I know it's a mask
I know it's a game
You're a liar
We are all liars
You pretend in front of the world
I know the real you
We're bitter rivals even until the end
We laugh and smile at the world masquerading our feud as trivial matter
However, behind closed doors it's an all out war!
The two halves of you are deliberately parted
If the world knew who you truly are and what you do
All memory of you would be instantly shamed and your good name would be tarnished - forever ruined
I know you; a girl with a humble start
You came from nothing
You've clawed, lied, cheated, and schemed
You've broken hearts and did damage
It's ok; we've all done it at some point in our lives
We are all despicable and wretched souls
You are Joan
I'm Bette
Our feud is so bitter, toxic, and complicated that its intangible yet pure palpable
I don't know how it all will end, all I know is this:
Golden rule of life: never underestimate your rivals.
It was the most notorious cat fight in Hollywood history. In the blue corner, the formidable Bette Davis, and in the red, equally feisty Joan Crawford. Both magnificent actresses on top of their game, both festering with barely concealed hatred for one another. But what could have caused this? Was it mere professional jealousy or something deeper?
A little investigation shows that these two cinematic giants were reduced to duking it out over, what else, a man. Namely, the slightly less legendary, Franchot Tone.
Their claws continued to be out for one another for the remainder of their days, until Joan was the first to pass away from a heart attack. The tragedy did nothing to diminish Davis’ acid tongue; “You should never say bad things about the dead, only good…Joan Crawford is dead. Good.”
Hard to believe their mutual loathing could endure for so long, whether it was love rivalry, or mutual insecurity in such a precarious profession?
The only two who know the answer are Joan Crawford and Bette Davis!
