Before She Died, Lucille Ball Exposed the 7 Actresses Who Were Actually EVIL HT

Oh, her warning. Yeah, this is a girl who says that man is trouble.  It did happen to me and it was a he and I went right ahead and married the guy and it was Garrett. Everyone knew Lucille Ball as the brilliant redhead who built Desoloo Studios and shaped television with I Love Lucy.

But Power gave her something else. A front row seat to behavior the public never saw. Before she died, she exposed seven actresses she said were truly evil. Not in movies, but in real life. Some were her co-stars. Some were Hollywood icons worshiped worldwide. And every one of them left Lucy with a story darker than the last. Joan Crawford, the ice queen who terrified Lucille Ball.

Lucille Ball met many difficult actresses in her life, but no one shook her more than Joan Crawford. People saw Crawford as a glamorous legend, the face of old Hollywood elegance. But Lucille saw something completely different. A woman who hid cruelty behind diamonds and perfect posture. Crawford was the one who made Lucille say quietly to a friend, “All she has is glamour. Underneath is nothing but ice.

” The turning point came in 1971 during Crawford’s guest appearance on Here’s Lucy. From the moment she arrived, Lucille felt the temperature shift, literally and emotionally. Crawford demanded the studio be kept exactly at 68°, that her chair be angled at a specific degree, and that lighting be adjusted to her bone structure.

Lucille didn’t even object. What bothered her came next. A young wardrobe assistant, only 22, brought Crawford a dress with a barely visible wrinkle. Crawford didn’t correct the mistake. She destroyed the girl. Witnesses heard her hiss, “You’re a useless little nothing. Toilets would be lucky to have you.

” The girl fled in tears. Crawford demanded she be fired on the spot. Lucille refused, and that refusal marked the start of her private hatred. Cameras rolled and Crawford transformed instantly, charming, gracious, sparkling. The moment the red light turned off, she froze again like a mannequin switching modes.

Lucille whispered later, “I’ve worked with department store mannequins who felt more human.” To her, that was a diagnosis. Crawford wasn’t just cold. She was performing humanity, not living it. Lucille believed cruelty toward powerless people revealed a person’s true character. And Crawford, in her eyes, failed that test completely.

Joan Crawford remained until Lucille’s final days. The woman she considered truly, unmistakably evil. Judy Garland, the beautiful chaos. Lucille Ball couldn’t forgive. Lucille Ball never sugarcoated her feelings about Judy Garland. The moment Garland’s name came up, Lucille’s expression changed, not with hatred, but with a hard, exhausted disappointment.

Her darkness came from somewhere softer, but far more destructive. Chaos that swallowed everyone around her. Lucille had known Judy since their MGM days. She admired her voice, her soul, her tragic brilliance. But she also witnessed what fans never saw. The wreckage Garland left behind every time she walked onto a set late, unsteady, or not at all.

Lucille once told a friend, “Judy was magic, but magic that burned the stage down.” One memory stayed with her forever. A TV director in the 70s told Lucille about a shoot where Garland was scheduled at 5:00 a.m. The full crew, grips, lighting, camera, makeup, waited and waited. Garland arrived at 2 p.m. radiant and apologetic.

Then delivered 30 perfect minutes that reminded everyone why she was a star. Then she declared she was too tired to continue and left. The next morning, three crew members were fired because the production was now over budget. Lucille’s anger didn’t come from jealousy or moral judgment. It came from workplace scars.

She herself had survived Hollywood by being reliable in a system built to discard women. Watching Garland waste her gift while innocent people paid the price felt unforgivable. She said it bluntly at a private dinner. Talent doesn’t excuse destruction, and with Judy, someone always got destroyed. Lucille never openly confronted Garland, but she quietly avoided working with her again.

When Garland died in 1969, Lucille mourned the talent, but not the turmoil. To her, Judy wasn’t evil in intent, but the damage she caused was real, deep, and impossible to ignore. Ava Gardner, the beauty Lucille Ball said was savage behind the skin. What kind of woman can make Lucille Ball say she enjoyed the hurt she caused? That woman was Ava Gardner.

Ava had something sharper, something Lucille considered far more dangerous. Beauty with a taste for cruelty. Their feud didn’t begin with a misunderstanding. It began with Ava targeting people she thought were beneath her. Lucille saw it up close one afternoon in the mid 1960s at an MGM wardrobe fitting.

A young assistant nervously presented Ava with a freshly steamed dress. A tiny spot of over steaming had softened a seam. It was barely noticeable, but Ava’s reaction was volcanic. Ava stared at the girl, then said slowly, “Don’t bother fixing it. You can’t fix incompetence with more incompetence. The girl froze, humiliated.

Lucille, standing nearby, felt her chest tighten. This wasn’t diva behavior. This was pleasure in domination. Later, she told a confidant, “Ava didn’t make mistakes. She made victims.” The tension escalated at an industry cocktail party. Someone mentioned Lucille’s name in a casual conversation. Ava smirked and said loudly, “Oh, the washedup clown. She’s still working.

” People gasped. Ava didn’t care. The cruelty was sharpened like a blade. Lucille believed those qualities blinded people to the rot underneath. She told a friend, “If she hadn’t been beautiful, no one would have tolerated who she really was.” They never reconciled. Ava’s beauty aged into legend.

Lucille’s memories of her aged into disgust. And until her final years, whenever Ava’s name appeared in a magazine or documentary, Lucille would mutter the same sentence under her breath. People have no idea what she was behind the face. B. Davis, the talent. Lucille Ball said, “Cut people for sport.” Everyone admired B.

Davis’s talent except Lucille Ball. who once asked privately why does she enjoy hurting people so much with Bet. Lucille didn’t need time to figure out what bothered her. The hostility was immediate, sharp, and unforgettable. Their worst encounter happened at an industry dinner in the mid 1960s. Lucille was only a few tables away when Bet began tearing into a young waiter who had mistakenly brought the wrong wine.

The room fell silent as Davis snarled. Do you even know how to read a label or is that beyond you? The boy apologized repeatedly, but Bet continued, savoring the humiliation like a performance. Lucille watched, stunned. This was deliberate cruelty. Later that night, Bet spotted Lucille and raised her glass in mock friendliness.

Lucille didn’t reciprocate. She had already seen enough. She told a friend afterward, “Crawford was cold, but Bet Bet enjoyed inflicting the wound.” To Lucille, that was unforgivable. She respected talent relentlessly, but she despised anyone who used power to crush people trying to survive in the same industry.

She once said, “Greatness should protect people, not break them.” B. And Lucille were never friends. They worked in the same city, the same era, the same circles, yet avoided each other like oil and water. Even decades later, when Bet appeared in tributes or retrospectives, Lucille declined joint interviews. Zhaja Gabbor, the woman.

Lucille Ball said was fake down to the bone. The moment Zha Gabbor’s name came up, Lucille Ball didn’t sigh or roll her eyes. She laughed. Lucille didn’t fear Zha. She didn’t resent her success or her looks. What she hated, truly hated, was the fraudulence. Zahha wasn’t just dramatic or spoiled. To Lucille, she was a walking performance, a woman who weaponized charm while treating people like disposable props.

Lucille’s disgust began at a charity event in the late 1960s. Cameras flashed and Zia Zha floated in, draped in diamonds and furs, smiling like royalty. The second the photographers left, everything changed. A volunteer politely guided her to a table. Zha snapped, “I don’t sit with peasants.” Lucille witnessed it from across the room. That one sentence was enough.

But the worst moment came minutes later. A young volunteer, barely 20, accidentally brushed Zaza’s coat. Instead of a simple correction, Zha leaned in and whispered, “Sweetheart, you touch my coat again, and I’ll make sure you never work an event in this town again.” Lucille felt sick because Ziza delivered it with a sweet smile, like she was offering a compliment.

Later that night, Lucille vented to a close colleague. “Nothing about her is real. Not the accent, not the elegance, not even the kindness.” To Lucille, fake kindness was worse than open cruelty. A fake person could disarm people. A fake person could fool the world. And Zaza never changed. Even decades later, when she slapped a Beverly Hills police officer in 1989, Lucille wasn’t surprised.

She simply said, “There she is, the real one.” Lucille never forgave Zia. And in Lucille’s eyes, the most dangerous kind of evil is the kind that smiles while it stabs. Now that you’ve heard the seven names Lucille Ball revealed, which one shocked you the most? Do you think Hollywood still hides people like this today? Tell me your thoughts in the comments below.

Your opinion might surprise others, too. And if you want more untold stories from classic Hollywood, don’t forget to like this video, subscribe, and hit the bell so you never miss the next reveal.