The unconvincing romance between an older woman and a younger man in "Autumn Leaves" might have been improved with different casting. Unfortunately, credibility is strained beyond the breaking point when a young Cliff Robertson supposedly falls for the explicitly mature Joan Crawford. Crawford's age is not the critical problem, but her makeup, coiffure, and hard character certainly are drawbacks to affection. Crawford's ominous black eyebrows and mannish hair would have intimidated Attila the Hun. Although only 19 years separated the two actors, Robertson seems younger than his years, while Crawford appears much older than hers. A softer, warmer actress such as Jane Wyman or Loretta Young might have made this melodramatic fluff more compelling.
Despite the miscasting, Crawford offers a brave performance and perhaps realized the absurdity of her role. She is strong and independent in the mold of Mildred Pierce and not the nurturing maternal woman that young Robertson needs. Cliff Robertson, however, is quite effective and convincing as the handsome suitor with a ton of baggage that begins to spill out soon after he has captured Crawford's affections. Hinting at his later success as "Charley," Robertson shows range in his performance that evolves from the appealing boyish stranger, who works his way into Crawford's life, to the enigmatic husband, whose personality cracks widen into chasms. Unfortunately, dated mumbo-jumbo about psychiatric treatment and Freudian malarkey about incestuous relationships further destroy what little credence the melodramatic proceedings retain.
Fans of Joan Crawford will likely revel in her performance here, because she displays all of her trademarks from the thick eyebrows to the teary-eyed self-sacrifice. While not at the level of camp, "Autumn Leaves" does get the eyes rolling at times, and the syrupy title song, which is echoed during the film and reprised at the end, will provoke a gag reflex in sensitive viewers. However, the pleasures of watching Cliff Robertson at the beginning of his career and a wonderful Ruth Donnelly nearing the end of hers may be enough to warrant a viewing. For Crawford devotees, however, "Autumn Leaves" is essential.
Despite the miscasting, Crawford offers a brave performance and perhaps realized the absurdity of her role. She is strong and independent in the mold of Mildred Pierce and not the nurturing maternal woman that young Robertson needs. Cliff Robertson, however, is quite effective and convincing as the handsome suitor with a ton of baggage that begins to spill out soon after he has captured Crawford's affections. Hinting at his later success as "Charley," Robertson shows range in his performance that evolves from the appealing boyish stranger, who works his way into Crawford's life, to the enigmatic husband, whose personality cracks widen into chasms. Unfortunately, dated mumbo-jumbo about psychiatric treatment and Freudian malarkey about incestuous relationships further destroy what little credence the melodramatic proceedings retain.
Fans of Joan Crawford will likely revel in her performance here, because she displays all of her trademarks from the thick eyebrows to the teary-eyed self-sacrifice. While not at the level of camp, "Autumn Leaves" does get the eyes rolling at times, and the syrupy title song, which is echoed during the film and reprised at the end, will provoke a gag reflex in sensitive viewers. However, the pleasures of watching Cliff Robertson at the beginning of his career and a wonderful Ruth Donnelly nearing the end of hers may be enough to warrant a viewing. For Crawford devotees, however, "Autumn Leaves" is essential.