The power of Mildred Pierce is that it makes a common trope or type or just one of those things that people associate the Film-Noir picture with - the "Femme Fatale" dame who ruins things for the man, usually leading in death - is given the personal treatment; "every girl's got a mother," says even the co-'headliner' at the small club that daughter Veda is singing at after being kicked out of her house by her mother of the title, and this is about, I suppose one could say, that character's mother as the protagonist. I don't suppose one could've made the film from the man's point of view, as this isn't the sort of story like Double Indemnity where we can at least kind-of-sort-of relate to slick Fred MacMurray getting in over his head; Zachary Scott's Monte is a scoundrel, and in a way is not the 'Average Joe', but the kind of rich pile of crap that, sadly, women sometimes aspire to have - and maybe the same man throws interest as well.So we have the story as told from the point of view of Mildred Pierce. Not unlike Double Indemnity again, we get this told in flashback from the setting of a confessional (the Dictaphone made for something more interesting than simply telling the doubting cops, but that works just as well), and how Mildred climbed up the ladder from being an average, struggling, separated house-wife with two kids and made something of herself. I have to wonder if this story, albeit from James M Cain's book written four years prior to 1945, could've been made before the war or much soon after. This reflected a brief period of time when, as the men were off to war, women had to pick themselves up and work and find independence, possibly for the first time in their lives.There's no hint of the war here, and that makes it not as dated (though of course the attitudes towards what a man feels he can take as his own reflect something that is... well, it maybe hasn't changed *that* much in a way, see Jack Carson's Wally as he can't seem to help but grab at Mildred not too soon after she and her husband first separated, as if he had some tic-tacs just at the ready, but I digress). Actually I have to think one of the appealed to Warner and Crawford and Curtiz is that it gets to have multiple cakes and eat it: it's a story of a woman finding the sort of independence that men take for granted (or, for a long time, remember it's not too long in modern times women could even *own* property of their own or have their own bank accounts, not even allow or look down upon), while at the same time Veda is one of the snottiest bitches in the history of that period of film. Or any period. It's a feminist film where we get to see the harshest drama take place between a mother and daughter where it lets the audience (sort of) decide what's what.Is it right to use the 'B' word here? I'm not sure 'Brat' would suffice; one might try to psychoanalyze further and say that Veda has deeper issues, perhaps relating to the break-up of her parent's marriage (though I'm not sure that's any kind of trigger, she was this way before), or that there is in some people this long, cavernous crater in their souls where nothing but cold, hard cash fills it... and it never truly fills it, anyway. But when I say about the audience deciding what's what, I'd hope most of the audience seeing this then or now would find Veda reprehensible and Mildred in the right, though I could also see some thinking Crawford's Mildred too forgiving. But hey, teenage years certainly are a f***er, right? There's a slightly soapy quality to all of this too, and a couple of things haven't dated really at all (i.e. while not to a cartoonish extent like in a Three Stooges short, the black maid/cook is a type, not a character here, especially with the high, squeaky voice). I found myself nevertheless completely enthralled and engaged with this film, in large part because the story is told by Curtiz with such care and details that mount to make the drama so thick with tension and conflict (and Crawford earns the s*** out of that Oscar). It may be too thick here and there, and Ann Blyth... good God), but this period in time kind of allots for it. Some film-noir I go to see by myself and preferably in a long coat and a flask hidden underneath with a beat up paperback somewhere. This is film-noir I could've watched with my grandmother, but I mean that as a compliment.

Joan Crawford's Oscar-crowning vehicle, directed by Michael Curtiz, the Oscar-winner from CASABLANCA (1942), based on a novel from James M. Cain and centers on the checkered life of our titular heroine, a twice-married woman, a mother of two, an entrepreneur starts her restaurant business ex nihilo.Ostensibly begins with a murder in the witching hour, the last word of the victim Monte Beragon (Scott), whom we later would know is Mildred's second husband, is an exclamatory "Mildred!", together with Mildred's suicidal impulse and sequentially tries to frame Wally Fay (Carson), an old friend (who persistently makes romantic advances to her, twice a week), as the killer, handily inscribes Mildred's name on the offender's seat in viewer's mind, then during the police interrogation, the narrative's main constituents are big chunks of flashback told entirely and chronically through Mildred's angle, not unlike Billy Wilder's DOUBLE INDEMNITY (1944), Cain's hard-boiled femme-fatale tall-tale.Technically speaking, leaving out the murder scene (under the shades of striking chiaroscuro and atmospheric suspense), this film has barely any chromosome of film-noir in its vein and Mildred, is anything but a femme-fatale, what's on offering is, firstly, a spirited story of a modern woman's liberation from her domestic stereotype, following by a harrowing melodrama. Mildred is a tough gal, when she first husband Bert Pierce (Bennett) has an affair and loses his job, she has no hesitation to pull the plug of their marriage and takes it on herself to raising their two daughters Veda (Blyth) and Kay (Marlowe), starting from a menial job as a waitress. But, Mildred has her Achille's heel, it is Veda, who is coddled by her unconditionally, which also causes the rift of her first marriage (and second as well), a rather discontent flavour in hindsight, is that we don't get the motivation behind her indulgence of Veda from the word go other than her own characteristic foibles (which is further facilitated by mawkishly taking Kay out of the entire picture, pneumonia fails to take the bad seed), which insinuates that Mildred is awfully bad at being a mother, now one can see the picture: a woman can actively seek divorce, independence and become the bread- maker for her children, she also can have a successful career (however convenient the process seems according to the film), but she cannot have everything, she must has her clay of feet, and that falls upon to another woman, her young, angel-faced teenage daughter portrayed as a petulant, callous, stuck-up ingrate, whose utter resentment towards her mother also leaves no elucidation, thus, the only rationale is she is pure evil. That's why it is very difficult to overlook its misogynous undertow in today's view, a curse Mildred eventually breaks at the end but the sadistic approach is artistically unsavory, a sideline depiction of Eve Arden's sharp-tongued Ida, a woman man intends to ignore because of her lack in sex appeal also comes off as a flea in the ear.Of course, men aren't better in every aspect in Cain's cynical conception, wily and lecherous as Wally, decadent and obnoxious as Monte, prim and inadequate as Burt, on different scales, they are scourges of Mildred's fix too, but some gets the comeuppance, some just doesn't. Ms. Crawford gives a genuinely pulsating performance notwithstanding, even errs on the side of operatics, but the fine-line between good and great for an actress of her status is that, in the end of the day, she cannot afford to completely de-glamorize herself for the sake of her character, Mildred doesn't need to be sexed up or gussied up, she is overall, a more head-headed type, but Ms. Crawford needs that, at the age of 39, she needs to reinforce her glamour not just by her acting bent, but her usual objectified sexual allure as well, which according to my lights, her own vanity and insecurity curtails the virtuosity of a well-rendered characterisation.Blyth and Arden are both Oscar-nominated, the former banks on a meaty role reek of insidious perverseness and the latter is a rapier-like wise-cracker, only Mildred never listens to her. Zachary Scott, on the other hand, combines a scintillating veneer of alluring urbanity, rank snobbery and depravity, one cannot really begrudge why those two women of disparate nature would both fall upon his sophisticated spells (however momentary they are), but that's the crux of MILDRED PIERCE, it appears more convincing in eliciting the unabashed rottenness from menfolk, but less so in its petticoat discord, which actually is the nexus of the entire tear-jerking endeavor, however scrumptious it may pander to ours eyes.

Known as the film that rescued Joan Crawford's waning career and the performance that won her her only Oscar, 'Mildred Pierce' is regarded as a classic for good reason and is so much more than those two things. While the book is more cynical and grittier, the sharp edge still remains.Crawford herself has never been better, she completely embodies her role and has rarely been more chilling, dignified or moving. The rest of the cast are more than up to her level, especially a conniving Ann Blyth, a suitably caddish Zachary Scott, a snappy Eve Arden and a typically excellent Jack Carson. Bruce Bennett's character is not quite as meaty as the rest but he still makes much of it. The characters mostly aren't likable, nor were they meant to be, and this is more than compensated by how well written and interesting they are, hardly caricatures.Michael Curtiz's direction is super cool, making 'Mildred Pierce' one of his best films along with 'Casablanca' and 'The Adventures of Robin Hood'. The cinematography is some of the most beautiful and atmospheric of any film that decade to me, and the film is lavishly mounted in production values. Max Steiner's music score may be similar to his score for 'Now Voyager', but that's not a bad thing because it's still a stirring and beautifully orchestrated score and typical Steiner.The script is sophisticated, sharp and unsentimental, and the story is riveting in its tension and poignancy with a good mix of film noir and melodrama.Overall, a classic. 10/10 Bethany Cox

Mildred Pierce (Joan Crawford) ponders suicide only to be stopped by a passing beat cop. Her husband Monte Beragon had been shot and she's the main suspect. During the police interrogation, she recounts her first marriage to Bert Pierce. Four years ago, Bert splits up with his real estate partner Wally Fay and leaves Mildred with their daughters Veda and Kay. Mildred struggles to make ends meet and lowers herself to get a waitress job which embarrasses Veda. Kay dies from pneumonia while with Bert. Mildred works hard to open her own restaurant. She buys a property from playboy Beragon who comes from an old upper-class faded family. Wally Fay advises her to divorce Bert to maintain her finances. She becomes successful with several restaurants. She dotes on Veda spoiling her as the mother daughter relationship spirals out of control. The story is soapy. Crawford is great holding the movie together. The drive comes from finding the end point. Ann Blyth does bratty bordering on evil. It is melodrama done at the highest level and it's all thanks to Crawford.