Larry and Gloria Have an Understanding

Perfect Understanding (1933) stars Gloria Swanson as Judy Rogers and Laurence Olivier as her fiance, Nick Randall.  Judy and Nick are very much in love, but Judy is afraid of marriage, having seen several bad ones among her friends.  Nick assures her that their marriage will be different, and the two agree to sign a contract, agreeing that they will remain independent people after marriage, and will not allow jealousy to enter their lives.  But marriage isn't perfect, and the outside world intrudes into their fool's paradise.

The film is very reminiscent of both Cynara and Illicit: we again visit the woman who is fearful of marriage, and the man who ends up straying within the marriage.  However, this film takes those movies a step further.  The relationship between Judy and Nick is complicated when Nick suspects Judy of straying, even though he has already confessed his affair to his wife.  The double standard, that the man thinks it is okay for him to stray, but if his wife does, he is horrified, is the crux of this film.

To a greater degree, Gloria Swanson's real life story is far more interesting than the character she plays here.  Judy is rather banal; Swanson was not.  Married six times, she was also reported to have indulged in a number of affairs, both between and during her marriages.  In her autobiography, she claimed the great love of her life to have been Herbert Marshall; she was with him for over three years, but finally gave up when she realized he wasn't interested in divorcing his wife (Edna Best) for her.  But her most notorious assignation was with Joseph Patrick Kennedy.  He produced Queen Kelly for her (it was a flop).  Interestingly, Swanson named the son she adopted in 1923 Joseph Patrick.  A coincidence? Perhaps...  Swanson had actually invested money in this film; and her husband du jour (Michael Farmer) plays the part of George. Swanson does get some stunning clothing: gowns were by Ann Morgan and René Hubert (who was uncredited). But it is hard to see why she felt so strongly about this film.

Thankfully, Laurence Olivier has lost the makeup man that he used the year before in Westward Passage, and Nick isn't the cad he'd played in the earlier film.  However, Nick is a bit of an idiot.  Bad enough he has an affair, but to go running to his wife with news of his indiscretion is not only stupid, it's unconscionable.  He knows Judy doubts the viability of marriage, so his confession just throws her even further into the fear that any continuing relationship with a single person is undoable.  So, while the film was interesting in the beginning, it eventually gets bogged down, primarily because Nick is so totally dense.   

Had the film had less of a double standard, and been more understanding of it's fragile leading lady, it would have been far better. We'll leave you with a trailer:

Ona's Hot

One of the more unusual things about The Hot Heiress (1931) is the opening - a sweet little ditty sung by a bunch of construction workers entitled "Nobody Loves a Riveter But His Mother."  The opening makes you think that the movie is a musical; though it has a few songs, it really isn't.  It's a sweet albeit rather tame pre-code movie about our titular heiress' love for an ordinary working guy, who happens to be a riveter.  The film stars Ben Lyon as Hap Harrigan, our working stiff and Ona Munson as  Juliette "Julie" Hunter, the heiress.  It also features Walter Pidgeon as Clay, the man Julie's parents (Homes Herbert and Nella Walker) actually want her to marry. And in a very small part, Thelma Todd as Lola, one of Julie's friends.

The plot is rather simple - Hap sees Julie sleeping in the morning while he is working (he's up high, and can see into the open window.  A little pre-code deshabille in the scene!).  Distracted, he misses a rivet as it is tossed to him; it lands on the floor of Julie's bedroom, starting a fire.  Hap and pal Tom Dugan (Bill Dugan) climb in to put out the fire, and Julie immediately falls for her hero.  The only problem? Her family, who wants her to marry longtime friend, Clay.

Much is made in the film of the class differences between Julie and Hap.  Even their vocabulary is different, with Hap, Tom and Margie very oriented to slang, whereas Julie and Clay speak far more precisely.  This speech difference is emphasized in the scenes in which Hap, Tom and Margie visit Julie's family home for a weekend outing.  It can be a bit disconcerting to the modern ear, but it clearly establishes the differences in the societies, and points out the snobbishness of the "upper" classes.  This is not a film that is sympathetic towards the rich.  Julie is the exception because she treats everyone equally.  In fact, it often seems that she is trying to escape the burdens of her family's wealth - she is not interested in the life they have mapped out for her.

The songs in the film were written by Richard Rogers and Lorenz Hart. As the film didn't do particularly well, the duo was not eager to continue in the film industry, negotiated an end to their contract, and headed back to Broadway, where they would write such notable musicals as Pal Joey, Jumbo, and Babes in Arms (all of which would eventually be made into films). This TCM article goes into more detail on their departure from Hollywood.  And while this is perhaps not their best work, we enjoyed the song "Nobody but You" in particular.  The YouTube video below features the first scene with the song.  You also get nice views of our two couples: Juliette and Hap, and Tom and Margie:
It was quite enjoyable to see Walter Pidgeon in a supporting role, as well as a role in which he is rather a heel.  Though never stated, it sometimes seemed that Clay might only be interested in Julie for her money.  He associates with the right circles, and nothing is ever said, but could his family have lost their fortune in the Depression?  Regardless, Clay doesn't seem to love her; the marriage is one that he just assumes will happen.  Her rejection seems more of an inconvenience to him than anything else.

At first glance, we did not recognize Ona Munson as the actress who would go on to play Belle Watling in Gone With the Wind.  She's lovely here - cute and pert, with a sweet singing voice.  Munson had a respectable career, appearing in 20 films and three television episodes between 1928 and 1953, and 8 Broadway plays, beginning in 1919.  Her life, however, was a complicated one.  She married three times, but was also rumored to have had affairs with Dorothy Arzner, Marlene Dietrich. and Alla Nazimova.  This brief article from Film Comment provides more detail.  She committed suicide at age 51, after a long illness. 

Inez Courtney who played Margie, was perhaps our favorite character.  Margie is someone who, despite her lower class upbringing, fits in anywhere.  Julie's affection for her is transparent, and, when she is a guest at the Hunter home, it is Margie who has all the male guest crowded around her, and they all obviously are enjoying her visit. Courtney also started our on Broadway - she played Babe in the original staging of Good News, among other things. Between 1930 and 1940, she made 58 film appearances.  At the end of her contract, however, she decided to retire and move to Rome with her husband, an Italian nobleman.  (She opted to not use her title of Marchessa)  She died in 1975, aged 67, in Neptune, New Jersey.

Nella Walker, who plays Julie's mother, seemed to have been playing mothers and society matrons from the time she was young. From 1929 to 1954, she appeared in 117 films, primarily in supporting parts.  Included in her list of excellent films is Stella Dallas, in which she was the future mother-in-law of Laurel Dallas; and In Name Only, as Cary Grant's mother.  Her final film would have her playing the mother to Humphrey Bogart and William Holden in Sabrina (she was 13 older than her senior "son", Bogart).  At the end of the filming of Sabrina, she decided to retire She died in 1971

We'll leave you with a trailer from the film.  As you can see, the noise created by construction has not changed very much in 85 years.  And for New York City people like us, the vision of a construction site right next to our bedroom window is nothing new either:

Barbara Pines

Barbara Stanwyck has a relatively small part in Executive Suite (1954).  She plays Julia O. Tredway, the daughter of the late head of the Tredway Corporation, a respected furniture manufacturer, now headed by Avery Bullard (voiced, but unseen, by Raoul Freeman).  However, Julia and her love for Bullard are not the focus of the film; Executive Suite is the story of a critical moment in the history of the Tredway Corporation, as the company's various executives battle for control of the firm after the death of Bullard.

The film marks a reunion for Stanwyck and William Holden (McDonald "Don" Walling).  Stanwyck was the star of Golden Boy (1939), and Holden was a newbie when he appeared in the title role.  As the film rushes came in, Harry Cohn made it clear that was not satisfied with Holden's performance, and was going to replace him.  Stanwyck defended him, and worked with him to improve his performance (Check out this TCM article for that story and others).  Golden Boy became Holden's breakthrough role.  Stanwyck and Holden remained friends, and he tried for years to convince the Academy to present her with an Honorary Oscar for her body of work.  Ultimately, he did succeed, but by the time she received the award, he had died.  In this video, you can will see Holden's praise of Stanwyck at the 1977 Oscars, and her moving acceptance speech in 1983 as she expresses her affection for her "Golden Boy".
The film actually belongs to Holden's Don Walling, the head of Tredway's research and development arm, and on his evolution into becoming a leader.  Disillusioned by his mentor, Bullard, but nevertheless grieved by his death, Don becomes convinced that only he among the corporate vice presidents can keep Tredway afloat.  His passion for a quality product and for the continued stability of the company put him at odds with other members of the board of directors.  Holden gives Don the necessary sincerity and gravitas needed to lead a major corporation.  He also demonstrates a devotion to his wife Mary Blemond Walling (June Allyson) and son Mike (Tim Considine). While some of his colleagues consider him too young to lead a company, the film focuses on his growth into the new position.

Also remarkable is Fredric March as Loren Phineas Shaw, the chief financial officer for the company.  Shaw's economies have put him at odds with Don, having advocated for and won approval of a cheap brand of furniture that, while enhancing the company's coffers, proves an embarrassment to the firm's employees and to many members of the board. March gives Shaw a number of small tics that quickly define his character for the viewer - watch how he constantly wipes his hands.  His Shaw is a character you cannot like, and March is not afraid to make him, while not quite a villain, at the very least an unattractive individual.

A greater portion of the film's $1.25 million budget went to actors' salaries, and to good effect, because each actor gives a distinct three-dimensionality to the characters.  Though only in about 3 scenes, Shelley Winters is excellent as Eva Bardeman, the secretary and mistress of Josiah Walter Dudley (Paul Douglas). Walter Pidgeon's Frederick Y. Alderson gives us a man at the end of his career, who must face the fact that he will never rise to the heights of power that he always hoped was his future. But especially worth noting is the performance of Nina Foch as Bullard's executive secretary, Erica Martin.  Foch was nominated for an Oscar for her brief, but powerful performance as a woman who is privy to her late employer's secrets, but who is the soul of discretion.  In the clip below, Foch describes her conversations with the film's producer John Houseman and director, Robert Wise, as they took a tiny, weak part and made it into the small gem that you see today. To make Erica a real person, Foch and Wise created a backstory for her:
The film opens with point-of-view camera work.  Since we are seeing the world through the eyes of Avery Bullard, his sudden death is quite shocking.  As a result, we never actually see Bullard, not even a photo of him.  This allows the audience to create their own picture of him, based on the various portraits that his colleagues paint.

Also very interesting is the credit role.  We are all used to credits which show brief names of the characters' next to that of the actors, but Executive Suite gives us the characters full names - names that were not used within the film.  We learn that Don Walling's name is actually MacDonald, and that his wife's maiden name is Blemond.   Again, the character's begin to have a life outside the frame of the story - they have a past.  They will have a future.

We were unfamiliar with Lucille Knoch, who the end credits inform us was Mrs. George Nyle Caswell (the wife of Louis Calhern's manipulative George Caswell - another masterful character creation), not his mistress, as we all had assumed.  Ms. Knoch quite good in this part.   She had a relatively short career - this was possibly the largest role she ever had.  She seems to have stopped acting after 1957; she died in 1990.

Interestingly, the film did have a future, of sorts.   It was made into a TV show from September 1976 through February 1977.  It lasted for only 18 episodes, which is not surprising, considering the new show's competition was Monday Night Football, The Rockford Files, and the NBC Movie of the Week.   Given that competition, it's shocking that it made it past the first month.   Only the Don and Helen Walling characters continued in the TV show - they were played by Mitchell Ryan and Sharon Acker.  Even the name of the company was changed in the prime-time soap opera.  It was now the Cardway Corporation.  You can see a advertisement for the show on YouTube.

We'll leave you with a trailer from the film - an introduction to all the characters, including Stanwyck's Julia Tredway:

Barbara Has Breakfast

Our film this week in a romance from 1937.  Breakfast for Two features Herbert Marshall as Jonathan Blair, a ne'er-do-well playboy who has spent his adult life drinking, carousing, and ignoring the family business, the Blair Steamship Company of New York (except of course, for the income that it brings him).  On one of his drunken jaunts, he meets Valentine Ransome (Barbara Stanwyck).  Valentine is from a wealthy family, and is on a visit to NYC from Texas.  It doesn't take her long to decide that Jonathan is the man for her.  But Valentine is not willing to take him on as is, so she decides to rehabilitate him: force him to take responsibility for the steamship line (and its many employees) and, in the bargain, break up his affair with Carol Wallace (Glenda Farrell), a gold-digging actress who only serves to aid and abet his bad behavior.  With the cooperation of Jonathan's valet, Butch (Eric Blore), Valentine begins her campaign to turn a boy into a man.

Stanwyck is delightful as Valentine.  She's tough and smart; much smarter, in fact, than Jonathan deserves.  We spent a good portion of the movie wondering just WHAT Valentine sees in Jonathan.  Part of the problem for that reaction rests on Herbert Marshall.  Put in contrast to the dynamic Stanwyck, Marshall is comes off as rather passive.  Forces revolve around him and he weakly responds.  He and Stanwyck really have no chemistry together; he is already a rather bland actor (which works beautifully in films such as The Little Foxes and The Enchanted Cottage), but here, he just is a nonentity.  

Though this was a film role Ms. Stanwyck was enthusiastic about getting (she found the light comedy a relief after the intensity of Stella Dallas), after this, she began turning down parts from RKO.  During her suspensions, she got work on the radio, including several roles on the Lux Radio Theatre (These Three, Dark Victory, and Morning Glory are a few examples).

Herbert Marshall had an interesting and lengthy career.  He began in film during the silent era (his first film was in 1927 - Mumsie) , but already had an extensive stage resume, appearing in his first play in 1911 (Lady Ursula).  He served in the army during World War I (in a regiment that also included Basil Rathbone, Ronald Colman, Cedric Hardwick, and Claude Rains).  Shot by a sniper in the knee, his leg was eventually amputated just below the hip.  He determined to return to acting -  his limp was barely noticeable, in spite of being in some pain, both from phantom limb syndrome and from the pressure of the prosthetic itself.  Interestingly, his second silent film (now in Hollywood) was in The Letter, as the murdered lover Geoffrey Hammond.  He segued to the role of the husband, Robert, in the Bette Davis remake.  Mr. Marshall continued acting in films and on television until the year before his death.  He died, age 75, in 1966 of heart failure.

We were also amused by Donald Meek as the Justice of the peace who cannot pronounce the name Jonathan (it comes out as Joe-Nathan).  Each time Jonathan corrects him, he waggles his finger and proceeds to mis-pronounce the name yet again.  But the funniest one in the movie is, without doubt, Eric Blore.  His Butch is loyal to his boss, but sick and tired of Jonathan's laissez-faire attitude towards life.  Blore plays Butch as almost fatherly towards this man he sees as "his charge".  And while Jonathan's infantile behavior might once have been amusing, Butch now sees it is time for him to grow up and assume some responsibility.

Totally wasted is Glenda Farrell.  She's merely a blonde bimbo who has little to do but shriek and look vexed.  She has little dialogue, and isn't given even the merest chance to show what she can do.  Too bad.  She could have been a better foil for Stanwyck.

The film's sets are gorgeous and ornate, reflective of the Jonathan's opulent lifestyle.  Originally titled A Love Like That, it was filmed in sequence.  See this TCM article for more background information.

The window washer scene, which is a particularly funny routine, was based on a vaudeville routine that the director (Alfred Santell) saw years earlier in the The Gus Edwards Kids Act,  Edwards was a vaudeville staple, but was also a composer, and was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame. 

We leave you with a delightful scene between Marshall and Farrell. We'll be back soon with more Stanwyck.

Gene Dances in the Rain

In celebration of National Classic Movie Day our contribution to the blogathon being hosted by the Classic Film and TV Cafe is the magnificent Singin' in the Rain (1952).  We had the pleasure of seeing it recently at the Strathmore Music Center, with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra accompanying the film.  Computer technology, it seems, allows them to strip the music, but leave all the voices in place - thus, Gene and Donald and Debbie get to sing with a magnificent symphony orchestra providing support. 

Singin' in the Rain is the story of Don Lockwood (Gene Kelly), a silent movie star who is faced with the loss of his career as the sound era begins.  He and his best friend Cosmo Brown (Donald O'Connor) hatch a plan - to take the horrid sound melodrama that their studio is about to release and turn it into a musical. The problem? Lina Lamont (Jean Hagen), Don's addle-pated co-star, who has a voice like air raid siren.  So, they enlist the help of Don's great love, Kathy Selden (Debbie Reynolds) to supply Lamont's singing and speaking voice for this one picture.

With the exception of "Moses Supposes" and "Fit as a Fiddle" ("Make 'Em Laugh" contains the music of "Be a Clown", with new lyrics), all of the songs in Singin' in the Rain are recycled from other films (this article will give you a rundown of where the songs first appeared).  And the story, in some senses, hearkens back to early Rooney-Garland "let's put on a show" musical comedies.  Yet, Singin' in the Rain is unique and brilliant, and possibly the greatest musical ever made - certainly the American Film Institute places it highly.  On their list of the 100 Best Love Stories, it placed 16.  On their list of the100 Best Movies, it placed 5th.  It was number in the list of the 100 Best Songs, and in the list of the 100 Best Musicals, it wins as number 1!  There are many reasons why, not the least of which is an outstanding cast, and dance numbers beyond parallel.

Gene Kelly both stars in and co-directs (with Stanley Donen) the film.   His masterful dancing is especially evident in the "Broadway Ballet" (his partner in that number is the glorious Cyd Charisse), and in the even more famous title song routine.  There is a special joy in the latter number that is rarely scene in film.  Don's jubilance in his newly found love is contagious.  It's impossible to watch the him dance through a heavy rain without wanting to join him.

In her first major role, Debbie Reynolds is lovely.  She is a combination of innocence and spunk that only she is able to portray.  She learned to dance on the set; mostly taught by Gene Kelly, but also by Fred Astaire, who was visiting the set one day.  This video from AFI has Reynolds describing the encounter.

Donald O'Connor is masterful in the role of Cosmo.  As impressive a dancer as Gene Kelly is, it is next to impossible to NOT watch O'Connor when they dance together.  It's also hard to understand why O'Connor is not up there with Kelly and Astaire in the oft-named great dancers.  He could do it all - tap, novelty, ballroom; was an impressive actor, and an excellent choreographer.  In this tribute written by Roger Ebert at the time of O'Connor's death,  the genesis of the "Make 'Em Laugh" number is discussed.  O'Connor invented the dance due to an injury that forced Kelly to pass the reigns to him - and gave him some extra time to do it.  He would go on to receive a well-deserved Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Musical or Comedy.     

Which brings us to the true shining light of Singin' in the Rain, the always wonderful Jean Hagen.  Her Lina Lamont is a work of genius - vain, selfish, quite dense, but not ever stupid, Lina is a character you can't like, but adore anyway.  Like my fellow blogger at A Person in the Dark, I'm appalled that she was snubbed for a well-deserved Oscar (and didn't even get a Golden Globe nomination!)  But we can still revel in her artistry, and laugh at her dialog, delivered in a voice that is far from her own.  When you watch the film, pay close attention to the dialogue in the reworked sound version of  "The Dancing Cavalier".  It was decided by the powers-that-be at MGM, that Debbie Reynolds voice wasn't quite the thing for the dialogue, so they went back to the source - Jean Hagen spoke for herself, without the shrill LaMont cadence.  The section of notes from the AFI Movie Page provides a wealth of backstory on the film, as do these TCM articles.

The film opened on March 27, 1952 at Radio City Music Hall, hallmarking it as a prestige film (the opening also featured the Rockettes in "The Glory of Easter", a pageant second only to their Christmas show).  The New York Times review was not exactly an enthusiastic "thumbs-up".  Bosley Crowther, however, has been proven wrong by history, and we still have this film to watch (repeatedly, in my case).  I'll leave you with Ms. LaMont being wired for sound - a wonderful moment with a great actress, and a bit of film history to boot.


This post is part of the My Favorite Classic Movie Blogathon in celebration of National Classic Movie Day (May 16th). Click here to view the schedule listing all the great posts in this blogathon.

Barbara is Back with Fred

Every actor has that little known film that you think should be more highly regarded: There's Always Tomorrow (1956) is one of Barbara Stanwyck's.  In it, she plays Norma Miller Vale, a successful fashion designer who decides to drop in on an old friend, Clifford Groves (Fred MacMurray) while vising Los Angeles on business.  Norma worked for Cliff over 20 years before, when he was a beginning toymaker and she was the designer for his doll clothing.  In the intervening time, he has become a successful businessman with his own toy manufacturing business.  He has a wife, Marion (Joan Bennett) and three children: college man Vinnie (William Reynolds), high-school drama queen Ellen (Gigi Perreau) and middle-school ballerina Frances (Judy Nugent).  Despite his success and a marriage that seems a happy one, Cliff is desperately unhappy - he is virtually ignored by his children, and his wife shows little understanding for his need to connect with her.  So, when Norma shows up on his doorstep, their former friendship rekindles, but into something much deeper.

MacMurray is the focus of most of the film's action.  He shows us a man desperate for a closer relationship with his wife and children, but always ignored by a family that is just too busy for him.  He seemingly has few friends - when his wife is unable to accompany him to the theatre, he has no one to call. The reappearance of Norma gives him a rope to grasp - someone to talk to, something he has not had for a long time.  MacMurray is able to clearly show the conflict within Cliff - he truly loves his wife, but he wants her to be a companion again, not just a mother.

Which brings us to Joan Bennett.  Her Marion is someone who has created an image of herself and her life that is entirely about her children.  She no longer views herself as Cliff's wife - he is secondary to her self-image.  In one scene, Norma shows Marion a stunning evening gown that she believes will be attractive to Cliff.  Marion dismisses it as "too young" for her; of course, it is gorgeous on Ms. Bennett, who has an amazing figure.  But Marion sees herself as old, and certainly not in need of a gown that would be sexually appealing to her husband.

In one scene, Marion runs down the awfully BUSY day she is going to have.  Among her duties - return books to the library, do the marketing.  As working women, we shook our heads in despair - we ran all her errands (minus bringing the youngest child to school) AND hold full time jobs.  And Marion has a housekeeper (Jane Darwell as Mrs. Rogers) - I'm sure it was rather hard for most film audiences to muster any sympathy for this rather privileged woman.

The children are the crux of the movie.  They are rude, selfish, and spoiled.  When their parents are speaking alone in their bedroom, the children walk in unannounced and interrupt.  They are rude to a guest in their parents' home.  Their father is treated by them only as a source of money.  Much of their behavior devolves back to Marion, who doesn't even tell her husband about his youngest daughter's ballet recital.  When Norma finally tells off the older two, you want to cheer.

Stanwyck is, as always, magnificent.  Norma loved Cliff deeply when they were young; it's something she has not really gotten over.  But neither of them is looking for a physical relationship.  They are seeking friendship; but because of Cliff's loneliness, the friendship begins to deepen for both of them.  Stanwyck treads a careful path - make Norma likeable as "the other woman".

To counterbalance the romance of Cliff and Norma, we have the beginning of young love - that of Vinnie and his fiancee Ann (Pat Crowley).  William Reynolds gives us a Vinnie that is a brat - a young man who is still, as Ann tells him, a little boy.  Pat Crowley is wonderful as Ann - she is a grown-up - the only one of the young people who see's Cliff's anguish, and the only one who knows he is not capable of deception.  We looked forward to her scenes; Ann is a great character.
This was not Reynolds first experience with Sirk - he had already appeared as Jane Wyman's selfish son in All That Heaven Allows.  He would go on to a career in television in The F.B.I.  Following that, he left acting to work as a businessman.  The young actresses who played his sisters also eventually left acting.  Gigi Perreau only recently made a few movies, after leaving acting in the 1970s; Judy Nugent (who also worked with Sirk in Magnificent Obsession) stopped acting in the 1962 - shortly after marrying actor Buck Taylor (they divorced in 1983).

This is an excellent movie, with a mature examination of infidelity.  Directed by Douglas Sirk, it is not surprising that the characters are adults.  He had already directed All That Heaven Allows (1955), another film that concentrates on a mature woman.  Our couple are not kids in first love - they are  middle-aged, with a host of adult issues that must be faced.  Interestingly, the film was not all that well received when it was released, as this New York Times review demonstrates.  That's unfortunate, especially now, when we so rarely see films about grown-ups.  Yes, the story is rather ordinary, but the acting and the actors make it very special.  This TCM article is much more appreciative of the subtleties of the narrative and of Sirk's storytelling.  We'll leave you with a trailer from the film:

Barbara Gives Up Everything

Barbara Stanwyck desperately wanted to play Stella Dallas (1937), despite the fact it that it would be the hardest part she had played up til that point.  In Victoria Wilson's epic biography of Stanwyck, A Life of Barbara Stanwyck: Steel-True 1907-1940, the author goes into some detail on Stanwyck's remarkable performance as Stella Martin Dallas and Stanwyck's efforts to get the job.  Stella is a working class girl, who lives in the small factory town of Millhampton, Massachusetts.  She is attracted to the new man in town, Stephen Dallas (John Boles), the son of a wealthy family.  His money lost, his father dead, Stephen has escaped to Millhampton, to take a job and try to put his life back together.  In doing so, he has abandoned his fiancée, Helen (Barbara O'Neil).  Stella and Stephen date, eventually marrying.  At first, she says she is eager to become like him, but after a year of trying to live his life, she wants more fun, with the people she understands.  However, the Dallases now have a little girl, Laurel (who will grow up to be Anne Shirley), and though Stella and Stephen bicker constantly, they agree on one thing - Laurel is the center of their world.

It's interesting that the studio originally wanted Ruth Chatterton for the part, and it is not unlikely casting - she had done a similar role in Frisco Jenny.  But Stanwyck IS Stella Dallas.  She takes a woman who could become unappealing and ridiculous and creates a character with appeal and sympathy.  Her Stella is a lonely woman, stuck between two worlds, unable to find her place in either of them. Her only pleasure is her child, for whom she will devote her life, and for whom she wants the best things in life - the life that ultimately only Laurel's father can give her.

 

Also excellent is Anne Shirley as Laurel.  Shirley gives us a portrait of a girl who dearly loves her mother, and while she doesn't have her mother's same way of dressing, she sees nothing odd about this woman who is a fashion nightmare.  It isn't until she hears others ridiculing her mother that she realizes how outlandish her mother appears.  Laurel's desire to whisk her mother away from these people is a mix of embarrassment and the desire to protect Stella from hurt.  Even when Laurel believes that her mother doesn't want her around, there is still a deep love on the child's part.  In her heart, she knows that Stella will never reject her.  Interestingly, the studio originally wanted Bonita Granville for the role, but she was deemed too young for the older Stella. 

Another impressive performance is that of Barbara O'Neil; her character is so idealized - the perfect society woman, perfect spouse, perfect mother - that it would be easy to just make her a caricature, but O'Neil carefully makes Helen genuine and sympathetic.  The scene between her and Stanwyck is magnificent, each accomplishing communication with their eyes and body that hearkens back to the silent era, but still retains the subtlety of the conversation.  It's a truly heartbreaking scene.

We can't forget the men - especially John Boles, who is also not afraid of making Stephen a bit unattractive.  Though Stephen tells Stella not to change, ultimately, that is what he is trying to force her to do.  And while we may not agree with Stella's wardrobe or attitudes, she is correct in her comment to him that SHE is the one who always has to change, not him.  And though this is not a pre-code film, there is the slightest implication that he is living with Helen while still married to Stella. 

Alan Hale as Ed Munn creates a character that is a companion to Stella, but clearly not a romantic interest.  Where Stella is over-the-top in her garb and attitudes, Ed is crude, foolish, and finally, a drunk (Stella, interestingly, never drinks).  We can't really like Ed - Hale doesn't let us, and with good reason - we need to understand why Stella will never be with him.  This TCM article comments briefly on Hale's outstanding performance.

Costumes for this film were by Omar Kiam, and he does a good job of defining the characters of Stella and Laurel through their dress.  The story was reprised by Ms. Stanwyck, Mr. Boles, Ms. Shirley, and Ms. O'Neil on the Lux Radio Theatre in October of 1937. 

I also wanted to bring to your attention this excellent salute of Stanwyck by Laura Dern, in which she comments that this is "one of the great performances of all time".  Be aware (if you've not seen the film before) that you WILL see the conclusion in this clip.  If you've seen the film, it will provide a reminder of how stunning Stanwyck is as Stella's story concludes.

We will leave you with the film's opening.  Next time, more Stanwyck! 

Peeping James

TCM Fathom Event recently aired the magnificent Rear Window (1954), and we were quite delighted to be able to attend.  Starring James Stewart as L. B. "Jeff" Jeffries and Grace Kelly as Lisa Carol Fremont, directed by Alfred Hitchcock, and with a supporting cast to die for, this is  unarguably a Hitchcock masterpiece.  For those unfamiliar with the plot, here's a brief rundown of the premise.  Jeff Jeffries, a highly regarded international photographer has been laid up for 5 weeks in a cast up to his hip, having broken his leg trying to get a photo of a race car in action (he got the picture).  During a hot New York summer (it's the 1950s - there's no in-home air-conditioning), with one week of immobility left (stuck in a walk-up apartment he's not left since his injury), Jeff is bored, so he stares out his window, peering into the lives of his neighbors.  He's got nicknames for all of them, and he imagines their life stories from his "rear window" view.  Then, one hot night, as he dozes in his wheelchair, he thinks he sees a murder.

Some years ago, I attended a class on Hitchcock's film.  The class was taught by Donald Spoto, author of many books about Hollywood, but most especially, the author of The Art of Alfred Hitchcock. One of the points he made was that, as Jeff looks into the windows of his neighbors, what he sees are alternate versions of his own life and that of Lisa, the woman he loves (but is determined NOT to marry).  He sees a pair of newlyweds, a satisfied older couple doting on a beloved dog, a couple who bicker constantly (with Raymond Burr as the husband, Lars Thorwald), a lonely middle-aged woman (Judith Evelyn as "Miss Lonely Hearts"), a young woman surrounded by suitors, and a composer (played by Ross Bagdasarian), who can't seem to get his work noticed.  Which life will Jeff get? We'll never know (hopefully not the Raymond Burr thread!), but Lisa has own ideas, and is a pretty determined lady!

I don't think there is a movie on earth that has Thelma Ritter (Stella) in it that is bad.  Her very presence moves the film up a notch, in my humble opinion.  Ritter's part was not in the original short story by Cornell Woolrich (neither was Grace Kelly's), and according to one of the TCM articles you'll find here, Ritter's part was enlarged after the initial script was completed to provide some humor and humanity to the part of Jeff.  The film needed, according to writer John Michael Hayes, some comedy to get the audience immediately engaged with the character.  He knew that Hitchcock had cast Ritter, and there is no better mouthpiece for the human condition than the phenomenal Thelma Ritter. 

And then there is the other lady in Jeff's life, the ever-glorious Grace Kelly.  A woman of jaw-dropping beauty, Hitchcock, perhaps more than any other director, was able to make her a woman of parts - beautiful, fashionable, smart, daring, passionate.  Her Lisa is unexpected - Jeff leads us to expect she is only a fashionplate - interested in clothing and nothing else.  And while her entrance - twirling around the room in a dress that I would give my eye-teeth for - seems to support that, it isn't long before we realize that Jeff is an idiot - as Stella told him - Lisa is a jewel beyond price.

 

Seeing Rear Window in a theatre is a treat beyond compare.  While it is good on a television, it's even more magnificent when you can see the framing the way Hitchcock meant it to be seen. Filmed in wide-screen and Technicolor, the movie still manages to convey the claustrophobic atmosphere that has become Jeff's life, as he goes from a boundless world, to a confined, one-room apartment.  It is a film you can see again and again, and each time see something new and exciting.

Grace Kelly's marvelous wardrobe was designed by Edith Head.  Every one of her dresses is glorious, but I'm going to leave you with a clip that contains my personal favorite dress.  Meet Lisa Carole Freemont!:

Barbara Wants an Inheritance

We return to the work of one of our favorite actresses, Barbara Stanwyck, in The Man With a Cloak (1951).  Ms. Stanwyck plays Lorna Bounty, a former actress who now serves as the housekeeper and mistress of M. Thevenet (Louis Calhern), a wealthy reprobate who is close to death.  Lorna and her associates  (Mrs. Flynn, played by Margaret Wycherly and Martin, played by Joe DeSantis) are impatiently waiting for Thevenet die, so they can lay claim to his fortune.  Unfortunately for them, the arrival of his grandson's fiancee, Madeline Minot (Leslie Caron) appears to be throwing their plans into a cocked hat.  So, when they try to prevent her from seeing the old man, Madeline seeks help from a stranger, Mr. Dupin (Joseph Cotten), a hard drinking reprobate, who thinks nothing of bilking the local tavern owner, Flaherty (Jim Backus) of his liquor. 

 

Barbara Stanwyck is just magnificent as Lorna Bounty.  She is gorgeous, sexy, and marvelously evil.  Her dislike of Thevenet shines from her eyes, yet she is like a cobra - her eyes draw you in, even as you realize she is going to bite you.  It's amazing that she was given second billing to Joseph Cotton, because, good as he is, SHE is the picture.  And her character is so much smarter than the others in the house.  It's hard not to admire Lorna, Stanwyck is that good.  This commentary from TCM doesn't agree with us.  They feel that she "doesn't quite succeed".  We beg to differ (caution - we're going to avoid revealing the ending, in case you've not seen the film.  The TCM article does have spoilers).

The costumes are by Walter Plunkett, and he does Ms. Stanwyck proud.  Her gowns are  lovely and lavish, appropriate for the way Lorna Bounty sees herself.  Plunkett was a gifted designer who worked in films such as Alice Adams, Adam's Rib, and a little movie called Gone With the Wind.  He worked steadily until his retirement in 1966; he died in 1982, aged 79. 

The Man With a Cloak was released only a few months after Leslie Caron's introduction to American film in An American in Paris. Ms. Caron does not dance here; she is quite effective as the innocent, thrown headlong into a world she does not understand.  Ms. Caron would continue her career, both during her years at MGM, and after, going from musicals to dramas and comedies.  She still continues working in film, has appeared on the Paris stage in Sondheim's A Little Night Music, and has written her autobiography, Thank Heaven.  For many years, she owned a bed and breakfast in Villeneuve-sur-Yonne.  She also has the distinction of having danced with Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, Mikhail Baryshnikov, and Rudolf Nureyev.  It's easy to class her only as a dancer, and forget that her dramatic work far outweighs her musical films.

Louis Calhern's performance as Thevenet is also spot-on.  He creates a character who is known to be disreputable, but Calhern is able to make him somewhat sympathetic.  A portion of Calhern's performance is silent, hearkening back to his beginnings in film, and his roots stand him in good stead.  A remarkable actor, with an exceptional career, he had already appeared in The Gorgeous Hussy, Frisco Jenny, and The Magnificent Yankee.  Still to come were wonderful performances in Executive Suite, Julius Caesar, and High Society - his final film.  He died in 1956 of a heart attack on the set of Teahouse of the August Moon.

Is this a great film? Probably not, but it is enjoyable, with a cast worth watching, and performances that are notable.  We leave you with a trailer from the film.  It is worth a look:

Ann's Apples

Eve Knew Her Apples (1945) tells the story of radio singer Eve Porter (Ann Miller).  Eve's managers have been pushing her hard; she's tired and she has finally put her foot down, demanding a three month vacation.  Her radio sponsor is willing; her managers (Steve and George) are not, and her fiance Walter W. Walters II (played by John Eldredge) is a weak jerk who agrees with the managers.  So, when Steve and George  follow her to her vacation spot, and announce she'll need to leave immediately, to star in a new film.  Eve bolts, hides in a car, and next thing you know she is on a road trip with reporter Ward Williams (William Wright) who thinks she is the Singing Murderess (and hopes to get a story and the reward).

As it happens, the film is a musical remake of It Happened One Night.  Two episodes are taken word-for-word from the original: a scene in which a rather obnoxious man wants to turn Eve in for the reward, and Ward convinces him that Ward is a mobster who's kidnapped Eve; and a very late scene in which Ward goes to one of Eve's managers for reimbursement for the trip.  Like most films in which the original is so well known and loved, it is hard to watch it and appreciate it in a vacuum.  You end up comparing it to the original, and of course, the remake suffers by comparison.  But, with an 11 year gap between the two pictures, it is unlikely that the average viewer made that fatal comparison. 

 

It's worth noting that Ann Miller dances not ONE step in the film.  Her lovely singing voice is used to good advantage, but her legs are not (we don't even have the famous hitchhiking scene.  Perhaps it was felt that was TOO familiar).  She's quite good as an actress, and her Eve is endearing.  It's actually rather nice to see Ms. Miller as purely an actress, rather than as a expert dancer (which she was - and gloriously so).  

Though we had seen William Wright before (he played Scott in A Night to Remember), we didn't remember him. He's quite funny as Ward, but it's hard to not compare him to Clark Gable, and frankly, he is no Gable. He began his film career in 1936, and often worked in small roles, with larger roles coming during the war years. He died in 1949, age 38, of cancer.  When he was cast in this film, he had already done three films with Miller; in two of them he was her leading man.  This TCM article provides more detail on Wright and Ann Miller. 

A quick note on John Eldredge.  As children who grew up on The Adventures of Superman, it was enjoyable to see this actor who was an occasional guest star (as a villain).  Another actor with a long supporting career, he was a handsome man who was not quite leading man material.  He easily segued into television, though his career there was not long - he died in 1961 of a heart attack.

Since we can't show you the wonder Ms. Miller dancing, we'll leave you with her singing "I'll Remember April".  She has a lovely voice, and it's a nice way to say goodbye to this little film.