We are at a train station in San Francisco. Amid the hustle and bustle of people traveling, we meet Lynn Palmer (Kay Francis), a Travelers' Aid employee who has dedicated her life to assisting those in need, from a little girl en route to meet her father to an old man who is down to his last penny. Thus begins Stranded (1935), a wonderful little film that pairs Francis with George Brent as Mack Hale, a gruff engineer who has arrived to supervise the construction of the Golden Gate Bridge. There's quite a bit of plot in this little film, which is a romance, a gangster film, and a social injustice film all rolled into one. Though not a pre-code film, it takes a feminist perspective on the working woman, and portrays a tough, intelligent woman who likes and values her work life, and wants to combine it with home and family. While Lynn dedicates herself to assisting those in need as they arrive in San Francisco, Mack deals with a protection racketeer, Sharkey, and with bridge construction workers who arrive on the job drunk - encouraged to do so by Sharkey (played with his usual relish by Barton MacLane). We also have a couple of sub-plots: there's society girl Velma Tuthill (Patricia Ellis), who has volunteered to work at Travelers' Aid to get away from her mother, and meet up with her boyfriend du jour. And then there is Jimmy Rivers (Frankie Darrow), a poor boy who is hired by Mack to work on the bridge (with the help of Lynn).
If there is one problem with
the film, it is the fact that there are SO many plots that some just get
left in the wayside. The character of Velma virtually disappears after
she makes a pass at Mack. She is there more as a foil to Lynn; where
Lynn is caring and dedicated to her job, Velma is uninterested and
callous; Lynn's love for Mack is counter-posed to Velma's obvious
lust. The scene in which Mack finally responds to Velma's blatant
attentions is very funny; it is worth having her there just for the
brief moment of comeuppance.
The other character who
doesn't really get enough time is Jimmy. When one sees Frankie Darrow
in a film, one expects him to be a major part of the plot. However,
Jimmy has only a few brief scenes, and while Darrow makes the most of
them (and Jimmy's presence is important to the finale), one wishes for a
little more development of the character. At one point in the action,
Mack fires Jimmy. Though not directly stated, we wondered if this was
Mack's way of protecting Jimmy from Sharkey and his minions.
What makes this film special, however, is the truly progressive attitude towards women. This article at the TCM website discusses the strength of Lynn's devotion at some length. This is not just a woman who likes to work. This is someone who feels the power of what she can do for a small strata of humanity, and who knows it is important work. She is also not afraid of or intimidated by men. Though Mack is a brusk, opinionated individual, who sometimes lives life at the top of his lungs, Lynn is not afraid to go toe-to-toe with him. There relationship is one not only of love, but finally of mutual regard. She will never let him bully her. Their relationship is one of equals.
We are all admirers of George Brent, and this film did not let us down. While he portrays Mack as rigid and dogmatic, one realizes that his job requires him to BE rigid - one inch of error and his workers or the people who use his bridges could die. The problem is that it carries over to his everyday life - he has a very jaded view of people, and he wants Lynn to adhere to that view. Francis, always a powerful actress, holds her own against him, and gives us a loving, and equally partisan individual - but one who believes in the essential good and value in the ordinary person. Several scenes in the film really popped out. First, is a scene where Mack is forced to wait for the ever-busy Lynn - and wait he does. Another is the scene (previously mentioned) where Mack lets Velma know whom he really prefers. And finally, there is a really funny bit where Lynn has to get a group of foreign brides to their new homes in San Francisco. Mack shares the ride with the women. It's a hoot.
The film also makes nice use of stock footage of the Golden Gate Bridge while under construction (as well as providing some interesting detail about the work). Clothes-horse Francis mostly has practical, business clothing here (though she gets a gown or two, courtesy of Orry-Kelly). Her wardrobe (and her lovely apartment) are not totally out of place, as the film establishes that Kay is not without economic resources. She works because she wants to, not because she has to.
Finally, we wondered if Kay Francis in these kinds of roles, was an inspiration for women? We've
see her in many roles in which her character is a strong professional woman. What impact did
those roles have on the viewer? Was there a woman who was convinced to become a social worker or physician based on a Kay Francis film? We close with Lynn and Mack on the phone.
As the film The Common Law (1931) opens, we meet Valerie West (Constance Bennett). She has just informed her lover Dick Cardemon (Lew Cody) that she is leaving. Dick is angered by her departure, and is sure she will return. Valerie, however, is determined to make it on her own and applies for a modeling job with artist John Neville (Joel McCrea), who is struggling with a painting for which he needs the right model. He finds that model in Valerie, and finds too a woman to love.
Though struggling to make it as an artist on his own income, John is the son of the wealthy John Neville, Sr. (Walter Walker). John, Jr.'s sister Claire Collis (Hedda Hopper), who we know is not thrilled by his career choice, is horrified when she discovers that her brother is in love with such a - to her view - common woman. So, Claire devises a plan to break up the relationship.
There is a real chemistry between Constance Bennett and Joel McCrea. It was evident in their other movies together (this is the fourth of their four films together that we've viewed and discussed). An article on the TCM website (in a discussion of Born to Love) talks about Bennett telling McCrea that he was to be her co-star in that film, and the fact that many in Hollywood thought there was more to their relationship than just work.
Certainly this film falls nicely into the Pre-code realm. We watch Valerie shyly drop her clothing as she poses nude for painter John, and we see a number of paintings that make it clear she doesn't wear a whole lot of clothing for the series of pictures he does of her. And then there is their relationship. Terrified he will be driven away if they marry, Valerie agrees to a relationship with John ONLY if there is no marriage involved. As in the film Illicit, it is the woman who opts for the "common law" relationship. The men in these films are much more desirous of marriage than the women.
John is clearly more conventional than Valerie - his double-standard is quite pronounced when he learns of her prior affair with Dick. But it does not bother him in the least that she is willing to pose in the nude. And, while they are in Paris, John and Valerie live together openly, when they return to New York, John feels compelled to hide their relationship.
This film is also notable for the presence of notorious gossip columnist Hedda Hopper. Her Claire is annoying from the minute we meet her. She is dull and conventional, has no understanding of her brother, and is more interested in her position and reputation than his happiness (unlike John's father, who just wants John to be happy). We don't learn a whole lot about Claire Collis - she seems to be either a widow or a divorcee, as we never meet a husband, nor is he even mentioned. In the TCM article about this film, Hopper's relationship with Bennett is discussed. Bennett did not like her one bit; even though at this point in her career, Hopper was still primarily acting. However, she had started selling stories to the press about her colleagues. It was after she realized how much more lucrative being a member of the press would be that Hopper changed her career focus (though, even after she was a columnist, she still appeared in films, most notably, as Dolly DePuyster in The Women.
The film opens with a stock shot of Paris from the 1930s which was quite fun to watch. The clothing this time was by Gwen Wakeling. We were not familiary with her, but as always, Bennett's clothing is gorgeous; but quite honestly, Constance looks good in anything.
All in all, this is an enjoyable film. We heartily recommend it.
Untamed from 1929 is a peculiar movie! It stars Joan Crawford as Alice "Bingo" Dowling and Robert Montgomery as her love interest, Andy MacAllister, and was the first talkie to be released by MGM - they were the last studio to abandon silent films - as well as Crawford's first featured sound film.
Untamed opens in South America, where Bingo Dowling is living with her ne'er-do-well father. Dad obviously doesn't supervise his child all that much. She's off with the natives, singing and dancing wildly. As you will see in the clip below, Crawford really is no singer, and her dancing is odd, at best. We discussed her dancing some time ago, when she appeared with Fred Astaire inDancing Lady. While her dancing there was energetic, here she is all angular knees and elbows. It's rather frenetic and crazy, but it sets the tone for the character of Bingo, who is at heart a wild child.
Enter Ben Murchison (Ernest Torrence) and Howard Presley (Holmes Herbert), old friends of Bingo's dad (Lloyd Ingraham). They find him gambling and drunk (his normal pass-times), but they have news. They have struck oil, and he is a partner in the endeavor. No sooner does Papa Dowling get the news than he is shot. He begs his old friends to look after his daughter, hears her voice, and dies. Being genuinely good men, "Uncle" Ben and "Uncle" Howard determine to bring Bingo to New York, where she can have a life proper to that of an oil heiress. However, Ben is not prepared for the trip to New York City, for on the boat, Bingo meets, and become immediately smitten with Andy MacAllister, a poor but noble young man (with an equally bad singing voice).
Since Bingo has spent her life in the
jungle alone with only her father as a role-model (and he's no exemplar), her reactions to a man are rather unique and inappropriate. She sees nothing wrong with being alone in a man's room; she peers into
his room without permission - Bingo has no sense of propriety. Crawford does a nice job of taking the wild child and transitioning her into a New York sophisticate. From rebelling at the prospect of shoes on her trip over, she wears the height of fashion. Bingo is shown as friendly (and seeming liked by "The Kids" who become her circle), yet Crawford is able to show the wild child is still bubbling within. For those of us used to the Crawford of the late 1930s and 1940s, this is a very different actress. Even Crawford's
posture is different than in her later career. We really are seeing the silent screen actress that she was, as she begins to grow into the dramatic actress she would become.
It's always a pleasure to see Robert Montgomery, always a
consummate actor, in anything. We've seen some of his later films with Crawford (Forsaking All Others and The Last of Mrs. Cheyney), so we knew that the pair are excellent together. This film did not disappoint. His Andy is a "good man"; even though it would be easy for him to take advantage of Bingo, he is
careful of her. So, when "Uncle" Ben forms a dislike for Andy, it's really hard to understand why. We understand that he is reluctant for Bingo to marry the first man she's ever met, but Ben is wise enough to know that Andy is not after her money. Yes, he knows that Howard is very attracted to Bingo, and hopes perhaps they will make a match. But knowing the individuals involved (and he does), it's hard to understand why he keeps trying to force Andy and Bingo apart.
The island
where the film opens is dark and dingy. This makes a nice counterpoint
as Bingo moves from that dark jungle to Park Avenue. Having seen where she began, it is not hard to understand that a bit of the jungle is
still in Bingo - she is quite temperamental and often violent. Watch
Crawford's eyes during a boxing match - they positively glow with delight
as the two men pound on one another. She
also seems to know the rules of fighting - maybe the one thing her
father taught her!
Another interesting aspect of the film is the amount of drinking that goes on. Prohibition won't end for another four year, yet there is a constant flow of alcohol. In one scene, Bingo's pet monkey breaks the only bottle of alcohol on the boat, so the two gentlemen are going
to save it by soaking it up with a sponge. While the film is a talking, it includes periodic explanatory cards, a hangover from the
silent era, as well as being heavy visual. The actors still sport the
heavy makeup (lipsticks and eye shadows) that were a staple of the
silent era. It looks very much like a silent film, with words stuck
into it; but what we are seeing
is the birth of the sound film, with silent motifs aplenty amid the
sound, and actors and crew still learning their new craft. For a more complete discussion of this topic, please stop by the TCM website for this article, which looks at this film in the context of the beginnings of the sound era. In the meantime, we will leave you with Robert Montgomery (badly) serenading Joan Crawford.
"Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again..." is perhaps one of the most famous opening lines of a novel. Last night, I too went to Manderley again, submerging myself in the wonder that is Rebecca (1940), Alfred Hitchcock's first American film, and his only film to win a Best Picture Oscar. Aired as part of TCM's Summer Under the Stars tribute to Joan Fontaine, Rebecca is a remarkable film. Starring Joan Fontaine as the nameless second Mrs. deWinter, Laurence Olivier as her husband - and the widower of the unseen, but always felt, Rebecca - Maxim, and Judith Anderson as the always creepy Mrs. Danvers, it faithfully represents the Daphne du Maurier novel, yet creates compelling cinema AND manages to placate the Production Code.
The story of Rebecca open in Monte Carlo. Our heroine is wandering the cliff-side, when she sees a man gazing over the edge of the precipice. Alarmed, she cries out. He reacts violently, telling her loudly to mind her own business. That evening, as she sits in the lobby of the hotel with her employer, the crude Edyth van Hopper (played by the always wonderful Florence Bates), who should appear but That Man - Maxim de Winter, the wealthy owner of Manderley, and a lion of the social set. Mrs. van Hopper tries to ingratiate herself to him, to no avail (though she is oblivious to Maxim's disregard of her). Maxim is much more intrigued by her paid companion, and when Mrs. van Hopper is relegated to her room by a cold, the girl and Maxim begin to keep company. She, of course, is immediately smitten by him. He treats her as a child, needing constant care and correction. But, when Mrs. Van Hopper decides to drag the girl back to America, Maxim proposes marriage. Following a happy honeymoon, the couple returns to Manderley, and the second Mrs. De Winter finds that her life is a constant stream of insecurity and fear.
Joan Fontaine is really perfect as the second Mrs. De Winter. Her mannerisms, which can sometimes be annoying, work beautifully here; they highlight her naivety and anxiety. Laurence Olivier provides the perfect balance of superciliousness and affection as Maxim. One is never quite sure of his love for his second wife, nor his feelings for Rebecca. Which is as it should be - Rebecca needs to hover over the proceedings, as her minion, the magnificent Mrs. Danvers attempts to destroy Maxim's marriage, as well as his new wife. Ms. Anderson was rightfully nominated for an Oscar for her performance (losing to Jane Darwell in The Grapes of Wrath). Watch her as she shows the second wife Rebecca's room and belongings. Her obsession with, and passion for, Rebecca oozes from her. She is frightening and fascinating. Also notable is George Sanders as Rebecca's "cousin" Jack Favell. Sanders revels in his "hail fellow well met" persona, as he tries to figure out the best way to wring some money out of Maxim, and intimidate the second Mrs. De Winter. Just seeing his character, you get a clearer picture of who Rebecca really was (and don't like her much, as a result). TCM has a wealth of information about this film. One place to start is this article which discusses the uneasy relationship between director Hitchcock and David Selznick. Where Hitchcock had intended to use the novel of Rebecca as merely a jumping-off point, Selznick required an exact retelling of the novel. Though one change did have to be made - Rebecca's death in the book is somewhat different than the circumstances described in the movie. The Production Code would not have allowed the film to end as it did with the original story line. So great was Hitchcock's antipathy for Selznick, that he used him as the model for Raymond Burr's character in Rear Window! A trailer from the film is below. If you've never seen Rebecca, do yourself a favor and put it at the top of your list.
Several months ago, we discussed a film with Warner Baxter, and decided we wanted to view another of his movies. This week, we watched Adam Had Four Sons (1941), with Baxter as Adam Stoddard, Fay Wray as his wife Molly, and Ingrid Bergman as their governess, Emilie Gallatin. The action opens with the arrival of Emilie, a young woman from Europe, who is immediately accepted - and adored - by her four young charges, Jack (who will grow up to be Richard Denning), David (Johnny Downs), Chris (Robert Shaw) and Phillip (Charles Lind). The story follows the hardships of this good family, and the woman who becomes an intrinsic part of it, through a stock market crash, the First World War, and interpersonal catastrophes. Through it all, Adam, his four sons, and Emilie remain true to each other, despite the attempts of the world to break them apart.
The film emphasizes the strength of this family. Despite everything, the brothers, their father, and even the adopted family member, Emilie, remain loyal to one another. Torn apart by the world's events, they cope and regroup. Even when one seemingly insurmountable outside force - Jack's wife, Hester, played with relish by Susan Hayward - tries to fracture the brothers, she cannot succeed. It is interesting that their home is named Stonehenge, symbolizing the durability and longevity of those that abide in the home.
The film features several strong women characters. Fay Wray's Molly is the heart of the family. Meeting her, we understand WHY the boys are so good and loyal. She is the epitome of the good wife and mother. Yet, she is not cloying or ridiculous. Ingrid Bergman's Emilie, the adopted mother, begins as a naive girl and grows into a powerful woman. She comes to the family as an employee, is forced to leave because of Adam's sudden impoverishment, but returns, not as an employee, but as substitute for the mother the boys have lost. This was only Bergman's fourth film in the United States, but you can already see her skills. Cousin Phillipa (Helen Westley) is the traditional cagey old lady. She knows more than she says, hides her wisdom behind her relish for a good, stiff drink, but works for the good of her nephews. Vance (played by June Lockhart) is another innocent. The childhood sweetheart of Phillip, she does not waver in her love, even when Phillip is severely injured. And then there is Hester.
Susan Hayward's Hester is quite the conniver. She enters the story as the wife of David, but the audience knows immediately that she is up to no good. Of course, while Emilie and Cousin Phillipa are also well aware that she is merely an opportunistic schemer, it takes the men a bit longer to catch on. Hayward truly makes the part her own; she uses sly glances, and the most subtle of movements to convey who Hester really is beneath all the artifice, she makes you want to slap her silly! Given the title, one would think this is a film about five men. But, really, it isn't. It is about a family, and the women in the family that help the men to remain true to themselves. Here, we see Emilie's return and the introduction of Hester:
As promised, this week we viewed the 1950 Harriet Craig, in which Joan Crawford plays the title role. As with the previous film, this movie centers on a manipulative, dishonest, demanding, and snobbish woman obsessed with her home. However, this story ditches the subplots that seemed to go nowhere in the prior film. Here, the screenwriters build on the original plot by George Kelly, and add more character development. As a result, Harriet becomes a more three-dimensional person.
The film opens with Harriet preparing for a trip to visit her ailing mother. Harriet is running the small house staff (Mrs. Harold played here by Viola Roache, and Lottie, played by Ellen Corby), and her cousin Clare (K.T. Stevens) ragged. Harriet is also incensed that she cannot contact her husband, Walter (Wendell Corey). But in the next scene, much about Harriet is revealed. Her
mother is quite ill, but it is a mental illness, and a severe one. Harriet is eager to please her mother; it becomes quickly apparent that her mother is only person she really loves. We also discover that Harriet was abandoned by her father when she was 14 (after she discovered him having an affair with a co-worker). As a result, she has no trust at all for men.
This film also subtly changes the relationship between Harriet and Walter. They have been married for over four years. She does rule the roost, but there is an affection for him that we did not see in the prior film. When she returns to find the house in disorder (Walter had friends over for a poker party), she goes up to reprimand him, but looking at him asleep, a small smile creeps across her face, and she rumples his hair to wake him. And, while she does scold him for the mess (what wife wouldn't), it is kindly done. And they end up kissing in the bed. It should be noted that this Harriet uses sex to control her Walter (but it is pretty clear that she enjoys it as well!) When he wants to go out golfing, she points out that she will be upstairs in the bathtub. The look on Walter's face as he cancels his outing tells us everything we need to know. Obviously, this Harriet is FUN in the bedroom! Her actions are usually motivated by jealousy and fear. Everything is about keeping him close to home and close only to HER.
Harriet's nastiness is
especially apparent in her behavior towards the servants. Lottie (Ellen
Corby) is an especial victim of her bile. Harriet is contemptuous of
her; even giving her flowers for her room is a sign of her disregard for
the woman (Harriet dislike flowers and especially dislikes that they
came from Mrs. Frazier.)
And then there is cousin Clare. Clare is portrayed as a doormat. She takes everything Harriet dishes out, and whines about how grateful she is. When she finally realizes that Harriet has been manipulating her to keep her away from her boyfriend, Wes, Clare leave, because she hopes that Wes will now take care of her. In the end, we found Clare to be almost as unpleasant as Harriet.
Other changes in this version: Harriet's is willing to have a party in her home; but while she consents to entertain, but only the guests SHE chooses. None of Walter's friends are welcome. The
Vase, which is quickly established in both films as Harriet's pride and joy, here is described as Ming China, and therefore quite valuable; in the prior film, no such claim was made. As mentioned before, the loss of the subplots is a definite plus here, as is the addition of Walter's friend, Billy Birkmire (Allyn Joslyn). Finally, there is her attitude towards children. In both films, she dislikes children, but in this version we discover she lied to Walter about her ability to conceive. We also find out she is willing to have a child IF it will keep Walter in place.
As in the first film, we were particularly taken with the scene in which Mrs. Harold (Viola Roache) resigns. It's quiet different in many respects, but the impact is the same. Both actresses shine as they face each other down. We also very much enjoyed Lucile Watson as Celia Fenwick. Mrs. Fenwick takes an immediate liking to Walter, and has Harriet's number in about two seconds. She seems to be trying to separate Harriet and Walter. But she is funny - we realize that she is cheating at cards, and that Walter knows it!
A nod as well to Sheila O'Brien, Crawford's designer in the 1950s. She creates the gowns for the film, and they were noteworthy. Here's a suit that we found particularly beautiful. We particularily loved the delicate collar.
A few weeks ago, we watched two different versions of the same story. We are doing it again. The time, we begin with the 1936 version of the Pulitzer Prize winning play be George Kelly (uncle of Grace Kelly), Craig's Wife. This is the story of a woman who married for a house, rather than for love or position. And it is directed by Hollywood's only woman director in this period, Dorothy Arzner.
Harriett Craig (as played by Rosalind Russell) is the very model of a total bitch (one of our group said that if you look up "bitch" in the dictionary, Harriet's picture is there). She is cold and calculating, a liar and a snob. Her attitude to everyone is supercilious, no one is as smart as she and no one is good enough to set foot in her precious house. She has no friends, and has made sure her husband Walter (John Boles) is distanced from his friends. Friends, after all, might want to visit, and no one is allowed into the temple that Harriet has created. Harriet is fascinated by objects, and revolted by anything that she perceives as mess. Flowers are forbidden in her "temple". The petals might get on the table.
The film opens while Harriet is away. Her sister is ill, and Harriet goes to visit her for a few days. While there, Harriet decides to bring her niece Ethel (Dorothy Wilson) home with her (Harriet has decided that he sister will recover more quickly if she is left alone). On the trip back, Harriet lectures the young woman on the benefits of a loveless marriage, and the security of a well-to-do husband. Meanwhile, back home, her husband has used her time away to visit his friend Fergus Passmore (Thomas Mitchell), an unhappy alcoholic, who suspects his wife's fidelity.
There really is no motivation given for Harriet's obsessive behavior about her home. We also don't know much about the marriage; in the play, Harriet and Walter have been married for only 18 months. This film gives us no idea of the length of the marriage. Since Walter doesn't seem to be unhappy at the start of the film, his switch to utter disgust of his wife is rapid. Certainly, a lot of small things happen to tarnish his image of her (his Aunt Austen's lecture, Harriet's unwillingness to cooperate with the police), but he's been living with her for awhile. His rebellion seems a bit precipitous here. We found it amusing that Harriet forbids Walter to smoke in the house, something that would have been quite offensive to viewers in 1936 (maybe she suspected that second-hand smoke is bad!).
We were very impressed by Rosalind Russell in this film. She is not afraid to make Harriet unlikeable. Even her attitude towards her sister and niece is reserved to the point of disinterest. Her Harriet is totally dead inside. Also quite good was Billie Burke as the neighbor, Mrs. Frazier, a warm, affectionate woman with a love for flowers and children. She serves as the perfect foil to Harriet. We've already been told at multiple points what a harridan Harriet is and how difficult it is for her staff. Poor Mazie (played beautifully by Nydia Westman) is treated shabbily by Harriet, even though she has taken on the cooking responsibilities (she was hired as a housemaid), the most recent cook having resigned. We find out that there is so much turnover in the staff, the employment agency won't send a new cook until the home has been inspected. So, when Jane Darwell, as the housekeeper, Mrs. Harold has her final confrontation with Harriet, you want to cheer as Mrs. Harold takes the
match.
One thing to note, when you see Thomas Mitchell, you will assume that this subplot will actually have a conclusion. Like a lot of the subplots here, it does not. Primarily because these incidents don't affect Harriet - she won't let them.
We recommend to you the excellent TCM article for more insights into the making of this interesting picture. This is an excellent film, and well worth your viewing.
Several years ago, our group began our quest for pre-code films. We viewed the wonderful Barbara Stanwyck in Night Nurse (1931) at that time. Recently, I re-watched the film with a newer member of the group, and here share some of our thoughts. Stanwyck plays Lora Hart, a young woman who passionately wants to be a nurse. We meet Lora as she applies for a position in a hospital nursing school. However, Lora does not have a high school diploma - her mother's illness forced her to withdraw from school shortly before graduation - and the nursing matron will not accept her. As she leaves the hospital, she literally runs into Dr. Bell (Charles Winninger) who, it turns out, is the hospital administrator. Bell is quite taken with the attractive young woman, and decides to support her application. Lora becomes friendly with her roommate, Nurse Maloney (Joan Blondell), and Mortie (Ben Lyon), a bootlegger whom she assists (after he is shot). After graduation, she finds herself in a conundrum - her nursing oath demands that she obey the orders of the doctor in charge, but Lora quickly realizes that Doctor Ranger is in cahoots with Nick, the Chauffeur (Clark Gable) to murder two little children for their trust fund.
There is a lot of rowdy goings-on in this film. We have our heroine in a state of undress several times (and Ms. Maloney joins her in one of these slip-teases once). We have a bootlegger, who is not above asking his friends to take someone for a ride (we won't tell you who). We have a dipsomaniac mother, a doctor who may be on drugs, and a murderous chauffeur. And we possibly have an off-screen rape (see the TCM article for more on that). Want to see more, here is a clip of Stanwyck in one of the slip scenes:
We also have some outstanding performances. Joan Blondell as the gum-chewing Maloney is a hoot. She's not really interested in nursing - it's just the only job that will pay you to go to school! However, you like Maloney, who is quite good at her job, and a true friend. It's Maloney who first recognizes that the children are being mistreated, and her concern is real.
Clark Gable is very menacing as Nick - this was a breakthrough role for him, and it is understandable. Director William Wellman uses this up-and-coming star to good effect. In the TCM article we previously referenced, there is a discussion of Stanwyck and Blondell's reaction to this new man on the block. It's quite humorous. Finally, there is Stanwyck herself - her Lora truly wants to be a nurse. Watch the scene where the nurses take the Nightingale oath, and watch Stanwyck's eyes. Her idealism radiates (as opposed to Maloney, who keeps cracking her gum!). Also, watch her when she meets Dr. Bell, and later when she discusses him with Maloney. How DID she explain her predicament to him? Lastly, there are her interactions with the children - her tenderness is moving.
Join us next time for another film - the first of two versions of the same story.
Venice Muir (Constance Bennett) is a wealthy young woman. Her parents are dead; she is quite alone in the world. Much as she wants to meet someone, she can't seem to get a man interested in her. The men in her circle are much more attracted to the merry widow who was suspected of poisoning her husband. Finally, Venice meets a man who seems to be interested in her. Donnie Wainwright (David Manners) gets a bit inebriated, and proposes. He asks Venice to travel to Europe with him, and marry him on the ship. But morning brings sobriety and a better offer from the widow, and Venice finds herself alone, bound for Europe. Once there, Venice decides to change her image - she hires a young man (Ben Lyon as Guy Bryson) to pose as a gigolo, and finds that men are now pursuing HER. Thus begins Lady with a Past (1932), a pre-code film which puts forth the premise that men don't make passes at good girls.
Constance Bennett is fantastic here. Her Venice is sweet, kind, and innocent of the ways of the world. But she has a great sense of humor, especially about herself. She is alone so much, she finds that she spends a lot of time talking to herself. "I talk so much to myself that I'm all worn out when I meet people", she bemoans. Yet, she retains her sense of humor, in spite of feeling that she is inferior to everyone else.
While David Manners makes an interesting object of Venice's affection, the character that was by far the most interesting is Guy Bryson. He, like Venice, has a wicked sense of humor. And he genuinely likes her. Though she is paying him, it is evident that he is there because he likes her and wants to help her. In the clip below, we are introduced to Guy; we rather hoped that he was the man of Venice's dreams. He is a sweetie who doesn't "even mind that she is a good girl".
A TCM article which discusses this film is well worth a read. Especially interesting is the review that is included, in which the reviewer says that Bennett's Venice "gives hope to shy bookworms everywhere". We heartily recommend this under-appreciated little gem.
Towards the end of World War I, a nurse in England, Doris Kendall (Constance Bennett) meets an American soldier (Joel McCrea as Captain Barry Craig). They fall in love; he wants to marry her, but if he does, she will be sent back to America, and she desperately wants to stay in Europe to be near him. They spend the night together, just before he leaves for the front. And then, the floor falls out from under Doris when she learns that Barry is missing, presumed dead. Thus begins Born to Love (1931). Certainly, Born to Love is a melodrama, but a very well-done one, with enough twists and turns to keep you guessing til the end of the film. Sure, we know that Barry isn't dead fairly early on, but that does not keep the suspense active - will Doris find out that Barry is alive in time? Will she leave her new husband (Paul Cavanagh as Sir Wilfred Drake)? There's more, but that would give too much away. We saw some interesting similarities to other films we have watched. The scene in which we discover that Barry and Doris have been intimate is delicately handled. The resulting out-of-wedlock baby reminded us of the post-code To Each His Own. Both are set during the First World War; both result in the mother having to make a decision about the child's (and their own) futures. And both are quite subtle in letting us know that more has happened than immediately meets the eye. Late in the film, there is a tragic occurrence; the film uses a silhouette convey the tragedy. Interestingly the same technique was used in the 1937 Adventure in Manhattan, which also starred Joel McCrea. There is even a line of dialog that is remarkably similar. McCrea appears to be the only common link between two film. Is it possible he suggested the line? Or did the authors see Born to Love? I suspect we will never know.
Constance Bennett is excellent in this film. We were again taken with her versatility as a screen actress. She is able to move seamlessly from comedy to intense drama. And certainly the plot of this film demands an intensity of emotion. Joel McCrea again plays a man who is not entirely likeable. His Barry is selfish; he shows up after Doris has married, urging her to abandon her husband AND her child for him. We wondered why he had never tried to communicate with her until then (a period of nearly a year). He says he was very ill; could he not find a nurse willing to write to his fiance and let her know he was alive? Those two things made us very distrustful of him; we saw him as quite childish and unreliable. Which made us more sympathetic to Sir Wilfred. Except that Sir Wilfred ultimately shows himself to be the biggest cad of all. This man who originally seems kind, strong, and loving turns out to be cruel, cowardly, and sneaky. As we said, this is not a simple film. We have a couple of character actors to mention - Louise Closser Hale as Wilfred's aunt, Lady Agatha Ponsonby is quite good. Her character is no-nonsense. At first she doesn't seem to think all that much of Doris, yet when things get tough, she is gone. As though she doesn't want to be involved in her nephew's calumny. And Frederick Kerr as Lord James Ponsonby (or Uncle James, as Doris calls him) is quite good as the only truly good man in the film. He dislikes his nephew's actions, but has no control over him. Uncle James' distress is quite evident, as is his affection for Doris. Next time, we'll be seeing another Constance Bennett film. We hope to see you then.
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