Loretta Composes

Marion Cullen (Loretta Young) lives in a small town in Kansas with her parents.  The arrival of Jimmy Decker (David Manners), a salesman from New York, presents Marion with a new view on life - she's never felt she fit in her home, and Jimmy is complimentary of her ability as a songwriter. After a row with her parents - and the announcement by her mother that Marion was adopted - Marion decides to leave Kansas and make a stab at a songwriting career in New York, as well as a life with Jimmy. There's a problem - Jimmy is engaged to Enid Hollister (Helen Vinson), the boss's daughter. This week, we'll discuss They Call it Sin (1932).

This is a neatly done film - tight and enjoyable (69 minutes in total), with characters that you really end up liking. Even those people you think are the most heinous turn out to have streaks of goodness in them. Though a pre-code, most of the naughtiness is Dixie Dare (Una Merkel) in her slip and doing cartwheels that are perhaps a bit immodest.

The film, like many pre-codes, operates a lot on innuendo. We THINK our heroine Marion, may be having a relationship with Jimmy, but she isn't. Later, we think she might be about to bed Ford Humphries (Louis Calhern), but she doesn't. Marion is very much an innocent who spends the film learning to become stronger with adversity. Ms. Young does a good job of portraying that naivety, along with giving the character a strong backbone - this is a young woman who bounces with the punches, and is not afraid to stand up for herself.

There is one other piece of suggestion present in the film. Marion's mother (Nella Walker) is openly hostile to her child from the moment we encounter her. Later, we discover that Mrs. Hollister is not Marion's birth mother; Marion's mother was a showgirl, and Marion is illegitimate. Interestingly, though a religious man, Mr. Hollister is (Joe Cawthorne) is kinder to the girl. We also learn that he asked his wife to take in the orphan child - according to him, an act of "christian charity." Is it possible he is Marion's natural father? The film doesn't tell us the answer, but we left it wondering just WHY he was so eager to adopt the girl. It certainly isn't because his wife wants children.

The men in the film are secondary to Ms. Young; they are moths to her flame. David Manners is the titular leading man. He had recently appeared in both Dracula (1931) and A Bill of Divorcement (1932) (TCM article). Regardless, the character keeps disappearing from the action, and we don't really miss him. George Brent (Dr. Tony Travers) is also absent for a lot of the film; again, the viewer doesn't really care.  Louis Calhern, however, is a lot more interesting as a roué; when he is on screen, you pay attention. Mr. Calhern started his film career in 1921, and on Broadway in 1923, appearing in 28 plays over the course of his lifetime, including The Magnificent Yankee in 1948 (a role he would reprise on film in 1950) and King Lear. With his splendid voice, he was made for talking films, and his career as a supporting player would expand in 1931.  Often he was the villain (as in our film), or the boss (Notorious (1946)). He ventured into the realm of the musical when Frank Morgan died in 1949, taking on the part of Buffalo Bill Cody in Annie Get Your Gun (1950). Mr. Calhern was in Japan for Teahouse of the August Moon (1956) when he suffered a heart attack and died. He was replaced by Paul Ford, and his scenes were reshot, making his last film (another musical) High Society.

The supporting female characters are more interesting then the men. Helen Vinson is rather underused as Enid, but she's always excellent.  The star turn in the film, though, is Una Merkel as the effervescent Dixie Day. She's delightfully funny, and her little cartwheels add that little bit of pizazz (or "ginger" as Warner Brothers phrased in the TCM article above) that one expects in a pre-code . Ms. Merkel is always an actress to look forward to seeing - this film is no exception.

The gowns by Orry-Kelly are quite lovely, and we were impressed by the set design of Jack Okey.  The scenes of Penn Station are splendid, and for us, a piece of nostalgia. Demolished in 1963 (a controversial action at the time, and long bemoaned by New Yorkers - to quote architectural historian Vincent Scully "One entered the city like a God [now] One scuttles in now like a rat."), the building was a wonder of height and light. Mr. Okey used a combination of stock shots and sets to paint the picture of the station.

We'll leave you with the film opening and the suggestion that you give this one a viewing.

Joan's with Jimmy

We return to the pre-code era for Blonde Crazy (1931).  James Cagney stars as Bert Harris, a bootlegger and would-be con man who has an eye for the ladies and his sights set on the big con.  When Ann Roberts (Joan Blondell) arrives at the hotel where Bert works as a bellhop looking for a job, Bert helps arrange that she get it - assuming there will be a little quid pro quo in the romance department.  He quickly discovers that Ann is no pushover (which only makes Bert like her more).  He convinces her in joining him on a con - convince hotel guest (and lecher) Rupert Johnson (Guy Kibbee) to go out with Ann, and pony up some cash when a scandal is threatened.

Audience reaction  to this film (within our group) was mixed. Most of us enjoyed it, while one member did not care for the various con jobs that interspersed the story. But we uniformly enjoyed the combination of Cagney and Blondell. They are marvelous individually and sizzling as a couple.  Cagney sparkles as the vainglorious Bert, and when he gets his comeuppance, his reactions are spot on.  Similarly, Blondell is well able to convey the ambivalence that  Ann feels, a basically honest person driven to duplicity in the world of Depression America.  Mae Marsh (according to the AFI Catalog) was the original casting choice for Ann.

Joan Blondell had already been in 14 films and shorts when she received star billing in Blonde Crazy.  Prior to this film, she appeared as the second banana in films like Night Nurse, Illicit, and Big Business Girl.  She'd even appeared with Cagney in Sinner's Holiday (1930) and The Public Enemy (1931).  She would continue to be a lead at Warner Brothers throughout the 1930s, finally leaving to become an independent in 1939.  She continued to work in film until the end of the 1940s.  As film work dried up for the actress (who was now in her 40s), she moved to television, where she worked (including the occasional film role) until her death at age 73 in 1979.  Married three times (all of which ended in divorce), the ones best knows were to Dick Powell - which ended when Powell became involved with the younger June Allyson, and to Mike Todd (Blondell divorced him after he spent all her savings with his lavish lifestyle). 

This was not Ray Milland's (Joe Reynolds) first role in films.  He'd started in silent films, mostly in small parts, as Raymond Milland (his birth name was actually Reginald Alfred John Truscott-Jones), a name he would use in many of his films during the 1930s.  It really wasn't until 1940 that he began to get starring roles - The Doctor Takes a Wife, which we've already discussed, was one of those leading roles.  Four years later, he would appear in one of his best roles - the haunted Rod in The Uninvited. The following year, he would win the Oscar as Best Actor for his portrayal of an alcoholic at the end of his ropes in The Lost Weekend (his competition included Gregory Peck for The Keys of the Kingdom and Gene Kelly for Anchors Away).  In this film, he gets to run the gamut - and does it well.  His Joe Reynolds seems a loving, good man - the opposite of Cagney's Bert.  Ultimately, we discover that Joe is a dishonest cad, and Milland does a good job of making the transition, as well as making him an interesting foil for Bert.  Married for 54 years to Muriel Weber, Milland worked in both film and television until 1985; he died of cancer the following year.  His 1976 autobiography, Wide-Eyed in Babylon gave an amusing view of his years as a Hollywood leading man.

Also in the cast are Louis Calhern as Dapper Dan Barker and Noel Francis as Helen.  Ms. Francis' career was relatively brief - she appeared in 45 films between 1929 and 1937, many of the uncredited appearances.  Mr. Calhern, however, had a much longer career. He started in the silent era (in 1921), and continued working, primarily as the wealthy businessman or nasty conniver (as he is here).  He was the dying sybarite in The Man in a Cloak and  the oily businessman waiting for the world to discover the death of his rival in Executive Suite.  In his final film, he was as the deliciously lechy Uncle Willie in High Society.  He died that same year, 1956, while on location in Tokyo for the comedy The Teahouse of the August Moon.  

With multiple characters in the film getting away with all kinds of crooked activities, a scene with the lovely Ms. Blondell in a bathtub (and Mr. Cagney trying to get in for a gander), and another where Bert invites a more-than-willing young lady up to an empty hotel room, it's clear why this is easily placed as a pre-code film.  My fellow blogger at Pre-code.com notes in his review that the film has "everything lascivious about Depression-era film making and moralizing in one convenient package."  And despite a wishy-washy New York Times review, according to this TCM article, it did rather well at the box office.   The reason? James Cagney - just listen to him say "HON-eeey" a time or two and you'll be won over as well.

We'll close with this trailer (with the film's original title, Larceny Lane); you'll get an idea of just how Cagney will captivate you.  And, as the trailer says, together, Cagney and Blondell "are dynamite". 

Barbara Pines

Barbara Stanwyck has a relatively small part in Executive Suite (1954).  She plays Julia O. Tredway, the daughter of the late head of the Tredway Corporation, a respected furniture manufacturer, now headed by Avery Bullard (voiced, but unseen, by Raoul Freeman).  However, Julia and her love for Bullard are not the focus of the film; Executive Suite is the story of a critical moment in the history of the Tredway Corporation, as the company's various executives battle for control of the firm after the death of Bullard.

The film marks a reunion for Stanwyck and William Holden (McDonald "Don" Walling).  Stanwyck was the star of Golden Boy (1939), and Holden was a newbie when he appeared in the title role.  As the film rushes came in, Harry Cohn made it clear that was not satisfied with Holden's performance, and was going to replace him.  Stanwyck defended him, and worked with him to improve his performance (Check out this TCM article for that story and others).  Golden Boy became Holden's breakthrough role.  Stanwyck and Holden remained friends, and he tried for years to convince the Academy to present her with an Honorary Oscar for her body of work.  Ultimately, he did succeed, but by the time she received the award, he had died.  In this video, you can will see Holden's praise of Stanwyck at the 1977 Oscars, and her moving acceptance speech in 1983 as she expresses her affection for her "Golden Boy".
The film actually belongs to Holden's Don Walling, the head of Tredway's research and development arm, and on his evolution into becoming a leader.  Disillusioned by his mentor, Bullard, but nevertheless grieved by his death, Don becomes convinced that only he among the corporate vice presidents can keep Tredway afloat.  His passion for a quality product and for the continued stability of the company put him at odds with other members of the board of directors.  Holden gives Don the necessary sincerity and gravitas needed to lead a major corporation.  He also demonstrates a devotion to his wife Mary Blemond Walling (June Allyson) and son Mike (Tim Considine). While some of his colleagues consider him too young to lead a company, the film focuses on his growth into the new position.

Also remarkable is Fredric March as Loren Phineas Shaw, the chief financial officer for the company.  Shaw's economies have put him at odds with Don, having advocated for and won approval of a cheap brand of furniture that, while enhancing the company's coffers, proves an embarrassment to the firm's employees and to many members of the board. March gives Shaw a number of small tics that quickly define his character for the viewer - watch how he constantly wipes his hands.  His Shaw is a character you cannot like, and March is not afraid to make him, while not quite a villain, at the very least an unattractive individual.

A greater portion of the film's $1.25 million budget went to actors' salaries, and to good effect, because each actor gives a distinct three-dimensionality to the characters.  Though only in about 3 scenes, Shelley Winters is excellent as Eva Bardeman, the secretary and mistress of Josiah Walter Dudley (Paul Douglas). Walter Pidgeon's Frederick Y. Alderson gives us a man at the end of his career, who must face the fact that he will never rise to the heights of power that he always hoped was his future. But especially worth noting is the performance of Nina Foch as Bullard's executive secretary, Erica Martin.  Foch was nominated for an Oscar for her brief, but powerful performance as a woman who is privy to her late employer's secrets, but who is the soul of discretion.  In the clip below, Foch describes her conversations with the film's producer John Houseman and director, Robert Wise, as they took a tiny, weak part and made it into the small gem that you see today. To make Erica a real person, Foch and Wise created a backstory for her:
The film opens with point-of-view camera work.  Since we are seeing the world through the eyes of Avery Bullard, his sudden death is quite shocking.  As a result, we never actually see Bullard, not even a photo of him.  This allows the audience to create their own picture of him, based on the various portraits that his colleagues paint.

Also very interesting is the credit role.  We are all used to credits which show brief names of the characters' next to that of the actors, but Executive Suite gives us the characters full names - names that were not used within the film.  We learn that Don Walling's name is actually MacDonald, and that his wife's maiden name is Blemond.   Again, the character's begin to have a life outside the frame of the story - they have a past.  They will have a future.

We were unfamiliar with Lucille Knoch, who the end credits inform us was Mrs. George Nyle Caswell (the wife of Louis Calhern's manipulative George Caswell - another masterful character creation), not his mistress, as we all had assumed.  Ms. Knoch quite good in this part.   She had a relatively short career - this was possibly the largest role she ever had.  She seems to have stopped acting after 1957; she died in 1990.

Interestingly, the film did have a future, of sorts.   It was made into a TV show from September 1976 through February 1977.  It lasted for only 18 episodes, which is not surprising, considering the new show's competition was Monday Night Football, The Rockford Files, and the NBC Movie of the Week.   Given that competition, it's shocking that it made it past the first month.   Only the Don and Helen Walling characters continued in the TV show - they were played by Mitchell Ryan and Sharon Acker.  Even the name of the company was changed in the prime-time soap opera.  It was now the Cardway Corporation.  You can see a advertisement for the show on YouTube.

We'll leave you with a trailer from the film - an introduction to all the characters, including Stanwyck's Julia Tredway:

Barbara Wants an Inheritance

We return to the work of one of our favorite actresses, Barbara Stanwyck, in The Man With a Cloak (1951).  Ms. Stanwyck plays Lorna Bounty, a former actress who now serves as the housekeeper and mistress of M. Thevenet (Louis Calhern), a wealthy reprobate who is close to death.  Lorna and her associates  (Mrs. Flynn, played by Margaret Wycherly and Martin, played by Joe DeSantis) are impatiently waiting for Thevenet die, so they can lay claim to his fortune.  Unfortunately for them, the arrival of his grandson's fiancee, Madeline Minot (Leslie Caron) appears to be throwing their plans into a cocked hat.  So, when they try to prevent her from seeing the old man, Madeline seeks help from a stranger, Mr. Dupin (Joseph Cotten), a hard drinking reprobate, who thinks nothing of bilking the local tavern owner, Flaherty (Jim Backus) of his liquor. 

 

Barbara Stanwyck is just magnificent as Lorna Bounty.  She is gorgeous, sexy, and marvelously evil.  Her dislike of Thevenet shines from her eyes, yet she is like a cobra - her eyes draw you in, even as you realize she is going to bite you.  It's amazing that she was given second billing to Joseph Cotton, because, good as he is, SHE is the picture.  And her character is so much smarter than the others in the house.  It's hard not to admire Lorna, Stanwyck is that good.  This commentary from TCM doesn't agree with us.  They feel that she "doesn't quite succeed".  We beg to differ (caution - we're going to avoid revealing the ending, in case you've not seen the film.  The TCM article does have spoilers).

The costumes are by Walter Plunkett, and he does Ms. Stanwyck proud.  Her gowns are  lovely and lavish, appropriate for the way Lorna Bounty sees herself.  Plunkett was a gifted designer who worked in films such as Alice Adams, Adam's Rib, and a little movie called Gone With the Wind.  He worked steadily until his retirement in 1966; he died in 1982, aged 79. 

The Man With a Cloak was released only a few months after Leslie Caron's introduction to American film in An American in Paris. Ms. Caron does not dance here; she is quite effective as the innocent, thrown headlong into a world she does not understand.  Ms. Caron would continue her career, both during her years at MGM, and after, going from musicals to dramas and comedies.  She still continues working in film, has appeared on the Paris stage in Sondheim's A Little Night Music, and has written her autobiography, Thank Heaven.  For many years, she owned a bed and breakfast in Villeneuve-sur-Yonne.  She also has the distinction of having danced with Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, Mikhail Baryshnikov, and Rudolf Nureyev.  It's easy to class her only as a dancer, and forget that her dramatic work far outweighs her musical films.

Louis Calhern's performance as Thevenet is also spot-on.  He creates a character who is known to be disreputable, but Calhern is able to make him somewhat sympathetic.  A portion of Calhern's performance is silent, hearkening back to his beginnings in film, and his roots stand him in good stead.  A remarkable actor, with an exceptional career, he had already appeared in The Gorgeous Hussy, Frisco Jenny, and The Magnificent Yankee.  Still to come were wonderful performances in Executive Suite, Julius Caesar, and High Society - his final film.  He died in 1956 of a heart attack on the set of Teahouse of the August Moon.

Is this a great film? Probably not, but it is enjoyable, with a cast worth watching, and performances that are notable.  We leave you with a trailer from the film.  It is worth a look:

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.

Ruth Survives the San Francisco Earthquake

San Francisco was not the first movie to show the devastating effects of the San Francisco earthquake. In fact, Ruth Chatterton's Jenny in this week's Frisco Jenny also made it out of the wreckage. However, unlike the latter movie, the earthquake begins this movie, setting up a chain of events that drive our heroine to unwed motherhood and prostitution.  Of all the movies we've seen so far, this one had the most traditional "code" feeling. Jenny may become wealthy as a madam, but she had no happiness, and justice is served in the end (I won't reveal the ending). 

Our discussion focused on comparison to a few other movies we had seen in the past. First, we considered Female, also starring Ruth Chatterton. While that too results in a rather traditional ending, the character does not get her "just desserts" (if you will), and she is going to live happily, in spite of her rather unfettered lifestyle.  We also ended up looking at the earthquake scene again, and then comparing it to the earthquake scene in San Francisco.  We were fascinated that, in the latter, the earthquake is shown almost entirely in close up. A broken wagon wheel here, some falling bricks there, a face looking up - all seen almost exclusively from Blackie Norton (Clark Gable's) perspective, making for a very personal, very emotional set of scenes.  Frisco Jenny avoids close-ups, and Jenny is almost entirely removed from the action once she sees her father killed by falling debris.  Thus, the earthquake here IS the actor. Wellman combines stock footage with studio shots to show the destruction of the City from quake and fire.  It works beautifully, but is less a city of people than the latter film will be. When we return to Jenny, it is at least seven months later, and Jenny has concerns other than rebuilding the City. (Too bad she didn't run into Jeannette MacDonald in her distress. Imagine how much happier her life would have been!!)

Here is a trailer:



Next week, we venture on to precode Loretta Young!  Join us then.