Having not been paid by her employer for four months, housekeeper extraordinaire Lizzie (Ruth Donnelly) quits her job and heads off to an employment agency. She meets Joan Smith (Margaret Lindsay), a young married woman who is searching for a maid. But with her limited income, Joan can't really afford a maid of Lizzie's qualifications. Lizzie, however, is intrigued by Joan and her son Bobby (Ronnie Crosby), and agrees to take a pay cut to work in the household. Lizzie has a plan to bring Joan and husband Jimmy (Warren Hull) up to her employer standards. This week, we're discussing Personal Maid's Secret (1935). Every once in a while you fall into a film you've never even heard of, and that provides low expectations. Personal Maid's Secret is one of them. Originally entitled Living Up to Lizzie, (AFI catalog), it is in fact a delightful little comedy. While the plot is pretty transparent, the acting is so good that you warm to the film almost immediately. Leading the cast (though she got fourth billing) is Ruth Donnelly. Her Lizzie is a practical sort - she leaves her current employment confident that she can secure another position immediately. While she is qualified for a much more well-paid position, she takes on the job with the Smiths because she has a good feeling about them - and because she feels she can help them. Finally Lizzie is a woman with a past - we know it from the start, and when we discover the truth about her, she becomes even more endearing (we wondered if perhaps the film was originally written before the code, as some of the early hints about Lizzie's past suggest a bit of hanky-panky).
Margaret Lindsay gets first billing and is engaging as the young wife trying to help her husband make his way in the world of business. Jimmy is an insurance salesman, and as such, needs contacts. Lizzie suggests to Joan that the best way for Jimmy to get ahead is for the Smith's to entertain. But to do that, they'll need to have a display of affluence. Using her pin money and some ingenuity, Joan is able to get the ball rolling. Ms. Lindsay plays the part with warmth - there is never a suggestion that Jimmy needs to succeed to make her life easier. Their marriage is a partnership, and his success is hers as well. It's not often that one gets to see Frank Albertson (Kent Fletcher) play a good guy, but he does here, and is quite appealing as Joan's inventor-brother. As with the other characters, there is no hint of grubbiness - Kent lives with his sister because it is expedient for both of them. He is working - and working to develop a new engine carburetor, which he hopes will increase gas mileage. When he becomes enamored of Diana Abercrombie (Anita Louise), you root for him to get the girl. Ms. Louise is lovely as the wealthy young lady whose life is about to change. And it's nice to see Arthur Treacher (Owen) - as always, playing Arthur Treacher!
One 21st Century problem with the film is the character of Bobby. Bobby is fascinated by "colored" people (in the 1930s, "colored" was a polite term. Think of the NAACP). The Smiths had a maid who was African-American at one point, and Bobby clearly adored her. So, he's decided that he wants a friend who is African-American. But what makes his constant queries interesting is that Bobby doesn't really see race - he asks the very white Palmers (Henry O'Neill and Lillian Kemble Cooper) if their son is colored. So, while his questions can be a bit unnerving, it's also an interesting comment on the ability of children to accept regardless of race. The song "You've Got to be Carefully Taught" comes to mind. Our villain, Warren Sherrill, is convincingly played by Gordon Elliott. If he seems familiar, you might know him from his later career as a Western actor and the role Red Ryder - Will Bill Elliott. Born on a ranch in Missouri, Mr. Elliott came by his Western expertise naturally. He became a horse breeder, and retired to a ranch in Nevada after his retirement. He died in 1965 at the age of 61.
Given that this was a B movie, the set design and costuming are outstanding. The Smith's home needs to reflect their life, and the work done by Carl Jules Weyl are an important part of the story. Orry-Kelly did the costume design, and, as always, it is impressive.
The film was not widely reviewed, but Variety gave it a very positive review (Wild Bill Elliott: A Complete Filmography by Gene Blottner), as did the Sydney Morning Herald, which complimented Ruth Donnelly for "the warmth with which she plays this part and the perfectlon of the portrait's detail," and said the film itself is" shrewd and humorous and the conversation is so natural that the spectator is able to forget the plot, which contains no surprises." There ARE a couple of slight surprises, though by and large it's a convention plot; but with such fine acting and such appealing characters, you won't care.
We'll leave you with a trailer and a suggestion that you seek this one out.
Private investigator Bill Reardon (Melvyn Douglas) is trying to find the thief who robbed the jewelry store owned by Francine Nacelle (Margaret Lindsay) and her husband (Pierre Watkin). While he's preoccupied with this case, his wife, Sally (Virginia Bruce) is taking on new clients by pretending she is herself an agent. Highjinks ensue as Sally again complicates Bill's life and career in There's that Woman Again (1938) Some years ago, we saw There's Always a Woman (1938), the precursor to this film. Frankly, we didn't enjoy the first one all that much, and we disliked this one more. The crew seems to think they are making a new Thin Man movie, but they aren't even in the universe, much less the ballpark. The script is plodding, the characters are underdeveloped, and the character of Sally is just plain silly. With Joan Blondell in the part of Sally, you had a slight chance at humor, but Virginia Bruce, who really is quite a good actress in other films, is beyond annoying. It's not Ms. Bruce's fault really. She doesn't have any chemistry with Melvyn Douglas, and the script gives her precious little to do except get in the way of everyone. (Though hats off to her in the very last scene - the only funny one in the film!) Ms. Blondell was pregnant when shooting began (The Women of Warner Brothers: The Lives and Careers of 15 Leading Ladies by Daniel Bubbeo), and thus escaped being embroiled in this fiasco.
Though the film is only 72 minutes long, it feels as though the screenwriters needed to pad it out. And much of the padding makes no sense. The so-called comic bits go on for too long - there is a scene in a gym that has nothing to do with the plot and just goes on forever - and it's not funny. It's clear that they are not sure if they are making a comedy, a mystery, a farce, or pure screwball. Poor Margaret Lindsay has nothing to do in this morass of a movie. She is involved in one of the better scenes - a fairly ingenious murder - but otherwise you want to tell her to run as far away from the film as she can get. Watch The House on 56th Street or B.F.'s Daughter if you want to visit with her.
According to the AFI catalog, this film was supposed to be the second in a trilogy. Thankfully, that idea was mercifully put to sleep after this debacle.Columbia Pictures Movie Series, 1926–1955: The Harry Cohn Years by Gene Blottner says it all: "the comedy is forced and unfunny. The story lets the viewer down when the murderer is revealed long before Douglas comes up with solution. No wonder the series was cancelled after this one." We agree. This is one to pass up.
Following their dynamic introduction in The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946), Van Heflin and Barbara Stanwyck reunite in B.F.'s Daughter (1948). When Polly Fulton (Barbara Stanwyck), the daughter of wealthy industrialist Barton F. Fulton (Charles Coburn) meets Thomas W. Brett (Van Heflin) in a speakeasy, the sparks fly. Polly is almost engaged to Robert S. Tasmin, III (Richard Hart), an up-and-coming young lawyer who refuses to consider marriage until he has a stable income. Tom Brett is an economist, who is earning extra cash by lecturing, and who's books have decried B.F.'s capitalist methods. Despite this, the two fall in love and marry. But once Tom starts to become successful, his relationship with Polly - and with her beloved father - begins to deteriorate. While not the best Barbara Stanwyck movie ever made, this is an interesting and well acted film. Based on the novel by John P. Marquand (the author of H.M. Pulham, Esquire and the creator of Mr. Moto), the story centers on the relationship between Polly and Tom, and less on that of Polly and B.F., as the title implies. (This TCM article points out that the novel was much more of a political satire than the movie could ever include). The film establishes immediately the loving relationship between father and daughter; the tensions between B.F. and Tom are more fodder for the problems of the newlyweds than an issue for B.F. and Polly.
When you have an actress as strong as Stanwyck in the part (according to this AFI catalog entry, Katharine Hepburn was also considered for Polly), some things become much easier. Polly's need for something to keep her involved in her husband's life radiates from Stanwyck. When Tom no longer needs her to help manage his career, she throws her passion into creating a home worthy for him (or one that SHE sees as worthy of him!). As the war starts, a brief glimpse of Polly in a uniform immediately telegraphs her involvement in the home front efforts. Stanwyck makes Polly a woman of action, rather than a passive onlooker. Polly's finances become a recurring issue throughout the film. Bob won't wed her because he will not live off her money (actually, B.F.'s money). Thought Tom initially says that her money makes no difference to him - B.F. can continue to supply her with an allowance, since Tom doesn't want Polly to feel she cannot live the life to which she is accustomed -Tom reneges once he a success. The house she builds - with her money - becomes symbolic of what he sees as his dependence on her. A lovely desk, with a typewriter that mechanically hides under the surface becomes an irritant that Tom can't get past. Helfin's Tom is a bit of a disappointment, though it isn't Heflin's fault. He often seems petulant and inconstant. He demands that Polly need him, but when she does, he just isn't available. As a result, the character is more annoying than appealing.
The character that was perhaps the most puzzling was Martin Delwyn Ainsley (Keenan Wynn), a reporter who never seems to get much of anything right. We learn of him almost immediately, when B.F. listens to Ainsley criticizing B.F. for ostensibly bringing on the Great Depression (the film opens in 1932) . Polly meets Ainsley through Tom - of course, they are friends - and Ainsley is complicit in Polly's campaign to secretly get Tom a lucrative lecture tour. Though Polly has worked with Ainsley and welcomed him to her home, Ainsley betrays her confidence, and further fractures her already fragile marriage. Late in the film, a series of radio broadcasts show Ainsley's ineptitude as a commentator - his grand predictions continually prove to be wrong; Tom also says that Ainsley never gets anything right. If that is the case, is Tom wrong as well, since he has always held Ainsley in such high regard? It gives one pause.
We were all very impressed with the wonderful Margaret Lindsay as Polly's best friend, "Apples" Sandler. "Apples" (she has no real first name) is a loyal friend, a loving wife, and a smart, practical human being. She hasn't a mean or jealous bone in her body, and Lindsay plays her as a stalwart. Her love for Bob is true and deep, though she has an awareness of his regard for her. Ultimately, she is the one with the stable marriage, because she accepts Bob for who he is. A wonderful actress, who worked steadily in the 1930s and 1940s, Lindsay is probably best remembered as Henry Fonda's Northern bride in Jezebel (1938). She also appeared as Kay Francis' gambler-daughter in The House on 56th Street(1933) and as Olivia de Havilland's nasty aunt in Gold is Where You Find It (1938). By the 1950s, Lindsay was finding film work harder to come by, so she segwayed into episodic television. Never married, she had a partner, actress Mary McCarty. Lindsay died in 1981, aged 70.
Repeating her role as Stanwyck's mother is Spring Byington (Gladys Fulton), again playing (as she had in Meet John Doe) a gentle soul the total opposite of her assertive daughter. We get a brief glimpse of Marshall Thompson as a young sailor, and Barbara Laage (who would later appear in The Happy Road with Gene Kelly) is Eugenia Taris.
This New York Times review was not enamored of the film, and we did think that the ending felt abrupt and hastily slapped together. That being said, it's a good movie, with some excellent acting, and definitely worth seeing. We'll leave you with an early scene, with the Fulton family.
This week, we return to one of our favorites, the lovely Olivia de Havilland in the 1938 technicolor epic Gold is Where You Find It. Olivia plays Serena Farris, the daughter of Colonel Ferris (Claude Rains). She is at odds with her wastrel brother, Lance (Tim Holt), who has no regard for the land, while she endeavors to build a fruit orchard on the farm.
Enter Jared Whitney (George Brent), the new mining foreman at the Golden Moon Mining Company. He shares Serena's love for the land, but at the same time, he is the person now responsible for its destruction. He befriends Lance, loves Serena, and earns the enmity of the Colonel.
Set in California's Sacramento Valley, the story is both a romance between Serena and Jared as well as the more serious story of the effects of hydraulic mining on the environment. The film vividly portrays the damage caused by high-pressure mining, and on the farmers who are trying to live and work in the midst of this destruction. The opening is done in an almost documentary style, making its statements about mining even more powerful. That much of the back-story - the mining itself, its consequences, and the lawsuits initiated by the farmers (specifically Edwards Woodruff v. North Bloomfield Mining and Gravel Company) increase the impact of the film. This chapter from the Public Policy Institute of California may be of interest to those of you who would like more information about this period of history.
Filmed in Technicolor, Gold is Where You Find It was likely the first western to use the process. (It was also a test balloon for The Adventures of Robin Hood, an attempt to see the results of the process. Interestingly, Michael Curtiz directed both films). The special effects are tremendous - though today, we can spot the miniature work for what it is, in 1938 (and on a big screen), it must have been amazing. And if you want to see a really beautiful scene, watch the very last shot. The technicolor vistas will take your breath away. We've got some amazing performances here as well. Let's start with the lovely Olivia. Serena is only 17 years old when the film begins. The character is well named. Though she has a temper, there is a serenity about her when she works in her orchard. She rather reminded us a bit of Candide, looking to create the best of all possible worlds in her small piece of land.
George Brent's Jared is a good man, in the best sense of the word. He wants to do his job, and do it well, but he also understands and appreciates that his work is creating damage. He wants to change it, but he is hamstrung by the greedy, careless men for whom he works. He loves the land, and falls in love with Serena because she is so much a part of the land. Margaret Lindsay (Rosanne Ferris), who is married to Colonel Ferris' dull and avaricious brother Ralph (John Litel) is literally a piece of work. Flirtatious in the worst sense of the word, she has no love for anyone. She has no interest in her niece and nephew. Then again, she apparently has no children herself; she's selfish and vain enough that children of any age are a burden. We loved her line to Serena to "not call her Aunt, just Rosanne". Heaven forbid anyone suspect she has an adult niece!! The costuming of Serena and Rosanne give us more information. Look at the lovely, simple country clothing, contrasted with Rosanne's citified, overdone gowns. We learn a lot about the women from the way they are dressed.
Claude Rains as Colonel Ferris is, as always, amazing. He is in the midst of a firestorm, with tensions between him and his brother and between him and his son. Rains' attitude towards Brent is understandable; he sees him as stealing his daughter, corrupting his son, and destroying his farm. Ultimately, Ferris is shows as a fair man; Rains lets us see the goodness in the man, even when we most dislike his actions.
Tim Holt gets very low billing in the film, but he treads a fine line in his portrayal of Lance. And he succeeds admirably. He manages to show a young man who clearly has depth, but chooses not to always plumb it.
Finally, one of our favorite moments happened about midway through the film, when we meet Senator Hearst, whose son "Willie wants to be a journalist". The senator is horrified - running a paper will never make a profit!
For an interesting analysis of the film, visit the article on the TCM website about the film. Here is a trailer:
The House on 56th Street (1933) is a fascinating film. In it, Kay Francis is showgirl Peggy Martin, who has two men very interested in her: Monte Van Tyle (Gene Raymond), the scion of a wealthy family, and Lindon
Fiske (John Halliday), who has been involved with Peggy for some time.
Peggy falls in love with Monte; Since Lindon is quite clear that he is
"not the marrying kind", it is an easy choice for Peggy. So, despite
Monte's mother's objections, the couple wed and are quickly blessed with
a daughter. Years go by, with Peggy and Monte living happily - even
Mama Van Tyle (Nella Walker) has gotten used to her daughter-in-law.
Then, at a party, Peggy meets Lindon again. She is concerned at his
appearance, as Monte knows nothing about him. Add to this, Lindon does
not look well. Kay is concerned, and her concern is her downfall in
this drama.
Rather than give too much away, we'll
stop with the plot there, even though it forbids us doing more than
mention two important characters: Bill Blaine (Ricardo Cortez) and
Eleanor (Margaret Lindsay). The two are pivotal to the plot, and are
wonderful. Both show up in the latter half of the film. To say more
would be to ruin this wonderful picture for you.
Kay
Francis has to age over 20 years in this film. The motif that the
director, Robert Flory, uses to demonstrate the passage of time is
subtle but effective - we see Peggy playing solitare, as newspapers
flash up important events of the day.
The film is
also interesting in that it discusses with some seriousness the problems
of compulsive gambling. In 1949 Barbara Stanwyck would powerfully
portray a woman with a severe gambling problem. This precursor to The Lady Gambles is no less impressive, as it discusses an issue few other films were willing to examine.
When you get to the end of this film, you will understand WHY the code began to be an issue. We suggest you give it a try.
