Four successful elderly gentlemen, members of the Chowder Society, share a gruesome, 50-year old secret. When one of Edward Wanderley's twin sons dies in a bizarre accident, the group ... See full summary »
A decades old folk tale surrounding a deranged murderer killing those who celebrate Valentine's Day, turns out to be true to legend when a group defies the killer's order and people start turning up dead.
Charlotte Hollis, an aging recluse deluded into a state of dementia by horrible memories and hallucinations, lives in a secluded house where, thirty-seven years before, John Mayhew her married lover, was beheaded and mutilated by an unknown assailant. Written by
Until his death in April 1959, Joan Crawford had been married to Alfred Steele, the president of Pepsi-Cola. After his death she was elected to fill his spot on the Pepsi board of directors. While making this film Crawford had Pepsi-Cola vending machines installed on the set and during rehearsals, costume tests, filming in Baton Rouge and on Fox's soundstages she would sometimes have a bottle of Pepsi by her side or in her hand. In an effort to spite her co-star, Bette Davis had Coca-Cola vending machines installed as well and later when Crawford was replaced she also had a Cola-Cola truck barrel through town just before Miriam sees Jewel Mayhew on the street. See more »
When Charlotte becomes irate and chases the packers from the house, the camera follows them fleeing from room to room. For a split second, a shadow of the camera or dolly is visible on the near wall as it moves from right to left. See more »
"Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte" is after all is said and done really a rather sweetly sad movie. The lurid opening with it's bloody murder sequence is only a set-up and a tease: nothing remotely like it occurs for the remainder of the film. (By today's "Scream" standards, of course, this sequence is tepid.) The value of watching this movie, as many (maybe most) people will comment, is the dialog and the performances. Two of the supporting character performances are remarkable, for two entirely different reasons. Agnes Morehead was roundly praised in 1964 for her performance in this movie, and even got an Academy Award nomination. It was, however, a completely misguided conceptualization that comes across as a racist "Amos and Andy" burlesque sketch. The other performance is by Mary Astor as Jewel Mayhew. This was Mary Astor's last performance in a movie, and in her big scene with the actor Cecil Kellaway she is Oscar-worthy. With over-the-top performances in no short supply in this picture, it is understandable that Astor's marvel of delicacy and restraint hardly ever gets a mention.
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