Any film that takes place behind the walls of a psychiatric hospital is usually a prime candidate for Cool Cinema Trash status. Movies like Shock Corridor and The Caretakers (both from 1963) as well as the Patty Duke loony bin sequence from Valley of the Dolls (1968) are always good for a laugh. But none can quite compare to The Cobweb (1955) a cuckoo classic in which the doctors and patients go bananas over a set of library drapes. Yes, you read correctly… a set of drapes.

After the deliciously overwrought main theme by Leonard Rosenman, The Cobweb kicks off with a reference to its literary origins. "The trouble began…" artfully scrolls across the screen as sultry Gloria Grahame picks up angsty John Kerr by the side of the road. "Artists are better off dead," he mumbles with all the method intensity of a young James Dean, "I'm out of touch with reality."

It's clear that he's an escapee from the local mental hospital. As the continue up the driveway of the clinic, Kerr mentions that, "Everybody's tilted here. You can't tell the patients from the doctors."

"But I can," Grahame insists, "The patients get better."

As we'll soon see, she's not far from the truth as the rest of the all-star cast is quickly introduced. Dr. Richard Widmark talks with a female patient (Jarma Lewis) who is so predatory and butch, that she's practically a lesbian pulp novel brought to life. Suave Dr. Charles Boyer deals calmly with patients as well as tightly-wound hospital administrator Lillian Gish, who is busy selecting new drapes for the library.

The salesman wants to make sure she's happy with her final selection. "What's all this concern with my being happy?" she grumbles. "I have no intention of dancing through the hall, shrieking with laughter because we're changing a set of drapes."

You may not be, but everyone else soon will.

Grahame mistakenly interrupts her husband's therapy session with Kerr. "What is she?!" he bellows at Widmark, "A nymphomaniac or something?" Widmark make a weak attempt at Freudian analysis, but it's no use. "What a collection of junky platitudes," Kerr grumbles.

When Widmark arrives home, Grahame attempts to share her thoughts about the hospital drapes (Chippendale rose on antique satin) but it's clear that there are cracks in the façade of their suburban idyll. Widmark's only concern is for his patients. "Give me one ounce of the attention you give them," Grahame complains, "Day and night!"

At the patients self-government meeting, it's suggested that Kerr design the new curtains with the help of occupational therapist Lauren Bacall. At the same time, Grahame has a hilariously heated telephone conversation with Gish about the drapes, the result being that each goes a head with her own plans. At the symphony, Grahame finds an ally in Boyer. She pours on the Southern charm while he woos her with his flirtatious French demeanor.

The whole hospital is abuzz when Kerr hands in his drapery designs. Fellow patient Oscar Levant dubs him the "Cézanne of the psychos". The boost in confidence allows Kerr to ask Susan Strasberg to the movies, but since she's phobic, she'll need some time to work up to the idea.

Widmark visits widow Bacall at her shabby apartment. They discuss their patients and, of course, the drapes. He then pays Gish a visit. With her wig askew, she lets him have it, but he doesn't back down from her bullying and insists that the patients finish the curtain project as part of their therapy. Next, Widmark must set his wife straight, "I'm sick of the whole thing," she pouts. "I don't care if they never go up."

Their marital woes go far beyond the dramatic drapery issue. "You don't make me feel like a woman!" she cries.

After sending a memo to all concerned about canceling the drapes, Boyer arrives at Graham's suburban home with one thing on his mind. He is genuinely shocked when she resists his adulterous advances, "You make it sound so sorted."

Kerr's reaction is predictably overwrought when word of the memo reaches him. "Maybe if the staff could settle it's problems," one loony suggests, "The patients could settle theirs."

All the controversy has driven Boyer to drink. After holing himself up in a seedy motel room, he calls Gish and plans a power grab at the upcoming board of trustees meeting. "We're going to fight, this is the showdown."

Meanwhile, love is in the air for Kerr and Strasberg who spend a pleasant night at the movies. Love is also in the cards for Bacall and Widmark, who have defied orders and spent all night silk-screening the fabric for the patient's new drapes. Rebelling against authority is apparently a real turn on and they finally give in to their prurient urges.

Grahame, desperate to talk with Widmark, does some telephone sleuthing and discovers that her husband is with Bacall. In a mad frenzy of revenge, she loads her silk drapes into the family station wagon and speeds to the clinic. Under the cover of night, she rips down the old drapes and puts up the new ones as the film score pounds away the melodramatic significance of it all.

When Widmark sees the drapes, he tears them down, but the damage has already been done. Kerr has gone missing and chaos has descended upon the hospital as the patients hold a rambunctious funeral wake with music, drinking and dancing. Since Kerr is a loony, the authorities suspect that he's tried to commit suicide and a huge search operation is soon underway. While the river is dragged for Kerr's body, Widmark can't help but romance Bacall, "I was dead for a long time, now I'm alive."

Blink and you'll miss Fay Wray as Boyer's long-suffering wife. She is distraught over a scathing report penned by Gish that details her husband's drunken and disorderly ways. If the board sees it, he'll surely lose his position.

Amazingly, more than five minutes of screen have passed without mentioning the you-know-what. Oops, spoke too soon.

At the board meeting, Widmark takes a moment to synopsize the dramatic goings on, "Out of our needs and our passions we've spun a human cobweb." Gish needn't have bothered with her report as Boyer takes the opportunity to hand in his resignation.

As the film draws to a close, the script chooses to address the marital issues between Widmark and Grahame by simply not addressing them at all. Since their reconciliation is a foregone conclusion (did you think Widmark would actually end up with Bacall?) the bulk of the drama occurs off screen. Hilariously, we come upon husband and wife in mid-scene, standing on a particularly unconvincing studio set that's supposed to be the rustic countryside surrounding the hospital. Apparently, they've solved all their problems with a single conversation. "We've covered a lot of ground for two people who've forgotten how to talk to each other."

When they pull into their driveway, they find a disheveled Kerr waiting for them. "You ever almost drown yourself?" he asks as they bring him inside. As he nods off, he can't help but notice that the blankets they've wrapped him in are the drapes that have caused all the turmoil. "I seem to keep running into these things."

"The trouble was over…"

Amazingly, The Cobweb tries to present the idea that it isn't really about draperies, but about the human condition. As Richard Widmark's character tries to explain, the change of the library curtains is merely the inciting incident that sets into motion a tangled and emotional web of complex human interaction.

Yeah, right. It's ALL about the drapes!

There's hardly a scene that goes by in The Cobweb where the characters don't mention the dreaded drapes at least a half a dozen times. In fact, The Cobweb would make the perfect drinking game. Just take a shot every time a character says the word "drapes". Anyone playing is guaranteed to be rushed to the hospital for blood alcohol poisoning before the movie is over.

They say that there are no new stories, and they may be right. Once you've seen the The Cobweb, you can safely say that you've experienced the one film there is about the fanatical pursuit of window coverings.

Sadly, The Cobweb is only occasionally shown on TV and has never been made available on VHS or DVD.

CCT also recommends:

The Caretakers

Shock Corrdior

Not As A Stranger

If renting movies is for you, try Netflix. They stock most of the movies CCT recommends.