Monday, January 20, 2020

Edward Sees Himself

The Whole Town's Talking (1935) about gangster "Killer" Manion (Edward G. Robinson), who just broken out of jail in search of stoolie "Slugs" Martin (Edward Brophy). With Manion's picture all over the front page of every newspaper in town, Arthur Ferguson Jones (Edward G. Robinson) is in a pickle - the mild-mannered clerk is a dead-ringer for Manion. How can the police catch Manion and not keep arresting Jones? Well, a pass issued by the Chief of Police seems like a good solution, but when that information hits the papers as well (thanks to Reporter Healy (Wallace Ford), Manion develops his own plan.

Mr. Robinson is quite impressive in the dual roles. Using him is an interesting and effective casting decision; it toys with the audience's familiarity with him in his gangster roles, by throwing another characterization into the mix.  Mr. Robinson doesn't rely on makeup or vocal changes to differentiate the characters - he uses his posture and his face. The audience always knows which character is which because of his skill in demarcating one man from the other. Clearly the star of the film - and the romantic lead - his performance also shows the skills that would make him a magnificent - and powerful - character actor as he aged. 

Following his success in Little Caesar (1931), it appeared that Edward G. Robinson was doomed to a career of gangster roles. So, when Columbia pictures wanted to borrow him for The Whole Town's Talking, he initially balked (TCM article). Under suspension and pressed for cash, Mr. Robinson eventually agreed to take the part. The film was so well received that there were rumors he would be nominated for an Oscar. However, Jack Warner used his influence to block the nomination - he didn't want a Warner star nominated for another studio's film (Little Caesar: A Biography of Edward G. Robinson by Alan L. Gansberg).
Jean Arthur is appropriately sassy as Wilhemina "Bill" Clark, the woman of Arthur’s dreams. He secretly writes poems to her, addressing them to Cymbeline; poems which she mocks (not knowing Arthur is the author). When she realizes that Arthur is a double of Manion, she becomes fascinated with the timid clerk. And while Bill finds Arthur's bachelor apartment exactly as she suspected (even to “a canary bird”), she has mellowed enough to find this endearing. We were especially amused by Bill’s discussions with the police, as she yells “Manion” to every crime about which they inquire. This film was something new for Ms. Arthur and contributed to her future in films like Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939) and Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936) (Women in the Films of John Ford by David Meuel).
It's surprising to realize that the film was directed by John Ford. One doesn't often think of him in relation to films of this type, but he had directed contemporary American stories before (John Ford: The Man and His Films by Tag Gallagher). In his autobiography, Edward G. Robinson had nothing but praise for Mr. Ford. The pair bring a gentle comedy to the film - Arthur is amusing, but never mocked.

A quick tip of the hat to the always amusing Donald Meek as Hoyt, the first person to confuse Arthur with Manion  - his efforts to claim the reward for finding Manion are really funny (it's not a surprise that he's having a problem getting the money, since he keeps turning in the wrong person). 

We do wish the police were a little less stupid - the idea of giving Arthur a note, and then letting a reporter put that in the newspaper is so tantamountly idiotic that you can only shake your head at this plot device. Regardless, this is a very small complaint in an otherwise enjoyable picture.
When it opened at Radio City Music Hall, The Whole Town's Talking received a glowing review from Andre Sennwald at the New York Times. This was the first of Mr. Robinson's films to open at Radio City and was a huge success for the studio (Little Caesar: A Biography of Edward G. Robinson by Alan L. Gansberg). 

The story was adapted from a novel by William R. Burnett, the author of Little Caesar (which would certainly help explain Mr. Robinson's initial reaction to the role). Working titles were Jail Breaker and Passport to Fame (AFI catalog).  In February 1941, Jeff Corey took on the story for the Lux Radio Theatre.

This is a fun film, and one we wholeheartedly encourage you to view.  We'll leave you with a clip from the opening of the film:

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