“That’s not very perceptive of you to minimize the courage that it takes to kill.”
“Why, it’s just nerve with a dash of cruelty.”
It pains me to include this film in a list of cinematic misfires because Geraldine Page, its mad mad mad mad star, gives one of the finest performances ever recorded on the silver screen. But this is no surprise to anyone who has seen her in…anything. Upon winning Best Actress in 1985, presenter F. Murray Abraham called her the “greatest actress in the English language”; her win for The Trip to Bountiful, besting Whoopi Goldberg’s brilliant debut in The Color Purple, was really a Lifetime Achievement Award and an apology for overlooking her the previous seven times she was nominated, surprisingly, shockingly, appallingly none of them for What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice?
Nor is What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice? a piece of Bad Cinema because of its co-star, Ruth Gordon, at the time the reigning Best Supporting Actress, winning in 1968 for Rosemary’s Baby. Gordon was enjoying an acting renaissance (she was nominated for a Tony in 1956 as the original Dolly Levi in The Matchmaker, the play that eventually became Hello, Dolly!), after spending a large portion of her earlier years in Hollywood as a writer (nominated for three Academy Awards, including the Hepburn/Tracy smash, Adam’s Rib). The teaming of the scenery chewing Gordon and Page, matched if not surpassed, the original duo of Bette Davis and Joan Crawford in the classic What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, a camp masterpiece of suspense. Page walks the line of sanity like a tightrope, imbuing the murderous Mrs. Marrable with sophistication and psychotic specificity, while Gordon gives us a 180 from her demonically charming, Oscar winning Minnie by painting Mrs. Demmick with a victimized brush of terror. The scenes between them are alive, pounding with energy like the most relentless of drums. Unfortunately, they only make up half of the film.
Claire Marrable (Page) has just lost her husband. But is she unconsolably weeping into the arms of a loved one? Of course not. She’s too busy rearranging the flowers next to his casket and practicing faces of melancholy in case anyone is near by. You see, she was in love with his money. And now that he is dead, she expects to collect.
All that changes when his lawyer (Bob Newhart’s favorite dentist, Peter Bonerz) tells her there are no assets, only liabilities. She is bequeathed the pitiful contents of his briefcase: a rusty dagger, a stamp collection, and his boyhood butterflies. What’s a girl to do? Get a job? Learn a trade? Make afghans for the craft fair like other old ladies do? Nah. Why bother when you can murder your housekeepers, bury them in the garden, and steal their money?
After the “disappearance” of her latest companion, Mrs. Tinsley (two time Oscar nominee and Broadway’s original “Big Mama,” Mildred Dunnock), Mrs. Marrable places an ad in the paper for a new victim, ughm, housekeeper. Within days, Mrs. Demmick (Gordon) has taken up residency to field her vitriolic barbs, apologize to the neighbors for her boss’s bullshit, and to do some snooping. Mrs. Demmick knows there is something rotten in the state of Marrable, but can she discover it before it is too late?
Clearly, this is enough drama to sustain an hour and forty-one minutes. Producer Robert Aldrich (The Dirty Dozen, Kiss Me Deadly) knew this when he directed …Baby Jane?, keeping the ancillary action of the neighbors and the housekeeper always related to Davis and Crawford. Why hire brilliant actresses like Page and Gordon, legendary actresses like Page and Gordon, only to cut away from them for some completely unnecessary romantic triangles between walking mannequins Rosemary Forsyth, Peter Brandon, Joan Huntington, and Robert Fuller, who play their neighbor, nephew, niece, and nephew, respectively. Any more explanation of their characters and “story lines” would be a waste of time, energy, and will power because, honestly, they matter less than what Mariah Carey has to say on American Idol.
But this should not deter you from checking out this cult mess-terpiece. Fast forward was invented for a reason! Make it a drinking game! Any time Geraldine Page looks ominous, take a shot. Any time Rosemary Forsyth tries to appear earnest, take a shot! This is a standing recommendation for any of the films that fly the Bad Cinema flag: they are always more enjoyable under the influence. It only makes sense. Some of this crap can only have been written drunk so why not enjoy it as it was originally envisioned?
What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice? is part three in the Robert Aldrich trilogy of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962) and Hush…Hush Sweet Charlotte (1964). Upon researching this film, I discovered What’s the Matter with Helen? (1971), a “sister” film starring Debbie Reynolds and Shelly Winters, which of course shot to the top of my Netflix queue. Will it be Baby Jane brilliant? Or Bad Cinema at its Best? Stay tuned in the coming weeks for my review.
Is What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice? a Car Crash, Colonoscopy, or Berkley? CAR CRASH
What about you? What are your thoughts on …Aunt Alice? and other entries in the “psycho-biddy” genre?
*Available on YouTube
SERVING UP SAIA. 