"Torch Song" has to be seen to be believed. Joan, as Jenny Stewart, apparently a "top" Broadway star, stomps her way through the entire film with as much grace as Godzilla, destroying anything that irritates her - - and EVERYTHING irritates her.
As we watch Jen/Joan careen down this warpath, one gets the odd feeling that Faye Dunaway based her entire "Mommie Dearest" role on Joan's "tour-de-force" performance in "Torched Song" (oh, I'm sorry, "Torch Song").
There are several scenes in this agonizing film where Joan seems bored out of her skull and time just passes as she plays with her pull-down lamp, pushes buttons on some kind of intercom/radio, flops down on the bed and stares at the ceiling -- you know, the sort of riveting moments that keep an audience glued to their seats.
It is a wonder why someone didn't off this character early on in the film, she is so hateful and cruel and obnoxious. And yet, based on information I heard directly from the writer of a once top-rated TV show, there are actresses (and actors) who really are as horrid as the vicious fang-baring demon that Joan portrays in this hideous laughfest.
One of the fun things about this movie is every time you see Joan she's in a new outfit. Some of them are horrifying, like her hangover-halting canary yellow robe. Others clearly show off her girlish waist and great gams. But no matter what she's wearing, her face looks like it could scare the Russian Army straight to Siberia, non-stop, running through the snow in their bare feet if it would help get them there faster.
The big "reveal" at the end is so absolutely pathetic as to be laughable. We're asked to believe that because Mike Wilding as Tye Graham can't "see" his hot blonde fellow musician (because he lost his sight in WWII), that he could never love her (even though she's younger, prettier, sweeter and a BILLION times better for him than "Jenny"). We're asked to believe that because Tye saw Jenny in a musical right before he left for the war (which even she admits she wasn't that good in) and reviewed it for a newspaper, that, somehow, seven years later, she will find it in her big charcoal black heart to "love" him. Why would she? Why would he want to love her? It's all fabricated and insane. And to add an extra cherry on top of the sundae, we're asked to believe that even though he was a journalist, went to war, then came back blind, now he is suddenly a brilliant pianist who knows every note of every song Jenny is going to (lip-synch) sing, even though it's a new show with new songs that the public hasn't heard yet -- songs that he already has memorized (because Jenny's former MD, who could not STAND her, "teaches" Mike the songs).
Right.
Then we have Gig Young. Why is he in this movie? He's a drunken sod and Jenny seems to keep him around just so she can insult him. He serves absolutely no other purpose. Then, as another reviewer points out, he vanishes mid-way through the film, never to be seen again. No great loss.
Probably the most exciting scene is when Jenny decides to throw a party on a Sunday night after a week of grueling rehearsals because she has her eye on Tye and wants to get to "know" him better. All the other "guests" at the party are men. Pay attention: It is so unbelievably and shockingly gay it is hard to believe it got past the censors. Jenny specifically asks for Tye to "entertain" that night--but Tye is "busy" (this INFURIATES her), so instead some gorgeous hot young black man with a honeyed-voice shows up and sings instead. He's cute for sure, and one of the male guests leans on the piano, mesmerized by his voice (and probably what's under his tuxedo).
Then, when Jenny learns that Tye isn't going to come to the party, she tells her agent (in the privacy of her bedroom--which looks like it was lifted off the set of "Twilight Zone") to get everyone "out" of her apartment "now." He walks out and five seconds later you can hear the party stop instantly as she sits in cold stone silence on her bed. It is so sad and stupid.
Then the ending, when, after "discovering" the review that Tye wrote about her, Jenny "realizes" that all this time he had been trying to tell her that he loved her, she rushes to his absolutely fabulous gorgeous perfectly appointed apartment and (apparently) tells his blonde sycophant wannabe-girlfriend to get lost (all very subtly actually). Then Mike and Joan have their absolutely unbelievable moment of "human warmth," make asinine jokes about his seeing-eye dog, and then kiss each other with all the excitement of two mannequins on Prozac.
The entire film is washed in jarring Technicolor "colors" that resemble "reality" as much as I resemble Brad Pitt (and honey, trust me, I DON'T), and unfortunately Joan comes off as some kind of monstrous drag queen.
The last thing that drove me insane through this must-see disaster is Joan's "hair." I don't know who determined that this "cut" was going to "work" for Joan, but she looks like someone rooted around Mamie Eisenhower's hamper and dug out a used wig with ghastly tight curls and bangs and swirls, giving her the look of either a former lobotomy patient or a 50's overpriced dominatrix.
I really don't know what anyone was trying to "say" with this film, but trust me, whatever it is, it can't possibly compare to when Joan orders "Lobster Newburg and coffee" -- now THAT is saying something (even if it's pathetic)!
As we watch Jen/Joan careen down this warpath, one gets the odd feeling that Faye Dunaway based her entire "Mommie Dearest" role on Joan's "tour-de-force" performance in "Torched Song" (oh, I'm sorry, "Torch Song").
There are several scenes in this agonizing film where Joan seems bored out of her skull and time just passes as she plays with her pull-down lamp, pushes buttons on some kind of intercom/radio, flops down on the bed and stares at the ceiling -- you know, the sort of riveting moments that keep an audience glued to their seats.
It is a wonder why someone didn't off this character early on in the film, she is so hateful and cruel and obnoxious. And yet, based on information I heard directly from the writer of a once top-rated TV show, there are actresses (and actors) who really are as horrid as the vicious fang-baring demon that Joan portrays in this hideous laughfest.
One of the fun things about this movie is every time you see Joan she's in a new outfit. Some of them are horrifying, like her hangover-halting canary yellow robe. Others clearly show off her girlish waist and great gams. But no matter what she's wearing, her face looks like it could scare the Russian Army straight to Siberia, non-stop, running through the snow in their bare feet if it would help get them there faster.
The big "reveal" at the end is so absolutely pathetic as to be laughable. We're asked to believe that because Mike Wilding as Tye Graham can't "see" his hot blonde fellow musician (because he lost his sight in WWII), that he could never love her (even though she's younger, prettier, sweeter and a BILLION times better for him than "Jenny"). We're asked to believe that because Tye saw Jenny in a musical right before he left for the war (which even she admits she wasn't that good in) and reviewed it for a newspaper, that, somehow, seven years later, she will find it in her big charcoal black heart to "love" him. Why would she? Why would he want to love her? It's all fabricated and insane. And to add an extra cherry on top of the sundae, we're asked to believe that even though he was a journalist, went to war, then came back blind, now he is suddenly a brilliant pianist who knows every note of every song Jenny is going to (lip-synch) sing, even though it's a new show with new songs that the public hasn't heard yet -- songs that he already has memorized (because Jenny's former MD, who could not STAND her, "teaches" Mike the songs).
Right.
Then we have Gig Young. Why is he in this movie? He's a drunken sod and Jenny seems to keep him around just so she can insult him. He serves absolutely no other purpose. Then, as another reviewer points out, he vanishes mid-way through the film, never to be seen again. No great loss.
Probably the most exciting scene is when Jenny decides to throw a party on a Sunday night after a week of grueling rehearsals because she has her eye on Tye and wants to get to "know" him better. All the other "guests" at the party are men. Pay attention: It is so unbelievably and shockingly gay it is hard to believe it got past the censors. Jenny specifically asks for Tye to "entertain" that night--but Tye is "busy" (this INFURIATES her), so instead some gorgeous hot young black man with a honeyed-voice shows up and sings instead. He's cute for sure, and one of the male guests leans on the piano, mesmerized by his voice (and probably what's under his tuxedo).
Then, when Jenny learns that Tye isn't going to come to the party, she tells her agent (in the privacy of her bedroom--which looks like it was lifted off the set of "Twilight Zone") to get everyone "out" of her apartment "now." He walks out and five seconds later you can hear the party stop instantly as she sits in cold stone silence on her bed. It is so sad and stupid.
Then the ending, when, after "discovering" the review that Tye wrote about her, Jenny "realizes" that all this time he had been trying to tell her that he loved her, she rushes to his absolutely fabulous gorgeous perfectly appointed apartment and (apparently) tells his blonde sycophant wannabe-girlfriend to get lost (all very subtly actually). Then Mike and Joan have their absolutely unbelievable moment of "human warmth," make asinine jokes about his seeing-eye dog, and then kiss each other with all the excitement of two mannequins on Prozac.
The entire film is washed in jarring Technicolor "colors" that resemble "reality" as much as I resemble Brad Pitt (and honey, trust me, I DON'T), and unfortunately Joan comes off as some kind of monstrous drag queen.
The last thing that drove me insane through this must-see disaster is Joan's "hair." I don't know who determined that this "cut" was going to "work" for Joan, but she looks like someone rooted around Mamie Eisenhower's hamper and dug out a used wig with ghastly tight curls and bangs and swirls, giving her the look of either a former lobotomy patient or a 50's overpriced dominatrix.
I really don't know what anyone was trying to "say" with this film, but trust me, whatever it is, it can't possibly compare to when Joan orders "Lobster Newburg and coffee" -- now THAT is saying something (even if it's pathetic)!