How others will see it. This entertaining look at backstage Hollywood production during the contract player era has its share of dramatic moments, but it is remarkably pleasing to watch, and any fan of classic cinema will enjoy watching the quality cast operate.
How I felt about it. The seques are seamless between the past and present, and between the stories of Turner, Powell, and amiable director Barry Sullivan. These episodes all have a similar pattern: Shields befriends the client, works closely with them, then betrays their confidence.
Much of the film's obvious charm has to do with the cast. Douglas plays something of a scoundrel, who will manuever behind someone's back against them if it suits his interest, which is usually synonymous with the current production of his prestige picture studio.
But he's not all bad, of course, and some of his friends hang with him through thick and thin, notably financial officer Walter Pidgeon (stately as always) and advisor Paul Stewart.
Kirk Douglas is an engaging actor, similar to James Cagney in that he can be charming, cunning, or obsessive, depending upon what the scene requires. He doesn't quite have the intensity of Cagney, but this is only a difference in style, and not a fault on either player.
Among supporting roles, Dick Powell is a standout as a wry but not bitter writer. Powell, of course, first became famous with 1930s musicals, where he did his share of open-throated warbling, and made romantic faces to a parade of lovely, overdressed showgirls. In a splendid career revival, he dumped his matinee idol past, and re-invented himself as an amusing and laconic character, often a private eye.
His onscreen wife, Gloria Grahame, has another wonderful role. Grahame was a star, but usually played somewhat distant characters. In The Bad and the Beautiful, she is glamorous, but she is also a vivacious, spoiled, and endearingly childlike southern belle. It's good casting against her usual type.