Robert Goes to College

As part of their 100th Birthday salute to Vivien Leigh AFI Silver ran the 1938 film A Yank at Oxford. I had never seen this film before, so it was with a great deal of pleasure that I was able to go and see it for the first time on a big screen.

Robert Taylor stars as Lee Sheridan, a highly lauded jock at Lakedale State College.  Though well-liked by fellow students, and by his instructors, Lee has a notoriously big head.  This attitude has been aided and abetted by his father, Dan (Lionel Barrymore), editor of the local newspaper, who thinks nothing of holding up delivery of the paper so he can put in a headline about Lee's latest sports achievement.  Lee's starring role in the athletics department has not, however, caused him any scholastic damage.  He has done well enough that he has been selected by the College dean for a scholarship to Cardinal College, Oxford University.  While at first reluctant to leave his father and the newspaper job that awaits him, Lee finally agrees to his father's wish that he attend Oxford.

Of course, Lee being who he is, the first thing he does upon meeting some Oxford classmates is to brag about his athleticism, and what a break Cardinal College is getting in having his skills at their disposal.  So, Paul Beaumont (Griffith Jones), Marmaduke Wavertree (Robert Coote), and Paul's sister Molly (Maureen O'Sullivan) collaborate in a plan to put Lee down a peg.  When Lee discovers the trick, he is bound and determined to return to the U.S., but the intervention of his servant,  Scatters (Edward Rigby) convinces him to stay.  He excels at Cardinal, both academically and athletically.  He also falls in love with Molly.  The complications? He is being pursued by a married woman, Elsa Craddock (Vivien Leigh), who is also pursuing Paul.  And he has annoyed the Dean of the College (Edmund Gwenn).

 

A Yank at Oxford was filmed in the U.K., using British actors, a British director, and British film crew.  MGM had to find ways to circumvent the Cinematograph Films Act of 1927, which imposed quotas on the number of foreign films in the country, and therefore (hopefully) bolster the British film industry. By sending heart-throb Robert Taylor over to England,  MGM would fulfill the letter, if not the spirit of the regulation - they would get this film into distribution in Great Britain. And, if the experiment worked, it was a way of producing other films that could more easily be marketed in Great Britain - and the United States - creating a revenue stream for the studio.  This TCM article on the film, as well as the substantial essay, British Films, 1927-1939 discuss the Cinematograph Films Act of 1927 and its affects on British and American production.

Robert Taylor is quite good in this film.  He succeeds in making Lee likeable, but also in making you want to smack him for his inflated ego.  He really is the focus in this film; the other characters revolve around him, and he does an excellent job in holding it all together.  

The casting of the women is very interesting.  Maureen O'Sullivan plays an ingenue, but an intelligent one.  She is also attending Oxford, and clearly is no slouch academically.  She also has a definite moral compass, and it is Molly, more than anyone else, who succeeds in teaching Lee about being a team player.  Vivien Leigh, on the other hand, portrays a rather sly character.  A year before she will come to American attention as Scarlett O' Hara, Leigh plays a philandering wife who is loyal to nothing but her own sexual desires.  Interestingly, given the time period, she isn't really punished for her appetites.

It's also a pleasure to see Edmund Gwenn, Lionel Barrymore and Robert Coote in small roles.  Coote had already appeared in two American films, but most of his work was in the U.K. His Wavertree, a fairly innocent young man whose major goal is to get sent down (expelled) from Oxford (in an effort to impress a wealthy uncle) is a riot. Try as he might, Wavertree is just too naive to succeed in being bounced.  One wishes there was more screen time with Gwenn and Barrymore; regardless, they stand out in the scenes in which they appear. 

All and all, this is an excellent film, made even better by seeing it on a big screen.  Here is a trailer from the film, in which the British production angle of this film is emphasized:

Historical Joan

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.

Barbara Dances

We again visit Barbara Stanwyck in the precode era, with the wonderful Ten Cents a Dance from 1931.  As taxi dancer Barbara O'Neill, Stanwyck is smart and honest.  She has caught the eye of wealthy businessman Bradley Carlton (Ricardo Cortez), however she is much more interested in Eddie Miller (Monroe Owsley), a down-on-his-luck neighbor.  She asks Bradley to give Eddie a job, which Bradley does.  Eddie asks her to marry him, which Barbara does.  However, Eddie is a cad - more interested in currying favor with former wealthy friends than being a decent husband, he wastes his money on fine clothing and gambling.  And he begins to have an affair with Nancy Sheridan (Martha Sleeper).  Which leaves Barbara struggling to pay the rent.

Monroe Owsley is here at his oily best.  It is sad that he died so very young - he died following a car accident, at the age of 37, his career just starting to take off.  We had seen him before, of course (in The Keyhole, which we discussed a bit ago). But here, though just as slimy, he has a more rounded character.  You want to see Eddie the way Barbara does at first, but Owsley lets us under his curtain. We see the weakness and the just plain callousness that lies beneath the surface.  Here's a scene between the two of them.
Again, we get treated to Ricardo Cortez playing a good guy.  At first, one is not quite sure of Bradley Carlton's motives. He seems like a good man, but is he just another man out for a good time? We see him through Barbara's eyes, and at first eye him with the same jaundiced glance that she has.  We want to like him, but like her, we need to discover what is under the surface. We're big fans of Cortez, and always find it a pleasure to see him as the hero.  


Finally, there is Stanwyck herself.  Barbara O'Neill is warm and kind, but she doesn't let people walk on her.  She tries to be straightforward and honest herself - ultimately, it is Eddie's dishonesty that will be the thorn in their relationship.  And Stanwyck can show us the whole of Barbara with merely a glance.

For more information on this film, do visit the TCM article on Stanwyck's Precode Films.  Also take a look at this article, which discusses the director of the film - Lionel Barrymore, whose severe arthritis was beginning to affect his career.

Kay is Not Guilty

This week, we looked at a very underrated PreCode film from 1931.  Guilty Hands  stars Lionel Barrymore as Richard Grant, a lawyer who discovers that his beloved daughter is engaged to Gordon Rich (Alan Mowbray), a client with a horrible reputation as a womanizer and abuser (Rich probably murdered his last fiance).  Grant tells Rich that if Rich continues with his plan to marry Barbara Grant (Madge Evans), Grant will kill him AND will get away with it.  He will make sure it is the "perfect murder".  

It's not giving too much away to reveal that Grant DOES kill Rich.  But from there, we will leave you in some amount of suspense.  Kay Francis is wonderful here as Rich's mistress, Marjorie West (this is a pre-code, after all), who loves him in spite of his engagement to Barbara (and fully intends to keep on seeing him after his marriage).  When Rich dies, Marjorie begins investigating his death.  With some interesting results.

Lionel Barrymore is fantastic.  He is sympathetic, and at the same time, sinister.  You want to root for him, but he is, after all, a murderer.  Yet he did it for a good reason. leading the audience to feel ambivalent about the conclusion.  It is also a plot that keeps you guessing, right to the very end.  Will Richard be caught? SHOULD he be caught? It's also fun to see Ms. Francis' Marjorie take command as an amateur detective.  Agatha Christie was just beginning to write Miss Marple in 1926 (but only as a short story in a magazine. She would not appear in book form til 1932).  One would need to go back, we suspect, to Wilkie Collins (The Lady and the Law, as well as The Woman in White) for an earlier female detective, so Guilty Hands heroine is quite a novel idea.

If you can see this picture, do so.  It is worth your time.  We think you will be surprised and will LOVE the ending.  We'll leave you with a scene from early in the film:

Garbo Coughs

1937's Camille, with Greta Garbo as the notorious Marguerite Gautier was the subject of our latest discussion.  Garbo, of course, is wonderful as the opportunistic courtesan who falls in love with the scion (Robert Taylor as Armand) of a well-to-do family.  While Marguerite resists the attentions of - and her feelings for - Armand, she finds herself desperately in love with him.  A summer alone with him convinces her that she can change to a simpler lifestyle, but the mores of the time interfere, and Marguerite is faced with a choice - stay with Armand, to his ruin, or leave him and break both their hearts.

Garbo is just remarkable here. Her silent era training is evident as she uses her face, her eyes and her body - rather than her voice, to show us Marguerite's physical deterioration.  She LOOKS sick - beautiful, but quite ill.  Yet she is not overstated or exaggerated.  She is the epitome of suffering, trying to summon her last ounce of strength to greet the man she chased away.

Also wonderful is Lionel Barrymore as Armand's father, Monsieur Duval.  Barrymore could play his character as a villain, but he does not.  Monsieur Duval is merely a loving father who dreads hurting a woman who seems to be very sweet, and very much in love with his son, but who will soon cause his downfall if they continue their relationship.  When one realizes that Barrymore is less than 2 years from being forced into a wheelchair for the rest of his life (he suffered from severe arthritis that prevented him from walking), one realizes that he is acting through his pain.

Robert Taylor, too, is excellent, with Armand's naivety shining from his youthful face.  Armand seems sometimes like a sex object - a lovely creature for Marguerite to adore.  Taylor fits that bill as well, but also is able to make you understand why Marguerite would give up everything to be with this lovely, gentle man.

This is a beautifully designed film as well, with magnificent costumes (by Adrian).  Our group had a bit of discussion on the tendency of some films to not quite get the hair style right for the period - which is NOT the case here.  The whole atmosphere of the film is perfection.  It is interesting to note that the silent version of the film is also available (on the DVD of Camille), with Rudolph Valentino as Armand and Nazimova as Marguerite.  It is certainly worth a look if only as a comparison to its magnificent remake.

Here is a trailer to the Garbo version: