Word: joans
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Other speakers will include U.S. Senator Edward M. Kennedy '54-'56 (D-Mass.); U.S. Rep. Joseph P. Kennedy II (D-Mass.), chair of the Massachusetts Clinton-Gore campaign; State Representative Joan M. Menard, chair of the Massachusetts Democratic Party; AFL-CIO President John J. Sweeney; and Boston Mayor Thomas Menino...
...ride. Carole Lombard traded quips and punches with her co-stars. Rosalind Russell ran giant corporations from her perch as executive secretary to some very soft plutocrats. Katharine Hepburn, a cool goddess, came to earth to cuddle with Spencer Tracy. Bette Davis strutted her sensationally neurotic hauteur. Joan Crawford played the unapologetic gold digger, which is how she leveled half a dozen other star actresses in The Women. These actresses played characters who didn't need to take revenge. They had sexual equality, emotional superiority...
...view, this is the only heroic violence suitable for a lady--to die with dignity. In the 1932 Three on a Match, society wife Ann Dvorak leaves her loving husband for a small-time gambler, neglects her child and, realizing the error of her ways, kills herself. Best friend Joan Blondell marries the husband, and Bette Davis moves in as nanny. The 1937 Stage Door has an array of dazzlers (including Hepburn and Ginger Rogers) as young actresses angling for Broadway stardom. They fight over powerful men, choice roles and new stockings. And amid the lightning comedy, the most sensitive...
...female audience. For the next 40 years the small screen would be a comfortable home for women stars, from Lucy to Roseanne. Those actresses who stayed in films found themselves playing caricatures. Davis devolved into a harpy, sharing the horrific What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? with Joan Crawford and a rat. Younger actresses took the bimbo route. Both groups were deprived of the intelligence of the '30s, the malefic grandeur of the '40s. Movies were now a man's world. If women wanted to survive as more than sluts or nutty aunts, they had to be as burly...
...Joan Didion's first novel in 12 years offers early on the rather surprising assertion that it is not fictional at all. The second chapter of The Last Thing He Wanted (Knopf; 227 pages; $23) begins, "For the record this is me talking. You know me, or think you do. The not quite omniscient author." This claim that Didion, the journalist and screenwriter, is writing as herself is followed by the news that she had considered giving herself an invented identity and name, to wit "Lilianne Owen," and telling the story under this disguise. That, she adds, didn't work...