STRAIT-JACKET (Columbia 1964) Sony Home Entertainment

By 1964, Joan Crawford’s career had effectively run its course. If only someone had informed la Crawford of it.  Foolish, actually, to do so. Having built her reputation first, as the embodiment of the devil-may-care flapper in the silent era; then, as the ever put-upon shop girl who makes good in the 1930's, and finally, as the supremely martyred femme fatale of the late 1040’s and early 50’s, Crawford had rounded out her popularity on a high note with Whatever Happened To Baby Jane? (1962). Ostensibly, she should have known when to quit. Alas, the word ‘quit’ was an anathema for this warhorse workaholic. Even more tragic, Crawford in her later years appears to have suffered from the sad-eyed affliction of refusing to believe she was growing older.  The notion that the passing parade would eventually ‘pass’ her by, was hateful. And with each film assignment accepted after 1950, Crawford became increasingly territorial as to what she would allow her female costars to get away with on the set. Demanding and occasionally cruel, Crawford’s determination to remain a star was getting the better of her. Unable to see beyond the horizon of her own twilight in pictures, Crawford began accepting roles in highly questionable movies that did little to satisfy her artistic integrity, and very much more to ruin her image as the once uber-glamorous movie star from Hollywood’s golden age.

Of this latter ilk, emerged William Castle’s Strait Jacket (1964), a brutally tacky flick of the grand dame guignol class, that aspired to the hem of Baby Jane’s undergarments, but tragically ended up with skid marks and droppings left inside its crinoline instead. Crawford is Lucy Harbin, a patient released from the state mental ward for the criminally insane after serving her tenure for the brutal crime of murder. Seems Lucy came home one evening twenty-years before to find her husband and his young paramour in bed together. The discovery sent her over the edge and she hacked the two lovers to pieces with an axe; a crime of passion, witnessed by her then three-year-old daughter, Carol. Now, Carol (Diane Baker) is all grown up and living with her fashionable friends; married couple Bill Cutler (Leif Erickson) and his wife, Emily (Rochelle Hudson). But a dark sense of déjà vu begins to develop almost from the moment Lucy arrives at the Cutler’s home. Carol encourages her frumpy – and still shell-shocked – mother to don a series of unflattering black wigs and squeezes her into tight-fitted dresses that accentuate her still reasonably toned female form.

Lucy mistakes Carol’s interest in her attire as a way of invigorating her positive mental outlook. But Lucy’s doctors are not at all convinced she is ready to reenter the mainstream. Their suspicions appear to be confirmed after the hacked body of the Cutler’s hired man (George Kennedy) is discovered in an abandoned field. As the body count rises with a series of like-minded axe murders, Lucy becomes the prime suspect. But did she really commit these crimes? Director William Castle – often described by film scholars as the ‘road show Hitchcock’ - is up to his armpits in bloody carnage, most of it thankfully inferred or illustrated in half-shadows. There was a point in Crawford’s sagging career when, despite appearing in questionable material, no one could suggest the star was not giving the part her absolute all. But in Strait Jacket the lather worked up by Crawford’s supposedly psycho-mama is of the ‘phone in’ quality or lack thereof, lumbering about under a rather pedestrian screenplay by Robert Bloch (of Psycho fame). Poor production values aside, Strait Jacket is terribly third-rate. The dramatic lulls between chopping-fests are mere filler at best. Reportedly, Diane Baker’s part was dramatically altered at Crawford’s behest when it looked as though the final cut might favor Baker’s role over her own. Whatever these alterations, it is highly unlikely they impacted the picture’s staying power in any sincere way. Today, Strait Jacket is regarded as cult camp. But actually, it’s just a lot of schlock and nonsense with an A-list star given D-grade tripe to perform.  

Sony Home Entertainment’s DVD is adequate, but not outstanding. The B&W elements are in reasonable shape, though age-related artifacts and a hint of pixelization make for an image that is, at times, not very smooth. Tonality is fine as are contrast levels. Blacks are deep. Whites are usually clean. Fine details are lost under a slight patina of soft focus and haze. The audio is mono but adequately represented. There are NO extras.

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

2

VIDEO/AUDIO

3

EXTRAS

0