Bosley Crowther in the New York Times (November 7, 1962)

Joan Crawford and Bette Davis make a couple of formidable freaks in the new Robert Aldrich melodrama, "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?" But we're afraid this unique conjunction of the two one-time top-ranking stars in a story about two aging sisters who were once theatrical celebrities themselves does not afford either opportunity to do more than wear grotesque costumes, make up to look like witches and chew the scenery to shreds.

As this pair of profoundly jealous has-beens who live alone in an old Hollywood house, where one of them (Miss Crawford), a cripple, is confined to a wheelchair as the result of a long-ago vindictive "accident," they do get off some amusing and eventually blood-chilling displays of screaming sororal hatred and general monstrousness.

Especially Miss Davis. As the mobile one who is slowly torturing to death the helpless sister whose fame as a movie actress eclipsed her own as a child vaudeville star, she shrieks and shrills in brazen fashion, bats her huge mascaraed eyes with evil glee, snarls at the charitable neighbors and acts like a maniac. Indeed, it is only as a maniac that her character can be credited here—a sadly demented creature who is simply working out an ancient spite.

If you see her as that and see this picture, which opened yesterday in several score neighborhood theaters, as a "chiller" of the old-fashioned type—as a straight exercise in studied horror—you may find it a fairly gripping film.

The feeble attempts that Mr. Aldrich has made to suggest the irony of two once idolized and wealthy females living in such depravity and the pathos of their deep-seated envy having brought them to this, wash out very quickly under the flood of sheer grotesquerie. There is nothing particularly moving or significant about these two.

Miss Crawford does have the less malevolent and more sympathetic role. As a poor thing stuck in a wheelchair, unable to counter or resist her diabolic sister when she delivers a dinner tray bearing a dead pet canary or a scalded rat, she might earn one's gentle compassion. But she is such a sweetly smiling fraud, such an artlessly helpless ninny, that one feels virtually nothing for her. No wonder her crazy sister finds her a deadly bore.

Of course, she does have her big chance to chew some scenery when she has to drag herself to the telephone and when she later thrashes about in pop-eyed terror with her hands tied and a tape across her mouth.

Victor Buono gets a nice chance to do some elaborate acting, too. He plays a fat piano player who is invited into the house. But his weirdly epicene intruder is little more than a colorful buffoon, a bit of comic relief, in the proceedings. He takes a fast powder toward the end.

Maidie Norman also gets in for a few tense scenes as an anxious maid, and Anna Lee burbles occasionally as the woman who lives next door.

Of course, we won't tell you how it comes out. But the revelation at the end would be enough to tag the whole thing synthetic and a contrivance, if nothing else did— which it does.

Paul V. Beckley in the New York Herald Tribune (1962):

    If Miss Davis' portrait of an outrageous slattern with the mind of an infant has something of the force of a hurricane, Miss Crawford's performance could be described as the eye of that hurricane, abnormally quiet, perhaps, but ominous and desperate.

Variety (1962):

    Miss Crawford gives a quiet, remarkably fine interpretation of the crippled Blanche, held in emotionally by the nature and temperament of her role. Physically confined to a wheelchair and bed throughout the picture, she has to act from the inside and has her best scenes (because she wisely underplays with Davis) with a maid and those she plays alone. In one superb bit, Miss Crawford reacting to herself on television makes her face fairly glow with the remembrance of fame past.... A genuine heartbreaker.

Motion Picture Herald (1962):

     In playing their rather implausible roles the two old-pro actresses have a field day under the direction of Robert Aldrich....[Miss Davis] acts throughout...with all her well-remembered bite and venom intact, while Miss Crawford plays it beautifully and nobly, as of yore.

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Dennis Jones (June 2008)

I never miss the opportunity to see this film (and I’ve seen it several times). The acting, especially by the two principals, comes as close, to me, as being some of the finest ever on film. Miss Davis’ deranged character performance proves why she was designated the 2^nd best actress of all time. Miss Crawford plays her part just as well. I simply can’t imagine any else coming remotely close to what these two achieved with these roles. And although the film was made in 1962, a lot of people that I know still discuss this picture, not just for Davis’ or Crawford's performance, but for the believability these two titans of the silver screen conveyed with their outstanding performances. We have but very few actors these days that can match--on a consistent, career basis--the caliber of excellence you’ll find in these two great performers. If you haven’t seen “Baby Jane” yet, your “great movie viewing” is incomplete!

Stephi D.  (September 2006)

Rating:    of 5

Personally, I thought this film was wonderfully made. Of course everybody's heard about the rivalry between Joan and Bette and it's exciting to see them work together because you can just kinda sense how much they hate each other.