When I read Christina Crawford's tell-all of all Hollywood tell-alls, "Mommie Dearest," I remember her writing about not being able to sit through "Queen Bee," since her mother's character in the movie was just too close to that of the real life Joan Crawford. And if this is true, then Christina's childhood must have been hellacious indeed.<br /><br />In this film, the diabolical Eva Phillips, played by Crawford, rips a bedroom to shreds with a riding crop, lassoes a potential bedmate with a telephone cord, gives a young ingénue a wicked smack across the face, and verbally destroys her enemies with lines like, "Don't you look nice  even in those tacky riding clothes." This is Joan at her Joan-iest, and I couldn't help but think that this is the film Faye Dunaway must have studied as she prepared to play Joan in "Mommie Dearest." In fact, watching Crawford in this movie is like watching Crawford playing Dunaway playing Crawford.<br /><br />"Queen Bee" is camp at its highest elevation, with a script full of nasty one-liners that would later become staples of catty nighttime soaps like Dynasty and Dallas. Crawford wears amazing clothes that woosh and crinkle as she glides across the room, and she is accessorized to within an inch of her life in pristine white gloves, sparkling rings and bracelets, and Paris-fashion-week-style hats. Though not as extravagantly dressed as Crawford, the other actors always look like they're ready for an elegant dinner party, even though they never seem to leave the house.<br /><br />It would be easy to dismiss this film as typical 1950s melodramatic drivel, but there's much more to "Queen Bee" than meets the eye. Director-writer Ranald MacDougall creates a claustrophobic atmosphere by staging nearly the entire movie within the boxy confines of the Phillips mansion. The viewer feels trapped, much like the characters that inhabit the house. The movie is filmed in crisp black and white, adding to the rigid tension that permeates the environment. And in one intentional and hilariously symbolic scene, Crawford's character emasculates her husband, played by a morose Barry Sullivan, as he crack walnuts at the dinner table. Joan as the ultimate ball buster.<br /><br />Most of the actors do a competent job, with Betsy Palmer standing out as Carol Phillips, the niece destroyed by Eva's manipulations. Everyone's favorite ape lover, Fay Wray, has a brief, but memorable appearance at the beginning of the movie as a woman so devastated by Eva's wicked ways that she's been forced to retreat into her own fantasy world. John Ireland, as Eva's former lover and Carol's current fiancée, gives the most wooden performance, firing off his dialogue as if he's reciting a Western Union telegram. Crawford rises above it all, however, always commanding the screen with her physical presence (her eyebrows in this one are bigger and blacker than ever), her throaty voice, and her impeccable diction.<br /><br />The film's ending seems rushed and contrived, and the last line of the movie delivered by Sullivan is eye-rollingly corny, but don't let that deter you. If you've always wondered what the real Joan Crawford might have been like, "Queen Bee" just might give you a little glimpse.