Stephanie  (May 2006)

Rating:   - 1/2 of 5

[Warning: Some spoilers!]

Joan has the reputation of being a hard-ass in her '50s films, thanks to her tough-gal roles in movies like "Torch Song" ('53), "Johnny Guitar" ('54), and "Queen Bee" ('55). 1956's "Autumn Leaves," though, features a kinder, gentler type of character that Joan was just as adept (though relatively unheralded) at playing during this same time period.

In "Leaves" (tightly directed, with plenty of interesting camera angles, by Robert Aldrich, who would go on to do "Baby Jane"), Joan is "Millicent Wetherby," a 50-ish, lonely freelance typist who lives and works in her Los Angeles bungalow and whose only companionship is her clients and her crusty but good-natured old landlady (Ruth Donnelly). When a grateful client gives Millie two tickets to a recital, she can't think of anyone to invite, but puts on a brave face and decides to make a night of it all by herself. (A charming bow to Joan's real-life past comes with the vendor selling gardenias---Joan's much-publicized favorite flower in the '30s---outside the theater. Millie jauntily pins one flower to her lapel.)

After the concert (during which we're flashed back to Millie's past when she had to turn down suitors to stay home and take care of her ailing father), Millie stops for a quick bite at a nearby diner, where, because of the crowd, she's forced to share a table with a chatty-but-earnest much-younger man (Cliff Robertson as "Burt"), a military vet who's new in town. Despite first being tense and annoyed by his presence, his easy small talk finally relaxes her and she begins to visibly glow with his attention. After he walks her home, they agree to meet the next day at the beach; despite Millie's initial nervousness at her appearance in a bathing suit, Burt again immediately puts her at ease and their frolicing soon leads to a passionate surf-side clinch. (As Danny mentioned in his below review, Joan was at first signed to play Karen Holmes in 1953's "From Here to Eternity"---this roll in the surf has to be her attempt at re-enacting the famous scene that she missed out on!)

Once the couple gets back to Millie's bungalow, though, Millie seemingly has a change of heart; their 20-something-year age difference has been bothering her, and she's also afraid that Burt just wants her because he's lonely. Despite his protests to the contrary, she breaks off the burgeoning relationship, then spends the next month working hard and trying not to mope. When Burt re-appears on her doorstep, she's still a bit wary, but ecstatic nonetheless. In the heat of the moment, they run off to Mexico, where they're married.

Things immediately (and I mean immediately!) start to sour, though. As they're driving back to LA, Burt mentions being born in Chicago...Cue ominous music: Earlier he'd told Millie he'd been born in Racine, Wisconsin. Millie shrugs off this anomaly, but the discrepancies in his life story soon start to snowball, culminating with the appearance of Burt's ex-wife (Vera Miles as "Virginia") on her doorstep. Turns out Burt and Virginia were divorced only a month ago. And now Virginia wants Burt to sign some property over to her. Virginia also tells Millie about Burt's cheesy past as a compulsive liar and shoplifter. She also mentions that Burt's allegedly long-suffering father (whom Burt had said was dead) is in town...

In a bit of honestly wrenching acting, Joan's Millie is visibly nauseous and heart-heavy at this latest news. But, staunch New Englander that her character is, she pulls herself together and first goes to visit Burt's father (played appropriately smarmily by "Bonanza"'s Lorne Greene), then confronts Burt, demanding first that he tell the truth about his past and then that he go to make peace with his estranged father. Burt finally agrees to see his father again, but once at his hotel, Burt witnesses a scene that triggers an old psychic wound. I'm trying to avoid too many spoilers here, but suffice from the following speech by Millie to Virginia and Dad (a classic "Joan Moment" on film) that the two have been up to no good:

Where's your decency? In what garbage dump, Mr. Hanson? And where's yours, you tramp?...You, his loving, doting, fraud of a father. And you, you SLUT! You're both so consumed with evil! So rotten! Your filthy souls are too evil for hell itself!

At this point, Burt completely loses it. He's seen Millie with his father and ex-wife and, in a truly frightening scene, accuses Millie of being in cahoots with them, then violently attacks her. Afterwards, Burt blacks out and can't remember the incident; at first pretending nothing's wrong, Millie hides her wounds behind dark glasses and bandages, but is finally convinced by her doctor---and by Burt's incessant sleepwalking and sobbing---that Burt really does need psychiatric help and should be committed to a sanitarium. "Schizophrenic tendencies" and "infantilism" is the doctor's diagnosis. Millie's big fear now: Will Burt's need for her disappear once his neuroses are cured? Is she only a "neurotic need," as the doctor says??

"Autumn Leaves" was one of the first Joan-films I ever saw (in the late '80s) and it helped turn me into a definite fan. Upon just now re-viewing it, I remain impressed by the range and depth of Joan's performance. I'm also impressed by the refusal of the film itself to buy wholeheartedly into the stereotypical "desperate older woman who'll do anything for a semblance of love" theme that seems to have had a field-day in the neurotic 1950s.

Joan's Millie is a very real character---sure, she's lonely, but she's also not "desperate" or willing to accept any guy that looks at her twice. As she says, she's used to being by herself; she's also perfectly capable of entertaining herself for an evening, or gently mocking her younger lover when he's getting a bit too maudlin. She's also awkwardly funny, and amused by her own little jokes. In one early scene, she and Burt have been arguing about their age discrepancy; Millie admits, "I goofed" (apparently a new catch-phrase in 1956). Burt looks amazed and says, "Hey, that's bop-talk!" Millie looks bemused and wonders why she shouldn't know phrases like that---"I'm not that old!"

Joan's chemistry with Cliff Robertson is also very real. Though I personally found Burt a bit annoying---and, yes, "neurotic"---here, their characters are clearly very close sexually; whether he's nuzzling her neck as they dance or they're nuzzling in bed, Burt and Millie are obviously turned on by each other and sincerely like each other. Burt's puppyish charm lightens Millie considerably, just as her common sense and responsiveness to him give him much-needed assurance. (See "Sunset Blvd." and "The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone" RE films that don't treat a May-October romance---when the female's the "October"---nearly so generously.)

The story obviously turns into a heavy one, what with Burt going nuts and all, but overall the movie's really not about his breakdown but, rather, about true love and about Millie's ability to weather a few emotional storms that life hadn't quite prepared her for.

The final scene at Burt's sanitarium is a real acting treat. Millie's insecurity at seeing her husband for the first time in 6 months---will he still love her?---exhibits itself in an intentionally long-winded and nervous soliloquy that's absolutely in-character for Millie. There are none of the famous "Joan Crawford Fireworks"---just Joan-the-Very-Good-Actress at her finest.

Danny (April 2005)

Joan Crawford plays Millicent Weatherby, a lonely, aging, single spinster who’s a champion typist but a loser in love. Her youth was wasted taking care of her infirm father and now, middle aged and alone, she lives in a shabby, rented bungalow next to character actress Ruth Donnelly. When Millie meets a handsome--and much younger--ex-soldier, played convincingly by Cliff Robertson, she resists falling in love but finally yields to his seductive charm and marries him. But she soon learns that her new boy-toy, Burt, is a psycho who went ballistic after witnessing his father and wife trysting the night away. Ultra-sensitive creature that he is, he never fully recovered from the shock. He becomes paranoid and turns away from Millie during a violent altercation. Don’t miss the exciting, memorable moment when Burt throws a typewriter at Millie and injures her hand. She soon locks him up in a loony bin until he’s cured then tortures herself with worry that he will no longer love her once he’s normal again.

Joan plays the May/December romance to the fullest, and dares to address the question of age with honesty. Watch for the beach scene where Joan and Cliff frolic in the waves. They fall upon each other in the surf, just like Deborah Kerr and Burt Lancaster did in From Here to Eternity, a role that Joan lost out on a few years earlier. Adding to the atmosphere is Charles Lang, who did the camerawork and provides plenty of Crawford-esque shadows across her face.

Personally, the older woman/younger man theme is one of my favorites, but Robertson comes on a bit too brash for my taste. Perhaps it’s a tribute to his believable acting skills, but he is just like some of the crazy people I have known.

Favorite dialogue comes when Millie socks it to Burt’s father and former wife: “Where’s your decency? In what garbage dump, Mr Hanson? And where’s yours, you tramp? You his loving, doting fraud of a father and you, you slut! You’re both consumed with evil so rotten your filthy souls are too evil for hell itself!”

You Baby Jane fans will notice the cocky cockney waitress is played by none other than Edwin Flagg’s mother, Marjorie Bennett. But then, this whole enterprise was helmed by Robert Aldrich, the man who “likes evil things.”