Bette and Joan The Divine Feud (44 page)

By the time she arrived at Los Angeles International Airport that Saturday evening, Crawford had her defense strategy in order. Leaving the airport in her limousine, the star tapped on the dividing window and instructed her driver that there was a change in directions. She did not want him to go to her apartment on Fountain Avenue. They were to proceed directly to Cedars Sinai Hospital, where she intended to check herself in as a patient.

"As happens in times of stress, Crawford became ill," Bob Thomas reported.

"I can't tell you what I went
through during those weeks that
shooting stopped, waiting for
Crawford to get well. It was
sheer torture."

—BETTE DAVIS

The following Monday, June 15, with Crawford in the hospital, her stand-in, E. M. Jones, substituted for the star on the first day of filming. "It was just a matter of days, we were told, and Joan would be back," said Bob Gary.

Bette Davis, who knew a few things about faking illnesses from her battles with Jack Warner, advised Bob Aldrich not to cater to Joan's tricks. On June 16,17,18, and 19, Aldrich rescheduled scenes and shot around the missing actress. That Friday, he requested a medical report from the hospital, and was told that Crawford had a bad case of dysentery and an excessively high blood count. The following day the hospital reported that the patient had developed a sore throat and "intermittent cough."

"It is no wonder she has a cold," said Bette Davis. "She insists on having the soundstages frozen at fifty degrees. Grown men were wearing lumber jackets, and the ladies had long underwear under their dresses. We were freezing our asses off."

At the end of the second week, when Aldrich had completed the scenes with the other actors, Joan Crawford was still in the hospital. By then it was Davis' belief that her opponent wanted out of the picture. But Crawford's lawyer turned down a settlement offer on her behalf. This confused Aldrich and his star-partner. "Just what
is
her angle?" Bette asked. A possible answer came from Hedda Hopper's column that weekend. "I am bedded with the script," Joan told the columnist. "It will be a much better movie when I've recovered."

On day twelve of her illness, the director spoke to Crawford. She confirmed she had some "wonderful new script ideas" for him. For starters, she felt that the audience should know more about Miriam, her character. There was a considerable amount of background on Bette's character as a young woman, etc., and none on hers. Aldrich agreed that a flashback scene could be inserted, showing the
two
characters as young women. Joan also felt that, inasmuch as Miriam had been and was still a very beautiful woman, it didn't seem authentic that she had only one gentleman caller (Joseph Cotten) in the entire script. "She should have more beaux," said Joan.

"How many beaux?" the director asked.

"At least two ... perhaps an attorney and a politician," the star recommended.

Major idea number three was the inclusion of a good old-fashioned Southern ball at the mansion. A formal party, welcoming Cousin Miriam back to Louisiana, would give a dandy decorative and dramatic boost to the story. It would enable Joan to dress up and make a spectacular entrance down the grand staircase. "Charlotte [Bette] could be there, of course, under the staircase, or watching from her bedroom," Crawford suggested. "That would increase the conflict between the two and make Cousin Miriam seem like more of a threat."

"There will be no
goddamn
ball or any changes in the script," said Cousin Bette when Aldrich went over Crawford's suggestions with her on Monday, June 29.

On Tuesday, June 30, Joan's cold suddenly became worse and developed into pneumonia.

On Thursday, Aldrich was forced to inform the cast and crew of
Hush
...
Hush, Sweet Charlotte
that production was temporarily closing down.

A week later Crawford was still in the hospital. "No one could figure out what was wrong with her," said Bill Aldrich.

"Doctor Kennamer, Elizabeth Taylor's specialist, has diagnosed Joan's mystery ailment as a rare form of pneumonia," Hedda Hopper reported. "The cause of it has the specialists and the insurance company stumped."

"They thought perhaps it was hair spray that got into her lungs," said Peggy Shannon, "but I told them I never use hair spray."

On July 10, with her health improved slightly, Joan was able to sit up, take calls, and fully appreciate the attention that at last was being paid. The flowers, cards, and notes came in abundance from the
Sweet Charlotte
company. "We love you," said the giant card, signed by each member of the crew. "Come back, we miss you," wrote Agnes Moorehead.

"Well ... ," said Sidney Skolsky, "what do you hear from Bette?"

"Nothing."

"No flowers?"

"No flowers."

"No telegrams?"

"No telegram."

"No card?"

"No card."

"No call?"

"No call."

"Dear Mr. Aldrich," said a letter found in the director's files, "I read about Miss Crawford's respiratory illness, and I feel positive it is 'Psychosomatic.' Joan 'wants a little more depth in her role,' and her subconscious mind is holding out for the change. Give her what she wants, and mark my words, Mr. Aldrich, her illness will disappear. Believe me it's worth a try. Most sincerely, Mrs. Betty Clark."

On Monday, July 20, Crawford returned to work. Arriving at Fox at 6:30
A.M.
, she spent three hours in makeup, then, accompanied by her retinue, stepped on the soundstage to applause and hugs from the cast and crew. Bette Davis also joined in the welcome. She handed Joan "one perfect red rose, with, surprise!—the thorns removed," said Dorothy Kilgallen.

Upon going through the script and counting the revised pink pages, Joan seemed content, assuming her role had been magnified; but on the afternoon of the second day she learned that her part was going to be diminished further, by Bette. Resuming her position of authority behind the camera, Davis announced, during a scene between Crawford and Joseph Cotten, that she wanted some lines eliminated. "I am cutting some dialogue," said Bette, wielding a large red pencil and excising large chunks of dialogue from Joan's scene. "Miriam doesn't need them, and you, Mr. Cotten, I hope you don't mind. These lines hold me up."

This time Joan abandoned her professionalism. She turned on her heel and went to her dressing room, Len Baxter reported.

"It was just a matter of each wanting something, and Davis kind of won out," said Monte Westmore.

"Not quite," said the party of the second part.

According to the insurance reports for the next day, "A weakened Joan Crawford reported to work and left at noon." On Thursday, July 23, she left at 11:00
A.M.
; on Friday she departed for home at fifteen minutes past noon.

Skeptical of her condition, Robert Aldrich, at the urging of Davis, decided to have Crawford followed that weekend by a private detective. His report was found in the director's files:

"Case No. 5229. Date of Report: July 27th, 1964. Subject: Joan Crawford, 8313 Fountain Avenue. Apt D. In compliance with instructions from Mr. Aldrich, a stakeout and surveillance was maintained on the above location in an effort to determine if the named subject departed the premises over July 24,25, 1964. The following information is submitted as a result of observations made at the times indicated."

According to the private detective, no activity of interest was reported on Joan's apartment house on Friday evening or all day Saturday, "except for the spotting of Loretta Young, who also resided in the building." On Saturday at 5:00
P.M.
"a late model Rolls Royce, two-tone brown, was observed to depart and proceed west on Fountain Avenue. Vehicle displayed License No 071-483 and was driven by a woman appearing to be the subject. She wore a bandana with her hair and dark sunglasses. There is little or no doubt that this was Miss Crawford and she was alive at the time [
sic
]."

Detailing the streets that Joan drove along, "mostly in Beverly Hills," the sleuth confessed that at the intersection of Wilshire and Santa Monica Boulevard he lost the subject. Circling the streets in the area and "the garage and parking lot of the adjacent Beverly Hilton Hotel," he could not locate the car or Miss Crawford. Returning to her building, he checked the open parking spaces, to determine if the Rolls-Royce had been returned. It hadn't. 'At 6:10 pm until 11 Pm, stakeout was resumed at the entrance to the garage area so that subject could be observed returning." At 11:30
P.M.
, when the car had not been observed, surveillance was discontinued.

"She gave the
fool
the slip," Bette Davis blared with amazement and approval when Aldrich gave her the sleuth's report.

On Monday, July 27, Joan came to work but quit at 12:55
P.M.
, complaining of fatigue again. That afternoon an "insurance meeting" was held at the studio, attended by Bob Aldrich, his lawyer, and the vice-president of production at Fox, Richard Zanuck. During the meeting the lawyer placed a call to Crawford's lawyer, Leonard Rosen, in New York. He explained to him "in minute detail the seriousness of the situation and that if Crawford was unable to daily extend her working period, the insurance company would force us into taking some drastic action."

When asked for a definition of drastic action, Aldrich's lawyer replied "(a) cancel the picture (b) replace Crawford. In either case, it would probably resolve itself in Crawford's future uninsurability [for future pictures]."

The following day, Tuesday, July 28, when Crawford showed up for work, Aldrich met with her in her dressing room and "rephrased" the warning. "It was quite obvious that she and her lawyer had talked," the director wrote in a memo to Dick Zanuck. "She went on to state that her point of low energy seemed to be right after lunch. I suggested we take a 2-2½ hour lunch and that she come back and work after that. That was done and the total of Tuesday's work was 5 hours and 25 minutes, which all things considered wasn't too bad."

On the set on Wednesday, Joan worked until one-thirty, then informed Aldrich she "had over-taxed herself the previous day, and that reluctant as she was, she would have to return to a less strenuous shooting schedule." Aldrich in turn informed the star that he wanted her examined by the company's insurance doctor. Resenting his suspicions and the harassment, Joan said she was returning to her dressing room and would no longer talk directly to the director.

"The only way they communicated was through me," said the star's makeup man, Monte Westmore. "Joan would tell me something, then I'd go and tell Aldrich. He would give me a reply to take back to Joan. It was an unpleasant, awkward position for me to be in."

That same afternoon, Aldrich spoke to Dick Zanuck, and the two agreed to give Crawford the benefit of the doubt. They would declare a short hiatus in filming. Production would shut down for three more days, from Wednesday afternoon, July 29, until Monday morning, August 3, to give the ailing star a chance to recover.

"I returned to the stage and informed Crawford, in the plainest and simplest language, that the situation was so serious we could not continue in this matter," said Aldrich.

He also called her lawyer.

An hour later Joan emerged from her trailer and went to Aldrich's office.

"She asked if she could rehearse on the stage during her days off," he said. "I told her I thought this would be contrary to the spirit of the hiatus, since we wanted her to get total rest. And I doubted if this would put us in very good light with the insurance company, to have her parading around the stage while we maintained she was incapable of shooting."

Crawford then changed her approach. She told the director "that her apartment was so hot during the daylight hours it was uninhabitable" and would we allow her to spend those hours in her Fox dressing room. I replied that anything that would speed and help her recovery would be to our collective advantage and of course this would be okay."

Meanwhile, Bette Davis began to feel she was entitled to equal angst time. On the following day, Thursday, she had been scheduled to report to Fox to record dialogue with the other cast members. That morning she called the director and begged off. She was "filled with despair and despondency," Aldrich told Dick Zanuck, "and truly sad. Her point was that she was so depressed at not knowing when and if the picture was ever going to be finished, and she seriously doubted her capacity to contribute much to the prerecording."