JOAN CRAWFORD Disses FEUD: Part 5 of a Parody Series.
FEUD’s ep.4 “More, or Less” was more or less THREE stolen scenes from Mommie Dearest, the biblical source for fake-Joan Crawford bio-reference.
ONE. FEUD re-purposed from Mommie Dearest one of the most appalling compelling scenes in cinematic history—me in a boardroom in a black Kremlin-looking hat dropping the F•CK-bomb. The bomb got dropped twice this time, maybe to put FEUD’s fake-ownership stamp on it. Jessica Lange Dearest: You can say it twice or even thrice if you want, but Faye Dunaway said it once and we remember every word of it. Besides F•CK, I can’t exactly remember the rest of what you said.
This is not your fault, dear. You’re trying to bring to life two legends—me and Faye—that’s a lot of luggage to carry, even at your level.
TWO. Also on the FEUD Dearest-lite side, we’re back at Perino’s supper club where I reign as queen—or so I think. And just like every queen with a troublesome principality (Baby Jane) I confide my concerns in a maître d’ who appears less than interested and can’t dump me fast enough at my throne (known to him as a “table”).
Once seated, I further demonstrated both my royal empathy and mastery of history (and preference for confiding in hired help who have to pretend they are listening) when I revealed to Mamacita my informed views on 1937’s most disastrous headline—not Hitler annexing Austria, but me being labeled box office poison. Mamacita’s response to my insights seemed for some reason more mutely disgusted than impressed.
(Related note to Jennifer Aniston re box office poison: Things change, dear, and you may not always be the late-40s-something American Sweetheart and category winner for Leading TV Actress Sustaining the Same Perky Figure in 18 Unrelated Big-Screen Films Produced within the Same G•dd•mned Year that you think you are now.) (Side-note to FEUD: Hitler annexed Austria and I was labeled box office poison in 1938, not 1937. What’s your fact-source—Trump tweets?)
My breathtaking international-relations expertise was offered inside Perino’s right after we saw the same shot of the Ford Falcon from ep.1 in the porte-cochère outside the place. Since it was a cheap Falcon, Ford’s lowest-priced car at the time, we’ll just call the porte-cochère a drive-through, and not go all French-fancy.
Memo to FEUD: If there was ever a Ford product in the drive-through at Perino’s, it was a Lincoln, or at the very least a high-end Mercury. (I know what a ‘62 Mercury looked like because that’s what the Secret Service conveyed me in to and from the White House for the president’s pleasure. Hold this startling thought for a minute.)
Of course, now, in 2017, Lincolns are simply Falcons in drag smeared with cosmetics like power windows: this is the automotive idea of the same way people with smartphones distribute selfies like they are movie stars. Fake upgrade.
But FEUD is 1962. It wasn’t the same. Luxury cars were luxury cars, movie stars were movie stars, news was real news not FAKE news, and the president of the United States was…well…he was having an affair with Marilyn Monroe when I wasn’t around. I tell you more about THAT bombshell in my fake autobiography and cultural parody Mommie Smearest: See Joan Crawford In Bitch Selfie Ain’t Make You No Movie Star.
NO, I DON’T MEAN “BOMBSHELL” AS IN G•DD•MNED MARILYN. I mean about me and the president. Let’s get back to cars.
Like that same g•dd•mned used ’59 yellow Coupe de Ville FEUD keeps riding me around in. It’s supposed to be 1962, for Christ’s sake. How long do you think a movie star who smokes and drinks en route is going to keep the same Cadillac with cigarette stench and burns in the seats? I’m pretty careful with that flask so there’s probably not much vodka slopped onto the upholstery.
One handles one’s precious liquids with care, but one can always send Mamacita into Rite-Aid for another g•dd•mned pack of cigarettes one crushes as one falls drunkenly into the front seat after getting mad at Marilyn for looking better than I do in a tight dress at an evening public event after I was unable to reach the president by private-number phone all afternoon knowing g•dd•mned good and well he was on the West Coast that day. Or something.
THREE. Mommie Dearest drunk scenes are literally smeared throughout FEUD ep.4 and Jessica Lange is simply too powerful and nuanced an actress to make me look good in stages of drunkenness. If the scene calls for me to be portrayed as being drunk, hungover and/or surly, I don’t want to LOOK like I’m drunk, hungover and/or surly, for Christ’s sake.
Jessica Dearest: See Faye Dunaway’s expert portrayals where I might be actin’ drunk and disorderly with my boyfriend in my boudoir in Mommie Dearest, but maintain a sense of glamour and control throughout—not like your shaking and desperate horny-old-drunk scene of me with Jack Warner in my living room.
Even smeared in kabuki paint while drunkenly flinging clothes hangers and cleaning powder around an entire wing of the house, Faye made me look strong, commanding, beautiful and in control. Under her watch, I never seemed doubtful.
I don’t like you making me look sloppy and bitter during a good binge-drunk, or jittery during the next morning’s follow-on hangover while my maid-turned-g•ddm•mned-demographer Mamacita takes the twins to the library to forecast population trends and the women-driven motion-picture industry in the year 1970.
So much for library science. If Mamacita knew so g•dd•mned much, why was the only film project I got that year called Trog?
BACKSTORY on Kinkster MAG Contributor JOAN CRAWFORD’s FEUD Reviews
In keeping with Kinkster MAG’s objective of reinventing intellect and culture with thoughtful and unapologetic articles and original celebrity interviews for gay men with an edge, we asked Joan Crawford to review FEUD: Bette and Joan. Our Joan is from the searing novel lampooning reality-culture Mommie Smearest: See Joan Crawford In Bitch Selfie Ain’t Make You No Movie Star, with the outrageous-parody voice of Miss Crawford from the cult film Mommie Dearest. Read all of Joan’s FEUD parodies: here. Read Kinkster MAG’s review of Mommie Smearest here.