Ronald Visits India

The life of Lord Robert Clive (Ronald Colman) is recounted in Clive of India (1935), a somewhat fictionalized account of his beginnings as a clerk for the East India company through his rise as a military officer and later diplomatic official.

Let's begin by saying that this is a very loose interpretation of the live of Robert Clive. For one thing, Lord Clive, as portrayed by Ronald Colman is a much nicer person than the real Lord Clive, who has been referred to by William Dalrymple as "an unstable sociopath" (The Guardian) because of his treatment of the Indian people. Clive's death is still a bit hazy - it's quite possible that he killed himself; at the very least, his dependence on opium was surely a contributing factor. Nevertheless, this filmed account of Clive makes him far more heroic than the real man ever was. (For more on Robert Clive, visit this Wikipedia article.)

Regardless of its take on history, this film belongs entirely to Ronald Colman. He is in nearly every scene, and dominates the movie. There are a number of fine supporting actors, but most have so little screen time, you are likely to miss some of them. Mr. Colman is not afraid to make Clive annoying at times. He's not really going for totally heroic - his Clive is ambitious, impulsive, violent at times, and a tad greedy. What the film does want to do is to mitigate Clive's attempted destruction of the Indian people in his quest for money (TCM article). It's all for their own good, and Colman is pretty much stuck with that attitude.

Loretta Young as Clive's wife, Margaret Maskelyne, is little more than window dressing. She is included to look supportive and sad, and gets to do very little else. A scene in which she leaves her sick child to accompany Clive back to India is created out of whole cloth - the Clives had nine children (four died in infancy), but their oldest boy, and the child born just before Robert and Margaret returned to India, Edward Clive, 1st Earl of Powis, lived to the age of 85. Why the screenwriters (R.J. Minney and W. P. Lipscomb) felt it necessary to insert this dismaying episode is beyond our ken. (It's also rather irksome that both parents refer to the child as "the boy". Really? Don't his parents know his name?)

Colin Clive, who has two very brief scenes as Clive's adversary  Captain Johnstone, was in fact a descendant of Robert Clive. Colin Clive was nearing the end of his career, though his second turn as Dr. Frankenstein in The Bride of Frankenstein, was released in May of 1935 (our film was released in January). Mr. Clive started his film career as a leading man, but by 1935, he was becoming a supporting actor, perhaps due to his increasing dependence on alcohol. He died two years after Clive of India, of tuberculosis exacerbated by his alcoholism.

Even though he was only in a couple of scenes, it's always a pleasure to see Cesar Romero. Cast as  Mir Jaffar, an Indian lord, Mr. Romero brought to mind his portrayal of Ram Das in The Little Princess (1939). We wondered if this role led to his being cast as Indians in both the The Little Princess and Wee Willie Winkie (1937). Mr. Romero always played his parts - even when portraying a villain - with a bit of a twinkle in his eyes. Clive of India is no exception; it would have been nice to have seen more of him in the film. Mr. Romero was not the first thought for the role - it was to have been given to George Regas (AFI catalog).

While there are some good scenes in the film - those with the battle elephants were quite impressive - this film is not going to be ranked among Mr. Colman's best. For Colman aficionados, it's worth a look. Otherwise, see Random Harvest or A Double Life.

Ronald Breaks the Bank

Paul Gallard (Ronald Colman) arrives at the Sports Club in Monte Carlo with an empty suitcase, and proceeds to win 5 million francs at the baccarat table. He departs with his winnings, telling the newspapers that gambling is a fool's game to which he will never return.  Miffed, the casino administration begin to move heaven and earth to get The Man Who Broke the Bank at Monte Carlo (1935) to tempt him back to the tables, and hopefully, lose.

Most of the action in the 71 minute film is at the very beginning and the end. In between, there is the feeling that the screenwriters were killing time until we could get to those final scenes. It's not that the film was dull - it really wasn't. But it was hard to know exactly where the movie wanted to go and what tone it wanted to strike.

While this is not one of Ronald Colman's best roles, he is delightful as Paul (this was released the same year as Clive of India and A Tale of Two Cities - two powerhouse parts for him). He also has a very good rapport with Joan Bennett (Helen Berkeley) in their second film together - they had previously appeared together in Bulldog Drummond (1929). As in that film, it is clear that Mr. Colman is the star; unfortunately for Ms. Bennett, the part of Helen is not really well defined. As Ms. Bennett and Mr. Colman didn't work together after this, one wonders what would have happened had Ms. Bennett been given better written roles and a character able to go toe-to-toe with Mr. Colman.

Joan Bennett was born into an acting family. Her maternal grandparents were actors, as were her mother and father (her mother would eventually become a literary agent). Her sisters also were actors: Barbara and Constance Bennett. Joan appeared in two films (in 1916 and 1923), then was on Broadway (to which she would return in 1950, in Love Me Little) in Jarnegan (1928).  After two  uncredited film roles, she appeared as the ingenue in Bulldog Drummond.  With her blonde hair (her natural color) and youthful face, she was perfect for roles like Amy in Little Women (1933). Her career path would change, however, when future husband Walter Wanger and director Tay Garnett convinced her to go brunette for the film Trade Winds (1938). After that, she was a natural for roles like Kitty in Scarlet Street (1945). Married four times, her career all but ended when her third husband, Walter Wanger, shot Joan's agent in a fit of jealousy. She'd continue her career with regional stage performances (including the national tour of Bell, Book and Candle as Gillian). (In contrast, Wanger's career was not affected after he served his four-month jail sentence.) Television would prove a reentry for Ms. Bennett - she won an Emmy nomination for her role as Elizabeth Collins Stoddard in Dark Shadows (1966-1971). In 1970, she published her autobiography The Bennett Playbill (written with Lois Kibbee), and continued to appear in TV movies. She died of a heart attack in 1990, at the age of 80. For more on Joan and sister Constance, see this article from the Bill Douglas Cinema Museum at the University of Exeter.

Two excellent, but sadly brief performances are turned in by Colin Clive (as Helen's nefarious brother Bertrand) and by Nigel Bruce (as Paul's valet, Ivan). Mr. Clive is deliciously nasty; it's a shame he has so few scenes. And Mr. Bruce gets most of the really good lines. He's really funny, and not at all the buffoon that he would play in his later career.

Sylvia Sidney was originally considered for the role of Helen, and John Ford was to direct - an accident on his boat gave the director's chair to Stephen Roberts (AFI catalog). The film's title is taken from an 1890's music hall song, resulting in the studio being sued by the heirs of  songwriter Fred Gilbert, for violation of their copyright; they eventually lost the suit.  You can hear the song sung by music hall comedian Charles Coborn in the video below - you'll notice the song has nothing at all to do with the plot of the movie. The song would actually be sung in several films, including The Magnificent Ambersons (1942), Lawrence of Arabia (1962) and Alien: Covenant (2017). (TCM article).

The New York Times reviewer was not impressed with the film; they somewhat liked Ronald Colman, but were quite hard on Joan Bennett (really, she doesn't have a strong script. We thought they were being unfair).  It wasn't until May, 1946 that a radio version aired on Hollywood Star Time, with Rex Harrison and Lurlene Tuttle as the leads.  Perhaps the film is justifiably forgotten today, but it's worth seeing for Colman alone. He's always a treat.

As promised, we'll leave you with the song on which the title was based.

William Has The Key

Paedar Conlan (Donald Crisp), a Sein Fein official, is on the run from the British military in 1920s Dublin. He's being sought by Captain Andrew Kerr (Colin Clive), an officer in the Secret Service. Andrew and his wife, Norah (Edna Best) have a good marriage, though Andrew knows that she once loved another. Their life becomes more complex with the arrival of Captain Bill Tennant (William Powell), Norah's former love. Thus begins The Key (1934).

A compact film, The Key proved to be interesting plot, if a bit weak at times. We discussed the rather oblique title at some length (was it called The Key because of Powell's entry into his commander's office? Or was Paedar Conlan The Key to all the problems? It's a mystery; and not a very revealing title). We were also bemused by an ending that felt tacked on.  Released in 1934, we suspect that concerns with the code may have altered the original ending. Regardless, it felt abrupt and slapdash.

The actual key to this film is William Powell. With the twinkle in his eyes, and his devil-may-care attitude, Powell saves the film from being a bore. When he is on the screen, you can't take your eyes away from him. Particularly nice were his interactions with a flower girl (played by Anne Shirley, back when she was still Dawn O'Day). We know that Tennant is a ladies' man, but his conversations with Ms. O'Day are gently flirtatious, an acknowledgement of her youth and obvious naivety. A consummate actor, Mr. Powell is never better than when he is a bit of rogue; he's always able to let you know that there is a gentle side to nature.

Colin Clive proves a good foil to Mr. Powell. His character is very straight-arrow; this allows Powell to give the action some much needed bounce. Mr. Clive had a very brief film career - only 18 movies between 1930 and 1937, the most famous of which was his role as Dr. Henry Frankenstein in the 1931 Frankenstein. During the same period, he appeared in 4 Broadway plays, including Libel, which would be made into a film in 1959. Whether Mr. Clive could have broken away from the super-serious plotlines into which he was being cast will never be known. He died in 1937 of tuberculosis complicated by alcoholism; he was 37.

This was Mr. Powell's last picture at Warner Brothers. He'd not felt well-used there; he selected The Key over another Philo Vance film and a movie called Dollar Wise (which does not seem to have ever made it to the screen). When his contract ended, he headed down the road to MGM, where he was teamed with Myrna Loy and Clark Gable in Manhattan Melodrama (1934). That paring with Ms. Loy was such a success that they appeared in another film that same year, for which Mr. Powell was nominated for the Best Actor Oscar - The Thin Man. Ultimately, Mr. Powell and Ms. Loy were in 14 films together. (TCM article; William Powell The Life and Films by Roger Bryant).

Mordaunt Hall in his New York Times review called The Key "a sturdy and effective melodrama" which is perhaps more praise than it deserves. He was particularly impressed with the performances of Mr. Powell and Mr. Clive; he even singles out Ms. O'Day for praise. While not a bad film, it's not Mr. Powell's best. But even his least is worth a quick view. We'll leave you with this clip from the film:

Bette Elopes

After Geoffrey Sherwood (Ian Hunter) is jilted by Valentine French (Katharine Alexander), Geoff goes on a bender, and shows up, quite drunk, outside of the church where Valentine is marrying the wealthy John Marland (Colin Clive).  Two police officers are about to arrest Geoff when Miriam Brady (Bette Davis) steps in and hurries Geoff to a restaurant to cool down and sober up.  When Geoff's friends (Hugh Brown and Tony Hewlitt, played by John Eldredge and Phillip Reed) suggest that Miriam can perhaps stay with him and keep him away from the wedding festivities, she agrees to remain with for a few hours.  However, by evening's end, she has become somewhat tipsy and ends up married to Geoff.  Though Miriam is ready to get an immediate divorce, Geoff suggests that marriage might be good for the two of them, and they decide to give it a go.  But, as Geoff's new business begins to become successful, and Valentine gets bored with her husband, the marriage is threatened. 

Thus begins The Girl from 10th Avenue (1935).  This is a very tightly scripted piece.  There's not a lot of fluff, and with a running time of 69 minutes, the story moves quickly from one scene to another. It's an excellent cast, with Davis at her most appealing as the down-to-Earth Miriam.  A working girl in the best sense of the word, Miriam has lost her job sewing labels into clothing.  Her education is fairly limited, but she is happy to learn from her upper-crust husband.  Eager as she is to please Geoff, however, she never loses her moral compass.  In that sense, she is reminiscent of  Madalaine in recently discussed Child of Manhattan. Bette Davis is able to imbue her with a aura of capability and integrity that makes Miriam a strong and attractive character.

We were sorry not to have seen more of Colin Clive, who is wasted really in the role of John Marland.  He only gets a few scenes, and John is a fairly passive role; he is constantly manipulated by his wife, and seems uninterested in anything requires effort.  Regardless, we wanted to see more of him, and see the character better fleshed out.  Clive is probably best known today for his title role in Frankenstein (he was the Dr., NOT the monster!!), but he also played Rochester in the 1934 Jane Eyre and was in the cast of Clive of India, which was the story of one of his own ancestors (no, he didn't play the historical Clive).   Colin Clive started his career on the London stage, and was cast as a replacement for Laurence Olivier in Journey's End, a role he reprised in the film version (with director James Whale, who would later cast him in Frankenstein).  His career was short - he died in 1937, at age 37 from pneumonia, exacerbated by his severe alcoholism.  His wife did not come to the funeral.

The part of  Valentine is ably played by Katharine Alexander.  We've seen her before in the film In Name Only as Carole Lombard's sister, Laura, and as Claude Rains' favorite nurse in Now Voyager.  She gives Valentine a supercilious air, which is effective in playing up the differences in upbringing between her and Miriam.  It also makes her eminently unlikeable.  Thus, it's hard to envision why two men are so passionate about her.  She's cold, and cruel.  She's also no beauty (though she does have a phenomenal wardrobe).  Alexander had a interesting end to her career.  As film roles began to diminish, she went to London, where she appeared in the Paul Muni production of Death of a Salesman, playing Linda Loman.   Her reviews were outstanding, so Alexander decided to go out on a high note, and retired after  her success there. She died in 1981, at the age of 83, 

Finally, there is my personal favorite character in the film, Mrs. Martin, as played by the always wonderful Alison Skipworth (Mrs. Martin).  We are familiar with her from previously viewed films, such as Devotion and The Gorgeous Hussy.   In this film, she plays a former showgirl (who "almost" prevented the birth of Tony Hewlitt.  Seems his father proposed to her).  She owns the building in which Miriam has an apartment, and becomes a second-mother and tutor to the girl.  Though Mrs. Martin is, as we learn, quite sassy, she is tactful as she tries to instruct Miriam in correct grammar and behavior.  But when Marian finally confronts Valentine in a restaurant, it is Mrs. Martin that we watch.  Her enjoyment of the situation is very funny. 

We leave you with a reference to an excellent article from TCM, the film's trailer, and brief bit of trivia about the title.  Why is Miriam from 10th Avenue? Well, in 1935, the part of 10th Avenue on which she lived was called "Hell's Kitchen", and was best known for the its poor, working-class - and tough - inhabitants.