Author Scott Eyman is the king of the old-school movie star biography. In earlier years, he has written about John Wayne; Charlie Chaplin; and about the friendship between Jimmy Stewart and Henry Fonda, among others. When I saw that he’d written a biography about Joan Crawford, I was ready to read it, even though my interest in this actress would not ordinarily extend to the nearly 500 pages he spends on her; I already knew that when Eyman writes a biography, it will usually be lengthy, and not a single word will be wasted.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Simon and Schuster for the invitation to read and review; this book is for sale now.

Crawford was born Lucille LeSueur in a tiny town in Oklahoma. Her date of birth is uncertain, but is guessed to be in 1905. In later years, she would remember her childhood as joyless; her mother was ready to cut the apron strings while Lucille was still a teen. California beckoned, and Lucille—soon to become Joan—went. Director Joseph Mankiewitz remembered her as being “the definitive star from the advent of sound through the war.” Crawford was devoid of diva behavior, and possessed of a matchless work ethic. There is, of course, far too much to detail in this review, but this biography is full of choice anecdotes I’ve never seen before, and here’s a sample, which tells of a magic moment between Crawford and actor Robert Montgomery, with whom she was playing a love scene:

“When Montgomery slid his tongue into her mouth, Crawford first bit down on his tongue, then inquired sweetly about Montgomery’s wife: ‘How is dear Betty and when is the baby due?’”

I was curious about Crawford’s relationship with actress Bette Davis, who is one of my favorites of that generation. After reading what Eyman has to say, I must conclude that, while Davis was more entertaining to watch on the screen, Crawford was a better person.

In 1978, one of Crawford’s adopted daughters wrote a scathing tell-all book titled Mommie Dearest. I read it, and I am ashamed to admit that I believed it. Such naivete, my assuming that if it wasn’t true, it wouldn’t have found a publisher! Eyman has convinced me that the whole thing is a pack of vicious lies. Go figure!

For me, the secret to appreciating one of this author’s epic biographies is not to rush, and so I took my time with it, and I’m terribly late. Nonetheless, I recommend this book to you wholeheartedly if you enjoy this genre. The research is thorough and above reproach, and the writing is outstanding.