Fans of great "bad movies" should lap this up like a bowl of frosting. Loosely based on the Lana Turner-Johnny Stompanato-Cheryl Crane murder incident, Harold Robbins fashioned a novel to cash in on and exploit the gossipy tale. This resultant film carries on the tradition in high, campy style complete with hilarious "racy" dialogue, glamorously sanitized sexual shenanigans, concerned social workers, over the top sets and decor and signature Edith Head costumes. Velvet-voiced crooner Jack Jones (later to be immortalized as the pipes heard in "The Love Boat" theme song) kicks off the film with a yummy title song against dreamy shots of San Francisco. Hayward stars as a socialite sculptress who finds herself paired with WWII hero Conners. Her gorgon-like mother (Davis) steers them toward marriage, yet, when Conners doesn't do her bidding, pulls out all the stops to destroy the union and press for a divorce. The marriage does produce a daughter (Heatherton) who, years later, finds herself in juvenile hall after filleting one of Hayward's live-in lovers. Though the tale spans twenty years, Conners and Hayward (and Davis!) look exactly the same throughout. The hair, clothes and furnishings show no evolution, nor any feel for the period. (Hayward has her customary bouffant bubble 'do which she wore in virtually every film from the '50's on, no matter what the time, place or character!) Hayward frets and yells and suffers while draped in fur accented suits (or sometimes in her uproarious sculpting scarves) with her bizarre accent fully in place. Somewhat paunchy Davis sashays around in her pretty concoctions, wearing an intriguing grey wig and doling out orders. At times she resembles her old nemesis Joan Crawford and one could easily picture her in the part as well. Conners does all right, though no matter what histrionics he could come up with, there's no room for him in this film. The battle royale is between Hayward and Davis. Davis was already miffed at Hayward for just having remade "Dark Victory" as "The Stolen Hours". Then there were differences over the script with Davis reworking scenes until finally Hayward pulled her weight and demanded that the script be shot as originally written (which was no Pulitzer Prize winner.) Later, Davis had yet another battle (which she won) over how her character's fate should be played out. The animosity between these two women is palpable. Amid all the soapy trappings and turgid dramatics, there is some really hateful fire and some awesomely bitter moments between them, which are fun to behold. Anyone wanting to get plastered should do a shot every time one note Heatherton whines the word "Daddy". Nearly twenty belts of booze ought to do anyone in! She is hilariously bratty and annoying, though she does get some decent licks in, notably in a scene with Seymour. Greer shows up as a sympathetic and concerned case worker. She holds her own with dignity against the fire-breathing Hayward. The dialogue is riotous throughout with some lines actually eliciting guffaws. The lawyer has a great one about the deceased and his relationships with the mother-daughter team, "He wasn't any good at double entry bookkeeping, but he was great at double entry housekeeping". "Star Trek" fans will be startled to see Kelley in a film like this, referring to the bedroom habits of Hayward. In the source novel, Davis' character comes across far more sympathetically, though that may not have been as interesting for the cinema. Also, Conners' character had a devoted second wife who was carrying his child. Most of the novel's plot line made it to the screen, however, though the film's ending is far less happy. There's very little resembling reality in this movie, but thank God for it. It's a glossy, pseudo-sordid potpourri of theatrics and glitz with occasional verbal fireworks.
