Kay's Men

Vacations are over, and the Movie Night Group has reassembled for another Kay Francis movie.  This time, we chose another film version of a novel: Little Men (1940), loosely based on the Louisa May Alcott book, which followed the life of Jo March Bhaer (Kay Francis) after the events of Little Women.  And I do mean loosely.  The novel was a somewhat episodic look at six months in the lives of the staff and students of the Plumfield School, which is run by Jo and her husband (Charles Esmond).  The school has both male and female students, some of whom are relatives (Jo's sons, and sister Meg's daughter), as well as other boarding children.  And that is pretty much where any similarity to the novel ends.  Because this film (unlike the 1934 version which was much closer to the book) really is about the lives of Major Burdle (George Bancroft) - a medicine show salesman and con artist, his adopted son Dan (Jimmy Lydon), and Burdle's colleague - petty thief Willie the Fox (Jack Oakie).

While Kay Francis' Jo is really a great effort on her part, she's about the only one in the film that is attractive.  Professor Bhaer is a complete moron.  The film wants us to believe he is an innocent, but  he is, in fact, a complete doofus.  Imagine giving your life savings to a complete stranger because you like his face!  And this, when Professor Bhaer is already in debt because he is unable to approach the parents of the boarding students to collect the monies owed to him and his wife.  Because of Bhaer's stupidity, his home and his school are endangered (in the book, Jo and Bhaer own Plumfield outright - it was left to Jo by Aunt March).  Charles Esmond tries to make Bhaer appealing, but he doesn't have a whole lot to work with. Bhaer is beyond naive, and it is very difficult to get past his disregard for the safety of his family and students.

I suspect none of us would claim to be fans of Jack Oakie, but he is truly out-of-place in this story.  His "comic relief" is not really funny, and his inclusion in the plot doesn't make a whole lot of sense.  Without giving away the ending, his position as a deus-ex-machina is really silly. Our other lead, played by George Bancroft, is a con man and thief.  The only appealing aspect of his character is his love for his adopted son.  What Bancroft brings to the role is an obvious affection for the young man, and a desire that Dan have a better life than what Major Burdle can provide for him.

We are so used to seeing Kay Francis in prestige pictures that this RKO film seems like a very low budget film.  Francis, who was highly paid in the 1930s, was beginning to feel Warner Brothers disinterest in her, as the groomed younger (and lower paid) actresses like Bette Davis to replace her.  This TCM article goes into more detail about the persecution Francis faced: the studio even loaded her scripts with "r" words, so her lisp was emphasized. Despite that, her Jo is a good, strong character.  It's obvious though, that she is not the star - as you can see by the ad below, even a cow gets the same billing as Ms. Francis.

We'll be back next week with a 1940s mystery film. 

Hamlet

AFI Silver Theatre recently hosted a series of 70mm film extravaganzas.  In part three of this series of films, the 1996 Hamlet, with screenplay and direction by Kenneth Branagh (who also took on the title role) was featured.  As is noted on the AFI page, it's nearly impossible to see a 70mm film in a theatre any longer.  Many of the prints are not available, and the hardware to project them is virtually extinct.  I had seen this film when it opened on Christmas Day, 1996 in New York City at the Paris Theatre (on 58th Street, near 5th Avenue).  As the film is a rendering of the complete play (all 4 hours and 10 minutes, with a 15 minute intermission), I was excited to see it again (sure, I own the DVD, but even my big screen TV doesn't do it justice).  It is a major commitment,  to be sure, but one I was thrilled to make again. Shakespeare, Hamlet, Branagh, a movie theatre - it doesn't get better than that!

It should be noted that we attended this prior to Robin Williams untimely death.  Mr. Williams' appearance as Osric is short, and might have only warrented a brief comment, but combined with the events of last week, an extra poignancy was brought to the role. That Branagh mixes American and British actors in this production has always been a delight for me (Branagh did the same thing in his excellent Much Ado About Nothing).  Having Robin Williams in the part of a nonsensical fool brings a delightful humor to Osric.  He plays up the silliness of the character, but also gives him a degree of pathos.  So often noted for his remarkable comedy sense, we sometimes forget what a gifted dramatic actor Robin Williams is.  I am of the opinion that he is an excellent Osric. I would have loved to have seen him tackle another Shakespeare role - perhaps Jacques in As You Like It, the Fool in King Lear, or Malvolio in Twelfth Night.  Alas for the loss of such a gifted man; for the roles he will not play; but gratitude for the joy and revelation he brought to all our lives.

I did my master's degree in English literature; my specialization was Renassiance drama and Shakespeare.  Thus, I did a lot of coursework surrounding the works of the Bard (and, just as an aside - Shakespeare wrote Shakespeare!).  One of my instructors once said that he could never envision a Hamlet in which Hamlet and Ophelia were not lovers.  Until I saw this film, I was not of the same opinion, but as enacted by Branagh and Kate Winslet, I now find it difficult to see the play any other way.  Winslet's mad scene is especially cogent within the context - Ophelia's bawdy songs now have a great deal of meaning. One wonders if her madness is the loss of her father or her lover. And one other little thing.  This Hamlet is set in the winter in Denmark.  Not a flower to be seen; yet Gertrude still tells of Ophelia on the river bank playing with flowers.  Were they the imaginary flowers she toys with in the scene with Laertes? Or did something more sinister happen to the madwoman?  It's up to you to decide. 
 
The performances of Derek Jacobi as Claudius and Julie Christie as his bride, Gertrude are wonderful.  Casting Christie is quite insightful - this is a Gertrude worth murdering for!  And Jacobi is remarkable in portraying the ambiguity of Claudius.  He gives us a character who initially does want the good regard of his new stepson.  Flashbacks within the film show us a family relationship prior to King Hamlet's death that was convivial; thus Jacobi's Claudius is surprised at the change in his nephew's attitude towards him.

Besides Robin Williams, other American actors in the cast include Jack Lemmon as Marcellus, Charlton Heston as the Player King, and Billy Crystal as the First Gravedigger.  Mr. Lemmon doesn't have a lot to do in his part, but Heston and Crystal certainly do.  Mr. Heston is extremely good doing the Hecuba speech - he is an actor one forgets has a deep history with Shakespeare.  His Antony and Cleopatra is available on DVD; he in fact not only starred as Marc Antony, he was part of the writing team on the production and directed it.  It is, in fact, an excellent version of the story.  And Billy Crystal gives us a wry Gravedigger - humorous, but also quite intelligent and insightful.

Branagh is also includes in the film several actors who have themselves tackled the role of Hamlet.  Derek Jacobi is well known for his rendition in the 1980 BBC version of Hamlet.  We also have John Mills as Old Norway, who played Hamlet at the Old Vic in 1929, and John Gielgud, noted as one of the finest Hamlet's of his generation as Priam. Gielgud also directed another splendid Hamlet - Richard Burton - in his notable stage production (the Richard Burton Hamlet is available on home video).   For those of you who would like to see more of some of these other performances, snippets of other Hamlets are available on YouTube, including Richard Burton, Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud.

It will be a couple of weeks before our next posting (several members of the group are off on vacations).  In the meatime, we leave you with the remarkable Kenneth Branagh discussing his rendition of the "To Be or Not to Be" soliloquy.  Don't let the length of this production dismay you.  With superb acting, beautiful sets, and cinematography to die for, this is worthy of your time.

Eleanor Meets Herself

The setting is a small English village in the 1850s.  A young man arrives by train late at night.  No transportation is available, so he walks to his new residence, Limmeridge House, where he will be working as an art instructor.   En route, he meets an odd young woman, dressed all in white, who disappears when a carriage approaches.  Thus begins the mystery that is The Woman in White (1948), based on the novel of the same name by Wilkie Collins.

As a huge fan of Wilkie Collins and of the novel, I have mixed feelings about this film, which changes so many aspects of the original story (later on, I'll detail some of those changes).  My colleagues were not familiar with the book, nor with the 1997 BBC production (which appeared on PBS); as a result of our discussion, one member is planning to read the book, the other to take a look at the more recent adaptation.  Since our discussion of the film did look at the book as well, readers should be warned that spoilers will be included.  I usually try to avoid them; in this case, it would be impossible.

By and large, the group felt that the movie was disjointed, and once information about the book was included, they all said they would have liked a film that more closely followed the novel.  However, the change in the character of Laura Fairlie (Eleanor Parker) from namby pamby to someone who actually has a backbone, was a vast improvement.  Wilkie Collins painted his main heroine as the helpless blonde female - she is gorgeous and gentle, and therefore does not have a brain in her head, or the ability to do much more than faint in the face of adversity.  Eleanor Parker does a good job of portraying Laura, and of showing her attempted resistance of the dastardly Count Fosco.  Her Anne Catherick is a bit more mannered, and resulted in a number of jokes about "identical cousins".  In the novel, Anne and Laura are probably half-sisters.

Both book and film give us a strong, capable Marian Halcombe (Alexis Smith), here described as Laura's cousin; in the novel they too are half-sisters (Mr Fairlie was a busy man!)  But Ms. Smith is a beautiful woman, and Marian really should not be.  Walter Hartright (Gig Young) describes her thus in the novel:

The lady is ugly. . . . [her] complexion was almost swarthy, and the dark down on her upper lip was almost a moustache. She had a large, firm, masculine mouth and jaw; prominent, piercing, resolute brown eyes; and thick, coal-black hair, growing unusually low down on her forehead.

The Woman in White, Project Gutenberg

However, Walter also says that Marian appears "bright, frank, and intelligent."  And while Ms. Smith certainly appears "bright, frank, and intelligent," she is NOT ugly.  So, it is no surprise that at the end of the film, Walter ends up with the lovely, smart Marian, while in the novel, he weds the gorgeous, vapid, helpless Laura.  Alexis. Smith is excellent in the role; she projects an intelligence and engagement that is essential for the role to be successful.

Sydney Greenstreet as Count Alesandro Fosco, stays very close to the character as written in the book.  He has the same rather overpowering charm, and the same sinister demeanor.  His sincere admiration for Marian is also retained.  We meet him almost immediately, and, of course, are immediately suspicious of his intentions.  In the novel, we are not introduced to the character until after the marriage of Laura and Sir Percival Glyde.  He is not married to Anne Catherick's mother (the Countess Fosco, as played by Agnes Moorehead), and it is Walter, not Marian, who forces him to confess his intentions. 

All of these changes, and others, serve to diminish some of the power of the book, and it is unfortunate.  The book is quite cinematic; like Dickens, his friend and sometime collaborator, Collins was a very visual writer, and his descriptions would lend themselves well to film.

We spoke at some length about Gig Young.  The actor had changed his name about 6 years prior to this film, from Byron Barr to Gig Young, adopting the name of his character in The Gay Sisters.  This is the second film he made after returning from WWII, where he served in the Coast Guard.  He had a long and very varied career.  He was a talented comedic actor (in films like That Touch of Mink and Teacher's Pet), and a powerful dramatic actor, finally winning an Oscar in 1969 for They Shoot Horses, Don't They?  His death, at his own hand, at the age of 65 (he also murdered his new wife) remains a mystery to this day.

We leave you with an early scene, in which we get to meet several of the main characters:

Kay Leaves Ronald

James Warlock (Ronald Colman) has been happily married to Clemency (Kay Francis) for 7 years.  He is eagerly anticipating their upcoming wedding anniversary, only to discover that she is going on an extended trip with her younger sister, Garla (Florine McKinney).  It seems the madcap Garla has become involved with a man to whom her family objects, and their parents have requested that Clemency get her far away from temptation.  When Jim's friend John Tring (Henry Stephenson) discovers that Jim is at loose ends, Tring invites him out to dinner; John also invites two young ladies to join them.  Jim resists the attractions of Doris Lea (Phyllis Barry) at first, but when he meets her again, weeks later, he is lost.  An affair, which will have disastrous results for all involved, begins.

Cynara (1932) is told in flashback.  In the film's first scene we learn that Clemency knows of Jim's infidelity and that Jim's successful law career has been destroyed.  What follows is a chronicle of deceit and guilt, as Jim descends into a morass of lies and betrayals from which there is no return.

It's hard to actually dislike Jim - yes, he cheats on his wife, but from the minute he meets Doris, he is honest with her: he tells her he is married, that he loves his wife, that their affair is temporary.  But Doris, who has been down this road before (a key plot point at the end of the film), is desperate and unstable.  Today, we would call her a stalker.  Though Jim rebuffs her advances when they first meet, she actively pursues him.  She is unable to compartmentalize her feelings about him; as a result, she loses her job, and ultimately destroys both of them.

Clemency, on the other hand, becomes a victim of her own neglect.  Though she genuinely loves her husband, she takes him for granted.  She leaves on the eve of their wedding anniversary, without even a by-your-leave - Jim comes home to find her packing.  She will be gone for several months, yet she does not even consider discussing this move with her husband (who is presumably paying for her trip!).  One doesn't dislike Clemency - she is a caring woman, but it seems that she is oblivious to her husband's needs

Colman is, as always, pitch perfect. He is a fantastic actor, with perhaps the most glorious voice in film.  It's hard to believe that he started in silents (imagine that impressive voice unheard!)  However, one suspects that, with the advent of sound, Samuel Goldman rubbed his hands with glee at the thought of Colman's transition to sound.  (A TCM biography of Colman likens his voice to "crushed velvet").  Colman had started his career in the theatre, and in his later years, transitioned to appearances on radio and television, often appearing with his second wife, Benita Hume.  He won an Oscar for his role in A Double Life.  He died at age 67 (from acute emphysema) in 1958. 

Unfortunately, Kay Francis doesn't have a lot to do in this film.  Clemency is in Italy for most of it, and when she returns, she merely gets to look pained.  On the other hand, Phyllis Barry has quite a bit of screen time.  Her casting is interesting - and telling - as she rather resembles Kay Francis.  It only serves to emphasize that Jim seems to be seeking his arrant wife, rather than looking for a lover.  Barry had a fairly long career, though mostly in very small parts.  She died in 1954 of barbiturate poisoning.  For more on Cynara and the careers of Colman and Francis, see this TCM article.

The title Cynara is taken from a poem by Ernest Dowson.  The poem, Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynarae (1894) contains the line "I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion."  It ALSO contains another famous movie title:  Gone with the  Wind.  Another Dowson  poem supplied the title of The Days of Wine and Roses.

All in all, we found this an enjoyable film, and recommend it.  It is a wonderful example of early Colman.  We leave you with the opening of Cynara, in which we learn of Jim's downfall:

Bogie Fights the Nazis

This week, we move to the period just before the start of World War II to discuss All Through the Night (1941), a very funny - and entertaining - film from Warner Brothers.  'Gloves' Donahue (Humphrey Bogart) is a promoter in New York City.  Every day, 'Gloves' goes to his favorite restaurant for Miller's cheesecake.  The restaurant is under orders to ONLY serve Miller's cheesecake.  On one particular day, Papa Miller (Ludwig Stossel) has not made his usual delivery.  Though Papa Miller assures 'Gloves' that all is well, later that day, - following a frantic phone call from his mother (Jane Darwell) - 'Gloves' discovers Papa Miller has been murdered.  'Gloves' - the prime suspect of the police - and his crew investigate the murder, and find not only the murderer, but a passel of Nazis who have infiltrated New York City.

This film has an amazing cast.  Humphrey Bogart demonstrates his flare for comedy as 'Gloves' (whose given name is Alfred!), and is supported by actors like Frank McHugh (as newlywed Barney), William Demarest (as right-hand man Sunshine), and Jackie Gleason (as Starchy).  His opposition is just as impressive.  Peter Lorre as Pepi, our slimy villain was of particular interest.  He is an actor who is always fascinating to watch; he is not a disappointment here.  The wonderful Conrad Veidt is featured as Hall Ebbing, the ultimate Nazi; and Judith Anderson appears as Ebbing's comrade - she is just as menacing as she was in Rebecca.  Add Kaaren Verne as love interest Leda Hamilton and Phil Silvers (as a waiter in the restaurant), and you have a powerhouse of actors.  It's really it is the acting that make this film so enjoyable.  It has a good script, but coming from the mouths of these folks, the dialogue shimmers.

The film was released on December 2nd, 1941 - just 5 days before the United States would enter World War II.   Many of the studios tried to avoid any mention of the difficulties in Europe.  Certainly, this was an economic issue (insulting the Nazi party would assure that the studio's films would not be shown in Germany).  But censorship was an issue as well.  The Hays office, which governed film standards under the Production Code, was very clear that films which "would arouse very bad feeling in Germany" were to be avoided (The New Yorker.  "Hitler in Hollywood").  However, Warner Brothers had other ideas.  As this article from the American Film Institute discusses, Warner Brothers release of Confessions of a Nazi Spy in 1939 (based on an FBI case in New York) was the first explicitly anti-Nazi film made in America. It was produced in the face of numerous domestic and international threats, and reversed the policy of the Hays office. 

This film follows in that anti-Nazi vein, and features three actors who had a vested interest in showing the dangers of the Nazi party.  Conrad Veidt, whose wife was a Jew, left Nazi Germany for the United Kingdom in 1933, relocating the U.S. around 1940.  Peter Lorre was in a similar situation.  Though lauded by Nazi Minister of Propaganda Joseph Goebbel for his work in the film M, Lorre and his wife (actress Celia Lovsky) fled to the United States in 1933.  Kaaren Verne left Germany in 1938, also to get away from the Nazis (Verne and Lorre would marry four years after this film, after divorcing their respective spouses).  Veidt, who donated huge sums of money to the British war effort, especially seemed to relish the chance to make the Nazis look bad.  He is a marvelous actor, and it is a shame that his death of a heart attack in 1943 precluded his return to meatier roles. 

The advertisements for the film make sure to emphasize that Bogart's 'Gloves' is a gangster.  Take a look at the poster above.  "The underworld's top trigger-guy..." That's 'Gloves'.  Except that the film clearly tries to make him less a gangster and more a businessman. Sure, he orders all the local restaurants to only purchase cheesecake from Papa Miller (a cheesecake protection racket!), and he has a gun.  But he is a nice guy who loves his mother.  The script really wants to de-emphasize the shadiness of 'Gloves' line of work, so that the film can have a happy ending (the Code would not allow a real gangster to survive the ending, no matter how noble he was).  But it's amusing that Warner Brothers is really trying to have their cheesecake and eat it too!

All Through the Night is obviously set in New York City.  But as natives, we were very amused by the film's geography.  The warehouse which 'Gloves' and crew go to investigate is on 733 E. 61st Street, which would be in the middle of the East River.  The art gallery is attached to it (around the corner, we are told), but later on we are told that the gallery is 3 blocks from 5th Avenue.  Huh?  If the warehouse is floating in the center of the East River, that's about 10 blocks from 5th Avenue. 

This film was yet another role that Bogart got because George Raft wasn't interested. (Raft also refused to do The Maltese Falcon and High Sierra).  Olivia de Havilland was at one point listed for the role of Leda.  This TCM article discusses how Gleason and Silver got into the film. Though no characters were in the original script for the actors, Jack Warner told Vincent Sherman to find them parts.  So he did!

We end our discussion for this week with a trailer featuring our remarkable character actors and our star:

Barbara's Love Nest Revisited

As promised, we again return to Illicit, which we've reviewed on two separate occasions (to read those, please visit my reviews from last November - when I saw it in a theatre - and in January of 2013.)  This time, we talked about the film in comparison to Ex-Lady, a remake of this 1931 film.

The plots are very similar; a young woman, deeply in love with a young man, disdains marriage, but is finally convinced to wed the man, and finds her prophesy of unhappiness is coming true.  In both films, we have past lovers who interfere with the marriage.  But there are substantial differences, and those changes mpact the remake.

Illicit makes quick reference to Anne Vincent (Stanwyck)'s reasons for disliking marriage - her parents were divorced.  The only other parental figure we meet is Dick's father, who is a good and kind man.  No spouse is ever mentioned for Mr. Ives, Sr.  As a result, Anne's reluctance to wed is rather unspecific.  Ex-Lady, however, gives us a clearer picture of Helen Bauer (Bette Davis)'s abhorrence to marriage.  In one brief scene, we are shown the horrible marital example Helen has lived with her entire life - her domineering father, and her passive, obviously abused, mother.  Given a graphic example of Helen's family relationship, it's little wonder she despises marriage.  Also, unlike Anne, Helen is extremely career-focused and has a marketable skill.  We have to assume that Anne is independently wealthy - we never actually see her doing anything. 

On the other hand, the reason for the couple's separation is much clearer in Illicit.  Dick and Anne are never with one another. They are always partying, and the intrusion of their exes is much more evident.  Another big factor is Dick's obvious lack of a career or of any kind of ambition (other than carousing).  In Ex-Lady, Don's jealousy of Helen's more successful career seems to starts the downward spiral (though Don was aware of her work ethic before their marriage). 

While Ex-Lady is 12 minutes shorter, there is more depth to the characters.  We never felt that we got enough screen time or development of Ricardo Cortez' Price in Illicit.   Monroe Owsley, however, gets much more of a chance to flesh out the "other man, " Nick, who he portrays as a total swine; he's oily and rather revolting.  When Ricardo Cortez plays the same character, you don't like him, but he's not quite as slimy, though he should be.

All in all, we love Stanwyck, we're not keen on Raymond, but Ex-Lady came out with a slightly higher thumbs up from the group.  That extra bit of character development, and the strengthening of the lead female role made the film a lot more appealing.  Here's a scene from Illicit. 

Bette's Love Nest

In our continuing search for interesting pre-code films, we found Ex-Lady (1933) starring Bette Davis.  Ex-Lady is a remake of Illicit (1931), starring Barbara Stanwyck, which we discussed last year.  That the two were related was a nice surprise (thanks, Robert Osborne for the information).

Helen Bauer (Bette Davis) is in love with Don Peterson (Don Peterson); their affair is quite open, much to the disgust of Helen's father (Alphonse Ethier), who effectively disowns her.  Though Helen is convinced that marriage destroys love, Don convinces her that their marriage will work.  However, as Helen's reputation as a  commercial illustrator grows, and Don begins to have problems within their business, the couple's relationship begins to strain.  The intrusion of Nick Malvyn (Monroe Owsley) and Iris Van Hugh (Claire Dodd), former lovers of the Helen and Don, put more pressure on an already threatened marriage.

Davis' Helen is bright and ambitious.  She works for a living, and is good at what she does. Helen doesn't want children, she enjoys working, and she enjoys her freedoms.  Davis imbues Helen with an independence the pervades every scene.  As discussed in this TCM article, this was Davis' first headlining role. She would make her big breakthrough a year later in The Petrified Forest. 

Early in the film, we get a telling image of Helen's youth - a cold, authoritarian father and a passive, downtrodden mother (Bodil Rosing).  With that one scene, we begin to understand Helen's aversion to marriage, and her determination to not become the passive target of male domination.  It's also interesting that the parents are clearly immigrants, setting up a comparison between the Old and New World morals.  It also floats in a negative picture of European culture, in an era of increasing American isolationism. 

In contrast to Helen, Gene Raymond's Don is not exactly the brightest bulb in the pack.   He doesn't seem to know how to run a business - he and Helen go on vacation, but he doesn't leave proper instructions for his staff, and ends up losing accounts.  Helen, on the other hand, who works with Don, gains business, making Don petulant and resentful. 

We are increasingly impressed with Monroe Owsley.  He again plays a total rotter; he makes the character of Nick oily and rather revolting.  And even though this is a relatively short film (67 minutes), he manages to flesh out the character quite a bit. We discussed him at some detail when we looked at Ten Cents a Dance, and refer you there for more information on the brief career of this interesting actor.

In a New York Times review, we were presented with very negative comments on Davis' lingerie (the costuming was by Orry-Kelly) but positive remarks on the film's screenplay.  We rather liked the costuming and sets (by Jack Okey), and refer you to the scene below for a quick glimpse into the film.  Next week, we'll take a comparison look at Illicit. 

Bette Elopes

After Geoffrey Sherwood (Ian Hunter) is jilted by Valentine French (Katharine Alexander), Geoff goes on a bender, and shows up, quite drunk, outside of the church where Valentine is marrying the wealthy John Marland (Colin Clive).  Two police officers are about to arrest Geoff when Miriam Brady (Bette Davis) steps in and hurries Geoff to a restaurant to cool down and sober up.  When Geoff's friends (Hugh Brown and Tony Hewlitt, played by John Eldredge and Phillip Reed) suggest that Miriam can perhaps stay with him and keep him away from the wedding festivities, she agrees to remain with for a few hours.  However, by evening's end, she has become somewhat tipsy and ends up married to Geoff.  Though Miriam is ready to get an immediate divorce, Geoff suggests that marriage might be good for the two of them, and they decide to give it a go.  But, as Geoff's new business begins to become successful, and Valentine gets bored with her husband, the marriage is threatened. 

Thus begins The Girl from 10th Avenue (1935).  This is a very tightly scripted piece.  There's not a lot of fluff, and with a running time of 69 minutes, the story moves quickly from one scene to another. It's an excellent cast, with Davis at her most appealing as the down-to-Earth Miriam.  A working girl in the best sense of the word, Miriam has lost her job sewing labels into clothing.  Her education is fairly limited, but she is happy to learn from her upper-crust husband.  Eager as she is to please Geoff, however, she never loses her moral compass.  In that sense, she is reminiscent of  Madalaine in recently discussed Child of Manhattan. Bette Davis is able to imbue her with a aura of capability and integrity that makes Miriam a strong and attractive character.

We were sorry not to have seen more of Colin Clive, who is wasted really in the role of John Marland.  He only gets a few scenes, and John is a fairly passive role; he is constantly manipulated by his wife, and seems uninterested in anything requires effort.  Regardless, we wanted to see more of him, and see the character better fleshed out.  Clive is probably best known today for his title role in Frankenstein (he was the Dr., NOT the monster!!), but he also played Rochester in the 1934 Jane Eyre and was in the cast of Clive of India, which was the story of one of his own ancestors (no, he didn't play the historical Clive).   Colin Clive started his career on the London stage, and was cast as a replacement for Laurence Olivier in Journey's End, a role he reprised in the film version (with director James Whale, who would later cast him in Frankenstein).  His career was short - he died in 1937, at age 37 from pneumonia, exacerbated by his severe alcoholism.  His wife did not come to the funeral.

The part of  Valentine is ably played by Katharine Alexander.  We've seen her before in the film In Name Only as Carole Lombard's sister, Laura, and as Claude Rains' favorite nurse in Now Voyager.  She gives Valentine a supercilious air, which is effective in playing up the differences in upbringing between her and Miriam.  It also makes her eminently unlikeable.  Thus, it's hard to envision why two men are so passionate about her.  She's cold, and cruel.  She's also no beauty (though she does have a phenomenal wardrobe).  Alexander had a interesting end to her career.  As film roles began to diminish, she went to London, where she appeared in the Paul Muni production of Death of a Salesman, playing Linda Loman.   Her reviews were outstanding, so Alexander decided to go out on a high note, and retired after  her success there. She died in 1981, at the age of 83, 

Finally, there is my personal favorite character in the film, Mrs. Martin, as played by the always wonderful Alison Skipworth (Mrs. Martin).  We are familiar with her from previously viewed films, such as Devotion and The Gorgeous Hussy.   In this film, she plays a former showgirl (who "almost" prevented the birth of Tony Hewlitt.  Seems his father proposed to her).  She owns the building in which Miriam has an apartment, and becomes a second-mother and tutor to the girl.  Though Mrs. Martin is, as we learn, quite sassy, she is tactful as she tries to instruct Miriam in correct grammar and behavior.  But when Marian finally confronts Valentine in a restaurant, it is Mrs. Martin that we watch.  Her enjoyment of the situation is very funny. 

We leave you with a reference to an excellent article from TCM, the film's trailer, and brief bit of trivia about the title.  Why is Miriam from 10th Avenue? Well, in 1935, the part of 10th Avenue on which she lived was called "Hell's Kitchen", and was best known for the its poor, working-class - and tough - inhabitants.  

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.