QUEEN BEE is a handsome showcase for the JOAN CRAWFORD brand of acting. She's the Southern Gothic matriarch of an uneasy household and the other characters are all foils for Joan's dominating Queen Bee.
There's the sweetly naive girl from the North (LUCY MARLOW); Crawford's bitter husband, a scarred BARRY SULLIVAN; and BETSY PALMER as the most normal of the group, clearly disliking Eva (Crawford) and her controlling ways; and JOHN IRELAND as the all knowing ex-husband.
Crawford is at her royal best, giving lines like "I'd rather you didn't talk to me in that manner," the haughty air of a woman who just ascended from her throne. She looks well, except for the eyebrows that are thicker than Boris Karloff's. "I like people around me to laugh and be gay," she tells the naive Northerner guest. We all know something dire will happen sooner or later.
Joan has some terrible dialog to spout. "It makes me terribly cross when people oppose me," she tells Marlow. "If you left, I'd never have anyone to call my own." Naturally, it's tailor-made material for Crawford who holds the spotlight without any difficulty, although Betsy Palmer and Barry Sullivan do nicely in supporting roles.
It's a well mounted production, filmed crisply in glorious B&W photography and the interiors of Joan's mansion are only slightly less imposing than Manderlay in REBECCA.
But it never becomes much more than high camp, with Crawford strutting her stuff as only she can--and the others performing capably enough but never having a chance to really shine.
Summing up: Ideal viewing for Crawford's legion of fans who probably will enjoy seeing her in a series of Jean Louis gowns, impeccably poised as she delivers some sweetly sarcastic lines. Her clothes even got an Oscar nomination, as did the B&W photography.
Trivia note: Joan's best line: "A party is to women, what a battlefield is to men."
There's the sweetly naive girl from the North (LUCY MARLOW); Crawford's bitter husband, a scarred BARRY SULLIVAN; and BETSY PALMER as the most normal of the group, clearly disliking Eva (Crawford) and her controlling ways; and JOHN IRELAND as the all knowing ex-husband.
Crawford is at her royal best, giving lines like "I'd rather you didn't talk to me in that manner," the haughty air of a woman who just ascended from her throne. She looks well, except for the eyebrows that are thicker than Boris Karloff's. "I like people around me to laugh and be gay," she tells the naive Northerner guest. We all know something dire will happen sooner or later.
Joan has some terrible dialog to spout. "It makes me terribly cross when people oppose me," she tells Marlow. "If you left, I'd never have anyone to call my own." Naturally, it's tailor-made material for Crawford who holds the spotlight without any difficulty, although Betsy Palmer and Barry Sullivan do nicely in supporting roles.
It's a well mounted production, filmed crisply in glorious B&W photography and the interiors of Joan's mansion are only slightly less imposing than Manderlay in REBECCA.
But it never becomes much more than high camp, with Crawford strutting her stuff as only she can--and the others performing capably enough but never having a chance to really shine.
Summing up: Ideal viewing for Crawford's legion of fans who probably will enjoy seeing her in a series of Jean Louis gowns, impeccably poised as she delivers some sweetly sarcastic lines. Her clothes even got an Oscar nomination, as did the B&W photography.
Trivia note: Joan's best line: "A party is to women, what a battlefield is to men."