From the 1950s: Female on the Beach

1955 Drama
From Universal-International
Directed by Joseph Pevney

Starring

Joan Crawford

Jeff Chandler

Jan Sterling

Charles Drake

Cecil Kellaway

Judith Evelyn

Natalie Schaefer

I've mentioned a time or twelve that I have always been a B movie fan.  Those double (sometimes triple) features at my favorite childhood theater, The Beverly, only three blocks away, turned me into a B movie devotee.  It's never changed.

This movie and so many like it fit in perfectly with the comfy chair in my library on that proverbial rainy Sunday afternoon.  This time was without the rain but the rest is there and added to it was Kamora-laden coffee and a big, fat blueberry muffin from Costco and I am absolutely in heaven.

The B movies I've adored are designed to entertain, pure and simple.  They could often be in gorgeous color (as was frequently the case at Universal) or black and white if a studio was watching its pennies.  They usually didn't have great production values, the directors were usually each studio's go-to boys and not the big names with whom you are familiar.

There were actors who were known as B actors because B movies are all they ever did.  There were those new at the studio and it was usually a B flick that would help with the training.  It could also be where former A stars could now be found.  Let's bring in Joan, Jeff and Jan, two of my favored actors, and see why they might have been here.

By the time the fifties had dawned, Crawford's flicks had petered out.  She would never again make an A flick unless you consider Baby Jane to be an A... and it's ok if you do.  In the 50s and 60s, she was one of the queens of the Bs... by the 70s it was Cs and Ds.

Despite its entertainment value, Female on the Beach is hardly a great movie or even an entirely coherent one but that was ok by Crawford.  She only wanted to be sure that a few good scenes were available and that she wore beautiful clothes and that the makeup and hair folks thought of no one but her.  If she could knock off early or stay late for a quiet script discussion with her director and/or a costar, so much the better.  

Chandler was one of the kings at U-I.  He shared the throne with people named Hudson and Curtis.  Chandler was never more than a very good B actor and as I see it, he was satisfied with that.  He was satisfied being handsome, hunky, manly and relatively shy.  That shyness, I suspect, held him back.  While his résumé is full of westerns, adventures and war pictures, when he turned to a romantic drama the jungle drums sounded and girls and certain boys flocked to their local cinemas.

Sterling is the best actor of the trio.  She was usually at the top of her form when she was bad but she was always a completely engaging actress whose prowess was evident.  She was never a top star, which is a damned shame, and her work in Bs kept me googly-eyed for years.

I've never cared for this say-nothing title but if it were to go in that direction then it should have been Hunk on the Beach.  At the center of all the action is Drummy (Chandler), a beach bum-boytoy who lives with an older couple, the Sorensons (Kellaway and Schaefer), and all work to befriend or romance and fleece rich women who also live on the beach.  Had the writers cared to go there, Drummy could have been a gay character.  When Crawford says to him you don't even like women, he makes no move to correct her.

The story opens with a murder.  Someone has pushed resident lush Eloise Crandall (Evelyn) through her guardrail on her upper deck.  We see only a shadowy presence on the deck after Eloise crashes to the sand.  Eloise was despondent because she realizes Drummy is just playing her.

Amy Rawlinson (Sterling) is a real estate agent who is seen fussing about the Crandall house getting it ready for its owner (but never a resident), a recent widow, Lynn Markham (Crawford) to move in.

We're soon aware that Amy has been hot for Drummy for years but he sees her as simply a friend.  He immediately has eyes for Lynn but she is haughty and rude with him because he has a key to her home and has just walked in.  He also has a boat tied to her dock and she tells him to remove it.  He tries and tries to break down her resistance but nothing seems to work.  The Sorensons want him to try harder.  They're all running low on cash.

Ultimately, of course, Lynn weakens.  She, too, drinks too much, finds the beach lonely, the neighbors less than friendly and a police detective (Drake) too snoopy.  But she needs some attention and rightly decides Drummy is the dreamboat to help her out.

Most of the story concerns the back and forth nature of their volatile relationship.  It gets so good that she agrees to marry him and shortly after the ceremony they have a ferocious fight and she claims it's over because she's now certain he murdered Eloise and that she's the next victim.  When she accuses him of being a user, he admits to all, including the operation he's had going with the Sorensons but claims that not only did he not murder Eloise but that he realized at the time of the wedding that he actually does love his wife.  If only it were that easy...

The finale takes place at exactly the spot it's got to... back at that railing.  Something happens that astonishes Lynn and is aided more by what she's sees going on below her on the beach.

Crawford had to be her manipulative self to get this part but then there was always some story for all the parts she got in the fifties.  She didn't belong to any studio and directors or producers didn't call her up with a Joanie, we have the perfect role for you.  No, she had to hunt and she could always go in for the kill if she'd been to bed with some honcho.  In this case it was Milton Rackmil, the head of the studio.  She wasn't asking for the world... just some starring role with four or five good dramatic scenes, beautiful clothes and a handsome costar.  Milton, Darling, is that asking too much?  For old times sake...?

Years earlier she put the moves on Chandler when she spotted him at a party.  He was married then but no matter to Joan... or apparently Jeff.  So JC and JC went off somewhere.  Their non-exclusive romp lasted for nearly a year.  I want Jeff Chandler, she cooed to Rackmil, and I hear he's one of your employees and brightest stars. 

Your wife's on the phone...

Chandler happily signed on.  He rarely caused the studio any grief over his roles.  He almost always did as he was told.  In return U-I  took good care of him.  They bought him a home, made him think he was the most important one in the world to them and turned their backs when he strayed from that image they'd all built on.

Throughout the production Chandler and Crawford resumed their affair by nearly nightly visits to her elaborate dressing room.

Crawford usually did not get along with her chief female costar.  (Ann Blyth and later Diane Baker were exceptions.)  She frequently called her Miss Sterling except that she got the last name wrong.  Sterling, however, was no wallflower and it's likely the imperious one would have had her comeuppance had she not lightened up with her costar.

                                                       Sterling and Crawford                                                                        
            
                                                              

I've seen mighty few Crawford movies where I didn't wish someone else had been hired instead... this one included.  I would have preferred listening to her on the radio.  In the fifties, she looked so butch.  The short hair with the shaved back and the frou-frou thing on the front top prevented me from swooning.  And the thick eyebrows must have made the Westmores cringe.  We won't elaborate on the shoulder pads or the cfm pumps but we will take a moment for her costumes.

Costumes were, I think, the #1 consideration,  She needed pretty dresses.  It didn't matter if the scene or character didn't call for it.  It was her way or the highway.  She found it was the highway when she bucked up against director Fred Zinnemann who wanted her to play Karen Holmes in From Here to Eternity. 

But obedient studio contract director Joe Pevney was no Zinnemann so Crawford running across the beach in an elaborate party dress and a long, flowing cape and high heels (!!!) is really just too much.  Not once, mind you, but several times.  While we're at it, the same could be said for Sterling.  Had no one ever heard of beach attire?  It can be fashionable

Perhaps one reason I liked Pevney is because I've seen most of his films and most are out of U-I and they were fun B flicks.  He had not worked with Crawford before and there's to be no doubt she treated him like a lapdog.  She would see him as a studio lackey and she had, after all, tripped the light fantastic with the big boss.  Sterling had worked with him once before and this was the fifth of seven collaborations with Chandler.

The supporting cast is wonderful, too.  Kellaway and Schaefer, both cast against type, and Drake as the persistent detective, all shine.  

I did enjoy the story... not perfect but fun.  B films were full of murder mysteries, film noirs and such.  This is just one of them although one thing makes it a tad more interesting than some of the others... hunky, handsome, manly Jeff Chandler playing a sexual role and doing so in few clothes.  Well, I'm glad I got that out of my system.

Here's the trailer...

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Remakes