Stood up again by her philandering boyfriend, Sheridan "Sherry" Warren (Robert Montgomery), Marcia Townsend (Joan Crawford) resolves to never see him again. He convinces her to give him another chance, but it turns out to be another another night of Sherry's dalliances, and Marcia leaves. Realizing Sherry is about to lose her, he proposes, and against her own, and her grandmother Fanny Townsend (Edna May Oliver)'s better judgement, Marcia agrees to marry him. But Sherry is no more committed to monogamy than he was before the marriage, so Marcia decides it's time for No More Ladies (1935) The positives of this film are the excellent cast - Joan Crawford, Robert Montgomery, Franchot Tone, Edna May Oliver, Gail Patrick, Charlie Ruggles, Reginald Denny, and Joan Burfield aka Joan Fontaine (in her screen debut). The negative is it's an awful script. Based on a 1934 Broadway play, which starred Ruth Weston, Lucile Watson, and Melvyn Douglas, the film is long and ultimately boring. (Ms. Weston and Ms. Watson were originally supposed to reprise their roles in the film (AFI catalog)). One major problem is the character of Sherry Warren. Sure, Mr. Montgomery is extremely attractive but Sherry is a womanizer, and everyone knows it. He's already broken up one marriage, he uses and dumps women regularly, so what Marcia could possibly see in him is never really clear. She's got the equally attractive Jim Salston (Franchot Tone) pursuing her, so why settle for a man who is never going to be a husband? Tis a mystery.
The actor that stands out in the film is Edna May Oliver. She gets the best lines and as always, has the most fantastic delivery. Born in 1883, Ms. Oliver was already on Broadway by 1916. By 1932, she had appeared in 11 musicals and dramas, including the original Show Boat (1927) in which she played Parthy Hawks. Her film career began in 1923; she would appear in 48 films, including A Tale of Two Cities (1935), Drums Along the Mohawk (1939) (for which she was nominated as Best Supporting Actress), David Copperfield (1935), and 3 films as amateur sleuth Hildegarde Withers. Quite frankly, she always managed to steal the film, even though her parts were usually supporting roles. She died at age 59 in 1942. We always enjoy seeing Gail Patrick (Theresa German), but she's wasted in this film. She, however, was grateful for the part - she'd been suggested by Ms. Crawford, who looked after her on the set, having her own makeup man work with Ms. Patrick. (TCM article). Why Ms. Patrick is asked to sing and play the ukulele, is beyond our ken. She's a lovely woman and an excellent actress, but she can't sing (and her repertoire seems inappropriate for this society party).
Franchot Tone and Joan Crawford had already appeared in three of their seven films together, and were married the year this film was released. They only have a couple of scenes together, but even with that little screen time, they seem like a better match than Marcia and Sherry. Their marriage would last until 1939, but their (eventual) friendship lasted til the end of Mr. Tone's life, with Ms. Crawford caring for him when he was dying of lung cancer. Charlie Ruggles as Sherry's continually drunken friend Edgar Holden is amusing in the beginning, but the character begins to wear thin after a few scenes. And with the exception of one scene towards the middle of the film (when Edgar is someplace he's not supposed to be), it's a mystery why he is even there. The scriptwriter keeps trying to find ways of incorporating him into the action. All it does is slow the film down further. Arthur Treacher appears briefly as Lord Knowleton - whose unintelligible English accent is shown twice - then he speaks perfectly normally. The question again is why?
Since this is an MGM picture, we also have the benefit of outstanding set direction by Cedric Gibbons, and lovely costumes by Adrian. But it's not enough. The New York Timesreview by Andre Sennwald is dismissive "Out of the labors of the brigade of writers who tinkered with the screen
play, there remain a sprinkling of nifties which make for moments of
hilarity in an expanse of tedium and fake sophistication." Sadly, we agree. So, unless you are a complete-ist for one the actors involved, this is one to pass on. Below is a clip from the beginning of the film.
Suzy (1936) stars Jean Harlow as Suzanne "Suzy" Trent, an American showgirl living in London during the first World War. She meets inventor Terry Moore (Franchot Tone), who quickly falls in love with Suzy and convinces her to marry him. But when Terry is murdered by a group of German spies, Suzy, afraid she will be accused of the crime, runs to Paris. There, she meets a French flyer, Andre Charville (Cary Grant); it's nearly love at first sight, and the two quickly wed. Things get complicated when she discovers that Terry was not killed in the attack, and that Andre still has an eye for the ladies.
As always, Jean Harlow is wonderful in a part that could come off as rather sleazy, but in her capable hands becomes charming. Suzy announces her ambitions to marry a rich man in the first scene, but when push comes to shove, she is just too intrinsically honest to let money influence her decisions. Certainly, some bits of the plot seem transparent - we KNOW the German spies will be back, and we are aware that Terry is alive when Suzy thinks he's been murdered. In spite of this, it's a story that keeps you involved, with just enough twists to keep you engaged. And while this TCM article comments that at least one reviewer felt that casting Harlow in a drama was a huge waste of her talents (likewise this New York Times review would banish her completely to comedy), her subtle humor is a big help in the film, and her dramatic talents completely live up to the script.
It's always a pleasure to see Cary Grant in anything - even when he is a cad (and a third billed cad at that!) He's one year away from his magnificent (and arguably starmaking) performance in The Awful Truth, but his aura is already there. When he's on screen, it's hard to take your eyes off him. He had been loaned to by Paramount to MGM for this film, much to his disgust. It was only when he was allowed to work with screenwriter Lenore Coffee to make his character more palatable that he agreed to participate. The work shows. He and Coffee create a man who is a scamp, a spoiled brat used to getting his own way. But they imbue him with just the right amount of charm so that the audience understands Suzy's deep love for him. It's interesting to note that Clark Gable was at one point considered for the role.
Suzy really has two loves in the Charville household - her affection for Baron Charville (Lewis Stone) is also boundless. The Baron is initially horrified at his son's impetuous marriage to a showgirl, but grows to love her for her caring ways. Lewis Stone, who would go on to acclaim as Judge Hardy in the Andy Hardy series, is quite wonderful in this film. With just the slightest flicker in his eye, he conveys both his affection for Suzy as well as the knowledge that the letters she is reading from his neglectful son are made up for the Baron's benefit. Much as she truly loves Andre, by film's end we know that her actions are motivated more by her love for her father-in-law.
Andre's paramour, Madame Diane Eyrelle is played by Benita Hume. Ms Hume started her acting career on the London stage (she would also appear in one Broadway play in 1930), switching to film acting in 1925. In 1926, she appeared in Easy Virtue, directed by Alfred Hitchcock and written by Noel Coward. She segued easily into talkies, but was primarily relegated to supporting roles. When she married Ronald Colman in 1938, she retired from films, though she did frequently appear on the Jack Benny radio show with her husband, playing Benny's neighbors. Eventually, the Colmans even had their own radio (and later TV) show, The Halls of Ivy. Colman died in 1958. The following year, Ms. Hume wed George Sanders, a union which lasted until her death of bone cancer in 1967. Below is a small piece from Colman and Hume in the TV version of The Halls of Ivy (from 1955, with a little Mary Wickes for good measure!):
We'll end today with the scene, noted in this entry from the AFI Catalog as one that is frequently shown in retrospectives. And why not - we get to hear both Jean Harlow (dubbed) and Cary Grant (not dubbed) sing! The song, "Did I Remember" (Music by Walter Donaldson; Lyrics by Harold Adamson), was nominated for an Oscar in 1936 (It lost to "The Way You Look Tonight" from Swing Time, Music by Jerome Kern; Lyrics by Dorothy Fields).
Grace Moore was a Broadway performer and Metropolitan Opera star long
before she began to make films. She has been credited with popularizing
opera on screen, and was important enough to the film community that
she was given equal billing to Maurice Chevalier (which he did NOT
endorse. In fact, it drove him from Hollywood), and was often given
over-the-title billing as MISS Grace Moore. Any film featuring Miss
Moore is bound to contain many songs, and at least one operatic number.
Thus, The King Steps Out (1936) gives us Miss Moore (as Elizabeth/Cissy) singing her heart out to Franchot Tone (Emperor Franz Josef) The plot is fairly simple. Cissy, the daughter of Maximilian, Duke of Bavaria (Walter Connolly) is a free spirit who would rather be out in the woods than in the palace. Her older sister Helena (Frieda Inescort) is in love with Captain Palfi (Victor Jory). But with 6 daughters to marry off, the Duchess Louise (Nana Bryant) and her sister the Empress Sophia (Elisabeth Risdon) have agreed to a match between Helena and Sophia's son, Franz Josef, much to Cissy's disgust. So, Cissy follows her mother and sister - with her father in tow - to try and stop the wedding. Of course, given her predilection for peasant clothing, the Emperor mistakes her for a seamstress, and Cissy is not inclined to disoblige him of his error.
While this is not a great film, it is amusing. It has a pleasant (though unsurprising script), with songs thrown in helter skelter to maximize Miss Moore's talents. Loosely based on the the true story of Emperor Franz Joseph, who ended up marrying the younger sister of his intended, it feels like Pride and Prejudice meets The Merry Widow. The film did well financially (though reviews were tepid) - this TCM article will give you more information about the film's history, and the director, Josef von Sternberg.
The biggest complaint we had
about the film was that the scenes at the fair went on a little too
long. However, we were all quite taken with the gypsy woman (Eve Southern,
an actress whose career extended back to the silent era), who is the
smartest person in the film. She is the only one who recognizes the
Emperor and who realizes
that Cissy is in love with him. Southern's breezy portrayal makes the
character a memorable one,
Grace
Moore is approximately 38 in the film (she looks about 30) and is
supposed to be playing a 20 year old. She PLAYS it young, but you
aren't deceived for a moment - she's actually several years older than her co-star, Tone. She's not a bad actress, but she's here because of her magnificent soprano voice - it is that voice which sold the film. It's interesting that the "ordinary" people, not the intellectuals, are the ones that would have brought in those film revenues. (Today's producers would hide under a bed rather than risk money on an opera star.) Miss Moore would only appear on the screen til 1939, but she continued to perform - for the USO during WWII, and for various opera companies. She died in a plane crash in 1947.
Also in the cast, playing the older sister Helena, is
Frieda Inescort. While Helena at first seems the victim of much woe,
she turns out to be quite the witch - she dumps her boyfriend because
Franz Josef is cute, is quite nasty to her sister, and really is only
interested in Franz Josef because he IS the emperor. We rather hoped
that Captain Palfi caught onto the fact that Helena was no great catch.
Of course, we've seen Ms. Inescort before - she spent much of her career as the second lead or the other
woman in films - her aristocratic good looks played against her being a
"regular" person. She did not have an easy life, though. In the 1930's, she was diagnosed with multiple
sclerosis. After her husband's suicide in 1961 (they had been together
since 1926), her condition worsened. However, she used her fame to
bring the illness to the public's attention, collecting money for the
Multiple Sclerosis Society (from her wheelchair). She died in 1976, at
age 74. Quick nods to Franchot Tone, who is enjoyable
as the Emperor, even if his curly wig is a bit off-putting (he wears a
hat quite often, so that helped), and to Elisabeth Risdon as the
mother-in-law from hell. Even without talking, Risdon can give a look
that would scare any perspective daughter-in-law. Take a look for
uncredited William Hopper as a soldier and young Gwen Verdon in the
ballet troupe.
As we go, listen to Grace, as she sings to Franchot.
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.
Two years after Clark Gable followed Claudette Colbert to
Jericho, he was again portraying a reporter in pursuit of an heiress in
1936's Love on the Run. Gable plays Michael Anthony, an
eager reporter in competition with his best friend and roommate Barnabas
Pells (Franchot Tone). The men are unimpressed with the two stories
that they need to cover (an interview with an aviator, or the wedding of
an heiress) - they flip a coin, and Michael loses. Donning top hat and
tails, he heads off to cover the wedding of Sally Parker
(Crawford) to expatriate Prince Igor. However, what begins for Michael
as a bore, becomes an adventure as he watches the bride run OUT of the
church, sans groom, and barricade herself in a hotel room. Michael
convinces her he is NOT a reporter, and the two dash off in a series of
fairly silly adventures, with Barnabas in hot pursuit.
This is nowhere as good a movie as It Happened One Night
(which is what it wants to be. One can almost see L.B. Mayer growling
that he wants Gable reproducing the story for HIM - after Mayer loaned
Gable to Columbia as a punishment!!), but it is fun and Gable and
Crawford are a delightful pairing. Adding to the amusement is the
knowledge that Crawford and TONE were spouses, but clearly - on film -
the spark is with Gable. When they are on screen together, you really
can't take your eyes off them.
One really outstanding supporting performance here - Donald Meek as the caretaker of the Palace
of Fontainbleau. Having lived alone for many years, the caretaker
delights in his imaginary dog, Bismark and looks forward to visitations
from ghosts. Crisp is an absolute riot, and Gable and Crawford
especially join in the fun with him. (Plus, you get Gable dancing in
costume. You can't beat that). We won't go into the fact that three
people are able to break into the Palace and sleep for the night. It is
just a little too outlandish.
All in all, this is a film well worth your time if you would like a little laugh. Here's a trailer to get you started:
This week, we return to Joan Crawford with her 1937 outing The Bride Wore Red. Anni Pavlovitch (Joan Crawford) is a singer in a cheap dancehall. One night, her performance is seen by aristocrats Count
Armalia (George Zucco) and his friend, Rudi Pal (Robert Young). The
Count bets Rudi that he could take a member of the lower class, and pass
her off as an aristocrat. Rudi laughs off the suggestion, and leaves;
to prove his point, the Count offers Anni a two-week vacation, all
expenses paid, in an elite resort, on the proviso that she convinces
Rudi she is, in fact Anna Vivaldi, an aristocrat. Anni is soon buying
clothing, including a gaudy red evening gown - something she has desired
her whole life - and is off to the country to live a life of leisure for
two weeks. However, she soon decides she would rather continue to live
the life of an aristocrat - by seducing and marrying the already-engaged Rudi.
Filmed during the period of time when
Crawford was married to Franchot Tone (who plays the peasant Guilio,
the postmaster who loves Anni at first sight), the movie is a bit slow
in pace. Crawford is excellent as Anni, but it is rather hard to
understand why Guilio remains interested in her while she repeatedly is
nasty to him; just as it is equally hard to understand why Maddalena
Monti (Lynne Carver) stays true to Rudi. We know early on he is a cad
and philanderer. Why such a nice girl would stay with him is a mystery.
Much
of our discussion focused on Robert Young. Though a good actor, he never
really seemed to find his niche before he landed on TV. On the small screen he easily engaged the audience, whereas on the
big screen he always seems overshadowed by his costars. Here too,
Crawford and Tone are much more dynamic than Young. It is hard to
understand, money withstanding, why Anni would feel anything for Rudi.
Even as a skunk, he is rather banal.
Certainly
worth a look for this wonderful cast. And be on the lookout for Mary
Phillips as Maria, a former employee of Anni's dance hall who has found a
better life as a maid in the resort; and for Dickie Moore as Guilio's
young cousin Pietro. They add to the film immeasurably. You'll also get a chance to hear Crawford sing. Here is a clip:
It is also worth noting that the film was directed by Dorothy Arzner, the only
female director of this period.
None of us had seen 1933's Today We Live, so when we
discovered TCM was airing it, we were very eager to see it. A great cast
(Joan Crawford, Gary Cooper, Franchot Tone, and Robert Young) and a
marvelous director (Howard Hawks) led us to expect another forgotten
gem. But, it turns out, this one was probably forgot for a reason. The
word "turgid" rather sums up the odd movie. During WWI, Richard Bogard
(Cooper) has just arrived in England to rent a country mansion on the
day when his landlady, Diana Boyce-Smith (Crawford), finds out that her
father has been killed in action. Quickly, they discover they love one
another - only problem Diana is engaged to childhood friend (and war
officer) Claude Hope (Young), who is serving in the military with
Diana's brother Ronnie (Franchot Tone). Diana flees to the continent to
work in the war effort; Richard follows her, joining the air corps. Of
course, they meet. Of course, Ronnie and Claude are there too.
Complications, as they say, ensue.
This film is very much inspired by director Hawks' experience in World War I. Indeed, his earlier film, The Dawn Patrol, also looked at fliers during the war; his later Only Angels Have Wings
would be his penultimate tribute to the men who risked their lives in
the air. The problem with the film is that we have a bunch of obvious
Americans playing Brits. The writer seems to think that speaking in
clipped sentences is the way to convince the audience that his actors
are really English. It doesn't work.
This is clearly a pre-code movie.
Diana is no innocent. In fact, we realize that she is living with Claude
while in Europe. But other than that, it is not really all that racy,
or even romantic. The scene where Cooper and Crawford announce their
love for one another rather leaves the viewer going "HUH? Where did THAT
come from?" Too bad, really. They should have made an interesting
combination.
We'll be taking another short break from Crawford for
the next two weeks (while we wait for a few movie that will be aired in
July). Next week, we look at a comedy the great Jean Harlow. We hope
you'll join us.
This week, we decided to watch Dancing Lady (1933), famous for
Joan Crawford's only turn at dancing with Fred Astaire (it was his first
picture - as himself). In some senses, this movie is wannabe Busby
Berkeley. Watch the sillouhette scene, where we see young ladies
apparently undresssing, and then the reveal to show that they have
changed into a rather revealing costume for a good example of this.
Joan Crawford stars as the titled Dancing Lady - Janie Barlow, a
burlesque dancer who is determined to hit the big time. With the
assistance of high-society's Tod Newton (Franchot Tone), Janie gets a
letter of introduction to Patch Gallagher (Clark Gable), a Broadway
producer. Her dancing skills land her a part in the chorus; her
determination and pluck land her the lead in the musical.
Of
course, we have a love triangle here: Janie, Tod and Patch; though, in
some ways, her love of Patch is as much her love of dancing. Tod is
high society; he attempts to change Janie ("No shoes with bows on
them". "But I like shoes with bows!"), Patch loves her for who she is.
It is interesting that in some senses this triangle mimicked Crawford's
real life. There have long be rumors of liaisons between her and Gable;
she and Tone were married from 1935 to 1939.
Precode naughy bits
run through the movie. The previously mentioned dance number, the
burlesque strip that opens the film (and almost results in Janie's
imprisonment), a scene where Janie undresses for bed, as the flashing
neon lights outside her NYC apartment flash to reveal what her slip
covers. And then, there is Tod's interest in setting Janie up as his
lover (which she rejects). All rather racy by standards a year later.
Finally, there is the dancing in the movie. It is wonderful to see Astaire in his first picture, and of course his dancing is great. But Crawford, who did start out as a dancer is rather an odd dancer. Her style is rather flapper-ish - her arms and legs splay around. She's not really graceful.
We took a look at an earlier dance number that was featured in That's Entertainment, and it is pretty much the same. A trailer gives you an idea of some of the dancing:
Thankfully, Crawford turned to dramatic parts. We'll look at one of those next time.
The discussion for today will focus on Midnight Mary. We
were all fascinated to see Loretta Young play a prostitute/gun moll. One
is NOT used to her playing anything but the sweet innocent. However,
she was excellent in this, a tribute to her abilities as an actress.
Though Midnight Mary IS a traditional woman's picture, it is
also a condemnation of the Great Depression, and the conditions that
women faced as a result. Mary Martin ends up in reform school, primarily
because she is an orphan and has no one to defend her (when it is her
friend who is stealing). When she returns to the community, she is
unable to find work, and ultimately turns to prostitution just to pay
for food. We noticed that there are real similarities to the situation
facing Myra in Waterloo Bridge (we were discussing the the 1931
version - because it fit our "precode" focus, but this certainly
applies to the the 1940 version as well).
Quite a bit of our
discussion was about Ricardo Cortez, this time playing Leo, the mobster
(who is a really awful human being). He is, of course, so very different
in this than his role in Torch Singer. We found an
interesting comparison to Franchot Tone's Tom, who is our hero in the
film. Though he marries another woman after Mary rejects him, we felt
that Tone made the character a lot stronger than we would have
expected. We also liked Mary's relationship with him. Her desire to
protect him from her past was lovely; we also felt that he was well
aware of her past, and that it made no difference to him.
Here's a scene, featuring Loretta Young and Ricardo Cortez:
Next posting will be about another very interesting William Wellman film: Heroes for Sale.