Bob Sings to the Kids

I'm afraid we are at week two of disappointing movies.  Meet Miss Bobby Socks (1944) stars Bob Crosby as Don Collins, a soldier just recently released from service (we are not told why. Given that the war is still raging, he must have been hurt in some way that prevented his return to the front.  He shows no evidence of wounds, however, nor does he inform us of any injuries).  While overseas, he's been receiving letters from a young woman, and he goes to visit her.  He believes his pen pal is Helen Tyler (Lynn Merrick), but is stunned to discover that it is, in fact, Lynn's 15 year-old sister Susie (Louise Erickson) who is the correspondent.  Susie, of course, immediately falls in crush with Don; Don is more interested in Helen.  Helen is not impressed with Don, who begins his conversation by insulting teachers.  Of course, Helen is a teacher.

The film is primarily an excuse to highlight some musical numbers; the plot merely a device to keep us engaged between numbers.  The problem is, the acting isn't great, and the musical numbers are odd.  Let's start with Bob Crosby.  He's no actor, and his claim to fame is that he is Bing's little brother.  Bob spent his career as a band leader - though he was chosen by the band (an offshoot of the Ben Pollack Orchestra) mainly because of the Crosby name.  His singing style is imitative of Bing, but without the elan that made the elder Mr. Crosby a household name. 

The film ends with two numbers that feel inserted, and are very bizarre. The first is by Louis Jordan and His Tympany Five.  Jordan is an influential musician - whose musical stylings inspired James Brown, Chuck Berry and Little Richard.  Jordan, who often called "The Grandfather of Rock and Roll", has been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  Below is a clip from this film; we found the number rather off-putting, but perhaps our readers have a different opinion?

Also included was an Asian trio (the group also performed as a quartet) called the Kim Loo Sisters.  Three of the girls toured with USO in the European Theatre of Operations during WWII, so they would have been familiar to the GIs - the probable target audience for Meet Miss Bobby Socks.  As with the Louis Jordan number, it's obvious that the number was filmed outside of this film, and inserted into the action.

The sad thing is that the one good actor in this film - Lynn Merrick - is given very little screen time.  We spend much more time with Susie, who looks much more than 15, and is obnoxious.  Actress Louise Erickson made only three films (and one short). Then retired to be the wife of Ben Gazzara.  It would be nice if we could say this was a lose to film history. But if this film is any example, it wasn't.

There are several character people, including John Hamilton (R. N. Swanson), who are given no screen credit at all (despite having several scenes in the film.  Too bad, as he is a much better actor than the lead.

We close with the musical number featuring Louis Jordan and His Tympany Five:

 

Dorothy Marries a Doctor

Mother Didn't Tell Me (1950) is the story of Jane Morgan (Dorothy McGuire), a successful radio jingle writer, who catches a cold and goes to the doctor.  One look at Dr. William Wright (William Lundigan) and Jane is hooked.  In short order, she and Bill have become engaged, much to the disgust of her new mother-in-law (Jessie Royce Landis).  Mrs. Wright, it seems, wants Bill to marry a former coworker, Helen Porter (Joyce MacKenzie) who is currently in medical school.  Helen will understand the obligations of being a doctor's wife - something that Mrs. Wright feels that Jane will never comprehend.  Jane, of course, is madly in love, and she and Bill rush headlong to the altar.  And then they begin to discover the many problems inherent in marriage, especially when one partner has an all-consuming career.

Having just finished an online course with Dr. Jeanine Basinger on the history of marriage in the movies, it was interesting to come across another marriage film, for this surely is a film about marriage, albeit marriage to a doctor.  We have many of the issues of conflict - money, in-laws, children, jealousy - that were discussed in the class.  But here, the jealousy is not limited to that of one spouse to another person.  In this film, the jealousy extends to the the spouse's job, which constantly pulls him from the family unit.  This is also a film about "marrying in haste and repenting at leisure".  For, while Mrs. Wright's attempted sabotage of the marriage is wrong, her fear that the couple are rushing into a lifetime commitment is on target.  This pair have no knowledge of one another, and yet wed regardless.

Once married, Jane does have good reason to be frustrated.  Bill is an absolute bonehead.  He buys a house, sight unseen, only to discover that it is an empty shambles (when he expected a fully-furnished paradise).  He never told Jane they had to move, never talked to her about the house, and spent every last dime he had to buy it.  When Jane isn't feeling well, and goes to a colleague of Bill's for some tests, Bill forgets to tell her that she is pregnant.  How this man is able to run a medical practice is beyond us.

It's not just men who get this fuzzy end of this lollipop - the women get it in spades as well.  We have Mrs. Wright and her cadre of medical wives and widows, who are a bunch of gossiping fishwives and meddlers.  We have Dr. Helen Porter, who went to medical school to get, not her MD, but her Mrs.  And we have Jane, who is supposed to have a brain in her head, but rarely acts like it.  Women are shown as totally incompetent.  Though Jane is good at her job, the minute she marries, she becomes a housewife for a man that is never home.  A sign of the times, perhaps - it seems as though this film is part of the post-war backlash against working women.

Since the film has a cute beginning, it's a big disappointment when it falls apart. Dorothy McGuire is always an engaging actress, but her Jane is eventually just annoying. And William Lundigan is far worse as Bill. He brings vagueness to a new level, and makes you want to avoid ANY doctor, not just him.

Lundigan and McGuire are not only members of the cast being misused. Leif Erickson as psychiatrist Dr. Bruce Gordon is downright insulting to the medical profession in general and psychiatry in particular. We remember Erickson not only from his many supporting film roles, but also as the imposing patriarch in the TV western The High Chaparral. In this film, you are relieved when he is gone from the screen. It doesn't help that the scenes with him serve no useful purpose; they are stupid, and not the least bit amusing. 

June Havoc's Maggie Roberts is the only sympathetic woman in the bunch, Jane's sole friend (didn't Jane have friends BEFORE she married?).  Maggie has come to terms with being a doctor's wife, but she understands the problems that are facing Jane; she lives with them every day.  Havoc, of course, was better known as "Baby June" of Gypsy fame and the sister of Gypsy Rose Lee.  However, Havoc was a notable actress in her own right.  After leaving vaudeville, Havoc appeared on Broadway (Pal Joey and Mexican Hayride, as well as playing Miss Hannigan in Annie), in films (My Sister Eileen and Gentlemen's Agreement) and on television (General Hospital).  She was nominated for a Tony Award for the direction of Marathon '33, which she also wrote, and was inducted into the American Theatre Hall of Fame.  She died at age 97, in 2010.

Also wasted is Gary Merrill whose major role is to find out that Jane is pregnant (and not even get to tell her about it).  Merrill would play a doctor again in The Girl in White.  He had much more to do in the later picture.

By the end of this film, you just want it to be over.  It was a good premise, but one that is badly overdone.  This New York Times review sums it up very nicely.  All in all, this is not a film to watch if you are a fan of Dorothy McGuire (which we are).  Try The Spiral Staircase or The Enchanted Cottage instead.

New Yorker Nancy

We've not had a lot of opportunities to view the films of Nancy Carroll, but when we've gotten the chance to see her, we are always surprised and delighted by this wonderful, virtually unknown actress.  We had previously encountered her in an early Cary Grant film, Hot Saturday.   This week, we viewed Child of Manhattan (1933), which stars Nancy as Madalaine McGonagle, a dance-hall girl who meets the hall's landlord, widower Paul Otto Vanderkill (John Boles) when he drops by the club to check out his property.  Paul is enchanted by this little native New Yorker (she's got a fairly thick Manhattan accent), and within a short time, he has asked her to become his mistress (he doesn't want his family to know about their relationship).  She agrees, and is immediately rejected by her mother and brother (both of whom were QUITE willing to accept Paul's beneficence when the relationship was not so open).  In short order, Madalaine discovers that she is pregnant, and Paul agrees to marry her.  But when the child dies shortly after birth, Madalaine is consumed with guilt. 

Nancy Carroll had a long career - she began as a stage actress, going over to films in 1927 (she did appear on Broadway in the 1930s, at the height of her popularity).  Among her notable film appearances was in Abie's Irish Rose, with Charles "Buddy" Rogers as her Abie.  Her last film role was in 1938.  She retired for awhile, but eventually transitioned to television for a few roles in the 1950s and early 60s.  She also returned to the stage, and died at age 60 while performing in a play.  She is adorable in this film - you like her Madalaine immediately, as Carroll has the ability to project innocence and goodness, even as she portrays a character who is NOT conforming to society's norms.

Another actor who is not as well known today as he should be is John Boles.   We've discussed him before in our commentary on Craig's Wife, and he is best remembered for his role opposite Barbara Stanwyck, as her husband Stephen in Stella Dallas.  Like Carroll, Boles started in silents, where he worked with actresses such as Gloria Swanson.  It's hard to imagine him not talking, though, his voice is so mellifluous.  His pre and post film career is also very interesting.  He worked as a spy during the WWI; by 1943, he left films and went to back to work as a stage actor (He was in the original Broadway cast of the musical One Touch of Venus with Mary Martin).  He also went into the oil business.  He and his wife were married for 52 years, until his death in 1969. Coincidentally, the Flick Chick just did a wonderful commentary on John Boles, which we recommend to you.  His portrayal of Paul gives a sympathetic and likeable character.  Even when he asks Madalaine to live with him out-of-wedlock, it's hard to dislike him, as he always seems to care deeply for her.

There are some other performers in the film who deserve mention.  First is Jane Darwell as Madalaine's mother.  With her Irish accent, Mrs. McGonagle at first seems caring (though her willingness for Madalaine to accept a $1,000 gift from Paul is a bit suspect). Ultimately, though, Mrs. McGonagle disowns her daughter for openly consorting with Paul. But what we remember about her is that Mrs. McGonagle and son Buddy are interested only in the money that Madalaine provides to the house, not in protecting her.  By going under Paul's protection, Madalaine leaves the house, and her income leaves with her.   

If you blink, you will miss Betty Grable appearing as Madalaine's sister, Lucy. It's certainly not her first movie role, but it will be awhile before Grable becomes the superstar she would become.  Buck Jones, however, as Panama Kelley, was a well-known western star of the silent era.  At this point, he was attempting to recreate his career, and would go on to some success as a western star in the talkies.  His Panama is a noble man, who deeply loves Madalaine and only wants the best for her.  Sure, he's a bit common, but he is decent.  Jones manages to make him engaging with very little screen time.  Jones would die in 1942 after being burned in a horrific fire at the Coconut Grove hotel.  Stories vary, but one says that his death was the result of his repeated efforts to rescue people trapped in the hotel. Is it true? We'll probably never know, but one would like for him to have this epitaph.

Interestingly, the 1932 Broadway play on which this film is based was written by the always wonderful Preston Sturges.  Neil Hamilton was originally cast as Paul, but two weeks into filming, Boles replaced him.  The reason for the switch is not evident.  

Both Carroll and Boles are costumed exquisitely by Robert Kalloch in this delightful little film. We recommend it highly!

George's Wives

The silence on our end was occasioned by a number of activities involving your humble scribe - one of which was her recent marriage.  Now that we are back to our normal routine, we begin with a 1936 film.  Snowed Under stars George Brent as playwright Alan Tanner, Genevieve Tobin as his first ex-wife Alice Merrit, and Glenda Farrell as SECOND ex-wife Daisy Lowell, all trapped in the mountains after a snowstorm.

Alan Tanner is a successful playwright, however his latest play is proving to be a difficult nut to crack - he can't seem to get the third act written.  He's retreated to a mountain cabin to write.  His publisher is not convinced that Alan can complete the play, so he asks ex-wife Alice to go up and visit Alan, and possibly help him with the writing.  She arrives to find Alan under siege from his would-be next wife (Patricia Ellis as Pat Quinn), Daisy, Sheriff Orlando Rowe (Frank McHugh), and Daisy's lawyer McBride (John Eldredge) - the latter two enlisted by Daisy to collect back alimony.  Thus, a quiet weekend devolves into a loud, frantic mess.

Quite frankly, this is a fairly stupid film.  Sure, it's a farce, with lots of running around and slamming doors and yelling.  While you want it to be a film version of the famous play Noises Off, what you get instead is a not-very-witty hodgepodge of romance and mayhem.

There are so many good actors here, you would think they could pull something out of their hat to rescue this mess, but they can't.  George Brent is given very little character to work with.  Mostly, he is passive, with his various women throwing things at him. Genevieve Tobin has a little more to work with, and as a result is more enjoyable.  But when  you get to such usually fantastic actors as Frank McHugh and Glenda Farrell, one throws up one's hands in frustration.  McHugh is downright annoying as Orlando, and Farrell is WAY too  over-the-top as Daisy.  You can't wait for the scenes with them to be over.  It's rather hard to understand why Alan married Daisy (just as it is equally hard to understand his attraction to Pat).  While both are attractive in their own way, they are equally hard on the nerves - a quality that is already visible in Pat.  And Daisy's crudeness is clearly not of recent vintage.

Both Ellis and Tobin retired shortly after the release of Snowed Under - Tobin to marry William Keighley; Ellis to wed a Kansas City businessman.  Both women had over 40 films credits when they left the industry, but neither had been able to rise to leading lady status.  This TCM article provides some history for the film, as well as some information on the critical reception.

We end with a trailer which will give you a quick overview of the film.  Next time, we turn back to the Pre-code era for a Nancy Carroll film.

Jean Moves to the City

Three Wise Girls (1932) stars Jean Harlow as Cassie Barnes, a small-town beauty who is sick of being badly paid in a local soda fountain so her boss can paw her.  Encouraged by the success of a another young woman from town, Cassie moves to New York City, where she finds more of the same kinds of bosses.  One day, she finally decks the latest sexually abusive boss, gets fired, but manages to get her pending pay with the help of Jerry Wilson (Walter Byron), a visitor to the shop.  Cassie's life turns around when her inspiration for her move, Gladys Kane (Mae Clark) helps her get a job as a model.  Cassie begins to date Jerry, not knowing that Jerry is a married man, and that her life is taking the same sad path as that of Gladys - in love with a man who can provide nothing but a fancy apartment. 

The film is very reminiscent  of the previously discussed Our Blushing Brides, which starred Joan Crawford as a woman facing challenges similar to those of Cassie. Harlow is quite good in her first starring role as a young woman with drive, but with scruples.  Our introduction to her, as Cassie walks home after her date attempts to go too far, gives us an immediate insight into her character.  We were also very amused at the scene in which she tries to get a job as a model.  Her idea of how a model would walk is a hoot.

Marie Prevost is wonderful as Dot, Cassie's roommate.  Dot is content to find happiness with an ordinary man and to live within her budget.  Prevost's turn of phrase is always amusing, and she makes a good counterpoint to the more ambitious Cassie. It's a shame that Marie Prevost didn't have a more substantial career in the sound era.  Though active in silent films (she made a total 121 silent films); her career never really seems to have taken off in talkies.  After 1933, offers began to peter off, and she found herself unable to get roles.   She died in 1937, at age 38, the result of alcoholism and malnutrition.  Interestingly, her sad life was one of the motivating factors for the creation of the Motion Picture & Television Country House and Hospital.

We also enjoyed  Walter Byron as Jerry.  He too started in the silent era, most notably in Queen Kelly, starring Gloria Swanson in the title role.  Byron had a fairly busy career in the 1930s, but by the end of that decade, he was appearing primarily in uncredited roles.  So, in 1942, he retired.  He died in 1972 at age 72.

It was enjoyable to see Andy Devine in a small role as Callahan, Jerry's chauffeur and Dot's love interest. And the lovely Mae Clark as Gladys was very good.  One forgets that Mae did a lot more than get a grapefruit shoved in her face.  She worked widely in the 1930s, in such films as Frankenstein (as Elizabeth), the 1931 Waterloo Bridge (as Myrna), and Penthouse.  Later in her career, she worked in supporting roles and in television until 1970.  She died in 1992 at age 81.

Though the film was not as well received as the studio would have liked, as this TCM article points out, Harlow hit a popular note, and a star was born. 

Jean is Jealous of Loretta

Though Loretta Young (as Gallagher, the young reporter with no first name) is listed as the star of Platinum Blonde (1931), it's Jean Harlow as socialite Ann Schuyler who steals the film.  When reporter Stew Smith (Robert Williams) visits the Schuyler home to determine the validity of rumors about Ann's brother Michael, Stew is instantly smitten by the lovely Ann.  She is less impressed, but when Stew is able to retrieve (and return to the family) some incriminating letters written by Michael, Ann discovers that Stew is appealing indeed.  Their elopement is an anathema to her family, but Ann is determined to have Stew fit into HER world, whether Stew likes it or not.

This is a very enjoyable film, with good performances by Jean Harlow and Robert Williams.  As we mentioned, Young's name is above the title, but she doesn't stand a chance once Harlow shows up.  Harlow's Ann is quite appealing, perhaps because she doesn't seem as upper class and snooty as the rest of the Schuyler family.  This TCM Article discusses the problems Harlow had with sounding "sophisticated."  She especially had some difficulties with the word "library".  While director Frank Capra must have despaired at getting her to sound right, in the long run, it works in her favor.  We want to like them as a the couple, despite the fact that Ann is doing all she can to make her young husband into an upper-class twit.

That this is a pre-code film is readily apparent by the relationship between Stew and Ann. It's really one of lust more than of love.   Though Stew is clearly his own man, Ann is determined to tame him, and make him an appendage to her lifestyle.  She has no clear understanding of his career goals (he wants to write a play, for one thing) and would be quite satisfied if he stayed home and played at being a society husband.

Louise Closser Hale, a character actress we've admired before, is terrific as Ann's horror of a mother.  Mrs. Schuyler couldn't be a bigger snob, and her disregard for anyone not in her social circle makes her unlikeable AND humorous.  Her "consort" of sorts is Reginald Owen as lawyer Grayson.  Grayson does all of Mrs. Schuyler's dirty work, and enjoys every minute of it.  The character provides someone at whom Stew can direct his animosity, and Owen does an admirable job of keeping the character distasteful.  Also well worth watching is Halliwell Hobbes as Smythe, the butler.  We would expect this character (really, the only one in the house with any class) to be the worst snob, but Hobbes gives us a likeable fellow who really is open to all classes.  The party scene in which he interacts with Stew's friends is a riot.

Robert Williams, who played Stew, is also delightful.  This, unfortunately, was his last film. He died at the age of 37, the result of peritonitis from a ruptured appendix.  He had only made 7 films - two shorts and 5 full-length films (one a silent).  We've actually reviewed two of his talkies: Devotion and The Common Law.  This film demonstrates his breezy style and screen presence. 

Though Ann is the one with most of the good clothing, our Loretta gets one smashing evening dress that takes your breath away.  It's amusing that Stew specifically asks HOW she got a dress like that (on a reporter's salary).  We wondered the same thing.  The name of the costumer is not provided, but this dress proves his/her talents.

Interestingly, the film was originally called "Gallagher" after Young's character, but was changed to demonstrate the power Harlow had in the film.  Directed by Capra and written in part by Robert Riskin, it provides an early example of their collaborative genius.

As we mentioned before, one scene that particularly stuck with us was the singing argument between Ann and Stew.  As referenced in the TCM article above, it does seem almost improvised. It also appears that Harlow and Williams are having quite a good time:

Joan Meets Her Mom

This Modern Age  (1931) stars a very blonde Joan Crawford as Valentine 'Val' Winters.  Val has been raised by her recently deceased father, who has left her a small income and a very little information about her mother, Diane (Pauline Frederick).  Diane, who now lives in Paris as the mistress of the very married André de Graignon (Albert Conti), has been absent from Val's life for many years (by court order).  De Graignon has set Diane up in a lovely apartment and given her a very comfortable life style.

Curious about her mother, Val journeys to Paris.  She is prepared to dislike the woman her father so abhorred; to her amazement, they love each other immediately.  Diane, determined to find a place for herself in her daughter's life, hides her past (and her present) and invites Val to remain with her in the apartment.  All is well until Val meets Bob Blake, Jr (Neil Hamilton), the son of a fairly snobby Boston family and they fall in love, much to the disdain of Mr. and Mrs. Blake, Sr.  And there is the problem of De Graignon, who is none too happy with the enforced celibacy brought on by Val's presence.

Though the pace of the film is a bit uneven - the middle seems very drawn out, while the ending is rushed and somewhat abrupt - this is an enjoyable movie.  The characters of mother and daughter are well drawn, and Pauline Frederick is a sympathetic figure as the  mother who doesn't want the life she chose for herself to impact her daughter.  Since we never see Val's father, and Val doesn't say much about him, we questioned what she knew about her mother, and what her father was really like.  All we know is what we learn from Diane prior to Val's arrival; we would have liked Val's opinion of him as well.

Joan Crawford is very good as Val.  She is both innocent and intelligent.  You believe that she is completely unaware of her mother's past.  You also believe in her deep affection for this woman who has been absent for most of her life.  

Also quite good is Monroe Owsley as Tony Girard.  For a change, Owsley gets to play a nice guy, and his Tony is a doll.  Yes, he drinks too much, but his genuine affection for Val is apparent.  Though a superficial person, he doesn't have a mean bone in his body.  He wants to love Val, but is so immature that he doesn't know how to love.

Neil Hamilton does a good job making Bob attractive as well.  When we are introduced to his family, it becomes hard to have a lot of regard for Bob, but Hamilton is able to keep you rooting for him.  There is an implication that Bob might have been a bit of a mama's boy - as soon as his parents realize that Bob is seeing someone seriously, they arrive in Paris to check her out.  One suspects they've been doing this to him for some time.  Of course, Boston and Harvard (Bob's alma mater) become synonyms for snobbery in this story.
A quick nod to the always talented Adrian for Crawford's magnificent dresses. Before we go, here is a snippet of the movie from YouTube, in which Val and Diane meet.  Watch Diane's subtle change of expression as she is introduced to her unknown daughter.  And take a look at Crawford's lovely white evening gown:

Joan B.'s on the Switchboard

I've Got Your Number (1934) is a film about the telephone: repairing them, using them, working with them.  It opens with a fascinating examination of the importance of the telephone in the 1930s - surely dated, but so enlightening.  In an age where we carry our phones with us, to see the phone being demonstrated as a new technology for both good and ill is a revelation.  As a native New Yorker, I also enjoyed the references to the old exchanges that, back in the day, told you the location of the phone (Nowadays, we carry our numbers with us, no matter where we live!)  

The story is a simple one.  Hotel switchboard operator Marie Lawson (Joan Blondell) inadvertently provides information to gangster Nicky (Gordon Westcott) that results in a financial loss for a guest.  Marie is forced to resign when telephone repair man Terry Reilly (Pat O'Brien) determines the security breech was human rather than machine.  Terry assists Marie in finding a new job.  Only problem is, Nicky is planning to use Marie's new position in a financial office to steal some some securities.  

The film is a tad silly, but it is amusing.  Terry and partner Johnny (Allen Jenkins) make telephone repair look like the most fun job in the world.  And while we have some really great actors, the script doesn't give them a whole lot of time to flesh out their characters.  Terry does a complete about-face when he meets Marie - going from roué to devoted suitor in about ten seconds,though O'Brien does a really good job at making the switch believable.  And Blondell's  Marie come across as very naive.  How can she not know that Nicky is a snake, especially after the incident at her first job?  She's awfully trusting of a man she doesn't seem to like all that much, yet she is obviously, from her banter with O'Brien, very careful of her appearance with men.

Wonderful supporting actors abound:  We've already mentioned Allen Jenkins, who is, as always, a hoot.  We also have Glenda Farrell as Bonnie, aka Madame Frances, a would-be psychic, who's not very good at it and Louise Beavers as her assistant.  And the always wonderful Eugene Pallette as Terry's often frustrated boss, Joe Flood gives a fantastic performance as a man who wants to throttle the devil-may-care Terry, but, when the chips are down, is the first one to come to his defense.  

We were not very familiar with Gordon Wescott.  He made 34 films between 1931 and 1935, but died at the age of 32 from injuries sustained while playing polo. Another interesting bit of trivia - the last scene shows Blondell in bed.  Well, she really WAS confined to her bed - she had just had emergency surgery, and the studio did the scene in Blondell's own bedroom!  The book, Joan Blondell: A Life Between Takes states that the emergency was actually the result of a botched abortion.

Released in January of 1934, this film just makes it into the pre-code era, and, as a result, it is quite risque - there is much double entendre.  And the scene in which Terry lounges on a couch with Bonnie really needs no explanations.

Orry-Kelly does the film's costumes, and Joan Blondell has some wonderful dresses that no switchboard operator could afford.   The dress with a fur collar is especially attractive. 

Before we go, here is a trailer from the film:

Vivien's a Lady

The war is raging in England, and filmmakers rally to do their bit for the war effort.  The results of one of those endeavors is That Hamilton Woman (1941), starring Vivien Leigh as Emma Hart, Lady Hamilton and Laurence Olivier as Horatio Nelson.  The film was recently shown as part of AFI 100th Anniversary tribute to Vivien Leigh.  Leigh, still basking in her post-Gone With the Wind fame gets top billing here, in this story of passion and devotion to country.  Clearly, the love affair between Nelson and Lady Hamilton becomes an example of England's strength in the face of attack, with tyrant Napoleon standing in for dictator Hitler, and the lovers representing England giving up everything to preserve the nation.  

The story sticks pretty close to history - and juicy history it was.  Told in flashback, this is the story of Emma Hart, the lover of Charles Francis Greville, who arrives in Naples to visit Greville's uncle, the wealthy Sir William Hamilton (Alan Mowbray).  Hamilton is a lover of beauty, in music, in art - and in women.  Unbeknownst to Emma, Hamilton has literally purchased her from his nephew.  Within a few years, Emma, already the darling the English art circle, becomes the wife of Hamilton, as well as his hostess, and a major player in the Naples diplomatic circles.  Enter Horatio Nelson, a young Captain of the fleet.  Emma helps him approach the Queen of Naples for military assistance; afterwhich he departs.  Five years later, he returns; this time, they find themselves deeply in love.  Only problem is, both are married: Nelson's wife, Frances (Gladys Cooper) is at home in England. and quite naturally, she is none too pleased about her husband's involvement with the now notorious Lady Hamilton.  

That the film is attempting to put the past into the context of the present conflict facing England is quite apparent.  As mentioned above, the use of the term "dictator" in connection with Napoleon is a clear pointer to Adolf Hitler.  Nelson, of course, stands in for all the men who would give their lives for the nation. while Emma stands in the for the women who will lose all they love in the fighting.  The film even brings in some of the pictures done of Emma Hamilton:  the picture on the left is used as an emblem in the film.  Next to it is the original George Romney painting of the real Lady Emma.  
The film caused some real consternation among some representatives in Washington, DC, who were eager to stay out of the war.  They even went so far as to subpoena Alexander Korda.  His appearance was to be on December 17, 1941, but the events of December 7th eliminated the need for his visit.  This TCM Article goes into more on the history of the film.

This was the only film that  the always wonderful (and so spectacularly beautiful) Vivien Leigh, and her equally talented spouse, Laurence Olivier did together during the period of their marriage.  The film is also filled with splendid supporting actors.  Gladys Cooper is excellent as Frances Nelson.  The scene in which she sits down to knit as she is forced to converse with her rival, Emma, is great.  Obviously, Ms. Cooper was a knitter - and her needles do as much of the talking as does her voice.  Also good are Sara Allgood as Emma's lower-class mother, Mrs Cadogan-Lyon and Henry Wilcoxon as Captain Hardy.

As a knitter myself, I was interested to see the use of crafts to further our understanding of the main female characters.  As mentioned before, Frances knits.  Knitting, in the era, would have been a middle-class craft, used to create usable clothing for the members of the family.  Knitting was no hobby here; it was a necessary skill to keep the family warm.  Emma however, embroiders.  Embroidery was an upper-class craft, used to create pieces of art.  It was a hobby - an occupation for a woman who had no real work.  The lower-class Emma has risen to the position of having no need to work, while Frances remains the middle-class housewife, despite her husband's rise in status.

I close with a trailer for the film:

Joan Joins an Army

In 1931, a legendary film partnership began.  Joan Crawford and Clark Gable appeared together for the first time in Laughing Sinners, a pre-code romance.  We meet Ivy 'Bunny' Stevens (Crawford) in love - with Howard 'Howdy' Palmer (Neil Hamilton), a traveling salesman.  It's quite clear that the two are lovers, and that Howdy has promised to marry Ivy (or Bunny, as he calls her).  But while marriage IS on his mind, it's not marriage with her.  He has decided to marry the boss' daughter, and coward that he is, he runs away, leaving her a note about his intentions.  Some time later, Ivy tries to commit suicide, but is stopped by Carl Loomis (Clark Gable).  Carl, a Salvation Army worker, encourages her to leave her current life, and become a part of his world.  Giving to others, he feels, is what helped him to recover from the pains of a world that nearly destroyed him.  Within a short time, Ivy too has become part of the Salvation Army.  But then Howdy returns.

That this film is from the pre-code era is instantly apparent.  Ivy and Howdy are obviously having an affair; and a one-night stand is neither condoned nor condemned.  And all that is required for forgiveness to happen is honesty on the part of the parties involved, and a true attempt at repentance.  Because of Gable's forthrightness, Carl is shown as sympathetic and forgiving - not preachy.  He truly believes you can always restart your life, and his talks center on living  life squarely.  God is not brought into the equation.  Relatively speaking, the part of Carl is a small one, and we would have liked to have seen more of him.  Gable gets third billing in the film - behind Neil Hamilton, and Crawford (whose name is above the title). By the time he films Sporting Blood that same year, he has begun to be listed first; by the following year, his name is routinely above the title.

The Salvation Army is portrayed positively; and again, there is little emphasis on the religious aspects of the organization.  Rather, it is shown as a means of helping people get through difficult times in their lives. The Great Depression, which was still severely impacting the lives of Americans in 1931 is a major focus of the film.  Helping your fellow man is the means of both ending the Depression, and finding inner salvation.

As always, much of our conversation focused on Joan Crawford. She is so exquisitely  beautiful in this film, and her portrayal of Ivy is spot on.  Crawford manages to touch gently on the dilemma faced by her character, and to make her likeable and sympathetic.   Though her reformation requires that Ivy quit her job, she is never condemned for working in what appears to be a speakeasy. 

The portrait painted of the traveling salesmen in the film, however, shows them as carousing boozers.  Again, the pre-code aspects of the film are obvious - the purchase of alcohol is still illegal in 1931, yet the salesmen buy it with easy.  And since they seem to travel in bunches, they egg one another into bad behavior.

Laughing Sinners has a short, but tightly written script, based on Kenyon Nicholson's play, Torch Song, which opened on Broadway on 27 August 1930. Guy Kibbee here reprises the role of Cass Wheeler which he originated in that production, the only member of the cast to come over to the film (and Mayo Methot, who would become the wife of Humphrey Bogart, starred as Ivy).  Interestingly, Johnny Mack Brown was originally cast as Carl, but bad previews caused them to reshoot the part with Gable (for more information, see this TCM article).

As we depart, here is a trailer from the film: