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Authors: Shaun Considine

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"It was the most terrible scream I have ever heard," said Bob Gary. " 'My back! Oh, God! My back!' she screamed as Joan got to her feet and strolled contentedly back to her dressing room."

 

 

 

"AND STILL NO FEUD"
"With one more week to go on
the filming of
Whatever
Happened to Baby Jane?,
the
film is on schedule and there is
still no feud between the stars.
Bette feeds her lines off-camera
to Joan for her close-ups,"

—A PRESS RELEASE FROM
WARNER BROTHERS

"Tomorrow we're going to do
that goddamn beach scene, my
big scene, but just watch. She'll
find a way to steal it. She
always does. When you play
crazy ladies you always walk
away with the honors."

—JOAN CRAWFORD TO
WRITER ROY NEWQUIST

The final sequence of the movie took place on the beach, where Baby Jane brings her crippled and battered sister to die. According to Bette's memoirs,
This' n That,
the filming at the beach was canceled, because Joan was drinking heavily and could not stand the heat of the outdoor sun. "Alcohol in the body makes one perspire freely," said Bette.

 

"Joan wasn't drinking at the beach," said Adelle Aldrich, confirming that the shots were done outdoors.

 

"We worked three days at Yuma Beach," said Peggy Shannon.

 

"It was two days, near Paradise Cove," Bob Gary believed.

 

"All I remember is that it was hot," said Phil Stern, "and Bob Aldrich had a hell of a time trying to keep the dolly tracks on the sand."

 

According to the production logs, Bette stayed at a motel in Trancas, while Joan commuted by limo. Both stars were accompanied by their daughters, Bette with B.D., Joan with her daughters Cindy and Cathy. But again no socializing was allowed between the girls. Joan's daughters, clad in long shirtwaist dresses, strolled on the beach a respectable distance from the filming, while fifteen-year-old B.D. stayed near the action, wearing a white two-piece bikini to perpetuate her tan and titillate the young males on the crew (who stripped down on their lunch break and cooled off in the ocean).

 

The sequence where Baby Jane, totally unhinged, sits on the beach making sand castles while her sister lies dying beside her was vital for the plot, and for Crawford. This was her big acting scene. It ran for four pages. Lying in the sand, emaciated and near death, Joan was to look up at Bette and confess that it was she who had caused the long-ago accident that crippled her legs and drove her sister half mad with guilt. "You mean, after all this time, we could have been friends?" was Bette's one-line reaction. The rest of the time she was supposed to shut up and listen to Joan.

 

For days, Joan was sure that Bette would do something to steal the scene. "Oh, she'll roll her eyes, or blow her nose. She'll think of something to bring the attention to her," said Crawford.

 

But during the first take of the scene, Bette was a pro. She made no effort to upstage her costar. With parched lips and wide eyes, Joan gave a flawless delivery of the lengthy dialogue. When it was over, Bob Aldrich clapped his hands and yelled, "Wonderful!" Ignoring Joan, Bette turned to the director and said, "Thank
you,
Bob."

 

''It was a tough scene to shoot, because Aldrich wanted different camera angles," said Bob Gary. ''It was also harder on Joan than on Bette. Bette could get up and move about, but Joan had to lie there in the hot sun. Bette was also wearing white, while Joan wore a long dark robe, which absorbed the heat."

 

"They had two guys standing over her, holding these huge scrims to shield her from the sun," said Hector Arce, "but the alcohol in her system was dehydrating Joan."

 

''As soon as Bob Aldrich yelled 'Cut,''' said Bob Gary, "Joan would get up from the sand and get into her limo, which took her to her dressing room, parked a hundred yards away."

 

In one setup, when Joan came back from her trailer and resumed her prone position on the beach, Bob Aldrich turned to script supervisor Gary and said, "Bob, do you think she's getting younger?"

 

''It was a subtle change," said Gary. "Every time Joan went to her trailer, Aldrich suspected she was making herself more glamorous. She was supposed to be dying, but when it came right down to it, Joan had been such a glamour queen all her life that it was hard for her to look bad. She kept taking off her dying makeup, bit by bit, adding softer makeup."

 

Bette Davis told of another Crawford metamorphosis. Dying on the beach, Joan decided to wear her largest falsies. "Let's face it," said Bette, "when a woman lies on her back, I don't care how well endowed she is, her bosoms do not stand straight up. And Blanche was supposedly wasted away after twenty years. The scene called for me to fall on top of her. I had the breath almost knocked out of me. It was like falling on two footballs!"

 

 

 

"In the very last shot of
Whatever Happened to Baby
Jane?,
Bette Davis goes off to
buy an ice cream cone for her
sister. Almost magically, the
grotesque makeup and wrinkles
disappear from her face as she
does a dance of liberation."

—ClNÉMAFANTASTIQUE
MAGAZINE

Although the battle of the Hudson sisters was settled with Blanche's dying confession, the combat between Bette and Joan continued straight through and beyond the filming. In her determination to compete with the expiring, glamorous Joan, there was considerable speculation that Bette added some cosmetic improvements to her appearance for the famous waltz-of-liberation scene that ended the movie.

 

"This may be spurious," said Bob Gary, "but Bob Aldrich believed that, when Bette saw what Joan Crawford was doing, she decided to pretty herself up a little for the final shots in the picture."

 

On the last day at the beach, Bette went to lunch and was unusually late in returning. "What Bob Aldrich suspected was that Bette went to her motel and had her own makeup man, Gene Hibbs, drive over from the Valley. He was a master at those instant face-lifts, of using tapes and hair clips to pull back the loose facial skin. He worked on her face in the motel. There was no way she was going to let the movie end with Crawford looking better than she."

 

On the beach. Bette listens as Joan prepares to die as serenely as possible

 

Returning two hours later, Bette told Aldrich she had been in a car crash. "She told this long, involved story that she had to bring B.D. to the hospital," said Bob Gary.

 

"But we
were
in a car crash," B.D. said in 1988. "Mother was a very nervous driver. She was always crashing into people on the highway. Gene Hibbs may have been at the motel, but I never saw him. And I was there for most of the filming."

 

The beautification of Bette in the final scene was "a photographic phenomenon," said Crawford's makeup artist, Monte Westmore. "When Bette came back late, the sun had shifted to the west, over the ocean. In order to balance out the light on Bette, who had her back to the beach, the cameraman brought in an arc, facing her. The key light was so intense it burned out every wrinkle on her face and made her look like a little girl again."

 

Baloney! said Bette, refusing to share any artistic credit. Her transformation had nothing to do with the cosmetic or technical expertise of
others;
it was
her
genius, her acting talent. Script girl Adelle Aldrich agreed. "I was at the beach, playing cards with Bette, and twenty minutes before the scene was shot she asked for some time by herself. She walked down the beach alone, and when she came back there was this glow on her face. It was the most amazing thing I've ever seen. It came from within her and reflected on her face."

 

Bette's genius also reflected on Joan Crawford's ego. After watching the rushes the following day, the star called Bob Aldrich to her dressing room. She told him the final shots in the picture didn't match. It was apparent that Bette's lighting was better than hers, and she insisted that her big dying scene be redone.

 

"My dad had to agree with Crawford," said Bill Aldrich. "The lighting for her last scene wasn't good enough. But we couldn't bring sixty people back to the beach."

 

"So a set
had
to be built at the studio and
tons
of sand brought in," said Bette Davis.

 

"The retakes added sixty thousand dollars more to the budget," said Bill Aldrich. "And for that the studio took away some of my dad's profit points. But he felt it had to be done. If that scene didn't work, the entire picture didn't work."

 

On Wednesday, September 12, 1962, after thirty-six days of shooting,
Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?
was finished. The total cost was $980,000. On Friday evening the traditional wrap party was held on the soundstage at Melrose Avenue.

 

"I don't remember seeing Miss Crawford there," said Joe Eula.

 

"As far as I know, Joan had already returned to New York, to do something for Pepsi," said Peggy Shannon.

 

"Joan was smart," said a cast member. "She knew that, when the picture was finished, Bette would be lying in ambush for her. At the party, with a few drinks, Bette might attack. So Joan skipped the proceedings."

 

Actress Ann Barton, who played the mother of Jane and Blanche Hudson, recalled Bette coming over to her table during the evening. "In her definite intonations she said, 'You know, Blanche resembles your side of the family.' There was no great love between Bette and Joan, we all knew that. And Bette's last words to us were: 'That
woman.
That
woman
should be here tonight. That
woman
should not have gone to New York. That
woman
owes it to Bob Aldrich to be here tonight!' She took a deep drag on her cigarette and regally moved on, murmuring, 'That
Woman
... That
Woman....' "

 

"She was mouthing at Crawford all the way through the party," said Joe Eula. "'Look at that,' she'd say, 'the bitch didn't even show up.
That's
professional?' We all thought she'd be happy that the movie was over and she wouldn't have to look at Joan again. But no. It seemed that Miss Davis wasn't quite through with Miss Crawford. There was still some unfinished business to attend to."

 

The Selling of
Baby Jane

"Maybe they should put us in
cages when they promote the
picture."

—JOAN CRAWFORD

"If Bette Davis and Joan
Crawford come to blows during
the promotion of their film
Whatever Happened to Baby
Jane?,
it is now possible to make
book on the probable winner.
Bette Davis. Each of these movie
queens has a good right cross
and left hook, and both are
formidable in-fighters. But Bette
Davis is the more aggressive.
She can take out an opponent
with one punch."

—BROOKS ATKINSON,
THE NEW YORK TIMES,
SEPTEMBER 18, 1962

When filming was completed, Bob Aldrich was asked by Warner's to do a very fast edit of the picture. The studio had signed a deal with the Theater Owners of America. A new exhibition concept was about to go into effect.
Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?
was chosen as the first movie to inaugurate the new "Showcase Premiere" policy. Instead of booking the film in first-run city theaters, Warner's would open it in four hundred neighborhood theaters throughout the country. To meet the November date, the film had to be edited and scored in thirty days.

 

"It was a tough schedule," said editor Michael Luciano, "but we met it, because the stuff Bob shot was all good. He was a rare talent and a gentleman. The man could direct anything."

 

On October 20 the first preview was held in Long Beach, California. The audience, enticed by a movie ad that read, "A new thriller—starring Bette Davis and Joan Crawford," relished the film, applauding five scenes. Some young patrons wanted to sit through a second showing. "They're going to have a hard time hiding the profits from this one," said Bob Aldrich.

 

Bette and Joan with director Robert Altman in New York.

 

The following Monday the producer-director flew to New York to show the picture to the Warner's East Coast executive and publicity staff. Again the reaction was positive. That Thursday evening Aldrich attended a press party at the "21" Club, with his stars, Bette Davis and Joan Crawford.

 

Bette, accompanied by her secretary and daughter B.D., was dressed in pearls and a dark-blue satin evening coat. Joan, with four male escorts, wore a full-length mink, rubies, an aqua turban, and an aqua cocktail dress.

 

By careful design, the Warner's press officer placed the stars at opposite ends of a long table. 'At one point, Crawford was getting all the attention," said a reporter, "so Davis climbed atop a table and bawled: 'Everybody down here.'" Crawford, according to Davis' daughter, then "gave a haughty wave of her hand towards Mother and called 'Hello darling Bette. Bless You.' Mother leaped out of her seat, thrust forth her arms as though to embrace the multitude and emoted: 'Jesus! Look at that broad! The turban matches the blouse which matches the jacket which matches the skirt which matches the shoes and gloves. Shit!' She threw back her head and gave vent to a wild cackle, slapped her thighs and finished, 'Can you believe her? She looks like she just came from a fire sale in Macy's basement!'"

 

On Friday evening, October 23, 1962, a special invitational preview of
Baby Jane
was held at the RKO Eighty-sixth Street theater on Manhattan's Upper East Side. Jack Warner attended with producers Elliott Hyman and Ray Stark. Joan Crawford showed up with a contingent of Pepsi executives and their children. Bette Davis was missing.

 

"This was the official preview for the press," said Crawford, "so naturally I was apprehensive."

 

"For months, the word in the industry was that Bette and Joan had thrown what was left of their careers down the toilet by doing this B movie," said a New York critic. "No one expected it to be any good."

 

"The preview was a smash," said Crawford. "It took me thirty minutes to get through the lobby to reach my car."

 

On November 3, Election Day, the film opened nationally. The major reviews were glowing and spicy.

 

"A brilliant tour-de-force of acting and filmmaking," said
Time.

 

''A superb showcase for the time-ripened talents of two of Hollywood's most accomplished actresses," said
The Saturday Review.
"Scenes that in lesser hands would verge on the ludicrous simply crackle with tension."

 

"Fine, horrific fun.... Take it straight, and you'll recoil from a murderous duel of snarls, shrieks, moans and rattle snake repartee by Bette Davis and Joan Crawford," said the New York
Times.

 

Some of the critics took sides, praising Bette while panning Joan, and vice versa.

 

''As an ugly old hag, Bette Davis, with her ghastly layers of makeup and her shuffling-clump walk, is rather appealing. And Joan Crawford is—oh, just Joan Crawford," said
Newsweek.

 

"Miss Davis, with the mind of an infant has something of the force of a hurricane. Miss Crawford could be described as the eye of that hurricane, abnormally quiet, perhaps, but ominous and desperate," said the New York
Telegraph and Sun.

 

"Crawford wisely underplays with Davis," said
Variety.
"In one superb bit, she reacts to herself on television, making her face glow with the remembrance of fame past.... A genuine heartbreaker."

 

"Joan is such a sweetly smiling fraud. Such an artless helpless ninny, that one feels virtually nothing for her. No wonder her crazy sister finds her a deadly bore," said
The Nation.

 

"My absolutely
favorite
notice came from
The New Yorker,"
said Bette. "They had this cartoon of two women standing under a marquee of the theater. 'I like Bette Davis,' said one woman, 'and I like Joan Crawford. But I don't think I'd like Bette Davis and Joan Crawford
together.'"

 

 

 

"Sure, she stole some of my big
scenes, but the funny thing is,
when I see the movie again, she
stole them because she looked like
a parody of herself and I still
looked like something of a star."

—JOAN CRAWFORD

It had been announced that Crawford and Davis would make a cross-country tour of theaters showing the film, but a week before the tour Crawford canceled, without apology or explanation. "She was afraid to share the stage with me," said Bette, who also attempted to drop out midway through the tour.

 

"Somewhere along the way Davis got upset," said Bill Aldrich. "She said she was walking out and coming home. My dad had to get on a plane and go to her."

 

"Mother was having one of her usual star tantrums," said B.D. Hyman, who joined Bette onstage at theaters in New York.

 

"We had
terrific
fun," said Bette. "I sang my song and gave out dolls to people in the audience. Sometimes a fan would shout out, 'Where's your sister? Where is Joan
Crawford?'
And I would answer, 'She's
dead!
On the beach at Malibu.' And everybody laughed and laughed."

 

Appearing on Jack Paar's TV show, Bette told the story of how Jack Warner had initially turned down the movie, refusing "to put up one nickel for us two old broads." The following morning, at her hotel, Bette received a telegram. It read, "Dear Miss Davis, Please do not continue to refer to me as an old broad. Sincerely, Joan Crawford."

 

"Oh, for chrissake!" said Bette. "I was only referring to what the moneymen said."

 
BOOK: Bette and Joan The Divine Feud
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