Sudden Fear

The creepiest moment in SUDDEN FEAR occurs in the first five minutes. An actor onstage recites the lines, “You are all the women in my life. You are the sister I never had, the mother I’ve almost forgotten, the wife I have always dreamed of. There isn’t a relationship you can name which exists between a man and a woman in which I wouldn’t say, ’Let it be you.’” Jack Palance plays the actor. Joan Crawford plays the writer of those cringe-inducing words.

Ms. Crawford goes on to fire Mr. Palance in short order, and it’s in the first act of SUDDEN FEAR that she shines. She plays a driven, hard-bitten woman who knows what she wants and knows how to get it, and I bought her in the role. When she and Palance meet again, I settled in for a battle of titans. Alas, I didn’t get one, for Palance blows Crawford off the screen for the rest of the picture. Palance charms Crawford, you see, and Joan Crawford simply does not do “charmed.” While I believed in Palance’s actions and motives, the only thing I believed about Crawford was that she spent too much time at the makeup counter.

Fortunately, there’s more to SUDDEN FEAR than Joan Crawford. The story is first-class noir; Elmer Bernstein’s score is first rate; and the photography, well, the photography shows us yet again that black and white can suggest silky depths of which color can only dream.

So perhaps the female lead will put you off. But pay no mind, for Jack Palance makes up for it. SUDDEN FEAR may not hold a spot among the elite of the noirs, but it remains a solid entry all the same. It’s just the thing for a long trip.