her a captive and victimizes her with sadistic neglect and maltreatment. When Blanche tries to make contact with a neighbor, Jane foils the effort.

Really, there are several things Blanche could do to escape her situation, and though there are things she does to free or vindicate herself, she really does not do all she can, but despite this, Robert Aldrich's demented shocker is still unbearably intense and blood-boiling. He creates an insulated world the works as a chamber for the excruciating struggle between the two has-been stars. When we see their neighbor, played by Anna Lee, it is in some way an elation because juxtaposing her life only ten feet away is so normal and peaceful, which reminds us of how appalling and abnormal and extreme the life of these two fussy failures really is. At the film's end, we realize just how pivotal this effect really is.

As the companion piece for Aldrich's other grand guignol film with a masterfully over-the-top Davis, Hushâ?¦Hush, Sweet Charlotte, Baby Jane does not simply share the same spirit, style and shock value. Baby Jane actually takes different risks rather than the matching ones. During the harrowing exertion between unhinged sadism and long-anticipated vindication between two sisters, he will give us belly laughs conjured from a twisted sense of humor, as when Davis belts the song that her character as a child performs at the beginning of the film, sounding as if she hasn't sung since. She hires a fat and frustrated English pianist played by Victor Buono to accompany her in a comeback. He is clearly intended for screwball laughs as his chubby face reacts when she proves talentless, agreeing to stay on since he will be paid a commission.

Each time I see a film by Robert Aldrich, he is forging ahead of his time with Gothic, startling visual gimmicks and effects. He does not reach the degree of Otto Preminger and George Stevens, other directors of his era who challenged its convention, but with Kiss Me Deadly, Hush�Hush, Sweet Charlotte and What Ever Happened To Baby Jane? On one's resumé, you most certainly have talent and vision.