Faye Dunaway’s Joan Crawford biopic MOMMIE DEAREST is a torpedo that completely deep-sixed the Oscar winner’s hitherto exalted career and after which her status never recovered. The film is mocked as a stinker of high camp, a mean-spirited ridicule of Ms. Crawford and a star’s vanity project hitting wide of the mark.
Indeed, the film is ghastly to look with its brassy production design under its televisual lighting (the Crawford mansion is a holdover of Hollywood golden era’s studio construction, but without the usual treatment of a silver sheen, it is grossly unappealing), which presents a glitzy drabness that is the antithesis of one’s preconception of Hollywood glamour. Its script, based on Crawford’s adopted daughter Christina’s massively popular tell-it-all autobiography, implies in the ending that the book could be Christina’s ultimate tit-for-tat after being disinherited in her mother’s will.
It stands to reason that there is a faint but distinct ghost of vilification and willful exploitation behind the whole story, which goes for the jocular to expose child abuse and bad parenting, the imbalance between careerism and parenthood, a movie star’s imponderable hubris and her throat-cutting aggression against patriarchy. In retrospect, MOMMIE DEAREST never intends to be pretty and glamorous, but grotesque and tumultuous, baring all its bad blood, petty grievances and accumulated rancor, which audience promptly takes as a scandalous exposé trying to color Ms. Crawford as an abomination of a mother.
That is when factual relativism kicks in, the account from Christina may not be the whole truth but it panders to the public’s curiosity of espying a celebrity’s personal demerits behind the closed doors, of which both Ms. Dunaway and director Frank Perry decide to make a production. Taking the example of the notorious “wire hanger” scenes, in default of any explanation of Joan’s aversion to wire hangers (something could be linked to her childhood hardship as her mother worked in a laundry shop, they rumple up clothes), MOMMIE DEAREST is guilty as charged to intentionally conjure up a freaky, irrational, hysterical monster out of Ms. Crawford.
Graced by the undiminished spotlight, Dunaway proves, once again, to be a screen powerhouse that can grab audience by the throat with her sheer presence and if eyebrows can kill, hers must be the most lethal. Her emotional intensity is up to the eleventh in objectifying Joan’s delusion, frustration and fighting spirit. And when Joan takes it all on a young Christina (Hobel is a feisty cherub does a cracking job of feigning being disciplined, wounded and traumatized), it is a cogent corroboration that motherhood isn’t for every member of the fairer sex.
As the adult Christina, Scarwid braves herself stoutheartedly to stand up against a Dunaway going apeshit as the two go physical in front of a visiting journalist (Brando, the last time she graces the silver screen), a flimsy plot machination cannot be credible. But how Christina’s horrid childhood experiences have altered her mentality and what are the consequences? That is the thorny essence conspicuously left untapped in Perry’s over-sensationalized melodrama.
referential entries: Frank Perry’s THE SWIMMER (1968, 7.0/10); James L. Brooks’ TERMS OF ENDEARMENT (1983, 7.8/10); Sydney Pollack’s THREE DAYS OF THE CONDOR (1975, 6.7/10).

Title: Mommie Dearest
Year: 1981
Country: USA
Language: English
Genre: Biography, Drama
Director: Frank Perry
Screenwriters: Frank Yablans, Frank Perry, Tracy Hotchner, Robert Getchell
based on the book by Christina Crawford
Music: Henry Mancini
Cinematography: Paul Lohmann
Editor: Peter E. Berger
Cast:
Faye Dunaway
Diana Scarwid
Mara Hobel
Rutanya Alda
Steve Forrest
Howard Da Silva
Harry Goz
Michael Edwards
Jocelyn Brando
Priscilla Pointer
Xander Berkeley
Rating: 6.7/10
UltharF
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