Showing posts with label Robert Taylor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Taylor. Show all posts

Thursday, May 16, 2019

5 From the 50s

May 16th is National Classic Movie Day and to celebrate, I'm participating in this year's blogathon, Five Favorite Films from the Fifties. Be sure to follow the link to see the work of other bloggers, and find discussions of films you might never have thought to view.

As I've mentioned before, my favorite films change from day to day, so I've opted to pick five films I truly love in five different genres - comedy, musical, film noir, suspense, and western. My caveat is, if you asked me tomorrow, you might get a totally different list. I'm also going to avoid discussions of films we've previously covered (I'll link you over to a few noteworthy ones within my chosen categories). Regardless, all of these films are remarkable and definitely worth seeing. If there are some with which you are not familiar, get hold of a copy asap. You won't be sorry.





Tony Hunter (Fred Astaire) has all but retired when his friends, writers Lester (Oscar Levant) and Lily Marton (Nanette Fabray) try to entice him back to work with their latest play. They plan to get Jeffrey Cordova (Jack Buchanan) to direct it. Cordova, however, has grandiose ideas, including the addition of ballerina Gabrielle Gerard (Cyd Charisse) to the cast. With misgivings ("I am not Nijinsky. I am not Marlon Brando. I am Mrs. Hunter's little boy, Tony, song and dance man."), Tony agrees, but conflicts arise as rehearsals begin.

When it comes to musicals of the 1950s, Singin' in the Rain (1952) and An American in Paris (1951) (justifiably) come immediately to mind. But The Band Wagon (1953) is a film that should always be included in the list of great 1950s musicals. With Cyd Charisse and Fred Astaire performing one of the greatest dance numbers in movie history, plenty of comedy, and a love story, it's a film not to be missed.

In 1931, Fred and Adele Astaire (along with Frank Morgan and Helen Broderick) starred in the Broadway play, The Band Wagon. It was a musical revue; this film has nothing to do with it, though I Love Louisa and Dancing in the Dark were both performed in the play. The film has a script by Betty Comden and Adolph Green, who loosely based the story on Mr. Astaire. He'd tried retirement for a few years, but was coaxed back to star in the very successful Easter Parade (1948); his most recent film, however (The Belle of New York) that had not done well (for more on Fred Astaire and The Band Wagon see this article in The Paris Review). The Martons were based on Comden and Green (though the real-life writing duo were not married), and Cordova was based on  José Ferrer, who between 1946 and 1948 produced, directed, and/or starred in 8 Broadway plays - and did 10 more in the next three years! (TCM articles).

Jack Buchanan was not the first choice for Gregory Cordova - Clifton Webb was approached initially; Edward G. Robinson and Vincent Price were also considered (AFI catalog).  And while Vera-Ellen was at one pointed listed for the role of Gabrielle, one wonders if the failure of The Belle of New York led to her not being used.

The film was well received upon release; the  New York Times review by Bosley Crowther was enthusiastic. It was nominated for three Academy Awards for Best Story and Screenplay, Best Costume Design (Color) and Best Scoring of a Musical Picture.  With all the wonderful musical numbers, the one for me that stands out is "Dancing in the Dark," perhaps Mr. Astaire's most romantic number since he and Ginger Rogers graced the screen.  We'll close this section with a video of that delightful dance.






Dr. Benjamin McKenna (James Stewart) is on vacation in Morocco with his wife Josephine Conway (Doris Day), a well-known singer who retired to take care of their son Hank (Christopher Olsen).  They are befriended by Louis Bernard (Daniel Gélin), a Frenchman who asks way too many questions for Jo's tastes. Bernard is murdered and whispers to Ben that a statesman is targeted for murder. But the would-be murderers have their own plan - snatch young Hank to be sure that Jo and Ben don't contact the police.

The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956) is a remake of Hitchcock's 1934 film of the same name. The plots are similar, but this version has a lot more nuance. Hitchcock told François Truffaut that "the first version is the work of a talented amateur and the second was made by a professional" (Hitchcock by François Truffaut)

James Stewart had already appeared in Hitchcock's Rear Window (1954) and Rope (1948); they would work together one more time in Vertigo (1958). Mr. Stewart was attached to the project from the beginning; Doris Day was also Mr. Hitchcock's first choice for Jo, especially since he wanted part of the conclusion to replicate the search for Richard the Lionheart by his troubadour Blondel. (TCM article). Her song, "Que Sera, Sera," won the Academy Award for best song, became her theme song, and was used in two more of her films (AFI Catalog). An excellent dramatic actress, she portrays a strong woman who ultimately refuses to be cowed by the danger threatening her child. Ms. Day's recent passing has already contributed many caveats to her exceptional skills as an actress and singer. This film is further proof that she was a talented dramatic actress.


To my mind, The Man Who Knew Too Much is one of Hitchcock's great films that is often overlooked in discussions of his work. Perhaps because it was not seen for so many years - it was one of the five films that Hitchcock owned and refused to release (including Vertigo, Rear Window, Rope, and The Trouble with Harry) (Mental Floss article). The highly regarded Vertigo and Rear Window got much praise and viewing when the films finally came back to their audience in the 1980s. This one has just not received as much attention.

If you are ready to watch the master of suspense spin his web, watch The Man Who Knew Too Much; here's a clip of the trailer, with a bit of Ms. Day doing her famous song.







Pregnant and dumped by her no-good boyfriend Stephen Morley (Lyle Bettger), Helen Ferguson (Barbara Stanwyck) boards a train with only her meager belongings - Morley gave her the ticket to get her out of town.  She is befriended by newlyweds Patrice (Phyllis Thaxter) and Hugh Harkness (Richard Denning), who are on route to introduce Patrice - who is also pregnant - to Hugh's family. Patrice lets Helen try on her wedding band while they are in the ladies room; at that moment, there is a train crash. Helen awakens to discover both her new friends are dead, and Hugh's family thinks that she is Patrice. With her baby to think about, and No Man of Her Own (1950), Helen is faced with a massive decision - accept help from the Harkness family, or leave before they realize her deception.

No Man of Her Own is on my list of favorite film noirs, as well as favorite Barbara Stanwyck films. As a woman abandoned by the man she loved, Stanwyck is remarkable (as always). Her ethical dilemma is obvious - the love she has for her unborn child, versus the need to lie to people as kind as Mr. & Mrs. Harkness (Jane Cowl & Henry O'Neill). There is the further complication of her growing affection for Hugh's brother Bill (John Lund). If it is a touch melodramatic, who cares? When you get a performer like Ms. Stanwyck telling the story, you want to watch.

One of the things that really intrigues me is that Helen is clearly an unwed mother, yet there are no recriminations from anyone. Patrice is obviously aware that Helen has never had a wedding ring, and generously lets Helen slip on Patrice's ring. Originally, Helen was to have been a prostitute (AFI catalog), but in my opinion, Helen as a rejected lover makes for a more interesting story line.

When the DVD was released in 2016, the New York Times provided some interesting commentary about the film (Bosley Crowther disliked it when it was released in 1950). The film was based on a Cornell Woolrich story (I Married a Dead Man), it has been remade several times, with versions in Japan (Shisha to no Kekkon (1960)), in France (J'ai épousé une ombre (1983)), in India (Kati Patang (1970), and in America (Mrs. Winterbourne (1996).

This is top-notch Stanwyck - and not one that comes up all the time, so watch for it! This trailer will give you an idea of what to expect.







The beauty of The Quiet Man (1952) is that it is so much more than a comedy. It tells the story of Sean Thornton (John Wayne), who left his home in Ireland as a young boy to emigrate to America with his mother. He grew up with his mother's stories of his former home, their wee cottage, White-a-Morn and the roses that grew outside the house. Sean's life in America was a hardscrabble one, and as that life has become untenable, he retreats to Innisfree, and buys White-a-Morn. As he tries to settle into a country he doesn't know, he finds that his unwillingness to fight brings heartache to him, and to the woman he loves, Mary Kate Danaher (Maureen O'Hara).

The Quiet Man was based on a short story by Maurice Walsh; John Ford acquired the rights in 1937 and yearned to make it into a film (AFI Catalog). Republic Studios finally agreed to make it IF Ford, O'Hara, and Wayne would make a Western (read moneymaker - Republic considered Ford's little film a vanity project that would lose money), so the trio first did Rio Grande. Filmed in Ireland, with various members of the cast's and crews' families working on the film, Ford was also under express orders to bring in a film no longer than 2 hours. But, his final cut ran 2:09 - he showed it to his execs, and stopped the projector at exactly the 120 minute mark. They agreed to the longer time (TCM articles).

For me, the film is important for its portrayal of a strong woman who is trying to maintain her independence in a society that limits a woman's choices. Mary Kate, in hounding Sean to get her dowry, is not asking for money - she's asking for her independence. With his American upbringing, all Sean can see is that what's his is hers. Mary Kate wants "her [own] things about her," for they are what make the house and the marriage all her own. 

I could go on for hours about this film. As a child, I would watch it every St. Patrick's Day (and growl when they cut crucial scenes out. Thank heavens for TCM and uncut films!).  I've been in Ireland twice, and both times visited Cong, the little village in County Mayo where The Quiet Man was filmed. The Quiet Man is a song of joy about Ireland, and a tale of strength under pressure.








There are some truly remarkable westerns in the 1950s - Shane, The Searchers (1956), Johnny Guitar (1956), among others.  But one film that should be in this list is the excellent Westward the Women (1951). The story of a group of 140 women who are recruited by rancher Roy E. Whitman (John McIntyre) as brides for his hands, the film portrays with as much truth as possible the dangers and hardships that faced the pioneers who went west. Leading the caravan is Buck Wyatt (Robert Taylor), a hard-nosed scout with little faith in the venture.

The women are a tough bunch. There is our star, Fifi Danon (Denise Darcel), a saloon girl who wants a new start. The widowed Mrs. Maroni (Renata Vanni) wants a new father for her son Tony (Guido Marfuti). Patience Hawley (Hope Emerson) has lost her husband and son to the sea, and also wants a chance with a new husband.
 
Robert Taylor is letter perfect as the man who decries Mr. Whitman's plan as foolhardy, but grows to respect the women in his charge.  Early in the film, he speaks to the assembled group. He asks if any can shoot a gun - he's stunned when Maggie O'Malley (Lenore Lonergan) shoots the eyes out of a picture. His regard grows as he sees the women take on more and more responsibility as they struggle towards California.


Regardless of his star billing, this is a film about the women.  Hope Emerson especially paints a portrait of a woman trying to begin a new life. She brooks no nonsense from her colleagues or from the men who lead the trail. She's brave and forthright, and you adore her from her first "hokum-smokum". Rose Myers (Beverly Dennis), a young woman pregnant with an illegitimate child is also an interesting character - accepted and loved by the group, with no condemnation of her past indiscretion. As this TCM article notes Westward the Women goes deeper into creating a female vision of the westward progression. These are the Pioneer Women (the film's working title) who would tame the western frontier.

Frank Capra had planned to direct, with Gary Cooper as Buck, but eventually sold the project to William Wellman (AFI catalog), which I believe added a layer of realism that benefited the story enormously.  Bosley Crowther in his New York Times review has certainly missed the point of the film; I suggest you take a look at A Woman's View: How Hollywood Spoke to Women, 1930-1960 by Jeanine Basinger for further discussion on this very timely picture.  In the meantime, take a look at the trailer:


And thus, our Five from the Fifties - there are many more excellent options (I didn't include a film I love, The Girl in White (1954). That's for another day). Just head over to Five Favorite Films from the Fifties and see the other wonderful films that were selected. In the meantime, Happy National Classic Film Day!

Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Robert is Behind the Wall

After running his car off the road, Steven Kenet (Robert Taylor) is found in the vehicle with the dead body of his wife beside him. When it is discovered that Kenet has complained of blinding headaches and periods of blackout following brain surgery, his trial is postponed to discover if he is competent to be charged with murder. Dr. Ann Lorrison (Audrey Totter), a state psychiatrist, is charged with the task of evaluating Kenet. In the meantime, he'll be kept behind the High Wall (1948).

This is a thoroughly enjoyable film with some small issues, not the least of which is the character of Steve Kenet. As portrayed by Mr. Taylor, Kenet is a violent man, with an instinct towards strangulation when he is riled. We see him attempt to kill two people, and he hurts several more. Yes, he has good reason to be angry at William Whitcombe (Herbert Marshall), and he has suspicions about his wife once he arrives at Whitcombe's home. Regardless, his murderous fury is out of place for a man who is ultimately trying to prove he is not a killer.

Kenet's predilection for violence also makes it hard for us to believe that Dr. Lorrison could have feelings for him. Let's start with the obvious - Ann is his doctor; he is her patient. It's totally unprofessional for her to go above her duties as a physician. Plus, she has offered to watch after his child (which, quite frankly, is a bit dodgy as well. One way or another, having the child in her care prejudices her opinion of him). Steve also unleashes his violent behavior in her direction - not exactly conducive to loving behavior.
These points aside, High Wall is a tight mystery that keeps you interested throughout. According to this TCM article, director Curtis Bernhardt wanted to show Kenet as a man damaged by the War. Both Bernhardt and Taylor were veterans; Taylor plays Kenet as someone who is perhaps suffering from PTSD, with violent surges followed by periods of blackout in which he doesn't remember his actions.  It 's a conceit that works well IF you eliminate the love affair between Kenet and Lorrison.

We very much enjoyed Audrey Totter in the role of the psychiatrist. With the exception of her decidedly bad taste in men, Ms. Totter plays Lorrison as a professional woman who is confident in her ability to treat patients and bring them back to a mainstream life.  Ms. Totter's career tended towards roles as second leads in A pictures (such as The Unsuspected 1947) or as the lead in B films. But her B films tended to be film noir, and she shone as the femme fatale.  She was Robert Montgomery's object of lust in The Lady in the Lake (1946) and Richard Basehart's promiscuous wife in Tension (1949). In a 1999 New York Times article (an interview that included noir "dames" Marie Windsor, Coleen Gray and Jane Greer), Mr. Totter acknowledged that "the bad girls were so much fun to play..." When she and her husband, Dr. Leo Fred married (they were married from 1952 until his death in 1996), she slowed down her career to raise their daughter, occasionally appearing in television shows like Zane Grey Theatre and Lux Playhouse.  She continued working until 1987 (her final appearance was in an episode of Murder, She Wrote). She died, age 95, in 2013.
If you are used to Herbert Marshall as a good guy, this film will quickly dissuade you that he is only capable of being a nice guy. He plays Whitcombe as a sociopath - only interested in himself and quite capable of doing whatever it takes to maintain his own status quo. Without giving too much away, there is one incident that is so sudden, and so cold-blooded that you will literally gasp as you watch it happen.

Screenwriter Lester Cole was called to appear before HUAC eight months after the release of this film, resulting in his imprisonment and blacklisting. This was the last script that was produced under his name (AFI catalog); he was able to get three others sold using fronts. His star in our film, Robert Taylor, testified to HUAC that Mr. Cole was a Communist.
The High Wall was produced as a radio play on the Lux Radio Theatre in November 1949, with Van Heflin and Janet Leigh and the leads.  It received a positive review from Variety though it did not do well at the box office.

We'll leave you with this scene in which Mr. Taylor has a flashback. Next week, we'll be looking at another woman psychiatrist dealing with an accused murderer.

Thursday, January 4, 2018

Vivien Crosses the Bridge

Colonel Roy Cronin (Robert Taylor) is about to leave for the front during World War II. He walks across Waterloo Bridge (1940), and memories of his past enfold before us - memories of Myra Lester (Vivien Leigh), the girl he met on the bridge during an air raid in the last war, of their engagement, and of her fate.

The long and the short of our film version discussion was that this was, hands down, a better film. One reason is because of the chemistry between Ms. Leigh and Mr. Taylor. Though she wanted her beau, Laurence Olivier to play Roy (he had a prior commitment and was unable to appear), and stated that Mr. Taylor's casting was "a typical piece of miscasting. I am afraid it will be a dreary job..." (TCM Article), it's clear from the get-go that this was a perfect casting choice.

They had appeared together once before, in A Yank at Oxford (Ms. Leigh was the bad girl). Back in 1938, Mr. Taylor was clearly the star - here, we have equals, and that is one of the reasons this film works so well. We don't have to make allowances for a Roy who is obviously not as convincing as Myra.  Because of their talent, you really watch the couple fall in love.
Ms. Leigh shines as Myra. This film takes the time to give us more backstory to Myra. It also cleans up her story quite a bit (we're not in the pre-code era any longer!). Myra is an innocent in the beginning. A budding ballerina, with a spot in the Kirowa Ballet Company, run by the delicious tyrant Madame Olga Kirowa (Maria Ouspenskaya). Ms. Leigh is totally convincing as we watch Myra descend into a life of prostitution - desperation and hopelessness reflect in her eyes and in her very posture. It's a beautiful performance from an always amazing actress.

Ms. Leigh was born in India in 1913, and sent to England for schooling at age 6 (her parents didn't return to the UK until 1931). By 1932, she was married to Leigh Holman (they would remain friends until her death); the following year, she gave birth to her only child, Suzanne. Though Mr. Holman was not a fan of acting, Ms. Leigh returned to the theatre in 1935; her work there resulted in her receiving a contract from Alexander Korda. It was while she was appearing in the film Fire Over England (1937) that she met Laurence Olivier. The relationship - both theatrical and personal would endure beyond their divorce in 1960. Her career was a series of magnificent performances - both with Olivier and without. Her work with him in That Hamilton Woman (1941) is inspired, as is a wonderful performance in Caesar and Cleopatra (1945) with Claude Rains. Her theatrical roles also gained her much praise, most of it on the West End (often appearing opposite her husband). Ms. Leigh, however, was plagued by bouts of depression - her inability to become pregnant with Lord Olivier's child only exacerbated the condition. After their divorce, she began living with Jack Merivale; he was with her when she died of tuberculosis at age 53. Lord Olivier, who was in the hospital being treated for prostate cancer, rushed to her apartment, and helped Mr. Merivale plan the funeral. At a recent visit to England, I was able to see an exhibit with some of her papers - the Victoria and Albert Museum received the donation of her papers from daughter Suzanne Holman Farrington.
Similarly, Mr. Taylor is both charming and strong. The opening scene tells us so much. Though he is a good and forgiving man, and years have past since their love affair, we know that he still blames himself for Myra's fate. It is as though, when she gives him her good luck piece, she gives away all her luck. Roy has survived, but we know from Taylor's eyes that he is still married to Myra in his heart.

If there is anything that is a bit hard to believe, it is that Myra can't get a job. First of all, this is during wartime - fewer men should mean more jobs for women. Unlike Mae Clarke's Myra, this Myra makes it clear that she is not just looking for jobs as a performer. She's tried a restaurant and a dress shop. Can one imagine a dress shop turning away someone as stunning as Ms. Leigh because she has no experience? That one plot point is a bit of a stretch.
The film is also gifted with amazing character actors - Lucile Watson as Roy's mother, Lady Margaret Cronin is excellent. You yearn for Myra to confide in her - Ms. Watson transmits warmth and sympathy in her performance, and her hurt is palpable when Myra all but shoos her away. 

We also loved Maria Ouspenskaya turn as the nasty ballet school teacher. She all but spits out her venom towards her students, who are merely cogs in her company and not real people at all. As the instigator of all Myra's and Kitty's (Virginia Field) pain, she is an evil delight.

The New York Times review was rapturous in their praise for Ms. Leigh  - this was her first picture after Gone With the Wind (AFI catalog), and she did not disappoint them. They also spared some praise for Mr. Taylor, Ms. Watson, Ms. Field, and C. Aubrey Smith (as The Duke). If you only want to watch this story once, this is the one to pick (they even managed to get around the PCA's objections to the plot without degrading the plot). We'll leave you with Roy and Myra's encounter on Waterloo Bridge:

Monday, December 18, 2017

Robert is Eager

Johnny Eager (1941) (Robert Taylor), having served his time in prison, has been released on parole. He's working as a cabbie, and regularly visits his parole officer, Mr. Verne (Henry O'Neil), who firmly believes Johnny is on the straight and narrow. But Johnny has no intention of going straight, and uses his cousin Peg Fowler (Connie Gilchrist) and her daughter Matilda (Robin Raymond) as cover against discovery that's he's trying to open a dog track.  The venture is being held up, however, by D.A. John Benson Farrell (Edward Arnold). Johnny sees a way out when he meets Lisbeth Bard (Lana Turner), Farrell's much loved stepdaughter; her growing love for Johnny presents an opportunity to get the D.A. off Johnny's conniving back.

Johnny Eager is an engaging and entertaining film, primarily because of Robert Taylor's excellent portrayal.  He plays Johnny as a man on a journey to humanity.  At the beginning, Johnny is an actor, convincing one side that he is an upright citizen, and convincing the other that he is a heartless villain. The reality is somewhere in the middle, though Johnny himself considers he is the villain. Yet, early on, when he sends Garnet (Patricia Dane) away because he is not interested in her any longer, there is a kindness in his manner. Sure, he's setting her up for a fall, but he is genuinely trying to make it as painless as possible. He believes (and makes the audience believe) that he will return to Garnet once his fling with Lisabeth is over.  Taylor's genuineness makes him persuasive.
Van Heflin as Jeff Hartnett, Johnny's alcoholic best friend, won an Oscar for this portrayal. A decent actor, we still were not convinced that the performance was worthy of an Oscar. Still, in looking at the competition, which included William Bendix in Wake Island, Walter Huston in Yankee Doodle Dandy,  Frank Morgan in Tortilla Flat, and Henry Travers in Mrs. Miniver, we didn't strongly feel that there was a worthier performance among the nominees (though it was a mystery as to why Claude Rains wasn't nominated for Now, Voyager). Regardless, Mr. Heflin does a good job with a character who is hard to make engaging. Jeff is a weakling, and while his affection for Johnny is obvious, his willingness to tolerate Johnny's actions when he clearly believes them wrong, makes Jeff a character who is more despicable than the sociopathic Johnny. Mr. Heflin would later call this his favorite role (AFI catalog).
The film depends very much on the chemistry between Mr. Taylor and Ms. Turner (or TnT as they were called in the ad below). It certainly is there, but the idea of Ms. Turner's Lisabeth as a student social worker is a bit of a stretch.  According to this TCM article, the romance between the two stars was real (though Ms. Turner denied an actual affair). Mr. Taylor allegedly told his wife, Barbara Stanwyck that he was in love with Ms. Turner, but Ms. Turner broke up the relationship before an actual divorce took place.

We especially enjoyed a brief appearance by Glenda Farrell as Johnny's ex-girlfriend Mae Blythe. Now happily married, Mae comes to Johnny to request that Johnny use his influence to get her husband, a beat cop, a better assignment. We know what Mae does not, that it was Johnny who had her husband shipped to the boonies. Ms. Farrell takes the small role, and makes it quite memorable.
The New York Times review was positive; the Lux Radio Theatre would reprise the film in 1946, with Mr. Taylor and Mr. Heflin repeating their films, and Susan Peters subbing for Lana Turner.  We'll leave you with a scene featuring TnT together.

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Joan Meets Greer Again

When Jimmy Lee's (Robert Taylor) proposal of marriage to Mary Howard (Joan Crawford) is rejected, Jimmy begins to suspect he has been replaced in Mary's affections. He is distressed to discover that his rival is the very married publisher Rogers Woodruf (Herbert Marshall). Based on Mary's theory (as purported in her new novel) that the rejected wife and new lover can have an intelligent conversation about the affair, Jimmy maneuvers Clare Woodruf (Greer Garson) into a meeting with Mary, without either knowing about their mutual lover.

We discussed When Ladies Meet (1941) several years ago, but with the opportunity to discuss it in the context of the Harding/Loy version, we decided to view it again. As with the prior film, the plot hinges on the relationship between Clare and Mary. One real problem with this verson is that Joan Crawford's Mary becomes quite annoying.  The film requires that you be able to like both women, but it is hard to like Mary. She's snobbish and affected (taking on the personality of Rogers). As a result, you begin to wonder why anyone would like her.  Plus, where Ms. Loy appeared innocent and somewhat naive, Ms. Crawford SEEMS more knowing, and that sophistication works against her characterization. With Mary and Clare more obviously played as contemporaries (where there seemed almost a big sister-little sister affection between Ms. Harding and Ms. Loy), Mary should know better than to be taken in by a cad like Rogers.
That the first film was pre-code, and this one is firmly within the Code era makes very little difference. The stories are exactly the same, and we still have little bits of double-entendre (primarily from Spring Byington as Bridget Drake). The character of Walter del Canto (Rafael Storm) is played as though the actor intends him to be gay (which was not the case in the original). The racy plot is still not all that racy.

Spring Byington  is a marked improvement over Alice Brady. She plays Bridgie as a tad risque, but essentially sweet. She has a much lighter touch than Ms. Brady, and is able to make the character very appealing.  Interestingly, Ms. Byington had originated the part on Broadway (AFI catalog); why she was passed over in the first iteration of the film is puzzling - she had appeared the same year that version was released as Marmee in Little Women (1933). Ms. Byington had a long and varied career.  From 1924 to 1935, she appeared steadily on Broadway, appearing in 20 plays (including The Merchant of Venice, in which she played Nerissa). Her film career really started in 1933 (she had appeared in one short film in 1930); after she left Broadway for good, she worked steadily in films, television, and radio (her show, December Bride was first a radio, then a television show).  She married once, (she was engaged for a long time, but her fiance died before they wed) and she had two daughters. She was close to actress Marjorie Main, but their relationship is unclear. She loved science fiction and at one point took flying lessons (the studio made her stop). She died of cancer in 1971 at the age of 84.
Even with a second viewing, we were unimpressed with either of the men in this version. In the earlier film, Robert Montgomery's youth played in his favor. His attempts to convince Mary of Rogers duplicity seemed innocent, if somewhat artless. Robert Taylor, however, is much older and more mature in appearance. His wooing becomes almost stalker-ish, making him unappealing. If there is any chemistry at all, it is between Mr. Taylor and Ms. Garson. Their scenes on the boat are humorous and convivial. He never seems to have even a moment of camaraderie with Ms. Crawford. By the end though, we felt the women would be better off alone than with either Mr. Taylor or the self-absorbed Rogers.
The performance that really stands out in this film is that of Greer Garson, who, according to this TCM article was being groomed for stardom by MGM (following an Oscar nominated performance in Goodbye, Mr. Chips). Ms. Garson started her career on stage and television in the UK, and that was where Louis B. Mayer discovered her. Following her small, but important part in Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1939), she appeared in Pride and Prejudice (1940) with Laurence Olivier, and in Blossoms in the Dust (1941), the first of FIVE consecutive Oscar nominations as Best Actress. She would ultimately be nominated seven times, winning for Mrs. Miniver (1942).  [She currently holds the record for the longest Oscar speech - 5 minutes and 30 seconds].  Her 1943 marriage to Richard Ney, who had played her son in Mrs. Miniver and was 27 years younger than Ms. Garson created a bit of a scandal; the marriage lasted until 1947.  Some say the problems in the tumultuous marriage resulted from the age difference. However, the couple were separated almost immediately after their marriage when Ney was called up to serve in the military. When he returned, he found work hard to come by, while his wife was still quite popular, resulting in dissension (Michael Troyan, A Rose for Mrs. Miniver: The Life of Greer Garson, 1999). Following that divorce, Ms. Garson married Buddy Fogelson. She worked sporadically after that, eventually retiring with her husband to his Texas ranch. They were together until his death in 1987. Ms. Garson died in 1996 at the age of 91.

The New York Times wondered in their review why this "Hoover-vintage comedy" was "resurrected". We wondered the same thing. It's not really a showpiece for any of its actors - quite frankly, it does most of them a disservice. It's worth a look to see Greer Garson and Spring Byington, though. We'll leave you with this trailer, which introducess several of our key characters:

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Barbara Marries Robert's Brother

In His Brother's Wife (1936), Dr. Chris Claybourne (Robert Taylor) is about to go on a several year research project to the South American jungle, in search of the cause spotted fever.  But Chris, a very undedicated young man, intends to spend his last two weeks in New York drinking and gambling.  While at the gambling hall of the rather shady "Fish-Eye" (Joseph Calleia), Chris loses a $5,000 (which he doesn't have), and meets model Rita Wilson (Barbara Stanwyck).  The meeting is fortuitous - a smitten Chris spends the two weeks with Rita; by the end of it, he has resolved to resign from the research project and marry Rita.  But there is still the $5,000 debt to deal with.  When Chris asks his brother, Dr. Thomas Clabourne, Jr. (John Eldredge) for help, Tom's agrees, but at a price - drop Rita, who Tom sees as a gold-digger, and go on the expedition, or deal with the debt himself.  Chris agrees to the terms, leaving a heartbroken and angry Rita vowing revenge on the Claybourne family.

In some ways, the biggest problem with this film is the script's portrayal of  Chris Claybourne, whose switch from debauched playboy to dedicated researcher seems almost too abrupt.  Sure, the deterioration of his relationship with Rita plays a part in the character's change, as does seeing colleagues die in South America.  But, he also goes from heartsick juvenile to bitter old man with the flip of a switch.  As a result, it's really hard to get a handle on Chris.  The prior year, Taylor had become very much a matinee idol in Magnificent Obsession and one wonders if the writers were trying to capitalize on the popularity of that film, by making Chris similar to Robert Merrick.  In this New York Times review, the popularity of Mr. Taylor (following his success in Magnificent Obsession) figures heavily in the commentary. 

At one point, (according to the AFI Catalog), Jean Harlow and Clark Gable were being considered for the lead roles in this film; later, it was reported that the cast included Harlow and Franchot Tone.  However, it was already public knowledge that Stanwyck and Taylor were dating (see this TCM article for more about the film); assumedly, that contributed greatly to casting Stanwyck rather than Harlow. Harlow in the role of Rita would have been very different, as Stanwyck gives Rita an elegance and strength that makes her attractive and likeable.  Given Rita's actions later in the film, it could be hard to retain sympathy for her, but Stanwyck has the skill to make Rita much more sinned against than sinning.
Another handicap is John Eldredge as Thomas Claybourne, Jr.  Simply put, he's a blackmailer, a liar, and a weakling.  Surely, one doesn't sympathize much with Chris' proclivity for gambling and then writing bad checks.  But Tom's carping about the lack of money available when he is standing in a house that could house 30 people rather than 3 seems just reprehensible.  And, on top of that, to then elope with the woman his brother wanted to marry - a woman he all but called a whore, is just despicable.  One wonders why Chris doesn't deck him when he returns from South America.  

Joh Eldredge never seemed to get beyond second banana status, and given his performance here, it's understandable.  The scenes in which he tells his brother about his passion for Rita are over-the-top and rather insincereHe had a respectable film career; then moved into television in his later years.  In fact, he worked up until his death of a heart attack in 1961.   Growing up, I remember him clearly as a frequent Superman villain in The Adventures of Superman.
 
The costuming is good - Stanwyck has some nice outfits, but by and large, the actors look like they've been dipped in Clorox in the jungle scenes - everyone in white, and not a stain to be seen. And we, as mentioned, had some problems with the set used as the Claybourne home.  It makes it awfully hard to believe there are any financial constraints within the family.

Jean Hersholt as Professor Pop Fahrenheim, Chris' supervisor and mentor on the expedition, is very good, as usual.  He is able to provide an amount of gravitas to that role, without making him pious.  However, Samuel S. Hinds as Dr. Thomas Claybourne, Sr. is totally wasted. He has, perhaps two scenes, and does little except worry about Tom, Jr. 
Some amount of the film concentrates on the aspect of heroic medicine, which is very reminiscent of Arrowsmith.  Of course, in 1936, vaccines were a relatively new concept, and there is a convention in films of this era that the noble physicians (Pop and Thomas, Sr.  - who is pouring all his money back into his hospital) are willing to sacrifice their very lives to save mankind.  Chris' father wants Chris to become that kind of physician. That Chris is eager to risk himself to prove the efficacy of his vaccine shows the growth of the character, and that he has indeed become ennobled by his work in the tropics.  In this day and age of controlled clinical trials, and IRBs (institutional review boards that verify that studies are both necessary and will minimize harm), this method of medical research seems outlandish.  But take a look at this brief article on Joseph Goldberger - it was the way of the world at that time.

We will leave you with this trailer from the film.  Next time, we'll be looking at an early movie about the medical profession.

Thursday, November 3, 2016

Historical Barbara

This is My Affair (1937) marked the second teaming of Barbara Stanywck and Robert Taylor.  Set during the presidential term of William McKinley, Taylor plays Navy Lt. Richard L. Perry, who is asked by President William McKinley (Frank Conroy) to go deep undercover to investigate the "Mr. Big" behind a series of bank robberies.  Only the President will know that Perry is really working for the government, as McKinley is convinced that the key player is high in his own administration.  Perry starts by investigating Batiste Duryea (Brian Donlevy) and his cohort Jock Ramsay (Victor McLaglen).  To get close to them, he begins seeing Batiste's sister, Lil (Barbara Stanwyck), but quickly finds that he has feelings for the young lady.  As a result, he begins to regret his mission.  Will he stick it out? Or will history itself cause his downfall?

The story of Richard Perry and Lil Duryea is, of course, fictional, albeit set during actual events.  It doesn't take a scholar to realize about five minutes into the film that Perry is getting himself into really hot water by taking on a secret assignment from McKinley, who is not long for this world.  Since our first glimpse of his successor, Teddy Roosevelt (Sidney Blackmer) presents us with a man who appears to be a buffoon, a lot of head shaking can occur before the story really begins.  But the real problem is that the movie can't decide what it wants to be - romance? espionage story? historical piece?  musical?  The film never really decides, and as a result we have a bit of a mishmash. 
That our co-stars were romantically involved at the time is perhaps the main reason for this mess.  According to this article from the AFI Catalog, Darryl Zanuck (who wrote the short story on which the screenplay is most likely based under the pseudonym of Melville Crossman), wanted to capitalize on the highly publicized relationship.  So, what might have been a decent espionage story became muddled with the romance between Richard and Lil.  Plus, when you have a star of the caliber of Barbara Stanwyck, you want her to shine.  As a result actors like Brian Donlevy and Victor McLaghlen get shortchanged, as their (more important) storyline, gets abridged to almost nothing.  A waste of two fine talents, and not a great use of the Ms. Stanwyck, either.

It's really Robert Taylor's movie, though he doesn't have much of a script to work with.  As a result, his performance is somewhat lackluster, and there is suprisingly not much chemistry between him and Ms. Stanwyck.  There's a lot more chemistry in both The Night Walker and His Brother's Wife, so it is certainly not THEM.  

Taylor had met Stanwyck after her divorce from Frank Fay, in 1935, about a year before they filmed His Brother's Wife (1936) (see A Life of Barbara Stanwyck: Steel-True 1907-1940)   She was a bit older, and certainly had more experience in the film industry, and what began as a mentorship morphed into marriage in 1939 (a marriage that was somewhat forced on her.  That they were living together became public when Photoplay magazine outed them - along with Gable and Lombard, and Chaplin and Goddard - resulting in MGM encouraging to formalize the union).  They were together until 1952.  Separated by the war (Taylor served United States Naval Air Corps as a flight instructor) and then by work, the marriage suffered.  When Stanwyck discovered that Taylor was involved with a starlet, she asked for a divorce.  Later, Taylor married actress Ursula Thiess (they had two children).  He died of lung cancer in 1969.
It's hard to discuss Taylor without talking about his involvement in the Hollywood Blacklist.  Suffice it to say, when subpoenaed by HUAC, he appeared and testified.  He considered the proceedings to be a circus, but when asked for names, he supplied two.  (You can read a transcript of his testimony or see an excerpt.)  Did he have a choice? Perhaps.  But, to quote Dalton Trumbo, who was no stranger to the evils of the blacklist:  "The blacklist was a time of evil...no one on either side who survived it came through untouched by evil...[Looking] back on this time...it will do no good to search for villains or heroes or saints or devils because there were none; there were only victims."


The cast is chock full of wonderful actors, most of who are wasted.  Brian Donlevy makes the most of the little screentime he has, but Victor McLagen is seems completely out of place - he hams up most of his scenes, making a character who should be menacing rather stupid.  Why an actor of his caliber was placed in this really inferior part is a mystery.  Sidney Blackmer is almost unrecognizable as Roosevelt, but he does get an opportunity to grow the character.  He makes Roosevelt very broad (but Roosevelt was a man who lived life large), but he also shows him to be no fool, and very tenacious.  By the end of the film, he is almost likeable (as much as any other character in the piece!)
According to this TCM article, Stanwyck, who started her career on the Broadway stage (she appeared in the Broadway musical Tattle Tales in 1933, with her then husband Frank Fay), was quite nervous about singing in the film - and asked that Taylor not be on the set while she sang.  Stanwyck has a deep, not unpleasant voice, but these "musical numbers" are really more of a distraction, and add little to the story.

All in all, not one of Ms. Stanwyck's best efforts.  We will circle back to her first film with Robert Taylor next time.