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Sudden Fear was the last of Joan Crawford’s three Best Actress nominations and, outside of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, was one of her last good movies. Sudden Fear frequently ventures into great film noir territory, and it would have stayed there as well if it wasn’t for Crawford’s occasional dips into movie star megalomania. When she commits to the character she is surprisingly effective, but there are numerous moments when she slips into movie star posturing, namely when she’s clenching her jaw tightly and pulling her facial muscles to look younger and sexier, that hits a wrong note and tone. She gets to play the victim and victimizer, always a perfect combination for the actress to engage in. (Crawford sure did love to put her characters through some intense emotional BDSM, didn’t she?)
Crawford stars as an heiress-turned-playwright. While auditioning for the romantic male lead in her next production, she insults Jack Palance. She deems him too stern and incompatible with her romantic ideal for the role. Naturally, he runs into her again while on a train returning home. Instead of getting off at his stop, he stays on and goes with her back to San Francisco. They court, marry, and he’s now got the cushy life of a high society playboy. All is well until Gloria Grahame enters their world. She’s Palance’s ex-girlfriend, the one he left for Crawford. She wants to scam his new wife out of money, no, better yet. Kill her and get it all. Palance is weak to her femme fatale’s charms and scheming. Grahame and Palance deliver the best performances in the film.
By accidentally leaving a dictating machine on, Crawford learns of the entire plot and decides that she won’t go quietly into that goodnight. She sees and knows each one of their cards, but her poker face is the best of them all. She’ll lie and manipulate her way out of this. She outsmarts them, temporarily falling into the demimonde that Palance and Grahame revel in. Her playwright is smart, and manages to always be at least three steps ahead of them. Her chilly to-do list of revenge schemes is perfectly acted by Crawford. Her quick snapping out of it while hiding in Grahame’s apartment waiting for her chance to shoot Palance is even better.
And Palance, with a face that looks like it was carved out of stone with a hatchet, seemed doomed from the start to make a career out of playing ‘heavies.’ God bless him for it. Telegraphing at the beginning that he wasn’t right for a romantic lead in a fictional play is a nice bit of symbolism. He may come on like Don Juan, but he’s ready to opportunistically strike at any moment. The cinematography, excellent throughout, has a few disturbingly beautiful moments which wash out his features, leaving only his pitch-black hair and slits for eyes and skeletal lips and cheekbones. He looks like a specter of encroaching death.
