Joan's "Lost" Film

Wealthy Letty Lynton (1932) (Joan Crawford) left the United States to live in South America. She's been in an assignation with the domineering  Emile Renaul (Nils Asther), who is insistent that she will never leave him. Letty escapes to a U.S. bound ship, where she meets Jerry Darrow (Robert Montgomery); romance follows, but the threat of Emile is a clear and present danger to Letty's happiness. 

The legend of Letty Lynton has existed since it was taken out of circulation in 1936, following a battle about the copyright of the story.  It was a film I’d always wanted to see (what WAS the Letty Lynton  dress??), and while I normally avoid pirated films, the opportunity to see it on stream from another country was just too tempting to resist.  The copy was pretty awful, which I expected, but the full film was there.  And so we got to watch this Joan Crawford movie we never expected to view.

 

This is Ms. Crawford's film - she is the focus of the story and is in nearly every scene. As good as her supporting cast is, that is what they are - support for the story of Letty's decision to try and change her life.  She's awfully good - we were especially impressed with a scene mid-film in which Letty tries to reconnect with the Mother (May Robson) who emotionally withdrew from Letty when Letty was a child.  Letty's meanderings have been an attempt to avoid her mother's coldness and find some semblance of love. With the possibility of a new life with Jerry, Letty makes one more appeal to her mother. Ms. Crawford never loses her cool but her face reflects the pain she feels as her mother yet again withdraws from her.

We always enjoy Robert Montgomery, and he is very good in what is essentially a minor role. Sure, he’s the romantic lead, but as we mentioned, this is Letty’s story, not his. Mr. Montgomery is able to bring Jerry to a higher level - he gives him an inner strength that is crucial to the film’s ending. Interestingly, he was not the first actor considered - Robert Young was also considered for the part. 

There is nothing in the least attractive about Nils Asther’s Emile. He’s a bully, abusive, and a stalker. If we were supposed to have any sympathy for his passion for Letty, it’s pretty much gone when he shows up at the dock in New York.  Nils Asther started his Hollywood career during the silent era, when his strong Swedish accent didn’t matter. While his career continued into the talkies, it was limited to playing foreigners, like the General in The Bitter Tea of General Yen (1933). He would continue in films and television until 1961. Briefly married to Vivian Duncan, the couple had one daughter. Mr. Asther died in Sweden in 1981 at the age of 84.

The film makes a nice counterpoint between the relationships of Letty and her mother to Jerry's loving and affectionate parents (played by Emma Dunn and Walter Walker). We do have a brief scene with them and Letty - Ms. Crawford again nicely shows the longing Letty feels for such a family dynamic without being over-the-top.

Letty's true mother is played by her maid and confidant, Miranda (Louise Closser Hale). She sweet, if at times a bit muddled, but her affection for Letty is very clear from the start of the film, and her desire to get her charge to a better place is also obvious.  Ms. Hale is a delightful actress, with great range; this film shows another aspect of her talent.

Finally, Lewis Stone  (John J. Haney) drops in as a policy investigator towards the end of the film. He's not very bright, and is rather superfluous to the story.  The scene itself IS necessary to mend a bunch of fences, but Haney is a head-shaker of a police officer.

The New York Times review by Mordaunt Hall was negative; however, the picture was popular - Letty's white dress becoming a fashion sensation.  When the studio attempted re-release, a lawsuit followed (for more information, the AFI catalog details the particulars), and the film was eventually relegated to the archives.  Letty's story may have been influenced by the murderer Madeleine Smith. Her story made the screen in 1950 in the David Lean film Madeleine with Ann Todd as the notorious Ms. Smith

We'll leave you with this scene of Letty and Jerry falling in love. Here's hoping the film is eventually able to be re-released with a decent print.

W

Kay Loves a Thief

The Amateur Cracksman has struck again, and the police are baffled. Despite his success as a thief, A. J. Raffles  (Ronald Colman) is giving up his life of crime for Gwen (Kay Francis), the woman he loves. But that is before he discovers his best friend, Bunny (Bramwell Fletcher) is deeply in debt. To save his friend, Raffles (1930) decides to pull one more job - steal the diamond necklace belonging to Lady Melrose (Alison Skipworth).

This was a fun, enjoyable movie. It's very much like the 1939 remake, if a bit more static in places (this is 1930, after all. Sound is still an infant).  Regardless, the film's creative team tries to insert some movement and action to the proceedings, which does help to make the film seem less talky.

Ronald Colman is the perfect choice for A. J. Raffles. He's charming, debonair, well spoken, and someone you can imagine scaling walls - all the things that are needed to make the audience root for him. His relationship with Bunny is just the icing on the cake - Raffles is a loyal friend.  Bunny may not deserve him - he's in debt because of gambling - but this loyalty makes Raffles even more attractive. There was no question as to who would play Raffles in this version. Mr. Colman had proved so successful with Bulldog Drummond the previous year that Sam Goldwyn rushed this film into production (TCM article).

We wanted more Kay Francis.  Gwen disappears for much of the film (as Raffles cases the premises to steal Lady Melrose's jewels), then returns towards the end.  One thing that her absence accomplishes is to make sure that it takes some time before she realizes that her fiance is actually a robber. Had she been around, we might be shaking our head at how stupid she is for not realizing his hobby (shades of Lois Lane not recognizing Superman when he is wearing glasses!) Once we see her later in the film, Gwen is pretty quick to catch onto Raffles' objective, so it was sadly expedient to not have her around for a bit.

The clever, witty script caused the original director, Harry d'Abbadie D'Arrast, to push for a comedic style. It was deemed to be too fast by producer Goldwyn for Ronald Colman - Mr. Goldwyn saw Mr. Colman as less a comic than a wit, and changed directors; though neither Mr. D'Arrast nor his successor, George Fitzmaurice was listed in the credits (AFI Catalog). By casting actors like Ms. Francis and David Torrence (Inspector McKenzie), both of whom prove to have excellent repartee with Ms. Colman, the film is smart rather than silly.

With excellent reviews, like this New York Times review which said that Mr. Colman "does well  by the part" and Ms. Francis "is also excellent," the film turned a tidy profit (The Women of Warner Brothers: The Lives and Careers of 15 Leading Ladies by Daniel Bubbeo). It isn't surprising that it would be remade in nine years with David Niven in the lead. Both films are enjoyable and well worth a viewing.

Barbara is Shopworn

Her father's sudden death forces Kitty Lane (Barbara Stanwyck) to take a job in a hamburger joint in the city.  One of her customers is David Livingston (Regis Toomey), a medical student. He and Kitty gradually fall in love, but David's snooty mother, Helen Livingston (Clara Blandick) has other plans for her son than a Shopworn (1932) girl.

This post is part of The Queen of Sass: The Barbara Stanwyck Blogathon hosted by Pale Writer. 

Shopworn is a mixed bag. On the one hand, you have a dynamic performance by Barbara Stanwyck, but other elements of the film fall into the banal.  Perhaps the key culprit is the final film itself. There are huge gaps (probably the result of censorship) (TCM article), that make the movie feel helter skelter. In the latter section of the film, we are told that six years have elapsed - it takes a while to find this out - and in the meantime, we are wondering why the sweet Kitty suddenly seems to be such a notorious woman. With almost no transitions between the major sections of the film, one finds oneself bemused by the changes. Regardless, Ms. Stanwyck makes the change easily to accept, and the audience accepts the change because of her skill. Lila Lee was initially considered for Kitty (AFI Catalog); Ms. Stanwyck evidently was sorry the part was not given to Ms. Lee. It probably didn't help that her marriage to comedian Frank Fay was starting to disintegrate. (A Life of Barbara Stanwyck: Steel-True, 1907-1940 by Victoria Wilson).

The casting of Regis Toomey as Kitty's love interest is another problem. Mr. Toomey is fine as a character actor; he also was a good fit for television. He is a more intimate actor, which makes him ideal for the small screen, but opposite a dynamo like Barbara Stanwyck, he seems insignificant and unworthy of her attention. You spend most of the movie wondering what Kitty could possibly see in this momma's boy. Only when he finally stands up to Judge Forbes (Oscar Apfel) do we finally have any regard for David, but it is perhaps too little too late.

Our villains in the piece are David's nightmare of a mother, and her strongman, Judge Forbes. Given this is a pre-code film, no punishment is meted out. In the long run, we longed for the Judge to get his just deserts. There's no question Helen is a horror, but Forbes is a man of the law, and he misuses his position horribly. He's a despicable man, and the only comeuppance his gets is pitifully inadequate. A lurid trial, and the image of him being disbarred would have been a nice conclusion (but that is probably another movie).

ZaSu Pitts is adorable as Kitty's aunt and best friend, Dot. It's a small, but memorable role, and we looked forward to seeing her reappear on the screen. Her polar opposite is Clara Blandick, who creates the ultimate monster mother in Helen Livingston. It's the women who dominate in this film; but the only woman we really care about is Ms. Stanwyck's Kitty.

While the reviews for the film were not great - Variety called it "the clumsiest kind of literary hoke..." (A Life of Barbara Stanwyck, 1907-1940: Steel-True by Victoria Wilson) and Mordaunt Hall of the New York Times said "It is beyond the powers of such capable players as Barbara Stanwyck, Regis Toomey, Clara Blandick and Zassu Pitts (sic) to make their actions in this film convincing or even mildly interesting" - in the long run, the film did well at the box office (Starring Miss Barbara Stanwyck by Ella Smith). If you are a Stanwyck completest, you should watch it for her performance. 

We'll leave you with a scene in which Kitty shows her strength of character:



Be sure to visit the other posts that celebrate the Magnificent Missy at Pale Writer's The Queen of Sass: The Barbara Stanwyck Blogathon
 

Police Inspector Ralph

Gloria Gale (Shirley Grey), a spoiled socialite, is bored. When she meets Dan Terrence (Charles Sabin), a crook who works for gang leader  Mike Russo (J. Carrol Naish), she agrees to be his wheel-person during a jewel theft. Once the crime is committed and the police, led by Inspector Steve Trent (Ralph Bellamy) hone in on her, Gloria, the Girl in Danger (1934), has second thoughts about the adventurous life.

The fourth (in a series of four) movies (released between 1933 and 1934) that featured Ralph Bellamy as Inspector Trent, the movie really should be named "The Girl is an Airhead." The film's major problem is that from the start, one cannot believe that Gloria could be stupid enough to get involved in a life of crime merely because she is jaded.  We're not talking about a bit of shoplifting, or hanging out in a casino. We're talking breaking and entering and grand theft.  Dan Terrence is also armed, so had someone entered the room he was pilfering, he'd have had no qualms about shooting the unsuspecting intruder. It doesn't seem like any amount of ennue would entice a woman with a brain in her head to set herself up for 5 to 10 years in prison.

If the plot is a little lacking, the movie does have some bright spots. Ralph Bellamy is always a pleasure to watch, and it's nice for a change to see him in the lead, and not playing a put-upon dolt.  He's clearly comfortable as Trent, and his laconic attitude works well for this precise character.

Mr. Bellamy was born in Chicago; by 1919, he'd left home (he was 15) to work in theatrical road shows. Ultimately, he made his way to New York, started his own theatre company, and began getting work on Broadway, where he worked off and on from 1929 to 1959. He originated roles such as Grant Matthews in State of the Union (which would star Spencer Tracy in the film version), Michael Frame in Tomorrow the World (Fredric March in the film), Detective McLeod in Detective Story (Kirk Douglas n the movie), and what is perhaps his finest performance FDR in Sunrise at Campobello, a role he finally got to play himself when the film was made. He received a Tony Award for that performance. He spent a lot of his long career playing put-up second bananas, like the character of Daniel Leeson in The Awful Truth (1937), which got him his only Oscar nomination. Married and divorced three times, his 1945 (4th) marriage to Alice Murphy lasted until the end of his life in 1991 at the age of 97. He worked until nearly the end - his last role was Richard Gere's industrial nemesis in Pretty Woman (1990)

Another plus to the film is seeing early work by Ward Bond (Wynkoski), J. Carroll Naish, and Vincent Sherman (Willie Tolini) - here in an acting role! This was, in fact, Mr. Sherman's last role in front of the screen. He worked as a screenwriter, as a dialogue director, and finally as a director in films such as Old Acquaintance (1943), Mr. Skeffington (1944), and Harriet Craig (1950).

Originally titled, By Persons Unknown (AFI catalog), this is a so-so film with some engaging actors and a slapped-together script. It's blessedly short (57 minutes), with a pre-code ending that will have you shaking your head. Personally, I think Gloria Gale needs a time-out.

Aline Pumps Gas

 

Sisters Myra (Ann Dvorak) and Olga (Aline MacMahon) run a gas station/diner/motel deep in the desert of the American Southwest. Isolated from the rest of the world (except for the customers who are always heading somewhere else), Olga is protective of her younger sister.  She forbids her from socializing with men, especially Steve Laird (Theodore Newton), much to Myrna's fury. Olga's life is disrupted by the arrival of George (Preston Foster), a man who was once Olga's lover. Our film this week is Heat Lightning (1934).

Aline MacMahon is always remarkable, and this film is no exception. When we meet Olga, her face is closed. She interacts with strangers on a business level only. She is not unfriendly, but distant and cautious. With the arrival of George (who Olga - and only Olga - calls Jerry), Ms. MacMahon changes her whole demeanor. The suspicion begins to slowly melt into affection, and finally into the hope for a resumption of their earlier relationship. Some of this is accomplished with costuming, as Olga literally lets down her lush hair (George had commented on the beauty of her thick, long hair), but most accomplished with Ms. MacMahon's eyes and posture. This was the first picture in which she received star billing, and she makes the most of it.

Ann Dvorak's part is relatively small, but the last scenes in which she appears are very strong and truly heartbreaking. Myra's early rebellion and the results that revolt make it appear that the sisters will end up very much alike. The emptiness in Ms. Dvorak's face tell us the future of Myra far better than words could.

We're not used to seeing Lyle Talbot (Jeff) play a weakling, but he does here. By the end, he develops a small amount of backbone, but primarily he is under the thumb of the domineering - and nasty - George. We previously discussed his impressive film career when we viewed A Lost Lady, but this was a new side to a decidedly versatile, and underrated, actor.

Frank McHugh (Frank) is also playing a somewhat different part from his usual sidekick roles. He's a chauffeur to Mrs. Feathers Tifton (Glenda Farrell) and Mrs. Tinkle Ashton-Ashley (Ruth Donnelly), two new divorcees, on their way home (with LOTS of expensive jewelry) from Reno. Surprisingly, Mr. McHugh is also the current object of both their affections! Mr. McHugh is amusing and effective with relatively little screen time. But seeing him as an object of lust does take some getting used to.

As is often the case, Glenda Farrell doesn't get enough to do, though her interplay with Ruth Donnelly is especially fun. They are a good combination; in the end, Ms. Donnelly gets the better lines and the stronger part. 

The script is intriguing, in that the backstory is supplied in tiny spoonfuls - you get just enough to understand Olga, and no more. It's script writing by insinuation, and is effective. You keep watching the movie to find out more, as you are given just a tad more information about Olga's life in the city. While several of the characters seem extraneous  - the girls who arrive with "Popsy" (Harry C. Bradley), for example - it's evident by the end of the story that each of these visitors is telling us more about Olga and her decision to live in the desert. 

As you can see, it's an amazing group of character actors - Jane Darwell also appears in the opening scene as Gladys, wife to henpecked husband Herbert (Edgar Kennedy), a couple motoring through the desert with a really unreliable jalopy. It's another humorous interlude, but fascinating as well - Olga is a skilled mechanic, better than most men - even in the precode era, it's not usual to see a woman who is skilled at a trade. 

The story was based on the play, Heat Lightning which was on Broadway for a month in 1933. and starred Jean Dixon as Olga. In 1941, there was remake (of course, drastically altered. The remake was, after all, well within the code) as Highway West (1941) (AFI catalog).  Reviewer Mordaunt Hall of the New York Times was not enthusiastic about the film in his review, but did like Ms. MacMahon, saying "she gives a believable performance the rôle is not well suited to her". We disagree; there is not a part written which Ms. MacMahon cannot in some way make suit herself.

Released in March of 1934 (just 4 months before the Code began to be strongly enforced), the picture has not been widely circulated since then, as it was on the Legion of Decency's Banned List (TCM article). We think that it's a shame it - and its star - are not better known, and really recommend a viewing. Here's a trailer to get you started:

Ann Has a Secret

John Shadwell (John Boles) and Vergie Winters (Ann Harding) were planning to marry, but Vergie's father (Edward Van Sloan) told John that Vergie is instead marrying Hugo McQueen (Creighton Chaney). In pain, John marries Laura Shadwell (Helen Vinson) on the rebound. But Jim Winters had been paid $10,000 to tell the lie, and trick John into the marriage with Laura. Unable to divorce his wife, John visits Vergie on a regular basis, while his political star begins to rise. Our film this week is The Life of Vergie Winters (1934).

Based on Louis Bromfield's short story (AFI catalog), this film is similar to the stories that are told in Forbidden (1932) and Back Street (1932) - a couple whose true love is thwarted by circumstance, but stay together despite the rules of society. And while this is not an original plot, Ann Harding makes Vergie so likable that you don't really care that you know the story. You keep watching just to see her. 

There are class issues regarding Vergie's potential marriage to John which assist the Shadwells' lies; and Laura is eager to marry a man with political possibilities. Vergie, however, is seemingly well regarded (initially) by the community. A milliner with a popular store, her wealthy clientele are friendly with her (albeit only during business hours). When her secret life becomes more public, she loses her society shoppers, but inherits a new customer base, represented by Pearl Turner (Cecil Cunningham), a local madam. Rich or poor, Vergie displays an easy relationship with her customers.

The film also has an interesting "innovation" not a part of the previously mentioned movies. The Life of Vergie Winters uses narratage (New York Times review); the inner monologues of the townpeople at the opening of the film (the film actually begins with John's death and Vergie's imprisonment) serve as a kind of Greek chorus, preparing the audience for the story that is about to unfold. The technique was very reminiscent of the inner monologue in Strange Interlude (1932) and is interesting, if a bit stylized.

Frank Albertson (Ranny Truesdale) is the kind of man every woman wants to marry. His love for Joan Shadwell (Betty Furness) is deep; when the couple discover Joan is adopted, Joan suggests they break the engagement, since her background is so nebulous. Ranny complies - he demands his ring back; then asks for her hand and places the ring back on her finger. No further discussion of the subject is required (much to the disgust of Laura Shadwell). Ranny is a true gentleman, and Mr. Albertson gives him a warmth that makes him very engaging.

Helen Vinson, on the other hand, plays Laura as a opportunistic witch. She has no regard for John; she wants the prestige that his political possibilities will provide and nothing more. It's pretty apparent that the marriage is eventually one of convenience; it's also clear that she has no use for the child that she has taken into her home (the end of the film - without giving much away - substantiates that). Ms. Vinson's career was primarily playing the "other woman." She started on Broadway, appearing in four plays between 1927 and 1932, then went to Hollywood, where she would make 40 films, including Jewel Robbery (1932), I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang (1932), and In Name Only (1939). Her final film was The Thin Man Goes Home (1945). Married for the third time to Donald Hardenbrook the following year, she left film at her husband's request. They were married until his death in 1976; Ms. Vinson died in 1999 at the age of 92.

One of the most appealing people in the film is that of Joan. We first see her as a girl of about 11 (played by Bonita Granville). She's an engaging child, kind to Vergie (who she has been told to avoid). The interaction between Ms. Harding and Ms. Granville is touching. The character does not alter as she ages - Betty Furness is lovely as a woman who has somehow stayed a good and loving person, despite being raised by a viper. 

There are a few other actors who should be mentioned - Lon Chaney, Jr. (still listed as Creighton Chaney - his true given name) has a few scenes as Hugo McQueen, the man Vergie's father says she is marrying. Donald Crisp is the villain of the piece as Mike Davey, a local pub owner who despises John. Sara Haden is Winnie Belle, the woman who has set her cap on Vergie's despicable father. Ben Alexander, who would later gain fame as the first of Jack Webb's partners in Dragnet, appears as Laura's brother Barry. And Walter Brennan has a brief scene as a rumor-spreading drunk.

The New York Times review by Mordaunt Hall was indifferent; the film was "important" enough that it opened at Radio City Music Hall. It probably will come as no surprise that the film landed on the Catholic Church's Condemned List, which also helped it to do well at the box office (TCM article).  But, with a release date of June 14, 1934, it's at the end of the pre-code era - the new regulations took effect on July 1st, and would effectively have made this film impossible to release in its current state. So, while it is not the most original of plots, it is handled well, and it's always a pleasure to see Ann Harding at her peak.  We enjoyed it, and think you will as well.

Bette Designs

Con man Sherwood Nash (William Powell) decides to forgo financial scams in favor of fashion scams when he meets would-be designer Lynn Mason (Bette Davis). Using Lynn's talent for sketching and eye for successful dresses, Nash "borrows" dresses en route from Paris to New York design houses, and sells cheap copies ("designed" by Lynn) to low-end competitors. He then convinces the New York designers to send him to Paris to do the same for them - get the  Fashions of 1934 (1934) to them at a lower price.

Part of the AFI Silver Theatre's Library of Congress Film Preservation Showcase. Fashions of 1934 was projected with a newly restored 35mm print of this film. Like it's sister film, In Caliente, Fashions of 1934 is an excuse for elaborate musical numbers as well as stunning dresses exhibited in various fashion shows. If you've seen The Women, you are familiar with this kind of scene - lovely, period dresses, but the kind no member of the film audience would probably ever be able to afford. However, add a little Busby Berkeley magic, and you've got production numbers that you will long remember.

The biggest number involves human harps - yes, you read that right. The image below will give you just an idea of the piece. The trailer will show you another - lovely ladies with feather fans that are used to create gorgeous shapes. There's no way these routines would ever be on a stage at a fashion show, but I doubt anyone really cared.

William Powell is delightfully suave as the con man extraordinaire "Sherry" Nash. The part is reminiscent of the role he played in Jewel Robbery (1932). Even though he's unabashedly dishonest, the audience roots for him - he's just charming. He also has quite a good rapport with his two female co-stars, Bette Davis and Verree Teasdale (Grand Duchess Alix/Mabel McGuire), two very different actresses with extremely different acting styles.  With Mr. Powell there, you don't notice a change of tone.

Not surprisingly, Bette Davis was not thrilled to be in this picture. She wanted meatier parts, and this certainly was not what she was looking for. She stated that she was "all done up like a third-rate imitation of the MGM glamour queens. That isn't me. I'll never be a clothes horse or romantic symbol." (TCM article). Regardless of her discomfort with the part, she acquits herself well (though she is much better looking as a brunette). As for her desire for better parts, she would get her wish later that year, when she FINALLY was given permission to play Mildred in Of Human Bondage (1934) (The Lonely Life: An Autobiography by Bette Davis).

Verree Teasdale is amusing as Hoboken native and faux countess Alix. Ms. Teasdale started on Broadway, ultimately performing in 13 plays between 1924 and 1932; she appeared in her first film in 1929, and worked fairly steadily until 1941; thereafter, she did some radio work, often with her husband, Adolphe Menjou. Their marriage lasted from 1935 until his death in 1963 (they had one child). Ms. Teasdale died in 1987 at the age of 83.

In a part reminiscent of his character in One-Way Passage (1932),Frank McHugh plays Snap, a photographer - and con man/thief - who is Sherry's right-hand man.  Mr. McHugh makes the most of what he's got, though the part is mostly comedic.  It must be mentioned that, as intriguing as his little cane camera is, it's odd that he has to constantly hold it up to his eye to get pictures - resulting in the "secret camera" being not very secret.  There is an emphasis on this particular gimmick, and our reaction was that you'd have to be particularly stupid to not figure out what he is doing.

Several other character parts are worth mentioning - Hugh Herbert (Joe Ward) is actually not annoying in this film.  Reginald Owen (Oscar Baroque) and Henry O'Neill (Duryea) as part of the fashion industries in Paris and New York (respectively) are frankly as dishonest as Sherry and his crew.  Arthur Treacher makes a brief appearance as - what else - a butler.

Originally titled King of Fashion (AFI Catalog), this is a pleasant film with some lovely Berkeley numbers. Certainly, it is reminiscent of other films released around the same time, but with William Powell delivering the dialogue, you barely notice that it's typical.  I'll leave you with a trailer from the film (and a preview of one of the amazing dance routines.

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 Gets Paid

Mary Turner (Joan Crawford) is sentenced to three years in prison after being unjustly convicted of theft by her employer, store magnate Edward Gilder (Purcell B. Pratt). When Mary is released, she is unable to find a job, and so begins a blackmail racket with Joe Garson (Robert Armstrong). She has returned from prison with three goals in life: make money, stay out of prison, and revenge herself on Gilder. Gilder’s son Bob (Kent Douglass) presents an easy target for the last goal. This week, we’ll discuss Paid (1930).

This is a film that begins well. It starts at a good pace; the story is clearly laid out, and the scenes flow easily from one to the other. And then we get to the end, which is slow to the point of inertia. Scene after scene tell the same story, and there is no good reason why we need to see every character questioned by the police over and over. The film manages to cover Mary's prison time concisely. We wished that the conclusion had done the same thing.

Mary Turner uses the knowledge she gained about the law to fulfill her first two goals - to make money and stay out of jail. The schemes that Joe and Agnes Lynch (Marie Prevost) devise work just this side of the law - have Agnes become the paramour of an older, rich man; get plenty of evidence in the form of love letters; inform said man that Agnes is under-age and expects marriage. The money flows in, and they are technically not blackmailing the man.  Joan Crawford is excellent as a woman who goes from a poorly paid clerk, to an inmate who uses her prison time to read up on the law; to a sophisticated criminal. Her training in silent films serves her well; with just a hint in her eyes, she is able to convey all the information the audience needs. 

Ms. Crawford badly wanted this part - she'd been making a career playing flappers, and she wanted a role with meat on it. But producer Irving Thalberg intended the part for his wife, Norma Shearer. Luckily for Ms. Crawford, Ms. Shearer became pregnant just before filming began, and Ms. Crawford actively pursued the role again, convincing Mr. Thalberg to give her a chance. She even insisted on doing the prison scenes without makeup to make them more convincing.  It paid off - the success of the movie assured her of continued dramatic parts (TCM article).

We've had mixed reactions to Kent Douglass (aka Douglass Montgomery) in two other films of his that we've viewed.  This was his first film, and he is so much more comfortable here than he was in Waterloo Bridge (1931). Certainly, Bob is far less naive than Roy Cronin, and perhaps that is the issue. Bob is a more realistic character, and Mr. Douglass plays him that way. Sure, Bob is a tad innocent, but he deals with the issues forced on him truthfully and with determination.

Joe, however, is really more caricatured. He's a loose cannon and prone to violence, making him his own worst enemy. Quite frankly, he doesn't really have the nerve to be a swindler. Without Mary there to calm him, he would blow the scheme and end up in prison. Robert Armstrong does a decent job with the character but he's not given a lot to work with. Mr. Armstrong is best remembered as Carl Denham in King Kong (1933). He had served in the army in World War I, and returned to take up acting, first in London and then in silents. He transitioned to sound films easily, though he primarily worked in character parts, westerns, and  B films. By the 1950s, he moved to television, appearing in shows such as Cheyenne, Have Gun - Will Travel, and Wagon Train. Married four times, his last marriage, to Claire Louise Frisbie lasted from 1940 until his death (from cancer) in 1973. His lifelong friend, Merian C. Cooper (the producer of King Kong) died 16 hours after Mr. Armstrong.

The McGuffin concerning the Mona Lisa in the latter half of the film is actually based on truth (AFI catalog). The  painting was stolen from the Louvre in 1911 and not found until 1913. That the painting now back in the museum is not the original (and that the real Mona Lisa is in some wealthy collector's private room) has been posited on more than one occasion.  

This was the fourth version of Within the Law, the play on which the film is based.  It started as a stage play on Broadway in 1912. In 1916, it was a short, starring Muriel Starr and a full length version starring Alice Joyce in 1917. This was followed by  a 1923 version (with Norma Talmadge); in 1928, the play was revived on Broadway, with Claudette Colbert as Agnes.  Following our version, the story was filmed again in 1939, with Ruth Hussey as Mary. The story was also done twice in India (as Intaquam (1969) and Pagabattina Paduchu (1971).

If you are willing to put up with the boring bits of the second act to see Joan Crawford, we recommend this - you can always fast forward through some of the police interrogation.  In the meantime, we'll leave you with this scene from the film's opening:

Kay Cruises

After escaping from San Francisco following a murder conviction, Dan Hardesty (William Powell) is arrested in Hong Kong by Steve Burke (Warren Hymer), a police officer tasked with returning Dan to the U.S. for execution. Dan is determined to escape from the ship during the voyage home, but a complication arises in the form of Joan Ames (Kay Francis), a pleasure cruiser to whom he is immediately attracted. But there is a further complication - Joan is dying, and this cruise is, for her, a One Way Passage (1932)

This is perhaps one of Kay Francis' best dramatic roles. She sympathetic as a woman who has little time to live, and has decided to live a shorter, more interesting life, rather than just sit in bed and wait for the inevitable. Ms. Francis, without any backstory, provides that history to the audience simply with her demeanor. We know that Joan has heretofore lived the life an an invalid; informed that the end is now truly near, she has one last chance to experience the world before she leaves it. It seems the film was a favorite of Ms. Francis' as well - it was one that she would regularly show to her beaus to acquaint them with her work (Kay Francis: I Can't Wait to be Forgotten: Her Life on Film and Stage by Scott O'Brien).  

Equally excellent is William Powell as a decent man about to be executed for murder. Dan Hardesty has killed a man, though according to his friend Skippy (Frank McHugh), the victim "needed killing". We get no more information than that. But, we know that Dan is ethical - while attempting to escape from Steve, he plunges them both into the water. But when he realizes that Steve cannot swim, he puts off his escape attempt to rescue his captor. With that simple gesture, we know all we need to know about the integrity of Dan.

In their sixth film together, Ms. Francis and Mr. Powell are a dynamic team. Their chemistry is palpable, and their camaraderie is apparent.  This film would prove to be their biggest box-office hit, yet it was also their last film together (TCM article). Powell would soon leave Warner Brothers for MGM, and The Thin Man series, while Ms. Francis remained at Warners. If you are interested in some of their other films together, start with Jewel Robbery (1932) - their interplay is remarkable.

One Way Passage also has the advantage of co-starring the remarkable Aline MacMahon (Barrel House Betty aka Countess Berilhaus) in the cast. As a con artist who starts off using her wiles to distract Steve from Dan, but ends up falling in love with Steve, she's terrific. Ms. MacMahon is an actress who makes everyone around her look better. As a result, Warren Hymer (who is usually, to my mind, an uninteresting actor) shines as Steve. He becomes more than just the dumb cop he usually plays.  In his book Mothers, Mammies and Old Maids: Twenty-Five Character Actresses of Golden Age Hollywood, Axel Nissen says that "because she didn't look like anyone [Aline MacMahon] could play everyone" and that is certainly the case here. You believe that she is could be a countess, even though you know almost immediately that she is not. Ms. MacMahon can play anything or anyone.  For a brief bio on this wonderful actress, visit our post on Heroes for Sale (another film in which she basically stole every scene).

The screenplay for One Way Passage won the Oscar for Best Writing - Original Story in 1933 for Walter Lord. Director Tay Garnett allegedly felt he deserved credit for some of the writing, which he did not receive (AFI catalog).  The costuming by Orry-Kelly is lovely; he was also tasked with making Kay Francis look ill, which he succeeds in doing by giving her lovely, flowing gowns that hint at frailty. Mr. Kelly would return to costume the 1940 remake, 'Til We Meet Again, this time starring George Brent and Merle Oberon as the doomed lovers.  Also returning for the remake - Frank McHugh!.

Surprisingly, the New York Times review by Mordaunt Hall actually praised the film, stating that it "offers quite a satisfactory entertainment. It has an original idea and the characters stand out..." We would be much more effusive in our praise, but regardless, this is a film for fans of both Ms. Francis and Mr. Powell.  We'll leave you with a brief scene - the meeting of  Joan and Dan: