It all started with a friend’s recommendation to watch Will and Grace. The hit sitcom was released in 1998, when I was a few months shy of being four years old. I didn’t get many of the references, but one caught my attention.
Will was harshly handling his mother while she was on a wheelchair, and Karen said “Careful, Baby Jane.”
I searched for the reference online and found a 1962 black-and-white film whose screengrabs looked very disturbing.
Source: Letterboxd
I wasn’t in a place where I should be watching upsetting films. (We were just told that we should be working entirely from home, and I was having a hard time adjusting again to a life of seclusion in a tiny room amidst a bustling city.)
But I was intrigued enough.
And I did not regret my decision.
Baby Jane’s Descent Into Madness
The movie is an adaptation of Henry Farrell’s novel, which was published just two years before the film.
It starts off with a young Jane (Julie Allred) performing for an adoring crowd. She was a spoiled child star who went by the name Baby Jane Hudson, and she drinks up the success provided by an early fame while her sister Blanche (Gina Gillespie) watches enviously from the sidelines.
Years later, however, Blanche (Joan Crawford) earns a name for herself, one that will become more well-known than her sister’s. Her career flourishes while Baby Jane (Bette Davis) is slowly forgotten.
Blanche continued making successful films until one night, she was run over by her drunk sister and could no longer walk. She spends the majority of the film on her wheelchair under the reluctant care of an embittered, older Jane.
Jane resents her sister for having a better career and does the bare minimum to keep her alive.
Despite her flaws, I couldn’t help but feel bad for the titular character, especially because Davis has done a great job in playing her. During close shots, you can see not only the hate but also the pain in her eyes, mixed with a determination to take back what was once hers.
I’ve watched many old films before, but this was the first time that I stopped and thought “Now that’s an actress!”
Baby Jane didn’t have a normal childhood, exposed as she was to show business at a young age. Her father controlled her activities and was keen on making sure that the crowd believes she was this sweet, darling girl who could do no wrong. And having to lose the fame slowly—to her sister, no less—must have been hard to bear.
She spirals into alcoholism and lying.
While Blanche sits helplessly in an upstairs room, Jane tries to give her now-dead career a rebirth. This endeavor will prove deadly as she continues to believe in her sister’s contribution to her misery.
Jane stands beside an original Baby Jane Hudson doll, a souvenir from her days in the sun.
An Unnecessary Tragedy
Madness, murder, and mourning—this movie has it all.
The suspenseful parts gave it a touch of brilliance, one that I used to feel only when watching an Alfred Hitchcock film. Director Robert Aldrich did a wonderful job with this work, earning him nominations to the Palme d’Or and the DGA Award.
Throughout the film, Jane’s madness grows more intense. But while she is emotionally unstable, she remains calculating, a characteristic that made her more dangerous and the viewers more uneasy.
Slowly, Jane’s madness is cemented as she acts more and more like a helpless child. In an attempt to regain her early fame, she found herself in a series of unfortunate events that she justifies with that very endeavor.
During the last few minutes of the movie, while you’d think that everything is over, the film turns on its head.
A short disclosure makes viewers question the necessity of the struggles of each character and emphasizes the dangers of fame, especially the yearning that comes after its loss.
Conclusion
I wouldn’t recommend this movie if you’re struggling with depression. It will drag you deeper into the abyss. However, if you’re looking for a great psychological thriller that will pull at your heartstrings, this is worth checking out.
If you haven’t seen it yet, go ahead and rent it.
Afterwards, ask yourself this question: Who is the real villain in the story?
It's a Ping Thing 