The shoulder pads, as if she’d mugged a linebacker. The thick eyebrows, which resembled two comatose caterpillars. The damning charges, in a memoir and a movie, accusing her of being an abusive mother, obsessed with wire hangers. Joan Crawford may have died 50 years ago, but her legend lives on in the minds of classic film fans. In the 1920s, she emerged from a Dickensian childhood to become a Charleston-dancing flapper. In the 1930s, she was one of MGM’s top female stars, sh

Brain vs. brawn. Good guys vs. outlaws. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance may focus on a fatal duel, but it’s definitely not a typical shoot-‘em-up Western. Leonard Maltin summarizes the tale in this review from his Classic Movie Guide: “Tenderfoot lawyer Stewart helps civilize the West, but needs help from he-man Wayne to do so. Panned and patronized upon original release, but now regarded as an American classic.” Stewart is James Stewart, Wayne is (of course) John Wayne. The

When I was a child, my mother’s Aunt Irene would sometimes visit us. Irene was deaf, but she communicated by reading lips and speaking in what sounded like French to my young ears. Mom, who had grown up around Irene, could understand her perfectly. I felt as if I needed those headsets that U.N. delegates wear so translators can interpret the proceedings in the listener’s native tongue. My interactions with Irene surely contributed to my fascination with Helen Keller, whose ea

As a writer, I’ve always marveled at people who adapt books for the screen. On the upside, the scriptwriter gets the benefits of an established story, characters and dialogue. But there are plenty of downsides: How can you turn a beloved novel into a film that fans of the original will accept, along with the moviegoers who simply want to be entertained? How do you capture the magic of the printed page on celluloid? Which parts do you cut and which do you keep? It had to have

Walter Matthau was Jack Lemmon’s frequent co-star and best friend. Lemmon gave the eulogy at Matthau’s funeral, and a year later, was himself laid to rest near his pal in the same cemetery. Leave it to Matthau to capture Lemmon’s essence, which he did at the actor’s AFI Life Achievement Award ceremony: “He allows us to see the tragedy and the comedy of the world through the eyes of someone we know. Someone, he hints, we may even be.” Much as fans love his work in comedies lik

The 1950s bred a bumper crop of films about show biz. Some were light-hearted (Singin’ in the Rain, The Band Wagon). Others told a darker tale (Sunset Blvd., All About Eve, A Star is Born). Lost in the shuffle is one of my favorites: The Bad and The Beautiful, starring Kirk Douglas as a ruthless film producer and the people whose careers he championed, including an alcoholic actress (Lana Turner), a Southern writer (Dick Powell), and a B-movie director (Barry Sullivan). "Peop