Although she is well remembered today, Miriam Hopkins was never what you would call a superstar. The height of her fame was in pre-code, with some success in the screwball comedy era. Most of her career was spent as a character actress, but her apparently huge ego never allowed her to move past those golden years, hense her addition to the stars of the 1930's and 1940's who participated in that notorious genre years later crudely referred to as "hag horror".
I doubt anybody ever went on the Hollywood stars tour to see where she lived, but her Norma Desmond like movie star here is a major stop on that bus ride through Beverly Hills and Bel Aire. She's a delusional lush, injured after a drunken fall down the stairs, and nurse David Garfield is hired by her officious assistant (a tired looking Gale Sondergaard). Before long, Garfield (an obvious drug addict) has taken over Hopkins' life, and by the time she becomes aware of his dangerous personality, it's too late. The body count begins, and the murders are pretty...pretty gruesome that is.
This has no real point other than to give a few visual shocks, some absolutely disgusting. Hopkins continues to chew up the scenery, just as she had done when paired opposite Bette Davis. Garfield doesn't have the spark of his more famous father (John), but Sondergaard gives a wise, almost knowing performance, as if she knew she was the key in preventing this from becoming total trash. The acid trip dreams are fascinating, both visually and as a warning against drug use, but this ranks as an embarrassing Z grade mix of grindhouse slasher horror and the desperation of a delusional diva to keep her name alive, no matter how repulsive the film she's in is.
I doubt anybody ever went on the Hollywood stars tour to see where she lived, but her Norma Desmond like movie star here is a major stop on that bus ride through Beverly Hills and Bel Aire. She's a delusional lush, injured after a drunken fall down the stairs, and nurse David Garfield is hired by her officious assistant (a tired looking Gale Sondergaard). Before long, Garfield (an obvious drug addict) has taken over Hopkins' life, and by the time she becomes aware of his dangerous personality, it's too late. The body count begins, and the murders are pretty...pretty gruesome that is.
This has no real point other than to give a few visual shocks, some absolutely disgusting. Hopkins continues to chew up the scenery, just as she had done when paired opposite Bette Davis. Garfield doesn't have the spark of his more famous father (John), but Sondergaard gives a wise, almost knowing performance, as if she knew she was the key in preventing this from becoming total trash. The acid trip dreams are fascinating, both visually and as a warning against drug use, but this ranks as an embarrassing Z grade mix of grindhouse slasher horror and the desperation of a delusional diva to keep her name alive, no matter how repulsive the film she's in is.