Showing posts with label Louis Hayward. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Louis Hayward. Show all posts

Monday, December 16, 2019

Ida and Her Sisters

Ellen Creed (Ida Lupino) works as a companion to Leonora Fiske (Isobel Elsom), a retired actress with savings that will keep her living comfortably for the rest of her life. Ellen works to support her two sisters, Emily (Elsa Lanchester) and Louisa (Edith Barrett) in London. The sisters, however, are somewhat odd in their habits, and their landlady has demanded that Ellen remove them from her boarding house immediately. In desperation, Ellen asks Miss Fiske if the sisters can visit with her at Miss Fiske's house for a short time. But when the short time extends to six months, Miss Fiske has had it.  Our film this week is Ladies in Retirement (1941)


A melodrama very much in the vein of Night Must Fall (1937), the film's power is driven primarily by the performance of Ida Lupino. Playing a woman who should be much older her 23 years  (TCM article). Ms. Lupino gives the character grit, and emphasizes that this is a woman who feels overwhelmed by circumstances. Clearly, Ellen is the breadwinner for the family. She's tried leaving her sisters on their own. She's exhausted her last chance of supporting them from afar - their landlady has threatened to have them institutionalized. Ellen's desperation is evident as she tries to keep Louisa and Emily with her. But the two women, one a temperamental hoarder and the other a grown child, are not controllable, even with Ellen there. Keeping them at Miss Fiske's abode is her last chance to protect them, but their continued antics make this impossible. Ms. Lupino would later list it as one of her favorite film roles (TCM Notes).
Louis Hayward (Albert Feather) was married to Ms. Lupino at the time this film was made. He's good as the shady Albert; he makes the character even likeable at times, though one is always suspicious of his motives.  Mr, Hayward started his career on the London stage, a protege of Noel Coward. In 1935, he did a Broadway play; this led to his first film role, The Flame Within (1935). He was cast as the first Simon Templar in The Saint in New York (1938), but is probably best remembered for his performance in The Man in the Iron Mask (1939). When World War II broke out in the U.S., he joined the Marines, commanding a photographic unit and eventually producing the Oscar winning short With the Marines at Tarawa (1944). He returned from the war severely depressed, which caused the breakup of his marriage to Ms. Lupino (Ida Lupino: A Biography by William Donati). He would marry twice more, the third producing his only child. His career continued, in both film and television until 1974. In 1985, he died of lung cancer (he'd smoked four packs a day for 50 years), at the age of 75.
Emily  and Louisa are well acted by Ms. Lanchester and Ms. Barrett - they give the characters just the right amount of insanity, so that, for awhile, you are able to sympathize with them and with Ellen. Rosalind Russell had expressed interest in playing one of the parts. Also in consideration for the sisters were Lillian Gish, Judith Anderson, Pauline Lord, Laurette Taylor and Helen Chandler (AFI Catalog). 

Evelyn Keyes does a reasonably good job as Lucy, the housemaid (in fairness, it's not a great part). She spends most of her scenes with Mr. Hayward, and he steals all the audience's attention. As I said, he's quite the rogue. 
  Based on a 1940 Broadway play (which ran for 151 performances) the screenplay was written by Garrett Fort and Reginald Denham, based on Mr. Denham's script with Edward Percy. The play starred Flora Robson as Ellen, Estelle Winwood as Louisa, and Isobel Elsom who reprises her role of Miss Fiske in this movie.

It's not surprising that the film received two  received two Oscar nominations - for Black & White Art  Direction (Lionel Banks and George Montgomery) and for Score (Morris Stoloff and Ernst Toch). Though we know that the film was shot on a backlot, the film gives the feeling of the moodiness of the moors, and is reminiscent of atmospheric Wuthering Heights. The score also makes interesting use of the music from The Mikado; of course, it is a comedy, but it is the story of Ko-Ko, a man forced to become the Lord High Executioner of Titipu. The film got other awards:  Isobel Elsom received the Best Acting nod from the National Board of Review (NBR); Ida Lupino received a joint Best Acting Award from NBR - for this film and for High Sierra.

New York Times review was positive calling Ladies in Retirement "painstakingly done, beautifully photographed and tautly played."  The story been redone several times. In September 1943, Lux Radio Theatre presented Brian Aherne and Louise Barrett.  Robert Montgomery Presents (1951) had Lillian Gish and Una O'Connor in a television broadcast. 1954 saw a version with Edith Barrett, Elsa Lanchester & Claire Trevor as part of the Lux Video Theatre. The film was remade as The Mad Room (1969) with Shelley Winters and Stella Stevens. 

While our group had some mixed feelings about the film (one member said she found it sometimes frustrating), the consensus was that it's certainly a film worth watching.  If you like melodramas, this one is for you.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Dr. Ann

The Flame Within (1935) stars Ann Harding as Doctor Mary White, a successful psychiatrist in New York City.  For many years, she has been pursued romantically by Dr. Gordon Phillips (Herbert Marshall). Mary is aware, however, that Gordon will expect her to relinquish her career as part of their marriage and she is not ready to be just a housewife.  When Lillian Belton (Maureen O'Sullivan) attempts suicide, Gordon and Dr. Jock Frazier (Henry Stephenson) consult Mary on her treatment.  Mary discovers that Lillian is deeply in love with Jack Kerry (Louis Hayward), an unrepentant drunkard, and it is Lillian's fear for his life that drives her to suicide.  Mary determines that saving Jack is the best way to cure Lillian.  But there are consequences. 

In the pantheon of films about women doctors, this is one of the weaker ones.  Ann Harding is quite good as Mary, but the script gives her no help in creating a convincing character.  That you like and believe in Mary at all is due to Ms. Harding's abilities as an actress (according to this TCM article, she was Barbara Stanwyck's favorite actress, and with good reason!).  Released as the Production Code was being firmly enacted, it often feels like the screenwriters don't know what to do with Dr. White; as a result, the character goes from a strong, successful, independent career woman to an impulsive, dependent housewife. 

It's clear at the beginning of the film that Dr. White is good at her job, and well respected by her peers. Even Dr. Phillips, who wants her to stop working and be just his wife, refers his ailing patient to her care.  Despite this, nothing that she does from the moment she meets Lillian Belton convinces us that Mary actually knows what she is doing. Lillian attempts suicide in despair over Jack Kerry's alcoholism.  So Mary decides to cure Jack, and that will cure Lillian.  There is a highly regarded alcoholism specialist on staff, but Mary doesn't even consult him.  And how does curing Jack take care of Lillian's exaggerated co-dependence? The first time they have a fight, Lillian is probably going to again attempt a swan dive out a window. What the writers know about psychiatry one could engrave on the head of a pin.
On the plus side, alcoholism is treated as a disease, not as a joke (even if it can be treated successfully in two weeks), with specialists attached to the field. And the seriousness required to study medicine is addressed in Mary's early speech to Gordon, when he (AGAIN) asks her to give up her career to be his wife. "No work? Just Mrs. Gordon Philips, housewife? Oh what did I give up my youth for? Why did I give up most of my life to this thing if I were just to forget it and throw it away as if it had never been... it's more than a profession. It's a religion." 

It's hard to warm up to Herbert Marshall as Dr. Philips.  If he is so in love with Mary, why does he put conditions on their marriage? He seems to not love her, but loves his vision of her. At the same time, his pursuit is almost stifling, and he comes across more as a stalker than as a passionate lover. The unhappiness that will come with her selection of him over career is just not important to him.  As a result, he is unlikable, cold, and unbending.
Maureen O'Sullivan is good, if a bit manic in the role of Lillian.  At one point, the part was earmarked for Merle Oberon (AFI Catalog). Ms. O'Sulllivan had already made a name for herself in Hollywood with her appearance as Jane in Tarzan, The Ape Man (1932), notably for an apparently nude swimming scene with Johnny Weissmuller (she would ultimately appear as Jane in 6 films). She appeared in a variety of films in the 1930s and beginning of the 1940s, including The Barretts of Wimpole Street (1934), A Yank at Oxford (1938) and Pride and Prejudice (1939).  By the 1950s, she was primarily appearing on television; and in the 1960s, she changed to work on Broadway, both acting and producing.  She was married from 1936 until 1963 (his death) to director John Farrow; they had eight children including Mia and Tisa Farrow. In 1983, Ms. O'Sullivan remarried, and was with her second husband, James Cushing until her death in 1998 (at the age of 87) of a heart attack.

We were less impressed with Louis Hayward, a good actor who deserved a better part.  Mr. Hayward gets to do little that justify the passion of two women for his inebriated man about town.  Interestingly, it was Mr. Hayward's performance that was most lauded in this New York Times review

In some respects, this film almost feels like a precursor to Spellbound (1945), where we have a psychiatrist who becomes emotionally (and unprofessionally) involved with a patient.  Regardless, the film is worth a look, especially when compared to Kay Francis' pre-code women doctor films such as Mary Stevens, M.D. and Dr. Monica, or with Ms. Harding's other venture into medicine in The Right to Romance (1933).