AFI Silver recently screened The Searchers (1956). Glenn Frankel, the author of The Searchers: The Making of an American Legend, was also there, to comment on the film and answer questions. It was a fascinating talk. Though we previously posted on this film, the opportunity to see it on a big screen, and the commentary by Mr. Frankel invites a revisit to perhaps best of all Westerns. The book, which is reviewed here (NY Times Review), looks not only at the film, but at the historical inspirations for it. In this Interview with author from CNN, the story of Cynthia Ann Parker, and her abduction by the Comanches is discussed. Like Debbie (Natalie Wood), Cynthia Ann (or Naduah, as the Comanches named her) was abducted at about age 11. She lived with the Comanche for 25 years, bearing 3 children. One of her sons was Quanah Parker, the last chief of the Quahada Comanche. (For more information on Naduah and Quanah Parker, visit the Texas State Historical Association) Though given opportunities to leave the Comanche, Naduah refused; she loved her husband and children. Eventually recaptured, Naduah was unable to return to her family, dying at age 45. Ethan Edwards' fears that Debbie is now fully Comanche is a reflection of historical facts. Ford emphasizes the importance of Ethan's fears when he encounters a group of recaptured white women and children. Forced again into a new world, two of the prisoners appear insane - a woman who apparently has lost her child, and a teenage girl. A third girl is terrified and weeping inconsolably. Edwards' face reflects his horror, but of what? Is it his fear that this is what will remain of Debbie when she returns, or disgust at the "savages" these supposedly civilized females have become? You can draw your own conclusions, but it seems that this might be the instant when Ethan contemplates killing Debbie.
Finally, a word on seeing The Searchers in a theatre. Nothing can prepare you for the grandeur of the scenery when seen in its proper environment. The people are dwarfed by the expanse of the valley. They appear as ants, stretching across an unending vista of stone and sand. Monument Valley shows us that no one, not the settlers, not the Comanche, can change the Valley. The Comanche have learned to live with the land. The settlers come to "tame" it. They never will. One look at the sky and land, and you realize the lunacy of even trying. I close with a trailer from the film, which gives a good idea of the vistas, and of Ford's vision of the West:
Tonight and Every Night (1945) is the story of a small London theatre, the Music Box, which was able to continue performing every night during World War II, despite the constant bombings that plagued the city. The film opens late in the war, with the arrival of a "Life" magazine reporter, who is doing a story on this remarkable achievement. As he interviews performer Rosalind Bruce (Rita Hayworth), an American who was there from the beginning, we flash back to her recollections of the start of the war.
The music and dance in this film are the stage shows that our cast, Rosalind, Judy Kane (Janet Blair), Tommy Lawson (Mark Platt) and their colleagues put on at the theatre. The songs aren't "book songs" - they don't advance the action of the story at all, which is unfortunate, as we would have liked a little more backstory concerning our performers. Why are both Rosalind and Judy in England? And what about Tommy? We know he worked in a store, but we would have liked to have learned more. We also are given a love triangle: Judy loves Tommy, Tommy loves Rosalind, and Rosalind loves RAF Pilot Paul Lundy (Lee Bowman), and a story of friendship: the relationship between Judy and Rosalind is one of true loyalty to each other. But, at times, we yearned for more depth about our characters, and it just wasn't forthcoming.
The story line
is actually factually based. The Windmill Theatre (which still exists)
in London had the motto "We Never Closed", as it remained open
throughout World War II. The full story of the Windmill was told in the
2005 film Mrs. Henderson Presents, starring Judi Dench. Our version of the story was based on a play about the Windmill called Heart of the City (the name of the theatre was changed due to copyright issues). This article on the TCM Website will provide a bit more information about the history of Tonight and Every Night.
There are some particularly good numbers in this film. We were particularly taken with Janet Blair's rendition of the title song. Staged as Judy summons London residents from a filmed newsreel, the number is imaginative, and beautifully done. We especially liked the change from b&w to color as the performers emerge from "reel" to "real" life. Also amazing is Mark Platt's improvisational audition. Confessing that he dances at home to whatever is on the radio, theatre owner May "Tolly" Tolliver (Florence Bates) moves a radio dial to summon up a variety of different musical styles. Finally, Tommy performs an impressive dance to speech by Adolph Hitler! You can see that number in the clip below:
The film does a good job of painting a picture of life during the Blitz - the bravery of the performers in not only remaining in London, but performing despite extreme danger is made very clear. We learn of other theatres that are damaged or destroyed, and we are affected by the casualties of the bombing. Though the war was almost at an end when the film was released (January of 1945), filming probably occurred during the summer of 1944, as the Allied forces were invading the European mainland. Rita Hayworth's daughter Rebecca was born in December of 1944, and Hayworth was pregnant during film. Dance scenes were filmed immediately, before the pregnancy would show. Later scenes camouflaged her condition with loose fitting clothing and muffs. It's especially apparent in the "The Boy I Left Behind" number, where she wears long underwear, and the song "What Does an English Girl Think of a Yank". Rita's singing is dubbed again, but the dancing is all her. And, as always, she is magnificent.
In closing, here is the lovely Ms. Hayworth in "You Excite Me", widely touted as one of her best routines in any of her films:
Rusty Parker (Rita Hayworth) is the lead performer in Danny McGuire's (Gene Kelly) Brooklyn night club. She learns of a contest to model for the fashion magazineVanity from fellow dancer Maurine Martin (Leslie Brooks) and decides to enter. Though Maurine does all she can to sabotage Rusty's chances, magazine editor John Coudair is so taken by Rusty's appearance that he hires her. It seems Rusty is the spitting image of John's lost love, Maribelle Hicks. It's no coincidence - Rusty is Maribelle's granddaughter. Unfortunately, not everyone is thrilled by Rusty's success. Maurine is furious; but Danny is also angry and jealous, for his girlfriend is being courted by other men; specifically, Noel Wheaton (Lee Bowman), who is as captivated by Rusty as John was by Maribelle. In his pursuit of her, Noel encourages Rusty to quit her job at Danny's place: he will get her show on Broadway. Thus begins Cover Girl (1944). It is not really one of Gene Kelly's best musicals, which is sad to say. One of the problems is that there are just too many musical numbers which don't advance the plot; instead, the serve as distractions away from the story of Rusty and Danny. One example is the "Cover Girl" number, which is way too long, and Rita Hayworth isn't in enough of it. The same with "The Show Must Go On": you have to wait too long to see Hayworth, and instead, get to look at a bunch of models trying to be as engaging as Hayward (and not succeeding). It's not that the dancing or songs are bad, it's that they are jarring. They don't seem to fit into what is going on.
However, there are some wonderful
numbers. Kelly's impressive "Alter Ego" number, in which he dances with
himself, (back before CGI). Hayworth (not singing - Hayworth's singing
was dubbed. More on that later) "Long Ago and Far Away" (a spectacular
Jerome Kern/Ira Gershwin song), and finally the amusing "Poor John",
which DOES advance the John-Maribelle story. Also intriguing is the
first "trio" number with Phil Silvers (as Danny's best friend, Genius),
Gene Kelly, and Rita Hayworth ("Make Way For Tomorrow"). The routine feels like a practice for Singin' in the Rain,
perhaps not surprising, since it was developed by the same
choreographers (Kelly and Stanley Donen). This was Donen's first film
work with Kelly, so it is interesting to see the
development of their unique and impressive partnership. Though Rita Hayworth "sings" in a number of films, she is actually dubbed in every one of them. This was a surprise to us, as we were so familiar with her in Pal Joey and in Gilda. We, of course are curious as to WHY she was dubbed. We assume that powers-that-be deemed her inferior (as with Audrey Hepburn, Ava Gardner, and Natalie Wood - all of whom had sung in films with their own voices in other films, but in My Fair Lady, Showboat, and West Side Story, respectively, were determined to be vocally insufficient). However, she did do SOME singing in Gilda, and sang for the troops during World War II (see this article on Gilda from TCM). Below is a YouTube video of Ms. Hayward singing "The Heat is On". Why she wasn't allowed to sing is a mystery.
The movie draws some nice parallels between Rusty and her grandmother, but we felt that Rusty comes off as a bit more callous than Maribelle. Rusty clearly doesn't love Noel; and while Danny is acting like a total jerk, consenting to marry Noel is cruel to Noel. Is she going to Noel for security? Because she SHOULD be married? Or just passively letting Noel lead her by the hand? Regardless, she ends up jilting him at the altar (Maribelle tells John they are done long before their relationship gets that far). We thought that Noel took it a lot better than he should have. As always, Eve Arden is tremendous as assistant editor Cornelia Jackson. The scene in which Rusty walks in being "animated" is a hoot; it's instantly apparent that Rusty is no actress (and that Hayworth is fantastic at mocking bad acting). But the scene is stolen in one look by Arden. As always, Ms. Arden can do more with an eyebrow than most performers can do with their entire body.
To close, here is one of our favorite novelty numbers from the film, Ms. Hayworth doing "Poor John".
The here meets the hereafter in Smilin' Through(1932), a lovely film about a man who lost the
love of his life on their wedding day.
John Carteret (Leslie Howard) still
mourns the loss of Moonyean Clare (Norma Shearer) after 30 years. He spends
much of his time in the garden where they were happiest, and where the spirit
of Moonyean visits him, assuring him of her continued love. As a result, John
has virtually withdrawn from the world, until the day his friend Dr. Owen (O.
P. Heggie) brings the news that Moonyean's sister and her husband have died in
a boating accident, leaving her 6 year-old daughter orphaned. He also brings the child, in the hopes that she will reopen John's heart. Though at first
reluctant to take the child, John is so captivated by little Kathleen (Cora
Sue Collins) that he consents to adopt her.
By 1915, the now adult Kathleen
(also played by Norma Shearer) is the apple of her Uncle John's eye, as well as
being nearly a twin of Moonyean; John is convinced that Kathleen will shortly
marry the somewhat stodgy Willie Ainsley (Ralph Forbes). But when Kathleen
meets Kenneth Wayne (Fredric March), a young American who is heir to a local
home, and who has come to England to join the war efforts, any hope of that is
lost. Kathleen and Kenneth fall desperately in love. But when John learns of the affair, he is horrified; Kenneth's father was drunken lout who murdered Moonyean. John forbids Kathleen to see Kenneth.
Based on a play by Jane Cowl and Jane Murfin, this version is the second time the story was told on screen. The first was a silent version in 1922, with Norma Talmadge as Moonyean/Kathleen. The third time, in 1941, was a musical version with Jeannette MacDonald as Moonyean, Brian Aherne as John, and Gene Raymond as Kenneth/Jeremy.
Like any MGM film, especially one starring Norma Shearer this subtle movie is beautifully done. Exquisite costumes by Adrian, along with convincing makeup for Leslie Howard (who has to age over 40 years during the course of the film), and a sensitive script that really keeps you involved make this a film that wears its age well.
Of course, this is an exceptional acting ensemble. Leslie Howard is especially convincing as John. You have to believe that he is able to communicate with the spirit of Moonyean, which Howard does beautifully. His later rage against Kenneth is equally good. We especially enjoyed his scene with the young Kathleen. Howard carefully unwraps the hidden man, making John blossom in this brief conversation. We were also impressed with O.P. Heggie, who plays Dr. Owen. Owen serves as the link between the past and the present and Heggie does a nice job. He had a fairly short career in talking films. He died at age 59, in 1936, having appeared, in a total of 27 silent and talking films. Included in this list are The Bride of Frankenstein (1935) as the blind hermit and Anne of Green Gables (1934) as Matthew.
Certainly, the play suggested the doubling of Kathleen/Moonyean and Kenneth/Jeremy. It is an especially good decision to continue that casting note. We felt that, especially for the character of Kenneth, the fact that Kenneth looks so much like Jeremy makes John's dislike
more intense, and helps the audience to understand his horror at the younger man's involvement with Kathleen.
The film was nominated for Best Picture in 1932, losing to Cavalcade. This brief TCM article discusses cameraman Lee Garmes and his initial difficulties in filming Norma Shearer (who was sensitive about the appearance of her eyes on film). Obviously, it was a problem his was able to overcome, because she is just lovely, as always.
To close, here is the aborted marriage of John and his beloved Moonyean.
The final film in the AFI Silver tribute to Barbara Stanwyck was Remember the Night (1940), certainly an appropriate film for the holiday season. It's a few days before Christmas. John [Jack] Sargent (Fred MacMurray), a New York City Assistant District Attorney has been requested by his boss to delay his vacation for one day, in order to prosecute a shoplifter. It doesn't sound like it should be all that hard, but the DA knows that it is difficult to convict a woman, and Lee Leander (Barbara Stanwyck) is very much a woman. Rather than deal with the holiday spirit of the jurors, John forces a delay to the trial, then feels guilty when he realizes Lee will have to spend the holidays in jail. He bails her out, then discovers she has no where to go. As she was brought up in Indiana, only a few miles away from Jack's family home, and her mother still resides there, Jack proposes he bring her with him for a visit to her family. So, off they go, each intending to spend the holidays with his or her mother.
In the past, we've complained about films that don't seem to know if they are comedy, tragedy, or romance. Remember the Night has a little bit of each, yet holds its course beautifully. The film starts in an almost comedic tone, building the humor until our couple is arrested for trespassing in a pasture (and theft. Jack decided to milk a cow for a cup of milk). However, once Jack and Lee reach Indiana, the mood of the film begins to change. Our encounter with Lee's mother (Georgia Caine) and her cold husband, who will not even tell Jack his name, quickly reveals WHY Lee's life went wrong. The mother, who's love and regard Lee still craves, despises her daughter, who is "just like her father." Lee was forced out of her home as a young teen; she is still not welcome there, so Jack brings her to his family to spend the holiday.
The film now counterpoints the dark, almost evil tone of Lee's childhood home with that of Jack. Like Lee's mother, Mrs. Sargent (Beulah Bondi) is a widow. She raised John alone, but with love and encouragement. We discover that there is much about the young lives of Jack and Lee that are similar: like Lee, Jack once "borrowed" the egg money, but Jack's mother talked to him about it. Lee's mother condemned her as a life-long thief. It is that one difference - the attitude of the mothers towards their children that have shaped their adult lives.
Of course, this is a stellar cast. Stanwyck is amazing as Lee. Watch the scene where she absorbs the love in the Sargent house. Her eyes display her amazement at the family's love and intimacy, and yearning for a similar memory. MacMurray is quite convincing as Jack - one is even willing to overlook the fact that it is illegal for Lee to leave the state while out on bail, thanks to the honesty of MacMurray's portrayal. And then there is the always magnificent Beulah Bondi. Her character is all warmth and understanding - even when she has to do something unpleasant, her kindness shines through. Will she accept Lee in the end? One suspects she will, and that one day in the near future Lee and Jack will be back home again in Indiana to stay. A quick nod is also due to Sterling Holloway (Willie), who it turns out has a lovely singing voice. Certainly, his quirky voice and appearance have always typecast him, but Willie is a character you look forward to visiting.
To supplement your enjoyment of this film, here is a posting from the Movie Morlocks blog, which talks a bit about the film's author, Preston Sturges. As I mentioned, this film is full of the spirit of Christmas, but with a bit of humor thrown in. With Christmas coming, why not give it a look? In the meantime, here is a clip for your enjoyment:
The Gorgeous Hussy (1936) is an unusual film, in that it feature Joan Crawford playing an historical person and is set in the 1820s and 1830s. Never before, nor again, would Crawford tackle a period piece, which makes this a fascinating diversion. Crawford plays Margaret "Peggy" O'Neal Timberlake Eaton, an innkeeper's daughter who becomes influential in the Andrew Jackson (Lionel Barrymore) White House, following her marriage to Secretary of War John Eaton (Franchot Tone). Her common birth, her forthrightness, and her earlier marriage to John "Bow" Timberlake (Robert Taylor) make her an easy target for gossip. And then there is her relationship with John Randolph (Melvyn Douglas). She loves him, he claims not to love her, but then he realizes too late that he does have feelings for her. It's hard to imagine a studio other than MGM being able to assemble this much talent in one movie. Besides the already mentioned Crawford, Tone, Taylor, and Douglas, we also have James Stewart as "Rowdy" Dow, Lionel Barrymore as Andrew Jackson, Beulah Bondi as Rachel Jackson, Sidney Toler as Daniel Webster, and Louis Calhern as Sunderland. With the exception of Crawford and Barrymore, the supporting actors have minimal screen time. Certainly, Taylor and Stewart had not yet achieved the level of stardom that we are familiar with (Taylor's breakout in Camille was 4 months away, while Stewart would wait another 2 years before You Can't Take it With You.); yet Taylor gets second billing under Crawford, in spite of being in only about 1/3 of the film (no spoilers here; you have to watch the film to find out why). We particularly enjoyed a scene in which Peggy and Bow are sewn into adjacent beds so there will be no
hanky-panky.
Crawford's Peggy is very sweet; and also quite bright - she does
the accounting for her father's inn, and she is shown as being quite savvy about business. As always, Crawford creates a strong
and feminine character (with the assistance of Adrian, in his creation of some spectacular period dresses). Despite this, Crawford felt that the audience - always her career arbiter - did not like her in costume roles, and so she opted to not appear in an historical drama again. This TCM article discusses the public reception - or lack thereof - of the film.
The article also discusses the personal life of Lionel Barrymore in some detail. Barrymore's severe arthritis had already become a problem. He could still stand, though doing so was painful; walking was next to impossible. He was also dealing with his wife's illness - an illness that would claim her life 4 months later. Barrymore's relationship with the always wonderful Beulah Bondi - in her Oscar-nominated role - is warm and loving; acting as a counterpoint to the blustering, somewhat abrasive politician. One particularly funny scene with Barrymore involved an unnamed character actress - the mother of one of the cabinet wives - who congratulates Jackson for his successful put-down of her daughter.
The character of John
Randolph is, however, a frustrating one. While his reluctance to become involved with a girl he'd known
since she was a child is understandable, Randolph seems hell-bent on being unhappy, and making Peggy unhappy as well. Even when it seems that love is within their grasp, he is unable to compromise to unite them. Certainly, Jackson is equally to blame for Peggy's eventual unhappiness, but it's easier to blame Randolph, with his easy assumption that Peggy's beliefs should take second place to his own. It's not one of Douglas' better roles; a bit too angst-y for our taste. We found it interesting that the author
of the book The Gorgeous Hussy, Samuel Hopkins Adams, also wrote the
book The Harvey Girls and the story Night Bus (which became It Happened One
Night). An article in the American Journal of Public Health discusses his career as a "journalist and muckraker".
Ms. Crawford was likely correct to eschew historical pictures after this. Nevertheless, it's an enjoyable film and worth viewing.
Back in January, our group watched Illicit, a fascinating precode with Barbara Stanwyck. As part of the AFI tribute to Stanwyck, I was able to see it again, this time in a theatre. As always, a big screen does make a difference in your viewing experience.
Stanwyck is Anne Vincent; Anne is deeply in love with Dick Ives (James Rennie), but is terrified of marrying him. Marriage, she believes, will destroy their love, just as it destroyed her parents' love for one another. Though Dick is sure she is wrong, he is willing to continue their current arrangement (each has an apartment, but they visit overnight on a regular basis) until his father (Claude Gillingwater) reveals that their affair is the subject of gossip. Anne agrees to marry, but within a couple of years, Anne is distressed to discover that her prediction has come true. Dick is more concerned with being out with friends than with her. And he has seemingly succumbed to the charms of his ex-girlfriend, Margie True (Natalie Moorhead). The film is very careful to set up similar romantic situations for our hero and heroine. Dick rejected Margie when he met Anne; Anne left Price Baines (Ricardo Cortez) for Dick. Both exes are eager to win back their former love; but while Dick is easily led by Margie, Anne is not deceived at all by Price. Try as he might, Price cannot get Anne to betray Dick, even after she knows that Dick has been seeing Margie. In fact, Anne seems to find Price rather distasteful in his pursuit of her. Stanwyck nearly cringes at his advances, and is quite prepared to throw him out of her home (and one suspects she could do it, too) Both Margie and Price are vain, predatory individuals. They don't so much love as seek to possess. One can imagine that, once they win their battle, they will start seeking other prey. Anne possibly is able to see this. It takes Dick quite a long time to understand Margie.
Another couple (of sorts) is also thrown into the mix. We have Charles Butterworth as the always inebriated Georgie, and his constant companion Helen "Duckie" Childers (Joan Blondell in a fairly small part). Where Georgie is a lush, "Duckie" (who does like to party) is sober, and is a good friend to Anne, while Georgie is busy gossiping about Anne and Dick. Playing a society girl, Blondell still retains her brash appeal. The good news is, she gets better clothing; the bad news is that she isn't on the screen often enough.
This TCM article gives some picture of the critical reception of the film. While some local censor boards banned the film, The New York Times was pleased with the story, giving the cast overall approval for their work.
The film still has a great deal of appeal because it still seems so timely. This trailer will give you a taste of this interesting movie:
A Night to Remember (1942) is one of those films that doesn't seem to know what it wants to be when it grows up. Screwball comedy? Horror? Suspense? Romance? Take your pick, because the film really doesn't do any of them very well. The film opens on Nancy (Loretta Young) and Jeff Troy (Brian Aherne). They have just arrived at their new Greenwich Village basement apartment, which Nancy found for them (Jeff's never been there before). He's a hack mystery writer (he writes as Jeff Yort), and wants to work in the Village, in hopes of writing the Great American Novel. They have arrived early (without notifying their landlord), and are stunned that the apartment isn't ready for them (who arrives two days early, and expects to just move in? They haven't even paid for the apartment yet). But the real problem is, the landlord is more frightened than annoyed that they are there. And there is this weird housekeeper who says something keeps crawling on her feet.
The film is extremely repetitious. The housekeeper keeps telling the same story over and over; there is a door that is always getting stuck. It's like the writers had a few jokes, and decided they could keep using them. Rather than build on humor, the repetitions become inane.The one humorous bit is the introduction of Old Hickory, a turtle that was the mascot of the speakeasy that used to be in the apartment building. Old Hickory keeps turning up (scaring everyone), and MANY people, including the police inspector investigating the murder (of course, there is a murder!), are fans of Old Hickory.
The film is based on the third in a series of nine mystery books about the exploits of Jeff and Haila Troy, entitled The Frightened Stiff. There was also a Screen Guild Theatre radio production of the film, with Lucille Ball playing Nancy Troy and Brian Donlevy playing Jeff on May 1, 1944. The supporting cast is good, albeit not well used. Sidney Toler
as Inspector Hankins (shades of Charlie Chan!) is the only smart one within a group of fairly dumb police officers, That's probably why he is an inspector. At one point, Jeff comments that the police are no longer allowed to used rubber hoses during an interrogation - shades of the Miranda Warning!. You get to see the wonderful Lee Patrick
(playing apartment house resident Polly Franklin) right away, but you have to wait quite a while before Gale Sondergaard
(as Mrs. DeVoe) shows up. Both are fun to watch. We would have liked to have seen more of them, as both Aherne and Young got a bit annoying after awhile. As the movie opens, it has a creepy air. We felt that the writers should have emphasized that suspense aspect more, as we think they would have had a better movie. Not that humor and murder can't be done - Miss Pinkerton, which we saw a bit ago, was able to do it. So did the wonderful Cat and the Canary. But the problem with A Night to Remember is that nothing really makes sense. Why would the landlord would rent an apartment in the building to an outsider, when he and all the tenants are so frightened that an outsider will discover their crimes. And, the ending is very abrupt. The murderer is revealed with almost no explanation, and the film is over. We kinda
liked the little apartment, though, with its private garden in the back. It is supposed to be on Gay Street, which is a
real Village street. But other than that (and Old Hickory), this movie was missing that certain something that makes you want to come back for more. It's no wonder there were no further Troy mysteries.
I had the opportunity this weekend to attend part of a Barbara Stanwyck festival that was held at the AFI Silver Theatre in downtown Silver Spring, MD. The festival was held to celebrate volume one of a new biography of the magnificent Ms. Stanwyck, A Life of Barbara Stanwyck: Steel-True 1907-1940 by Victoria Wilson. As part of the series, I viewed three of the films. Over the next few weeks, I'll be sharing some thoughts with you about these films (one of which was previously reviewed).
The first film was the infamous Baby Face (1933), starring Barbara Stanwyckas Lily Powers, a young woman from the absolutely wrong side of the tracks. Lily lives with her father, a nasty, evil man who runs a speakeasy Erie, Pennsylvania. It's clear that he has been prostituting his daughter, just as he did with his wife (before she left him and ultimately died). Lily despises him, and, as a result of her experiences, has no use for, as she puts it, "Dirty rotten men!". At the urging of the local cobbler (a fan of Nietzsche), Lily packs up her meager belongings and heads for New York, to "use men, not let them use [her]." And use men she does; from the minute she begins her trip, Lily is using her body to work her way to wealth and power.
Quite a bit has been written about this film. Since the restored versionwas discovered by Library of Congress curator Michael Mashon, many authors have looked at the original version in contrast to the version that finally ended up in theaters. Of particular interest are these, from Precode.com and from Electric Sheep. Obviously, many changes had to be made to make the film compliant with the newly enforced production code. The result was a hodgepodge, with the film being neither the somewhat subversive, shocking film we can see today, nor the moral tale that Hays Office required. Just a quick look at the New York Times review from the period shows how the film suffered. The reviewer said the film was about "an unsavory subject, with incidents set forth in an inexpert fashion."
The film is actually beautifully crafted. One brief moment that, I felt, said so much about Lily was an early view of her leaning out the window of her Erie home, and trying to brush the soot off the flowers in her windox box. It serves as a comment about the environment in which Lily has always lived, but also demonstrates her desire for beauty, as well as her stubbornness. The men in Lily's life are a
real back of losers. From the railway engineer who is her first
conquest, to J.R. Carter (Henry Kolker), men as shown as lascivious,
vain, and quite stupid. It's fun to see John Wayne in a very NON John Wayne role, the easily manipulated Jimmy McCoy. You can't really imagine that they are totally unable to see that Lily is controlling them to her own aims. Of course, they are so self-involved that it never strikes any of them as odd that a creature like Lily would want them.
One person who is wasted, however, is Margaret Lindsay as Ann Carter, the fiance of the somewhat insane Ned Stevens (Donald Cook). Ann's whole part involves walking in on Lily and Ned, and then running out of the room in tears. Cook gets more to do as Ned melts down when Lily dumps him. Cook is such a low-key actor, it's hard to imagine his character being so volatile. However, watch Stanwyck in that particular scene. Her control is amazing.
George
Brent, as Courtland Trenholm, is something different from the other
men. He does not immediately fall prey to Lily's charms; when they
first meet, he is not willing to bow to her blackmail demands, and the
look between them is one of mutual admiration. When they encounter one
another two years later, his admiration for her abilities turns to a
love that is deeper and more meaningful than anything Lily has ever
confronted. Trenholm knows exactly who Lily is, yet he doesn't care.
He is willing to look beyond her past to what she might become.
All through the movie, Lily has only one constant relationship, and that is with Chico (Theresa Harris), a young African-American woman who is an employee in the speakeasy. Lily's loyalty to Chico (and Chico's to Lily) is unique in films of this era. Chico is Lily's partner and confidant; she masquerades as Lily's maid, but we are always aware that the relationship is deeper. To the very end, Chico is there; no man can come between them.
If you've not seen Baby Face, treat yourself. Here is a trailer:
For another look at the film, take a look at this posting by
Electric Sheep
The Doctor Takes a Wife (1940) is about two extremely obnoxious people, who are supposedly funny when they get together. Loretta Young plays June Cameron, author of the bestselling book "Spinsters aren't Spinach," a tome that urges women to be independent, and seek careers rather than marriage. Ray Milland is Dr. Timothy Sterling, a medical school instructor and researcher in head pain. They meet at an inn, when June, desperate to return to New York, intrudes herself into Tim's car, and demands (yes, demands!) that he drive her home. During a stop, a young boy accidentally attaches a "Just Married" sign to Tim's car, and the local telegrapher is horrified to discover her hero (June) is married! To avoid scandal, June's publisher convinces her to pretend marriage (she'll also get another book out of it - "Marriage Ain't Measles"), and then "divorce" Tim once it is published. Tim agrees when he is given a long sought-after promotion BECAUSE he is married.
The biggest problem with this film is that neither Tim nor June is particularly likeable. June intrudes herself into Tim's car (too cheap to get a taxi?), then refuses to reimburse him for gas or her lunch (for which he paid), then breaks a piece of his medical equipment (a head, which bears remarkable resemblance to a Chia pet) because it looks like her hatbox. Certainly, Tim has more reason to be obnoxious (he didn't request her company or expenses), but then he proceeds to pay her debt by getting drunk on her liquor, and falling asleep in her bed. One would think that the approximately $2 he was out was worth losing to get away from her.
We're all fond of Ray Milland, though most of us are more familiar with his dramatic work (The Uninvited, The Lost Weekend, Ministry of Fear), than with his comedies. That being said, we're all fans of The Major and the Minor, and looked forward to seeing him again in a comedy. The problem with The Doctor Takes a Wife is that it isn't all that funny. It has some funny moments, but the leads end up being more of a hindrance than a benefit, and the screwball elements - like the scene where Tim runs back and forth between apartments (in an effort to keep his medical colleagues and his fiance apart) - strain credulity. The plot is so segmented that it just doesn't hold together very well, and June's very abrupt reversal regarding Tim is hard to believe.
The
characters that we would loved to have seen more of were Marilyn
Thomas, played with verve by Gail Patrick and the always wonderful
Edmund Gwenn, as Tim's father
Dr. Lionel Sterling. Gwenn is barely used - an absolute shame, as his
character was just lovely, and he is such an excellent actor. Patrick
here is (again), the other woman. Except, if you look at it closely,
June really is the other woman - Marilyn and Tim are engaged when the
whole marriage ruse is cooked up. If Marilyn is a bit much, it is
merely a device to make her more unappealing than June (and it's hard to
make someone more unappealing that June). It's Marilyn who is the
wronged party; she is quite loyal to Tim, even after she believes he has
married someone else while she was out of town.
Reginald Gardiner playing June's publisher (and would-be husband) is really just playing the
same character he played in Christmas in Connecticut. John is even more unlikeable than June, and is openly dishonest - it's his idea to milk the pretend marriage for yet another advise book (from a woman who knows nothing about the subject). He's even planning for a "divorce" book once June is able to ditch Tim.
The
film's opening
scene is a lovely, idealized view of the contemporary
bookstore. Another fantastic set design is June's two-story New York
City apartment. Her book is obviously doing well - among other touches,
the apartment has a lovely spiral staircase up to the balcony.
It's also interesting to note that the title "Spinsters aren't Spinach" was probably influenced by the book "Fashion is Spinach" by
fashion designer Elizabeth Hawes, which was published in 1938. One of our group discovered the title's multiple copies in her library (which has a fashion focus). She suspects that the
book was very popular in those days since since so many copies were available.
Another little oddity in the film was June's display of a knitted baby sweater. Never mind her complete about face regarding marital bliss. As someone who knits, the author is rather perplexed at how she knit that thing so quickly! Just to get an idea of the reception of the film in 1940, we took a look at this rather blah New York Times review. The problem, we think is that the film is trying to be screwball, but is it really? Does one farcical scene make a screwball comedy? It's not the
worst movie ever done, but neither is it really top of the game for any of the
leads. Here's a trailer from the film, to give you a chance to decide for yourself.
A man sits on a park bench, casually feeding pigeons. He is dressed in dinner clothes; he appears to be quite wealthy, both in his garb and demeanor. Beside him, a young woman quietly cries. He brusquely asks her why. She has lost her job, and hasn't eaten for 2 days. He opines that there is absolutely no reason for her to starve, and whisks her off for a meal. Thus begins Man's Castle (1933), a precode film, starring Spencer Tracy as
Bill and Loretta Young
as Trina.
Considering the disposable nature of movies in this period, and the fact that the plot centers on a couple living together without benefit of marriage, it is fascinating that the film was reissued in 1938, with about 9 minutes of content deleted (this is the cut of the film we can see today). Included in these cuts is a shot of Loretta Young jumping nude into the water. Yet, even with this elimination, it is obvious that Trina (who we see enter the water) is skinny-dipping. It's puzzling how even this version was able to pass the censors. A shortened version of Man's Castle was also aired twice (in 1939 and 1941) on the Lux Radio Theatre, both times with Spencer Tracy reprising his role.
Set amid the Depression, Man's Castle presents a picture of a man running from responsibility and the woman who loves him and is
willing to tolerate his constant dreaming. We found Bill very much like the little boy who smacks you to tell you
he likes you. Though it is apparent that he loves Trina, he is constantly plaguing her with speeches about his eminent departure. He continually belittles her, calling her Whoositz", and poo-pooing her dreams of a future. Bill is a pipe dreamer, with little grasp of reality. Even his attempts to steal enough
money so that Trina can live comfortably demonstrate his immaturity.
Though we have no
real back-story on either character, it is clear that Trina recently became unemployed. What she did before she met Bill is not discussed. She also has been
evicted from her apartment; again, it is clear that this is a recent event. Despite her loneliness and destitution, Trina retains a positive view of life, and of Bill. While Bill thinks he is smart, is is clear that Trina is much smarter than he is. She is able to run the house; she plans for them both, and (while she fears his departure), she knows his heart better than he knows it himself. The real-life relationship between Loretta Young and Spencer Tracy is discussed in this TCM article. The couple fell in love, but as we discussed last week, marriage between the two was as impossible here as it would be for Young and Gable several years later. Ultimately, Young decided to end what had become a very public affair.
As always, we have some interesting character performances. We've seen the Marjorie Rambeau before, when she played Ginger Roger's mother in Primrose Path.
Here, as Trina's only real
friend, the alcoholic Flossie, she becomes the avenging angel for pair against the rather distasteful Bragg
(Arthur Hohl). She is both sympathetic and frightening. It becomes obvious early on in the film that things will not end well for Flossie. Always delightful is Walter Connolly as Ira. A man of religion, Ira also protects Trina and Bill. But where Flossie's response to the events of her life are anger and escape, Ira looks at life squarely, and looks to his God for guidance. It's an interesting movie - one that makes you hunger for the uncut version. You may also be interested in Richard Brody's discussion of the film for The New Yorker. Regardless of the cuts, it is worth a look - here's a look at the scene we first discussed:
From the opening of She Had to Say Yes (1933), it's obvious that this is a precode film. At a meeting of the salesmen from the Sol Glass Clothing Company, all the salesmen are bemoaning the fact that their "customer's girls" are just too hard and too greedy to be appealing to the buyers who frequent their establishment. But, the company needs to provide entertainment to these poor, lonesome men - so why not ask the secretaries in the steno pool to take on the duties of the customer's girls. They are younger, nicer, and not as hard looking, so they will be more appealing to the buyers. Of course, the girls won't be FORCED to take on the job (of course not...), but it will mean extra money in their pockets and free dinners and shows at the company's expense. At first, only one girl (Birdie, played with a certain sluttish charm by Suzanne Kilborn) is willing to participate, but soon, Tommy Nelson (Regis Toomey) has convinced his fiance Florence Denny (Loretta Young) to go out with Daniel Drew (Lyle Talbot) to close a sale - and give Tommy some "alone" time with Birdie.
This film does not paint a pretty picture of men. Without exception, the men in this film are total creeps; there is not a nice guy in the flick. Take a look at this commentary from TCM, in which Jeanine Basinger says that the film "puts the capper on showing how women are used by men." You know that the secretaries will be forced to participate, and you know that if they do not "play the game" properly, they will be fired. One of our group once worked in the garment industry, and she shook her head at what she saw as a totally accurate portrayal of the attitudes of men in that business. It seems in over 50 years, female employees were still being treated as commodities for the pleasure of the men.
The opening credits immediately inform you that you are entering the world of the fashion industry. With stunning gowns by Orry-Kelly, the costuming is never a disappointment. Loretta Young (who in later years was noted for her magnificent wardrobe in her eponymous television show) is garbed in some truly lovely outfits.
Much of our discussion focused on Ms. Young. She's quite good here. Her Flo is sympathetic and intelligent (though we really thought that Maizie played with wit by Winnie Lightner is the smartest of the lot; she's a bit older and a lot wiser, a good character and a good friend. And someone who really knows how to handle these horrible men). In a different age, Flo would have been an executive rather than a secretary. She's certainly much smarter than her fiance, the ever-creepy Tommy.
It's hard to talk about Loretta Young without getting into some discussion of her later, personal life. We spoke at some length of Young's relationship with Clark Gable and the daughter that was the result of the liaison. Young was a complicated woman - devoted to her Catholic faith, yet with a past that many might find the antithesis of her own beliefs. But, here she is, two years before her life took this unwanted turn, glowing with youth and beauty and appeal. Regis Toomey pulls no punches in presenting a character that is truly unlikeable. An underrated actor, Toomey spent much of his film career playing second bananas. He found a place in television, where he appeared in a variety of shows, including Burke's Law (where he played Gene Barry's Aide-de-Camp), and 6 episodes of The Loretta Young Show. Toomey died in 1991, at the age of 93, after over appearing in over 200 films.
Lyle Talbot's Danny Drew isn't much better than Tommy Nelson. You want to like him as the film progresses, but he is really just as despicable as Tommy. The double-standard is thick enough to spread on toast. Do what I ask you to do, the film says, but don't be surprised when I dump you afterwards.
Here's an amusing trailer from the film - note the script at the beginning: "...because she was hired to be 'nice' to out-of-town buyers, she had to take orders from THEM until they gave their signed orders to HER. Could a good girl stay good WHEN She Had to Say Yes...
William Reynolds (George Brent) is an office worker in a high-power advertising firm. He has a mundane job that he tolerates. He also has a wife, Nan (Ann Dvorak) who thinks he deserves a better, more important job. She suggests that he take an advertising campaign to his boss, an idea that was primarily Nan's. Thus begins 1934's Housewife, a movie that wants to be precode, but doesn't quite make it. Released in early August, the film may have originated before strict enforcement of the code; as a result, Housewife is rather a mishmash that doesn't quite ever gel. One problem is, the film has not aged as well as it might. Bill Reynolds is a bit of a dolt - he is selfish, and not really all that smart - though he thinks he is an advertising genius. The brains in the family belong to Nan, and Bill has no clue in his utter self-absorption of how much he owes to her. You never see
him come up with a good advertising campaign; Nan does them all. To publicize a product, Bill comes up with the idea of a radio show. The "comedy" show is tasteless; Nan saves the day by suggesting a format change to a romance (since the company sells skin cream). Quite honestly, we wanted to take Bill by the scruff of the neck and throw him out with the trash. He is very reminiscent of Bill in Women are Like That, though Pat O'Brien's character is at least intelligent.
Why
Nan wants him is beyond us. Because he is a big football player in high
school? Bill is openly unfaithful; he in facts flaunts his affair in
his wife's face (and in front of her guests.) John
Halliday's Paul Duprey is a much more attractive character and
obviously attracted to Nan; if she had any sense Nan would be with him.
We wondered how this particular film was received in 1934 - a quick look at the New York Times
shows that our reaction was about the same as that of the reviewer. Bette Davis as Patricia never really quite seems comfortable with the character (again, why she would want Bill is a mystery). We
did enjoy the gowns by Orry-Kelly, who, as always, lives up to
expectations. And Ruth Donnelly as Dora is a breath of fresh air. So,
while this is not really a pre-code film (this was released in August
and the code was enforced beginning July 1, 1934), there are no real
repercussions for all the adultery that is going on. Here's a clip to give you a peek.
