Director: Frank Perry
Year Released: 1981
This harsh condemnation of über-diva Joan Crawford by her adopted daughter is more or less a "greatest hits" compilation of Joan's supposedly most insane moments, like destroying her own yard, tormenting her lovers and house-help and having conniptions over clothing hung on wire hangers. Whether this is all grand exaggeration is up for debate, but the prevailing point about fame's effects on psychology still pertains today - gossip mags and websites give hints about the excess, the self-congratulation and ridiculous pettiness of modern-day celebrities, their extravagant lifestyles and their mental distance from the rest of the world. Still, bitter slap at Hollywood aside, the picture's set-up is achingly simple: Joan is perpetually the aggressor and her children are perpetually the victims, and just when you think Crawford is going to become human, well ... she doesn't. I can imagine similar stories being written by some of today's celeb kids in the future - I'm quite certain Suri Cruise will one day have enough material on her Xenu-loving father for "Daddy Dearest."