Television Acting

Listed below are Joan Crawford’s television roles and films. This list does not include her numerous guest star appearances as herself on television shows like “What’s My Line,” “The Mike Douglas Show,” “The Tonight Show,” “The Tim Conway Comedy Hour,” “Girl Talk,” “The Lucy Show,” and “The Hollywood Palace,” to name a few. It’s nigh high impossible to create a comprehensive list of her work, since Crawford was very active with charities; commercials; print ads; guest star roles on game shows, comedy shows, talk shows and the like; as well as many radio appearances and dramatic and comedy readings that sometimes included recreations of her film roles. In addition, she did a number of shorts such as “WAMPAS Baby Stars of 1926,” “Hollywood Snapshots,” “The Stolen Jools,” and the like during her career. Somehow she found time to also pose for publicity shots and endless photographs -- let's not forget her work for Pepsi as an active board member and ambassadress! This was one busy woman! Reviews of those appearances I've been fortunate enough to see are included beneath the title of the episode or film.

1950's

1. The Revlon Mirror Theater: episode "Because I Love Him" (1953)

I was thrilled to obtain this early television work of Crawford and was especially pleased at seeing her in this medium while she was still relatively young (approximately 47, depending on when you believe she was born). She looks especially beautiful, her delicate bone structure and big, coquettish eyes striking, plus she is trim, demure and petite, her hair thankfully more flattering and soft than the strange dos she often adopted in the 50’s. Her character, Margaret Hughes, a housewife whose doctor (William Ching) informs her that her husband (James Sealy) has only a year to live, gives her ample opportunity to be loving and warm and exude that kittenish charm Crawford possessed that is so alluring. It’s no wonder men went for her like bees to honey (and I’m sure some women, too). Her voice also is especially soft and velvety here. She’s, overall, a sexy, likeable, very charming character.

The plot is the usual melodramatic kitsch and barely five minutes have gone by before Crawford, given the disturbing diagnosis, is all desperate tears and choking voice, doomed to suffer “because [she] love[s] him!” Good grief. Now she has to make this year count for the doomed hubby (who, shades of “Dark Victory,” is not to know he is doomed – someone is always kept in the dark about these things, of course!) Crawford gets to wear some lovely ensembles, suffering always glamorous in Joan World, often recalling “Susan and God” in her facial expressions. It’s clear that she and her doctor are on much warmer terms than most people enjoy with their physicians, indicating an outside friendship. An amusing moment comes when, after learning of the vague fatal disease (damning x-rays – what else?), Crawford delivers this howler, “I ought to send out new invitations [for my party Saturday night]. Make it a combination anniversary – and wake!” Not only is handsome hubby told nothing, the couple seem to discuss little else of major impact, leaving out significant info like – er, he will be dead within a year and er, he knows she told a baby broker (Ellen Corby) to cancel their planned adoption of a boy.

The couple lives in luxury with canopy bed and fireplace in bedroom and Crawford gets to be the sexy "little woman," straightening hubby's tie, although trouble is on the horizon on all fronts. "Madame, if there's any available, I want the last of the stock in this firm," hubby says as they canoodle. "You own it all," she says. But then Margaret is thrown several left curves. The twists in this plot let me down (curses!) and left me unhappy, although I suspected these developments and won't add spoilers here. Amazingly, husbands are always shown to be so unemotional and of few words or is it that Joan could out-act her male co-stars on far too many occasions (true even of Clark Gable in early years)?

In any case, beautiful chance to see Crawford, lovely as she ever was, in her first foray into television drama (as far as I know!)

2. The General Electric Theater: episode "The Road to Edinburgh" (1954)

I appreciate how Crawford tried to create distinct characterizations from relatively thin or well-worn material even if she relied on her stock repertoire of techniques and ample charm. Clearly she was a woman who depended partly on feminine allure for survival; I’m sure that great smile and those eyes aided her often. It certainly helps to have good looks if you’re going to be in front of a camera and the camera exploited hers blatantly, but clearly she was equally concerned with her craft. Here Joan is Mary Andrews, a journalist on the road to Edinburgh who unexpectedly gets a flat. Her Mary seems to be a pleasant, light-hearted woman. There is already humor in how incredibly expressive Crawford is while merely driving as if thousands of light thoughts are dancing through her brain. Sure enough a man (John Sutton) comes along to help the hapless little lady with the tire (what else?) She becomes flirtatious and adorable with her Good Samaritan, recalling her nubile blonde Val in “This Modern Age.” What a coquette!

Laying on the Southern (seemingly) hospitality with a spatula, our gal offers the stranger -- who is a widower, he offers, to her widow – a ride. He accepts the ride, doesn’t accept her open palm hand. Bad call. Already we know this is going to be a bumpy night. Sure enough, they’ve just pulled out onto the deserted road (what else?) at night (what else?) when our Strange Man reveals that he just got out of prison after 17 years – for killing a woman. Uh-oh. He offers to leave the vehicle, but Mary fears that if she pulls over, he will do away with her. Oh – it’s the old dumb situation where our damsel in distress could end her misery easily but chooses to prolong it because she is following a script that requires white-knuckle suspense and blatant foolishness. He also says he’s 42, but looks 50, so already we know he isn't to be trusted.

This is a particularly fun episode with a very sexy exchange between Sutton and Crawford, dialogue dripping with double entendres (all said with a straight face and no trace of irony!)

She: “You know you’re intriguing me.”

He: “As a reporter or as a woman?”

She (giving him the wary Joan eyes): “As a reporter.” (As always, Crawford’s timing is delicious!)

And my favorite when Tall Dark Stranger becomes suddenly randy (out of left field – what else?), saying he hasn’t been close to a woman in 17 years (uh-oh!):

He (moving suddenly closer to her and fondling her face and hair): Beautiful hair.

She (voiceover thought, eyes frantic): I can’t stand this any longer.

He: High cheekbones.

She: I’ll scream if he doesn’t stop!

He: Lovely blue eyes.

She: He wants me to lose my self control. (No, Joan, don’t do that!)

Then our gal picks up an American soldier (Chuck Connors), delighted she’s found help. Actually she now has two strange men in the car instead of one, but it’s Joan – always a triangle!

The script does have its intentional humor, like that sway in the bridge, to levy the tension and it’s such overheated kitsch that like “Female on the Beach,” it’s the kind of guilty pleasure to be watched and savored over and over! Too good!

Ronald Reagan hosts the episode and Sheila O’Brien (of “Sudden Fear”) designed Crawford’s ensemble.

3. The General Electric Theater: episode "Strange Witness" (1958)

This is another episode I anticipated with great relish. It co-stars Joan Crawford with author Thomas Tryon (who wrote “The Other,” for one) and opens provocatively with the couple in a passionate tryst in front of the fireplace. This love scene is notably more torrid than one is used to seeing Joan in the throes of and frankly the fact that her shoes are off is more suggestive and sexy than most graphic scenes; it goes to show how they were pushing the envelope in the 1950’s. Anyway, it becomes quickly established that our heroine, Ruth Marshall, is cheating on her attorney husband John (John McIntire) with David (Tryon). David, needless to say, is no angel. He appears to be somewhat of a heel, after John’s money, as Ruth probably is. John interrupts the love birds and one can well appreciate why Ruth was cheating on him and has cheated on him repeatedly throughout their marriage, as he later tells David. He’s homely and an old fart, to boot. “As a playmate, she’s one thing,” he says of the comely Ruth to David. “As a steady diet, as a wife, she becomes a dangerous and sometimes degrading habit.” (And what is he? Clearly no prize.) My sympathies are with Ruth.

As the storm rages, David abruptly shoots John and now Ruth is in a panic, although David insists that this is what she wanted. As always with a Crawford character, Ruth is essentially human and not good with crime. There is the classic tears-glittering-in-eyes-without-falling that Crawford is so good at. Classic Joan stuff. She is in an absolute panic and quickly David reveals his true colors as a ruthless scoundrel. Meanwhile the doorbell rings and a guest arrives – it’s John’s friend Chris with the sonorous voice (Sidney Blackmer who played Roman Castevet in “Rosemary’s Baby”). This presents a potential threat – with one exception. Chris is blind.

This is a wonderful suspense episode, better written than some of the television fare offered in these vignette programs. Crawford is very pretty here with again, the sexy, kittenish voice, proving her ample allure, and gives a solid, great performance almost reminiscent of her dramatic range in “Possessed” (1947), although confined to the half hour. It’s a great opportunity for her and makes me rue she didn’t do much more television drama.

4. The General Electric Theater: episode "And One Was Loyal" (1959)

These short dramatic TV episodes can be hit or miss, evidently supplied on a weekly crunch, and this one is definitely above average. It's well written and exceptionally well acted with nice production values. I actually had to watch it twice, probably because of a scattered attention span, since it opens at an art gallery with our gal Joan Crawford looking quite glamorous in a mad hat and elegant dress and then shifts to back story. It's fun to see her in those outrageous hats on screen and not just at Pepsi functions. She plays Ann Howard and in this initial appearance, she uses the Continental broad A's that she occasionally adopts to convey society women. She runs into an old acquaintance, George Manson (Tom Helmore), at the gallery and graciously arranges to meet him after the show. George, evidently amazed at her appearance and/or success, reflects on how they originally met.

Apparently George ran across the Howards, a Colonial couple, in the jungles of Asia and had to depend on the kindness of these strangers to put him up. "Do you have any whiskey?" the rough-hewn Roger Howard (Robert Douglas) bellows, a grim foreboding. When George says that he does, he is invited to stay and introduced to Roger's wife Mary, whom he is informed is mute, due to an accident. Crawford shyly makes her appearance, clearly wary of her boisterous husband, looking lovely in her simple attire, her face resembling its look in the late 30's. Here she has a superb tour de force opportunity, as she is introduced to the kindly stranger, obviously hungry and eager for a friend or warm exchange. She reveals a whole progression of thoughts with her face alone as if reflecting on the happy possibilities of the advent of this stranger, her years of silent film experience aiding her beautifully. Her ability to convey so much text without words always amazes me. "You know, for someone who doesn't talk, you communicate remarkably well," George tells her. (I'll say!) In any case, one learns Ann paints and immediately the stranger takes an interest and asks to see her work which she welcomes like a life preserver thrown her way. The two have an immediate bond, he being a writer, Ann's intentions felt without words, Crawford's warmth and charm a sort of natural seduction. At one point, desperate as she is for the milk of human kindness, she takes George's hand lovingly when he invites her to his large house in England with the elderly housekeeper, hinting pointedly that the stay could be indefinite. Having already read the situation between Ann and her husband without yet knowing the worst of it, George has an understanding with this lovely but unfortunate woman who is clearly unhappy.

The extent of the sadistic abuse Ann has suffered at the hands of her husband becomes known as the evening progresses. Eventually George will learn how Ann lost her voice and that she endured four years of hell in her marriage (Crawford's own span with marriages was four years, ironically - when are these ironic coincidences not cropping up in her work?) Anyway, Roger meets his end after a delicious (rubber) snake invades his room (what else?) and he lunges for Ann. The ambiguity is in who was actually responsible for this planted serpent that ultimately led to Roger's death.

This is not only a solid half hour drama with rich and well defined characters, given authenticity by sharp performances, but it is also extremely satisfying. It's a wonderful acting opportunity for Crawford and she acquits herself beautifully. All the longing Joan shows makes the scenes come alive and the furtive, unspoken romance between George and Ann is very touching. She also gets to thrive in a happy ending, beautifully turned out in ankle-strap shoes and elegant dress, her personality sweet and appealing and soft, her voice restored. A wonderful TV opportunity for Crawford and a rewarding half hour of good storytelling.

5. Woman on the Run (1959)

6. On Trial: episode "Strange Witness" (1959)

See above for review.

7. Zane Grey Theatre: episode "Rebel Ranger" (1959)

Crawford’s role as gritty frontier woman Stella Faring, to my mind, is one of her finest pieces of television acting. She is very beautiful with that exquisitely delicate bone structure, but styled naturally here as befits the role, and it allows her character to be unfettered, quiet and developed. In a nutshell, Stella is a widow with a young son, Rob (Don Grady a.k.a. “Chip” on “My Three Sons”) who has come to reclaim her frontier home, but unfortunately, trouble comes in the form of a whole pack of men – one, in particular, Cass Taggart (Scott Forbes), claims to have the deed now and wants her out. But it’s Joan – she ain’t goin’! Oh, Joan, I love you! Long before Gloria Steinem or even Emma Peel on “The Avengers” showed beautiful, capable females who didn’t play the fool, there was Crawford. Without ever losing an ounce of femininity and never short on charm, she makes a wonderful role model – a real rebel on the range, alright! When Taggart grabs her arms threateningly, she merely raises the steaming kettle in return and then goes to the window and says, quietly, “The evening’s come on gentle in this valley” as if in secure possession of her homestead.

After her son shoots Taggert and Taggert mistakenly believes she did it, he says, “What kind of a woman are you?” (a great line) and later as she tends to him in his convalescence, “You sure do a thorough job – shoot a man, bind him up, look after him.” Crawford then says one of my favorite lines in the show: “There’s food for you in the oven – beans and side meat but they’re nourishing!” This not only has a wonderful female heroine portrayed with dignity and moxie, but it’s well written with solid characterizations -- a good portrait of a woman fending for herself alone. There is genuine chemistry between Crawford and Forbes, too. More great dialogue comes in the cheeky exchange regarding Stella’s late husband: “When you’re a woman alone and you’ve never had a home,” Stella says, pointedly, “you’d do most anything to get one. It was a fair trade. I wanted a home and my husband wanted a family.” I can’t blame Taggert for wanting to make a “fair trade” with this sexy pioneer dame.

1960's

1. Zane Grey Theatre: episode "One Must Die" (1961)

Zane Grey Theatre, based originally on the stories of Zane Grey and narrated by Dick Powell, was a fun Western show, nicely produced. Evidently scripts ranged from solid (as with “Rebel Ranger”) to thin going and idiotic, as with this one, but the opportunity to see Joan as twins (one good, one “bad” – what else?) is a blessing from the Joan gods and makes highly entertaining viewing. In fact, the only thing more I could have wanted (oh, we always want more!) is Joan as twins in a feature length film (or two), maybe one circa 1940, her own “A Stolen Life” or something. But, thankfully, we have “One Must Die.”

When John Baylor (Philip Carey) from Boston drives up to the Hobbes homestead on horse-drawn buggy (our gal peeking mischievously out the window), he has a premonition that his life “will never be the same again.” Why would it? We all know what he’s in for. Apparently his father was a good friend of the dying Thaddeus Hobbes (Carol Benton Reid) who wants to leave his entire sizable estate to daughter Sarah, the demure one, and cut out sister Melanie, the “forward” one, entirely. John meets both lasses, Sarah first and Crawford plays the “twins” without changing makeup (as I’ve mentioned elsewhere on my site), wanting to work “from the inside out,” no doubt, as she stated. She obviously relished and dug into this opportunity. Looking incredibly young at age 55 approximately, she makes her Sarah very soft and demure, soft-spoken, doing needlepoint, no less, and yet nonetheless flirtatious. It’s Joan. It’s a good-looking man. Tellingly Sarah gets that ooky spooky look on her face when sister Melanie is mentioned. John seems quite taken with this appealing woman.

Shortly he meets sister Melanie in the library, initially mistaking her for Sarah, since they are dressed identical. (No, it’s not just the Crawford family who wears look-alike clothes!) When Melanie whirls around, she has a different dynamic than the other shy miss. This sister is more confident and bold and immediately I like this one a little more. She recalls the young Joan with a frisky charm that is overt but not gauche. She seems playful. “I like tall men,” she tells John. Both sisters have beautiful Joan eyes, of course (Crawford’s eyes really stand out – I’ve said it a million times and say it again – man, what eyes she had!). Anyway, John gets one good kiss in with Melanie before he puts a stop to her aggressive come-on. Melanie wants the money and the man and has the same weird look when Sarah is mentioned that Sarah had when her name came up.

Strangely enough, other people even get odd when Melanie is mentioned, not wanting to indulge in “gutter gossip” (hello?) and her own father shudders at her name. There is an indication she is kept “locked up” and one wonders if confidence and sexual boldness is seen as a form of insanity in women. But as Melanie confronts her bedridden father, one sees her maniacal side. Crawford goes over-the-top, eyes gleaming, brandishing a riding crop like Eva Phillips in “Queen Bee” and like Eva, she appears to be an odd girl out again, shafted by her own family. At least, that’s as it appears! “Why don’t you die?” she screams at poor daddy.

Oh, this is all delicious fun with a head-spinning, head-scratching resolution! Pet moment: Joan throwing a kerosene lamp! If only Crawford had been given more A roles throughout her career to prove her moxie – she evidently and understandably craved them (and deserved them). As is, she makes B and even Z pics riveting grand fun!

2. The Foxes (1961)

3. Your First Impression: episode (1962)

4. Route 66: episode "Same Picture, Different Frame" (1963)

Gosh, do I miss high quality dramatic shows like “Route 66” which were wholesome and suitable for the whole family, but suspenseful. Of course, I only caught it on reruns, its original air date being in the early 60’s. The stories were more character-based and devoid of gore. Crawford guests as Morgan Harper and yes, she looks good with her trim body and great bones, but she’s clearly pushing sixty, so it causes a chuckle when she’s described as “one of those handsome mid-forty jobs.” Oh, Joan, you never let up, and for that we can all be grateful! Two handsome studs, one blonde, one dark, are regulars on the show and it’s quite amusing when Crawford in jodhpurs gives the dark one, Linc Case (Glenn Corbett) an up and down look – as she’s leading a horse, no less – and gets that spark in her eyes. Basically, Morgan is being terrorized by a scarred mystery man named Eric (Patrick O’Neal). He’s a great villain with dark sunglasses and a big shot gun. Villains always are more effective with scars, sort of symbolic, I suppose, of their damaged psyches – much more menacing if their eyes are covered with shades. In any case, soon Morgan is leaning heavily on the kindness of Linc and giving him the eyes, and he is reciprocating by being her protector.

Crawford invests her many monologues with her all, replete with MGM pronunciations, the latter lending an interesting idiosyncratic touch. There’s a cute sub-plot involving the blond Tab Hunter type, Tod Stiles (Martin Milner) and a 16 year old girl which makes an odd and amusing contrast against his partner’s situation with the much older Crawford. This is another good, solid, dramatic opportunity for Crawford with lots of soft-focus close-ups. She gets to do a long phone monologue (always a strength), ride in a convertible (it’s a prerequisite for being on the show – they all do), bawl, wear opera gloves, and play yet another strong, gutsy, slightly acerbic gal – tough but tender and take charge. A mildly amusing moment is when Linc asks her if she’d like to have dinner with him, saying she must be hungry, and she replies, “Top drawer of the filing cabinet there’s a bottle. Shot glasses should be there, too.” But Joan has the last laugh, because she then refuses both the drink and the dinner invitation. You know how to handle 'em, Joan!

5. Della (1964) a.k.a. Fatal Confinement

This was apparently going to be the pilot for a series called "Royal Bay.” It contains very fine work from Joan Crawford in the title role, a woman named Della Chappel who has had much influence and old money in Royal Bay, but now finds that a corporation, Delta Industries, wants to buy off her land. An arrogant young attorney, Barney Stafford (Paul Burke) comes to her imposing, sequestered residence in the wee hours, at Della’s request, to talk the deal over with her. She says no, but asks him to try to change her mind. Meanwhile, he runs across her ooky-spooky daughter Jenny (Diane Baker) and becomes smitten with her and shortly convinced that her mother is holding her prisoner there, preventing her from a normal life. Jenny encourages this impression by saying, “Mother doesn’t like people much. I think she hates them.” Now Barney has become Della’s opponent, but Della has an iron will.

It’s too bad that Crawford wasn’t being offered film work on a caliber such as this, but at least she found a worthy outlet in television. Not only does she have the opportunity to show her stuff with some very powerfully acted and convincing monologues, but she looks absolutely beautiful and exudes that touch of Old Hollywood glamour and class. My favorite moment in that vein is when she comes into town in Royal Bay, something Della hasn’t done in years apparently according to the script – and man, does Crawford look like all that. She’s chic, carries herself like a queen, has the sleek body, and is wrapped in chinchilla, no less, with opera gloves. Wow. It would’ve been nice to see this woman in a romance with someone, rather than all the focus being on the daughter.

Very good Joan TV mystery/melodrama. And I must say I was not on the side of Delta Industries whatsoever, as the script possibly intended viewers to be. People are squeezed out of their hard-earned properties all too often with eminent domain clauses and I’m in favor of land and preserving history, not overdevelopment. Also it irritated me that the “domineering” woman is seen as an obstacle and nuisance whereas the domineering man as some kind of hero. Meanwhile, thank God for Crawford who holds her own against rooms full of smug, swaggering males and yet remains every inch a lady. She still knows how to be coy and sexy when she asks for a light. In color.

6. The Man From U.N.C.L.E.: episode "The Five Daughters Affair" (1967)

Crawford looks wonderful with her bee-hive and tasteful attire in this “U.N.C.L.E.” episode in which she cries (of course), defies a baddie, throws off some witty lines with absolute panache, and gets dispatched for her pains all too quickly. She’s so good that it makes one rue the way she was criminally wasted as she got older when her emotional power and skill as an actress had ripened. It’s a great kick to see her on one of the best and swingiest of the 60’s spy series! Love the kicky music, too! Miss the excitement of “guest stars” --- in color!

7. Journey to Midnight (1968) (scenes deleted)

8. The Secret Storm (1968)

9. Journey to the Unknown (1969)

Love these horror anthologies that sprang up in the Hammer/Amicus/“Dark Shadows” era, although they ranged in quality and cheese factor! “Journey to the Unknown,” a British production with American guest stars, great scripts and top-rate production values, is not only ghoulishly fun, but far above average, doing justice to the genre. It’s perhaps the best of the best. The executive producer, Joan Harrison, by the by, was an associate of Alfred Hitchcock. Interestingly, the titles look a lot like “Dark Shadows.” As usual, they consist of good, old-fashioned chillers and classic scenarios – the ones here of more psychological bend with intriguing, well-written scripts -- and tongue-in-cheek humor.

Joan Crawford appears as herself, making an extremely attractive hostess. She looks beautiful and well-turned out, as always. Love the beehives on her, highlighting her stunning bone structure. She performs with dignity, having learned to read well during her many radio show experiences, and has a clear sense of humor, playing into the ooky spooky, campy quality of it. Entering into a dark library (“a warehouse of human knowledge,” as she puts it), she lets us know that “even such peaceful places contain unimaginable horrors, especially for women alone.” Yes, I’m sure you know, Joan, having been “menaced” onscreen yourself in plenty of scripts. You can still hear the kittenish, girlish voice from her early years. Love when she says, “I must go now,” looking over her shoulder meaningfully. Too funny.

The first episode stars Joan’s old co-star from “Autumn Leaves,” Vera Miles, as a writer of murder tales who is trapped in a dark, old library and transported into the past when the killer she is researching claimed his fourth victim – a librarian in that same library. Again, it does justice to the fun premise and Miles is kind of cute. The creepy library has been done before and it all began to feel very familiar; in fact, I think I’ve seen this same plot stolen wholesale for another similar horror omnibus. Naturally, the woman goes skulking around in the dark while the homicidal maniac is unleashed, but it’s fun and effectively unnerving and suspenseful.

The second one, even better than the first, features Patty Duke who did her share of horror flicks. (“You’ll Like My Mother” comes to mind.) She barks out her lines like she does in “Valley of the Dolls,” but she’s great in this genre, because she has a sweet face yet a hard, cynical edge. The script was wonderful in this one, another classic, with the girl fresh from a sanitarium being haunted in the “real world” in a seaside setting. Good characters as you try to figure out who the loony is. Joan gets to shiver when she introduces this one! (Oh, Joan, you’re a hoot!) No one can top the Brits! Wish they still made series like this!

10. Night Gallery (1969)

1970's

1. The Virginian: episode "Nightmare" (1970)

I wasn’t familiar with “The Virginian” prior to learning Joan was a guest star, but apparently it was based on a 1901 Owen Wister novel of the same name and was also television’s first feature length Western. It is set in Medicine Bow, Wyoming and stars James Drury in the title role. Anyway, it’s in living color and Joan Crawford looks fabulous, playing Stephanie White, a woman who marries wealthy eligible John (Michael Conrad) and is now in line to inherit his business, a fact that gains her rootin’ tootin’ enemies including an “Injun” woman Natawista (Rachel Rosenthal) who looks like Mr. Bean, the British comedian, in drag and is about as wooden as – well, a wooden Indian nickel! Oh, what a delicious role this is for our gal! She gets to run the gamut from coquettish sexuality (yep, in her sixties at the time, she still definitely had it) to strength to ribald laughter to tears and even do a mad scene, don a gun, and slap someone (all good Joan stuff)! She also thankfully gets kissed by not just one, but two men (one of whom earns the slap after she willingly enough seems to submit to the embrace), ensnared in one of her romantic triangles, this time with believable dignity instead of camp. Stephanie is not your “gal next door” and can shoot and ride as well as cook. Go, Joan!

Crawford demonstrates what an exceedingly beautiful woman she was to the end, interestingly much of her younger “faces” asserting themselves in her older being as if life comes full circle which perhaps it does. At times, especially in the beginning in her becoming ringlets and period attire, she recalls “The Gorgeous Hussy,” other times one sees those beguiling doe eyes from “Our Dancing Daughters.” Against all the big, strapping men on the ranch, she is smoked out as tiny. She wears clothes exceedingly well, even the frontier hats coming off as smart and fashionable on her. Her eyes look blue green and are notably emotional and expressive and huge – like wells. God – does anyone have eyes like that on the screen anymore? Did they ever? Thankfully, television provided – for the most - a dignified outlet for her talent since film had turned her into a caricature, as it did all older actresses.

Once again, our gal is odd woman out, haunted by scandal and trouble. “I’ve never brought luck to any man I ever loved,” she says and sure enough, the men start falling – not just in love, but to tragic ends – left and right and soon she is implicated in murder. A woman with a shady past (what else?), tarot card reading is rumored among her dubious vices! She is called “Steve” by her husband, an affectionate moniker like the one John Wayne gave her (“Mike”) in “Reunion in France.” She tries to defend herself against her detractors (what else?) with dignity (what else?). Acquitting herself nicely in the acting scenes, she particularly “shines,” to use that cliché, in a bedridden scene in which she appears to be genuinely crying as she relays her story (perhaps recalling her loss of Alfred Steele?). Amusingly, however, this touching moment is followed by a schizophrenic burst of diabolical suspicion and rage. Her mad scenes are much more wrought and shameless like something out of “Strait-Jacket.” These men folk are always trying to convince the women folk that they’re unbalanced, ain’t they?

No fear, folks. The Virginian comes to the rescue of the damsel in distress who is no wilting violet in spite of her occasional fragile baleful looks. While getting to run through an entire gamut of emotive highs and lows, plenty of range (no pun intended) and close ups, Joan also gets carried by the Virginian! Great to see! Probably as much fun to play!

2. The Name of the Game: episode "Los Angeles 2017 (1971)

3. Journey to Murder (1971)

4. Beyond the Water's Edge (1972)

5. Night Gallery's Sixth Sense: episode "Dear Joan, We're Going to Scare You to Death" (1972)

Oh, this is so 70's! “Night Gallery” was a fun spooky show narrated by Rod Serling. There’s a cheesy quality about these, yet the special effects are neat – typical made-for-TV quality like “How Awful About Alan,” “Picture Mommy Dead” and “Crowhaven Farm.” When our gal’s car crashes, she finds herself at the mercy of hippie kids like something out of the Manson clan who practice ESP and live in a crumbling mausoleum of a house. That's what happens when kids are home alone! Apparently Joan Fairchild lost her daughter by drowning (“Why did you let me die?” the waterlogged apparition asks) and the bad hippies want to test their ESP powers by scaring Joan to death, knowing full well she has asthma. Can she outwit them? Crawford is older and frailer here, looking obviously ill, yet projects strength, poise and class. She also still has a sexy, kittenish voice. She is overly tense and on edge, her acting a little off, but I take into consideration that she was probably not altogether well. It’s great to see her, anyway! (Joan, you are missed!)