I've Written a Letter to Mommie

April 1, 2015

Dearest Miss Crawford Ms. Dunaway,

I've never really sent one of these before and although I do follow you on twitter  (by the way, no tweets since August? Come back to us, Faye...) I felt that an old-fashioned fan letter (I've also enclosed a self-addressed stamped envelope so you can send an autographed headshot) is just the sort of gesture reminiscence of Classic Hollywood that you would appreciate. Or maybe I'm just equating you too much with another star that you have become almost synonymous with ever since you sunk your deliciously sharpened talons into her. I'm of course referring to your infamous role as Oscar winner Joan Crawford in 1981's Mommie Dearest. You disappear so completely into the role, that it is hard to remember where she ends and you as an actress begin. And although I feel that you're more inclined to believe your work in such films as Bonnie and Clyde, Chinatown, and Network are more deserving of accolades (and you're amazing in those as well), there's just something about your performance as Miss Crawford that is truly something to behold.

To say that it was not appreciated for what it was at the time it was released is an understatement. Winning the Razzie for Worst Actress of the year and receiving reviews like this one in Variety, "Dunaway does not chew scenery. Dunaway starts neatly at each corner of the set in every scene and swallows it whole, costars and all." couldn't have helped your ego. And I've heard that you were crushed after the film's reception turned you into an instant camp classic, honestly believing that you would receive your 4th Oscar nomination for your performance. I bring all this up not to make you feel bad, but to assure that they were all fools! You were right - you should've been nominated for an Oscar for this. (Easily over Katharine Hepburn's much more embarrassing performance in On Golden Pond.) And I've heard that you've said that you wish director Frank Perry had had the foresight to reign you in more. I think I speak for all of us when I thank him for not interfering and allowing you to go as crazy-committed as you did. Cinema needs more of what you were doing as Crawford. Would you deny us this face:

I think the two scenes that immediately come to mind when people think of your work in the film are two of the most quoted and imitated (certainly by decades of drag queens), but imitation is the sincerest form of flattery they say - and for good reason. The first, after being dropped from Warner Bros for being box office poison and taking it out on the defenseless rose bushes, all while decked out in sequins and chiffon ("Tiiiiinnnnaaaa!!! Bring. Me. The. AXE!!!"). It's the first time that we actually become afraid of what Joan is capable of. When she bellows for that weapon, there's real fear that she's not gonna stop using it once the branches have been taken down. There's an electricity in the unknown, just where you'll go with Joan's meltdown. But it's all just a warm-up for the mother of all breakdowns. I dare anyone that sees a wire hanger not to shout that line that you made infamous. The ferocity and stamina you have in sustaining that scene - from the first glimpse at the hanger in question to the physically violent wrestling match on the bathroom floor covered in Ajax - is epic. It's exhausted just watching you throw yourself so fully into it. It's particularly awe-inspiring to see an actress relinquish all thoughts of vanity and care to create such a monstrous, monumental creation. It is truly the stuff of legends.

But if I'm picking a single best shot from the film - which, incidentally, I actually am. Since my friend Nathaniel from the blog The Film Experience (Faye, as a celebrated actress you owe it to yourself to read the site) has tasked us with that very assignment. In other words, Hit Me With Your Best Shot. (And I don't mean what you throw across Christina's petulant face...) It happens far earlier than either of those previously mentioned scenes, before Joan even becomes a mother. (Which I think we all can agree was one of her worst ideas.) It touches on what makes a legend and shows that stars, like the kind Joan Crawford was and you still are, Miss Dunaway, are most decidedly not like us. And that's why we love them.

After we begin the film with Joan's extensive and masochistic beauty regimen and then see her obsession with making her home spotless (move the damn plant when you mop!), naturally the best place for her to seduce a man is in a three-headed, pristine, pink shower while still fully made up in complete hair and make-up. This is how a star showers. It just makes total sense that this is what Joan would find sexy because it's a perfect marriage of all that she lives for and aspires to: Glamour and cleanliness. After all, cleanliness is next to godliness. And Miss Dunaway as Joan Crawford, you are certainly a goddess. 

Joan Crawford was quoted as saying you were the only actress at the time that had what it took to be a real star. And it's been said that you felt that the spirit of Joan Crawford possessed you while filming. It seems that both of you had a mutual admiration and understanding of the other.  Which is apparent in this performance. So I just want to thank you for your work in Mommie Dearest because I am one of your fans. 

                                                                                All my very best,  

The People in the Pictures

Way back in the Summer of 1997, Will Smith was showing he was King of the summer Blockbuster with the first Men in Black, America was suddenly smitten with a mop-headed trio of brothers who MMMbopped their way into our hearts, and AFI did their first-ever television special: 100 Years, 100 Films. I was so excited that amid the usually brainless movie period of the summer, people were actually talking about real films. I was still in my early teens and though I had heard of most of the films they were talking about, had not seen them all. Being the list-obsessed, movie-lover that I am, I decided that it was paramount that I see all 100 films. I used to rent about 5 videos (!) at a time from Blockbuster (remember that place?) and watch them down in my basement. I was my own film education seminar.

One of the films on that list (#27) was the 1967 classic Bonnie and Clyde, which is the subject of this week's Hit Me With Your Best Shot Series at The Film Experience. I can remember watching it in my basement all those years ago, but I couldn't really recall it in its entirety. Sure, I remember the famous scene at the end when the two are gunned down in a rain of bullets–twitching and bloody. That was the whole reason for the success of the film. It was groundbreaking in its depiction of violence (it seemed fitting that I re-watched it yesterday on the birthday of Quinten Tarantino. A man who revolutionized cinematic violence for a new generation). But, no other images really stood out in my memory. So, I felt as if I was watching it with fresh eyes and waited to see if something else would strike a chord.

I was immediately struck by the opening credits sequence. A series of Depression Era photographs flash onto the screen with no sound other than the clicking of a camera (meant to reference the quick-fire sounds of a gun?) and the title cards of the stars' names as the text change from the color of a yellowed photograph to blood red. Those images set the tone for the film and wordlessly establish a time and place. Even before we've encountered our doomed lovers, we can already see why they would take to a life of crime. Life was hell and you had to do what you had to get by.

As those images give way to the close-up shot of Faye Dunaway's painted mouth, we are taken from the grim reality of those photos and into the glossy world of the film–a place where sex and violence commingle to create a notoriety that will elevate Bonnie and Clyde from the fate of the people in the pictures. No death of starvation and poverty for them, but to end in a blaze of glory.

And speaking of blazes, those early scenes with Faye Dunaway and Warren Beatty have a cracking sexuality that was making my screen steam up. They're both so young and dewy. They kept looking at each other as hungrily as the camera is them. At one point as they're getting to know each other, they share some bottles of Coke together. The way Dunaway had her lips on that bottle...it's a good thing the Hays Code was no longer utilized. I read that at some point Beatty's real-life sister, Shirley MacLaine was being considered for the part of Bonnie. That would have been awkward. It's no wonder Clyde takes to shooting and bank robbing when we learn he's unable to perform with Bonnie. All that foreplay build-up has got to find some kind of release.

So, the duo set out together as outlaws in a series of vignettes that don't entirely flow together into a cohesive storyline. They pick up a slow mechanic named CW that has one of those faces that doesn't age, mainly because he looks like an old man already even in his 20s. They are joined by Clyde's brother (Gene Hackman!) and his wife played by Estelle Parsons in an Academy Award-winning role (her?). Her performance and voice are so shrill and grating, I'm gonna have nightmares whenever I remember it. At one point Gene Wilder is taken hostage as well. It's all just a series of unfortunate events that lead up to inevitable massacre. Which, even by today's standards is pretty intense.

But, what I kept coming back to was those photographs at the beginning of the movie. The camera plays a huge part in the film and really of building the legend of Bonnie and Clyde. The camera, no longer an expensive luxury where you had to go to a studio to have your picture taken, was now apart of everyday life in the 30s. And with that came the power to make yourself a celebrity. In fact, the reason Bonnie and Clyde became the legends that they are is because of a series of photographs that the media published (recreated as a scene in the movie), in which Bonnie poses with a cigar in her mouth and a gun in her hand. The iconic image of the gun-toting moll and her lover gave off an element of danger and sex appeal. And what sells a story more?

As great as those images are though, the shots that stuck with me– and the ones I ultimately decided on– are those that recreate the grittiness in the photographs at the beginning of the opening credits. Bonnie and Clyde have been sleeping in an abandoned house that has been seized by the bank after foreclosure. The previous owners discover the two as they have shooting practice with his now-gone property. The man tells Clyde this used to be his home. Bonnie and Clyde look out at where his family is to see this:

They're such composed shots that really capture how down-trodden people were in the Depression. That image of the mother and child reminds me so much of Dorothea Lange's famous image from that era that you know the filmmakers used it as a reference. It's a fleeting, but haunting image. And with this scene we're able to see the humanity of Bonnie and Clyde. How do you root for people when they rob and kill? But the looks on the outlaws' faces after they see what their fate could be says it all–they're doing it for them. To give the put-upon something to believe in.

The Hit of All of Europe and Cannes

Twitter is officially the new place to debut a still from your new movie. Just days after Jerry Bruckheimer tweeted a pic from the set of the upcoming, big-budget blockbuster, The Lone Ranger, Best Actress Oscar winner (but, please don't mention Mommie Dearest), Faye Dunaway, tweeted this picture from the set of her feature film directing debut–the film version of Terrence McNally's play Master Class. She also stars in the film as opera diva, Maria Callas.

You haven't mentioned the Johnny Depp picture. Which I was brilliant in.

The play focuses on the legendary singer as she preformed master classes at Juilliard in the 70s and flashes back to when the opera star was with oil tycoon (and future Jackie O husband), Aristotle Onassis. The play debuted on Broadway in the fall of 1995 and won Tonys for Best Play, Best Actress in a Play (Zoe Caldwell), and Best Featured Actress in a Play (Audra McDonald). Faye did the National Tour of the production in 1996 and bought the film rights over a decade ago. Judging from the looks of that pic, it looks like the movie was filmed back in the 90s as well. 

I had no idea this was even happening. And after seeing the recent Broadway revival this summer with Tyne Daly, I'm not so sure it's necessary. The play is essentially a one-woman monologue as Maria Callas berates 3 students and tells tales of her glory days (complete with outlandish impressions of Onassis!). It's just so theatrical. I don't really see how it would work as a movie. And that picture isn't exactly inspiring confidence in Faye's ability as a director. This is the shot you choose to get people excited about your film? What's even going on? It looks like a staged shot from a community theatre production. 

Faye's been in the news in recent years for starting a feud with Hilary Duff and being evicted from her bug-infested New York apartment, so it's good to see her acting in something of value again. Faye really is a living legend. Even though things haven't been so great for her over the past few years decades, her body of work (Bonnie and Clyde, Chinatown, Network, and, yes, even Mommie Dearest) has already stood the test of time. She's brilliant in them. And if you don't believe me, just have her tell you herself. This is perhaps her greatest performance: