Posted on

It’s fitting that Baby Jane has an oft-forgotten sister film – and it might be even crazier!

It’s fitting that Baby Jane has an oft-forgotten sister film – and it might be even crazier!

Photo credit: “Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte,” 20th Century Home Entertainment

Welcome back to our queer film retrospective “A Gay Old Time.” In this week’s column, we continue our month-long exploration of horror’s queer appeal with the 1964s Hush… Hush, sweet Charlotte.

This month, in the lead-up to Halloween, we took a deep dive into how various horror tropes are used to reflect the queer experience in film. However, this week isn’t so much about LGBTQ+ representation on screen, but rather a kind of film that still speaks to us, exploring a subgenre that revolves around the simple pleasure of watching older actresses overacting . In other words, gay catnip.

What ever happened to Baby Jane? occupies a special place in the lore of both classic Hollywood and queer cinema. Released at the end of the Golden Age of Cinema, it was a direct commentary on how the transition to a new style of filmmaking left its former stars behind.

At the center were Joan Crawford and Bette Davis, who each brought their own baggage to the roles and sparked a behind-the-scenes feud so infamous that it became an urban legend in its own right. The performances made this film a camp classic – completely exaggerated and yet full of pathos and seriousness.

In the years that followed, many films attempted to replicate this formula – with varying results – and in the process created an entirely new horror subgenre: hagsploitation, also known as “Psycho Biddy” flicks.

A witch for all seasons

Image source: Getty Images

This film genre – of it Baby Jane is its first and greatest representative – leading ladies of a certain age, mostly former icons of the screen (women like Crawford and Davis, Geraldine Page, Ruth Gordon, Shelley Winters, Shelley Long and Olivia de Havilland) and whose own fading star power is highlighted or commented on.

Mostly they focused on aging beauties who had become isolated from society, slowly losing their minds, or experiencing some sort of emotional breakdown. And although they were typically low-budget films with low production values, it allowed women to step into leading roles at a time in their lives when they would otherwise be ignored by the industry and left them with their performances make it big.

Hagsploitation really had its heyday in the 1960s and 1970s, although a handful of examples have emerged in recent years, with titles like Ma, Gretaor this year The front room. But back in the mail-Baby Jane Hollywood, studios and filmmakers wanted to capitalize on his success. Furthermore, they wanted to recreate the exact alchemy of that film and attempted to reunite its two leading actresses with those of 1964 Hush… Hush, sweet Charlotte.

The structure

Hush… Hush, sweet Charlotte tells the story of Charlotte Hollis (Bette Davis), a southern belle who, as a young girl, planned to run away with the husband of one of her friends. When her father found out, she forced the man to break up with her. Tormented and heartbroken, Charlotte killed and beheaded the man.

Now, almost 40 years later, Charlotte lives as an ostracized and delusional spinster under the care of her loyal servant Velma (Agnes Moorehead). When the sheriff informs her that the house is to be demolished, her cousin Miriam (Olivia de Havilland) arrives to take care of the matter, but she may have intentions behind it, as Charlotte is haunted by her past actions and slowly loses it Overview of reality.

The feud continues?

Photo credit: “Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte,” 20th Century Home Entertainment

The film was supposed to be a complete reunion of the Baby Jane Team. The film was also directed by Robert Aldrich and is based on the unpublished short story “What Ever Happened To Cousin Charlotte?” by Henry Farrell, who wrote it Baby Jane Novel. After the film’s success, Aldrich wanted to explore similar themes in a different setting and have the two actresses “swap roles,” with Crawford playing the deviant cousin of Davis’ helpless recluse.

The two were attached to the lead role and filming actually began when Crawford became ill. After she failed to recover (although some reports question whether she was ill at all), production had to be halted and the insurance company insisted that she be replaced or the film would be canceled. Therefore, Olivia de Havilland was cast in the supporting role instead.

The forgotten stepsister

Although the film is less focused and snappy than its predecessor, it still shines with its twisty Southern Gothic plot and central performances. Bette Davis has proven she can play both the tortured and the torturer, and Agnes Moorehead stands out as a well-meaning but tough hillbilly (she received an Oscar nomination for her performance).

Olivia de Havilland has more difficulty coming to terms with her character’s intentions, as she conveys the initial sweetness quite well but doesn’t make the mid-film twist as believable. You could see how someone like Crawford would make it shine.

The film was a moderate box office success and received seven Oscar nominations, although over time this became clear Sweet Charlotte did not have the same lasting cultural influence as his older sister. However, it has all the right elements that made it Baby Jane A camp classic: iconic women from the big screen giving their all – and more – as complex female characters, complete with long-winded monologues, wild accents and lots of blood and gore.

Why We Love Our Broads Broad

Photo credit: “Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte,” 20th Century Home Entertainment

Hush… Hush, sweet Charlotte gets to the heart of why we as a queer community continue to be drawn to strong and powerful women; They are outsiders, just like us. This genre of film reflects the way in which they are constantly underestimated, exploited or viewed as inferior both in front of and behind the camera.

But they don’t take it. They take center stage in every possible way and provide capital B Large Performances that demand attention and respect. They make it about themselves in a way we all wish we could. Sometimes murder is the only way to be taken seriously.

Sign up for Queerty newsletter to stay up to date on the hottest stories in LGBTQ+ entertainment, politics and culture.