"Queen Bee" came out in 1955, midway through a decade when the plays of Tennessee Williams were much in vogue, both in their original theatrical form and in cinematic adaptations. It has much in common with Williams's dramas, being a story about a family riven by jealousies and hatreds and with a setting in the Deep South. The "Queen Bee" of the title is Eva Phillips, the wife of a wealthy Georgia mill owner, who has earned that nickname by the ruthless way in which she dominates her husband and her relatives. The other main characters are Eva's alcoholic husband Avery, Avery's sister Carol, Carol's fiancé (and Eva's former lover) Judson Prentiss, who works as Avery's mill manager, and Jennifer Stewart, a young cousin visiting from Chicago. Although the film was based upon a novel ("The Queen Bee" by Edna L. Lee) rather than a stage play, it was mostly (apart from the final climactic scene) made in the "filmed theatre" style, with most of the action taking place indoors and an emphasis upon dialogue rather than physical action. I said that it has much in common with Tennessee Williams, but in one department it seems sadly lacking. Williams's writing could at times be overwrought and excessively melodramatic, but he was also capable of producing some genuinely gripping and moving drama. I have never read Lee's novel (indeed, until seeing this film I had never heard of it or its author), but on the evidence of this screenplay the scriptwriter Ranald MacDougall (who also acted as director) sadly lacked Williams's dramatic talents. He keeps the melodrama and overwrought emotion, but lacks the literary skill to make anything of them. Two episodes in particular struck me as unconvincing. The first comes when Carol commits suicide after learning that Judson was once Eva's lover. MacDougall is never able to convince us that there is any reason why a healthy young woman should have done such a thing, especially as the Eva/Judson romance was over long before he became engaged to Carol (or, for that matter, before Eva married Avery. MacDougall (or perhaps Edna Lee) seems to have imagined that any decent drama needs at least one suicide to make it interesting. The other development I found hard to credit was the romance that grows up between Avery and Jennifer. It is not simply the age difference- older man/younger girl love-stories were commonplace in films of this era. It is also that Avery has hitherto been portrayed as a useless drunken layabout living off inherited money- hardly the sort of man likely to appeal to a spirited young woman like Jennifer, even if she did have a thing for married men old enough to be her father. Joan Crawford plays Eva less as Queen Bee than as Queen Bitch, the spiritual ancestor of Alexis Carrington, the character made famous by another Joan C in "Dynasty". The difference is that Joan Collins made Alexis a repellent but fascinating creature whose malevolent and ruthless amorality was offset by her seductive glamour, whereas Crawford's Eva is simply repellent without the glamour or sex appeal. She was also too old for the role. Crawford's exact age was as closely guarded as an official secret, but in 1955 she was probably in her early fifties and Eva, the mother of two children of pre-school age, is doubtless intended to be much younger. Crawford was always rather mannish in appearance, a trait exaggerated here by some rather odd make- up, and although this aspect of her appearance could seem appropriate in some of her movies, such as "Johnny Guitar" from the previous year, it makes it difficult for us to accept Eva as a sultry siren. At least Crawford, however, does make an impression of sorts, something I cannot say most of the other cast members, who all play their characters in a very one-dimensional way. The principal exception is the otherwise obscure Lucy Marlow (she only acted in about three other films) who gives a creditable performance as Jennifer. I said earlier that until seeing this film I had never heard of Edna Lee's novel. For that matter I had never heard of the film either until I caught it late at night on a TV movie channel and watched it because I had admired Crawford in some of her other offerings. Having seen it I can now understand why it ranks among the lesser-known entries in her filmography. 4/10

A guilty pleasure if I ever saw one. Directect by Ranald McDougall, even his name reads like a misspell, he was the writer of Mildred Pierce and clearly Crawford trusted him. Look at her entrance, from a distance, a subtle and no so subtle game of light and music. The turgid tale of evil and deception suffers from holes in every angle but this is not the sort of picture that can afford that kind of scrutiny. This is a showcase for the late term Crawford die hard fans. You wont be able to help but admire her devastating self confidence. She knew every trick in the book as an actress as well as a character. Queen Bee goes bye fast very fast and the moral compass is determined by Lucy Marlow when in fact it needed a sort of Anne Baxter or someone with a bit more gravitas. To be seen with a bunch of like minded friends and laugh out loud.

This is Joan at her nastiest. Don't come here looking for lighthearted fare because there is none. I know that "nastiness" is one of Joan's specialties. If you are to believe "Mommie Dearest" it must be because she had a lot of that in her to begin with.Some people love to watch people at their nastiest, but I find them a little hard to tolerate after 20-30 minutes.I did like the cinematography and elaborate sets. The costumes were gorgeous on all the woman, but of course Joan is showcased in the finest. The southern mansion is a sight to behold as well.I didn't care much for Barry Sullivan as Crawford's husband. He seemed very wooden and mechanical in his dialogue.There isn't any pleasantness to be had in the whole entire movie. Just a lot of nastiness, deceit, infidelity and lying. So don't watch this if you want lighthearted entertainment or a deep, convincing plot.

And you're not, Joan, in this Gothic 1955 soap. Joan's a Northerner who married into Southern aristocracy and rules the Tara-like mansion with threats, sarcasm, deceit, and in one memorable take, a quite real-looking slap at a prettier young actress. That's Lucy Marlow, who actually has what's probably the lead role in terms of length. But the focus is Joan, Joan, Joan, and while her evil-bitch persona is always entertaining--at this point in her career, she'd determined it was the way her fans wanted to see her, and she wasn't shy about pouring on the acid--it's not a very energetic or convincing movie. The children, for one thing. Aside from the fact that they're at least 20 years too young to be Joan's children (and Tim Hovey is an unusually annoying '50s kid actor), their relationship with the parental units isn't spelled out at all. What's their father (Barry Sullivan)'s attitude toward them, and vice versa? And is the ending meant to be, like, happy? And how are we supposed to feel about Jud (John Ireland)--hero or heel? It's like writer-director Ranald MacDougall just wanted to paste together a medley of evil-Joan moments and didn't really care whether the continuity made any sense. There are some memorable images, though, and a bevy of ugly '50s fashions, and the usual fawning over how lovely La Crawford is even though she isn't. That ought to keep you amused through the lulls.