The Women is truly a women's movie -- not a man in sight on screen, and the day's leading women's director, George Cukor, behind the megaphone. No men is quite a feat considering that all of the conversations revolve around them.
Norma Shearer plays the cool-headed saint (God bless her, she holds onto that pride that allows her to leave her cheating husband...yes, some themes are a bit dated), Joan Crawford claws her way to the top, teeth bared, and fast-talking Rosalind Russell tears apart happiness at the slightest chance. Hedda Hopper appropriately plays the gossip columnist, Joan Fontaine is the innocent Shearer-to-be and Paulette Goddard is the seducing Crawford-to-be.
Written by Clare Boothe Luce and Anita Loos (the latter a writing dynamo since 1912 who penned Gentlemen Prefer Blondes), there's enough juicy bites for each of the 130 female speaking parts:
Sylvia: "Then let the story ride; it'll be forgotten in the morning. You remember the awful things they said about what's-her-name before she jumped out the window?"
Peggy: "I think Sylvia's a perfectly dreadful woman and I'm gonna tell her."
Edith: "Oh darling, she can't help it. It's just her tough luck she wasn't born deaf and dumb."
Maggie: "The first man that can think of a good explanation of how he can be in love with his wife and another woman is gonna win that prize they're always giving out in Sweden."
Countess DeLave: "My way, your marriage may not last 'til death, but it's fun while it hangs together."
Countess DeLave: "Isn't it wonderful to see all of our lives so settled...temporarily?"
Mary: "I've had two years to grow claws, Mother. Jungle red."
Crystal: "There's a name for you, ladies, but it isn't used in high society...outside of a kennel."