Category: Nominees – 1930s

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

San Francisco – 1936

This movie, for the most part, was a fairly dull piece of work.  It took place in, you guessed it, San Francisco just after the turn of the century in 1906.  That, of course, was the year of the great earthquake that destroyed over 80% of the city and caused about 3,000 deaths.  The film was an early version of the 1970s disaster film genre.  It was the forerunner of movies like The Poseidon Adventure in 1972, The Towering Inferno in 1974, and Earthquake, also in 1974.

The problem I had with it was that the movie was advertised as being about the great disaster.  Even the opening credits made it seem like the quake was a major part of the film.  It wasn’t.  The movie was about a classically trained singer named Mary Blake, played by Jeanette MacDonald.  She is the daughter of a preacher who has come to San Francisco looking for a job at an opera house.  Unfortunately, when a fire burns down the place where she gets her first job, she looks for employment in a gambling saloon called The Paradise.

The Paradise is owned by a confirmed atheist named Blackie Norton, played by Clark Gable.  His childhood friend, who has become a Catholic Priest known as Father Mullen is played by Spencer Tracy.  Father Mullen has been unsuccessfully trying to convert Blackie for years.  When Mary Blake comes to The Paradise, Blackie falls in love with her, though he resists admitting it.

More dull and lifeless sub-plots follow, all of which are leading the audience on a slow journey that doesn’t really go anywhere.  She loves Blackie.  She doesn’t love Blackie.  She leaves the Paradise to sing at the Tivoli Opera House.  She comes back to Blackie and The Paradise.  She leaves Blackie again.  Blackie runs for the San Francisco Board of Supervisors.

The film is about 2 hours long and the big climactic scene we have all been waiting for doesn’t come until the last 10 or 15 minutes.  When the earthquake strikes, it comes from out of nowhere.  At this point in the plot, Mary is engaged to the owner of the Tivoli Opera House, Jack Burley, played by Jack Holt.  He has been trying to buy Mary’s contract from Blackie.  But at the last, she switches sides again, deciding that she loves the corrupt Blackie.

But Blackie has had enough of her inconstant affections.  He rejects her and sends her away.  But as Burly leads her away, all you hear is Mary ask, “What was that?” before all hell breaks loose.  The following earthquake montage was actually very impressive.  Walls fell and buildings crumbled.  Screaming people were buried and killed.  Blackie is crushed by a ton of bricks.

An aftershock hits and the street cracks.  Water and gas lines break.  Fires erupt and the city burns.  The entire sequence was fairly realistic and must have been difficult to choreograph.  This is where I feel Gable showed some acting chops.  He pulls himself out of the rubble with a bleeding head wound.  His tuxedo is torn and tattered.  He is in a daze as he wanders the ruined city searching for Mary.  What he finds is dead and dying friends.

But it is a remarkably unscathed Father Mullen who leads him to the similarly unharmed Mary.  When he sees her, he breaks down and falls to his knees in prayer, thanking God that she survived.  Mary sees him and goes to him.  Then, from out of nowhere, a kid runs into the survivor camp and announces that the fires are out.  Everyone cheers and it is implied that Blackie is now a reformed man.  Time to rebuild!  Happy ending…?

I would have liked to see the earthquake happen earlier in the film.  Then we could have seen how the surviving characters dealt with the tragedy.  How the people of San Francisco dealt with the aftermath of the quake would have made a much more interesting and dramatic story.  However, the singing of the popular songstress, MacDonald, contributed greatly to the success of the film.  She sang the incredibly popular song, San Francisco, six times in the film.  The tune sounded vaguely familiar to my modern ears, so I suppose it had a certain amount of staying power.  But if it weren’t for that and the incredibly well-done earthquake sequence, the film would have been remarkably unremarkable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Romeo and Juliet – 1936

I’m sorry to say it, but this movie was pretty horrible.  The costumes were almost comical, the casting was ridiculous, the directing was questionable and the acting was terrible.  In this review, I can only list what I though was wrong, and then try to find some redeeming qualities that saved the movie from being a complete disaster.

Of course, Romeo and Juliet is probably Shakespeare’s most famous play, though Hamlet may give it a run for its money.  The incredible story of the star-crossed lovers is wonderful if it is treated with care and respect.  However, this adaptation, directed by George Cukor, treated it in a nearly farcical manner, turning its characters into pale imitations of Shakespeare’s original intent.  Wikipedia says that about 65% of The Bard’s play was cut.  How close to the original intent could it be?

First, one of the worst changes made was the addition of Peter, played by Andy Devine.  Peter was Juliet’s Nurse’s servant.  But he should have been named the village idiot.  He played the part of a bumbling buffoon.  He spoke slowly as if he had a mental handicap.  He was supposed to be comic relief where none was needed.  During the opening sword fight in the street, he is shown as being so incompetent that he couldn’t get his dagger out of its sheath.  Ha-ha… What a moron he is!  Good Grief!

Second, the crazy costumes were almost laughable.  Everyone wore glittery, sparkly costumes that belonged in a circus, not on the streets of Verona.  The men wore their tights, but they were the ones with one leg of a solid color, the other leg in stripes or checks.  Benvolio wore a tiny sporran with glitter and tassels in the place where a codpiece might have gone.  Lord and Lady Montague wore outrageous outfits that looked like they belonged in a bad sci-fi movie.  Lord and Lady Capulet’s costumes belonged in a bad fantasy film.  The Prince wore a five-spiked Romanesque helmet that unfortunately looked right at home with the rest of the circus costumes.

Third, I’ll go over the casting.  Romeo was played by Leslie Howard, which would have been alright if Romeo was supposed to be in his late 30s.  The “young” Juliette, played by Norma Shearer, wasn’t far behind him.  Mercutio, played by John Barrymore, was portrayed as a swishy fop who wouldn’t stop talking.  Tybalt was played by Basil Rathbone.  He is just played as a one-note hot-head who is itching for a fight.  Shearer’s acting felt stunted, like she was constantly on the verge of stumbling over the language, though she was very pretty.

There were a couple of choices that Cukor made that had me a little baffled.  In the scene where we first meet Juliet, we see the young girl feeding her pet fawn.  The little deer had a sparkly collar around its neck.  Then as her mother begins speaking to her, we see that Juliet is holding a white bow and arrow.  What?!?  Why?  Is the young Capulet practicing her archery?  That deer better start running!

Later when Romeo kills Tybalt, Rathbone falls off a short ledge.  When he hits the ground, he spreads his arms out to his sides, raises one knee and poses… even though he is already dead.

And one last thing.  Believe it or not, this one is with Shakespeare’s original script.  So, Juliet wakes up in the crypt.  Romeo and Paris both lie dead on the floor.  Friar Lawrence is there to greet her.  He says that the Prince and the night watch are on their way.  They have to be away so that he can get her to a nunnery.  Juliet says “Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.”  Did the Friar not think she might kill herself?  Apparently not, or maybe he just didn’t care.  We’ll never know.  He leaves without another word.

So what did they do right?  Well, they kept the basic story intact, which was the film’s biggest saving grace.  You can rarely go wrong with Shakespeare.  The nurse, played by Edna May Oliver, did a good job at staying true to the character.  Friar Lawrence was good, for what screen-time he had.  Apparently his part was greatly reduced from the original play.  Really, I can’t think of any other mentionable compliments.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mr. Deeds Goes to Town – 1936

This was a quirky little film starring Gary Cooper and Jean Arthur.  It is listed as a screwball comedy, though there was very little about it that I found funny.  Screwball yes, but comedy?

Cooper plays the title character of Mr. Deeds.  He is a country simpleton with more good intentions than sense who inherits $20 million from a great uncle he never knew existed.  To inform him of his good fortune, two men travel from New York to his two-bit little town of Mandrake Falls, Vermont. They are John Cedar and Cornelius Cobb, played by Douglass Dumbrille and Lionel Stander, Respectively.  The first is a shady lawyer who wants the money for his firm.  The second is an ex-newspaper man who is hired to keep reporters away from the inheritor.  I actually really liked Stander as an actor and thought he did a good job.

The two men whisk Mr. Deeds away to New York where he proceeds to make a fool of himself because of his quaint and quirky country ways and sensibilities.  And here is where I had my first problem with the plot.  Sure a man can act silly if he wants to.  But he had a habit of behaving like a child, and that was supposed to be the film’s comedy.

The filmmakers were basically saying, “Look how moronic the sweet little country bumpkin is being.  Aren’t his ridiculous antics cute?”  But then when his juvenile behavior turns out to contain just good ol’ country values and down to earth sense, he is depicted as being the smartest and sanest man in New York.  I really had to role my eyes.  No.  Childish behavior is childish behavior and while there is a place for it, it is really hard to take those who use it seriously.

But as a screwball comedy, we have to have the romantic interest, otherwise Mr. Deeds cannot end up truly happy in the end.  That is where Jean Arthur comes in.  She is Louise “Babe” Bennett, an ace reporter assigned to get the scoop on the mysterious new multi-millionaire.  Her scheme is to bump into him and lie to him, go out with him and get him to like her so that she can write her news stories.  So what do you think will happen?

Well, it does.  She falls for him and his honest country ways.  For her, he is a refreshing change from all the evil liars she is used to in New York.  But once she realizes she is in love with him, Cobb, who has also been won over by the upright Mr. Deeds, tells him who she is.  Did you have any doubts?

Cooper did a good enough job in the role.  I just wasn’t terribly impressed with the role.  Maybe he just seemed like a super nice guy that anyone would want to know to the audiences of 1936.  He had an innocence about him that was as attractive as his face.  He saw the world through that innocence and invited the audience to once again see everything with the same child-like wonder.

Jean Arthur did a good job and was pretty easy on the eyes as well.  There was an easiness about her that showed through despite the hard-hitting reporter character that she was portraying.  And I liked that they didn’t have her wearing any over-the-top costumes.  She was a perfectly reasonable woman.

The film ended with a cute courtroom scene in which a pair of greedy relatives tried to have him declared mentally incompetent so that they could get control of the inheritance.  Several minor characters from the film are brought in to serve as witnesses to prove the case.  At first, Mr. Deeds, distraught over Babe’s betrayal doesn’t even try to defend himself.  But during the trial, the truth is revealed.  She does love him!

He finally starts to speak in his own defense, categorically poking holes in each witness’s attack.  He proves that he is not only sane, but he is more mentally competent than anyone else thanks to those good ol’ country values and that down to earth sense.  And there go my eyes rolling again.

All in all, it was an average and predictable film.  I thought it no better than any other screwball comedy.  In fact, I can think of others I liked even better.  I guess I just have a bit of a higher standard when it comes to a Best Picture Nominee.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Libeled Lady – 1936

I’ll start this off by just saying that this was a fun movie. It was a well-constructed story, it had good actors, good humor, and it was just plain fun to watch. It was a screwball comedy done in the style of other films like 1931’s Front Page, 1934’s The Thin Man, or even 1940’s The Philadelphia Story. I liked the characters, I liked the quick witted comedy, and I liked the fast and yet cohesive pace.

The movie’s 4 main characters were played by 4 big name actors, Jean Harlow, William Powell, Myrna Loy, and Spencer Tracy. My favorite was William Powell because his acting always has a touch of playfulness to it that is a delight to watch. He seemed very at ease in front of the camera.

Tracy played the character of Warren Haggerty. He is a newspaper man who eats and breaths the business. The trick is that he is engaged to be married to his fiancée, Gladys Benton, played by Harlow. While she is waiting for him in her wedding dress, he is trying to find an excuse to get out of the wedding. As luck would have it, a terrible mistake made at his paper turned out to be just the thing.

The paper printed a story about the wealthy socialite Connie Alllenbury, played by Loy. It said that she was a husband stealer and that she broke up a marriage at a big social event. But the story was untrue, and thus we have our title. Connie ended up suing the paper for $5 million because of the libelous article, a lawsuit that would put the paper out of business. Haggerty’s solution is to find and hire an old friend who happens to be a current enemy, Bill Chandler, played by Powell. Chandler agrees to marry Gladys in a sham wedding, find Connie and become her friend, get himself into a compromising situation with her, and have the scene photographed. That way the libelous accusation would become true and the lawsuit would be dropped. Hijinks ensues.

The feel of the whole film is light-hearted and fun. In fact, I think it might be safe to say the screwball comedy might be the forerunner to the romantic comedy of today. During the course of the deception, Chandler falls in love with Connie and begins to do everything he can to protect her. In the end, all the characters are happily in love and the audience falls in love right along with them. The ending is one of those wonderful feel-good endings.

Powell and Loy already had a proven on-screen chemistry that worked in, amongst other things, the Thin Man series. They were fun to watch, especially in the end when all the lies started to fall away and all the truths started to be revealed. Tracy and Harlow also did a good job together as a different, yet no less believable sort of couple. All 4 of the leads did a great job.

Another actor in the film that was memorable was Walter Connolly, playing the part of Connie’s father, James Allenbury. He is a familiar face, who is always seen playing supporting roles but never the lead.

During my research (otherwise known as Wikipedia) I found that at the time the film was made in 1936, Powell and Harlow were an off-screen couple. Apparently Harlow wanted to play the role of Connie so that she and William would end up together in the end. Unfortunately for her, the studio had always intended that the film be a Powell and Loy vehicle that would boost the box-office sales. But at least they gave Harlow top billing. Harlow only made two more films before her death at age 26.

Incidentally, this nominated film was up against the Best Picture winner The Great Ziegfeld, which also starred William Powell and Myrna Loy. Obviously it was a combination that worked.

It is sad to say that movies like this just aren’t made very much anymore. Today’s humor is usually either juvenile or vulgar, but rarely witty. It is its own brand of humor that can now only be seen in movies from the black and white era. And there was an innocence about it that was inviting and easy. Just like the characters in the movie, the audience ends up with a smile on its collective face.

Dodsworth – 1936

OK, Dodsworth’s wife is a lying, cheating, whore.  There, I said it.  The movie is supposed to be an examination of a marriage that is on the rocks, but I could only buy that if both people contributed to the union’s failure.  In this case, the wife was really the only problem, and the husband tried to be responsible, loyal, loving, and above all, patient.  When the film began, I knew nothing about the plot.

I hoped it would be a biopic of a man and his career as an automobile manufacturer.  Apparently, I wasn’t even close.  Within the first few minutes, we see Sam Dodsworth, played by Walter Huston, as he retires and leaves his job behind him.  He comes home to his wife, Fran, played by Ruth Chatterton, and the two seem to be blissfully happy as they look forward to traveling the world, something they never got to do when Sam was working.  As Sam doesn’t like to fly, they book passage on a trans-Atlantic cruise ship.

While on the boat, they meet Captain Lockert, played by a very young David Niven.  He and Frances hit it off while Sam is having the time of his life, experiencing the travel with the wonder and excitement of a child.  Fran thinks of him as a country hick, and is embarrassed by his behavior.  She wants to become a member of the French bourgeoisie.  Before the voyage is over, Lockert makes a pass at her and kisses her.

True, she rebuffs his advances, but the seed is planted.  From there, she acts immaturely, saying that she is still young and wants to live.  She wants to be a party girl, afraid of being perceived as old.  She plays things fast and loose, and starts an affair with Arnold Iselin, played by Paul Lukas.  But Sam isn’t the jealous type.  He knows of her indiscretions and allows them, showing his own character flaw.  We can see a clear pattern develop, and the rest of the film is about how Fran keeps cheating on her husband, and running back to him whenever her affairs go sour.

After her relationship with Iselin goes bad, she apologizes to Sam and he agrees to take her back.  But within twenty-four hours, she starts an affair with Kurt Von Obersdorf, played by Gregory Gaye.  Sam steps aside again, and Fran very nearly marries her new lover.  However, Kurt’s mother, the Baroness, played by Hollywood’s favorite foreign old lady, Maria Ouspenskaya.  I love her every time I see her, and this time was no exception.  She sees through Fran’s civil veneer, and pegs her as the lying, cheating whore that she is.  She forbids the marriage and Kurt leaves her.

So Fran runs back to Sam.  But after being mistreated for so long, Sam meets Edith Cortright, played by Mary Astor.  He resists falling in love with her, but she eventually proves to be a better match for him than Fran could ever be.  In the film’s climax, Fran once again tries to reel Sam back in.  Sam tries to do the right thing, and leaves Edith to return to the woman who is, after all, his wife.  But when Fran fails to apologize for her behavior, and then blames Sam for her own infidelity, he finally comes to his senses and returns to Edith.  Happy ending!

And as far as I can tell, the movie is trying to ask the question, who is to blame?  Is Sam at fault since he is weak-willed, and drove her to cheat because he spent too many years being an inattentive husband while he was amassing his fortune?  Or was Francis responsible for her own cheating behavior?  Obviously, I tend to lean in that direction.  Sam is only to blame for continually taking her back whenever she cheats on him.

So, the story was passable, and I think typical of films from the 1930s.  There was a bit of romance and a bit of drama.  And there was definitely wish fulfillment as all the characters had plenty of money and lived in large mansions or spacious country villas on foreign shores.  To match the great, high-class filming locations, the costumes were all expensive and glamorous.  The wild and carefree Fran was always dressed in sparkly gowns and dazzling jewels.

I have to make mention of a great little scene in which Sam and Fran are hosting a party.  Among others, Iselin and Edith are in attendance.  Edith says, “I hadn’t realized it was your birthday.”  Fran slyly says, “No?  Wish I hadn’t.  No woman enjoys getting to be thirty-five.”  Edith gives her a perfect look that says, “Thirty-five?!?! Who on earth do you think you’re fooling, lady?”  But her actual response is classy and well-delivered.  She says, “When you’re my age, you’ll look back at thirty-five as a most agreeable time of life, Mrs. Dodsworth.”  Fran reposts, “I hope I look as young as you do… when I’m your age.”  Again, Edith avoids taking the bait, saying, “You’re almost sure to, my dear.”  And that little exchange, I think, is also indicative of films from that era.  It was clever, witty, and very telling of a character’s personality, without clumsy or forced exposition.  And all that is to say that even though the film was average, at best, it still had a charm that we rarely see in modern filmmaking.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anthony Adverse – 1936

Anthony Adverse was a film that was based on a novel of the same name, written by Hervey Allen.  But I had to look it up.  I would have sworn that it was written by Charles Dickens.  It’s plot has all the earmarks of a Dickens novel.  It has the poor young orphan boy whose life begins with misfortune.  He ends up with a kindly benefactor who raises him to be an outstanding, hard-working young man.

He falls hopelessly in love with a girl who, for one reason or another, he cannot be with.  As he matures, he acquires both friends and enemies.  Eventually, after years of hard work, he gains a small amount of wealth and status.  And just when it seems that he will get his girl, something happens to keep the lovers apart forever.  The plot sounds so similar to that of David Copperfield, Oliver Twist, and Great Expectations.

The movie starred Fredric March and Olivia de Havilland.  March, of course, plays the lead, Anthony Adverse, so named because of all the adversity he began his life with.  The young girl he falls in love with is Angela Giuseppe, the daughter of household servants.  The master of the house, Anthony’s benefactor, who turns out to actually be his grandfather, is John Bonnyfeather, played by Edmund Gwenn.  Unfortunately, to protect the lad from the evil Marquis Don Luis, the boy’s real father, played by Claude Rains, Bonnyfeather cannot claim the lad as his true kin.

When I think about it, it sounds a bit like a soap opera.  But there were a couple of aspects to the film that I think set it above the common film.  First of all, there was some good acting.  March and de Havilland were both good, but I have come to expect nothing less from them.  They were able to play the drama as well as the romance and it was all very engaging.  De Havilland, especially in her final scene, was good, real tears on her cheeks as she watches Anthony leave her forever, knowing that it is her own fault.

But it is also difficult to find any fault with Claude Rains.  He is always a pleasure to watch.  I usually see him in good-guy roles, but here, he played the villain just as brilliantly.  I liked how he showed a sort of tenderness to his young bride, but complete disregard for his servants.  Then, when he found out that she was in love with another man, he carelessly killed him while she watched.

The period sets and costumes were spot on, and the loud and melodramatic music was appropriate for the romance genre.  I liked the epic nature of the tale being told.  And I also liked the ending, which was a little unexpected, but again, appropriate.  Apparently, after Anthony returns from 5 dark years in Africa, not knowing if Angela was alive or dead, he comes home to find his wife in Paris.  She has become three things:  a famous opera star, the mother of Anthony’s son, and the mistress of Napoleon Bonaparte, played by Rollo Lloyd.  Kind of hard for her to get out of that one.  So, she leaves Anthony a letter and her son, saying that she is not in a position to be a good mother.  “Surprise!  He’s your kid now.  Have fun in America.  Bye!”  I didn’t see that coming.

But the movie was by no means perfect.  For something as linear as a biographical format, the film was a little too episodic.  It had chapters that were clearly defined by breaks in the story.  Text would be displayed on the screen to transition from one sequence to another, plot exposition that the filmmakers didn’t want to film.  I understand that it made the passage of time easier, but there are other ways to do that, some of which were used quite competently in the film.

Also, the entire opening sequence, which told the story of Anthony’s parents and their forbidden love under the shadow of the Marquis, felt strangely rushed.  It was as if there was a lot of back-story to tell and they wanted to get through it as quickly as possible.  Scenes were clipped quickly, as soon as the dialogue was done, and the next scene would begin abruptly.

A small documentary feature about the making of the film, which was a rarity for a film made in 1936, revealed that the original book was over 1,100 pages long.  But it also claimed that the movie was better than the book.  That was a pretty bold claim, but I’m guessing it wasn’t really true.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Top Hat – 1935

Have you seen The Gay Divorcee?  Then you’ve seen Top Hat.  They were the same movie… literally.  The two movies were ridiculously similar.  They had the same plot, the same humor, the same cast of actors and the same dancing.  The only things that were different about the two films were the costumes and the settings.

I was aghast that this film was nominated for Best Picture.  I mean, sure, it was an entertaining film.  But there wasn’t anything original about it.  Once was enough when I watched The Gay Divorcee, which I enjoyed well enough.  But there was nothing new here.

Let’s go over the similarities between the two films and see.  They both starred Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers as the two leads.  In this case the characters are named Jerry Travers and Dale Tremont.  In both movies Astaire plays a professional dancer who is in town to do a show.  While there he has a chance meeting with the beautiful Rogers.  He falls instantly in love with her, but she emphatically rejects his advances.  He pursues her relentlessly, all the while being rebuffed.  He eventually he traps her in a situation where she cannot leave.  He then dances for her, which makes her fall in love with him.

But then there is a misunderstanding which causes her to hate him, thinking him a cad or a philanderer.  He is confused but continues to woo her.  Eventually, the truth comes out.  He is not only an honorable man with good intentions, but he is ready to dance with her to prove it.  And thank goodness that in each film there is a new dance craze for them to showcase in a big dance number.  The now-happy couple has resolved all the mistaken identities and misunderstandings.  The final scenes for both films feature the two of them doing a happy dance together.

The rest of the cast was even the exact same people with only one exception.  The Gay Divorcee had Alice Brady, though in Top Hat, the same role was filled by Helen Broderick.  Aside from that, Edward Everett Horton, Erik Rhodes and Eric Blore all returned to repeat the same roles with different names.  Each character had basically the same function within the plot.

The two films were so similar.  Even the big dance number in The Gay Divorcee, The Continental, was redone as The Piccolino in Top Hat.  So here’s the strange thing.  After seeing the first draft of the script, Fred Astaire reacted negatively, saying that it was too much like The Gay Divorcee.   So a rewrite was done to make it different.  Goodness!  What must that first draft have been like?

So what were the differences?  Well, the names were changed, the locations changed, the costumes changed and the music changed.  Also, Fred Astaire’s acting was slightly better, though not much.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.  Astaire is not a very god actor.  But I’ll admit that, in my uneducated opinion, his dancing was noticeably improved.  In The Gay Divorcee, he seemed gangly and his moves, while they were all there, seemed too stiff and jerky.  He seemed meticulously practiced, but not very graceful, especially when paired up with Ginger Rogers, whose movements looked incredibly fluid and easy.  But in Top Hat, Astaire’s movements seemed much more graceful and not as jarring.

I have to make special mention of the music.  Top Hat featured the music of Irving Berlin.  The song Cheek to Cheek was a good song that has proven to have staying power.  It is still used in movies today.  But while the rest of the score was good, it was ultimately unmemorable.  However, in my research, I found that it was all very popular when the film was released.

And finally, I have to mention one last thing.  I wouldn’t exactly call this a flaw.  It was just a poor choice.  In the number Cheek to Cheek, Rogers was wearing a dress that she designed herself.  The dress was covered with ostrich feathers.  Astaire hated it as it left feathers flying everywhere.  Apparently it caused him to yell at Rogers who then broke down into tears.  Rogers’ mother came charging in like a mother bear protecting her cub.  Another night’s work by several seamstresses solved most of the problem, though stray feathers can still be seen flying from the dress in the final cut.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ruggles of Red Gap – 1935

I went into this movie knowing absolutely nothing about it.  I had no expectations, no pre-conceived ideas.  Based on the title, I thought it was going to be some kind of war film about a company of soldiers either attacking or defending a place called Red Gap.  I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Ruggles refers to a British manservant, played by Charles Laughton, who is lost by his master in a gambling bet.  As a result, he moves to the remote Western boomtown town called Red Gap, Washington, with his new employers.  They are nouveau riche American millionaires, Egbert and Effie Floud, played by Charlie Ruggles and Mary Boland.  They are a crude and uncultured couple, which is in complete contrast to Ruggles’ refined European sensibilities.

You can see the inherent comedy just waiting to burst forth from such a set-up.  The clash of cultures is simply rife with awkward moments, misunderstandings, and silly hijinks.  And at first, that is how the plot played out.  With only a few exceptions, the first half of the movie was fun to watch.  The only thing that really bothered me was the extreme moronic and childish behavior of Egbert while he is in Paris.  He was a-hootin’ and a-hollerin’ as loud as he could and actually jumped on his American buddy’s back to play horsey in the middle of the Parisian streets.  Adults who are not socially retarded do not behave like that.

But while I was rolling my eyes at that kind of thing, I was chuckling at Effie’s uneducated attempts to make herself sound cultured and refined.  It is always funny when people make themselves out to be fools when they think they are being hoity-toity.  As much as I didn’t like the character of Effie Floud, Mary Boland did a good job.  We weren’t supposed to like her.

Charles Laughton did a very good job in the comedic role or Ruggles.  When Egbert gets him drunk, he turns to a-hootin’ and a-hollerin’ at the most unexpected moments.  His sense of timing was spot on and he was a lot of fun to watch.

I also have to give a special thumbs-up to Charlie Ruggles.  His portrayal of Egbert was nothing if not memorable.  In fact, there were moments when he stole the show.  When Effie took him to have his Western moustache trimmed against his wishes, she tricks him into looking the other way while the barber snips off his handle-bars.  His response was to grab the scissors and do the same to the barber.  And despite his drunken childish behavior, he was nonetheless charming in a strange kind of way.

However, the second half of the movie changed quite dramatically.  Instead of a comedy of clashing cultures, it became a bit of a drama as Ruggles discovers that there is more to live than serving the needs of other people.  He develops a sense of independence and learns to serve his own needs and desires.  In our American mind-set, that is always a good thing.  But there is a small part of me that can’t help thinking that there is nothing wrong with a life spent in service if you find that life fulfilling.

But it is gratifying to see the character of Ruggles blossom into an independent man who can make his own decisions and deal with the consequences on his own.  We should all be so lucky.

There were a few other unmemorable subplots that failed to catch my attention.  There was the fact that Ruggles’ former employer traveled to Red Gap to reclaim his manservant.  Instead, the Earl of Burnstead, played by Roland Young, gets much more than he bargained for.  While there, not only does he learn that Ruggles no longer wishes to be anyone’s servant, but he also meets a rowdy singer named Nell Kenner, played by Leila Hyams, and marries her.

The almost melancholy seriousness of the second half of the film climaxes in a scene in which Ruggles recites the famous Gettysburg Address, in which he reminds the folk of Red Gap that all men are created equal.  He makes the significant point that a servant is no less a man than his master.  I’m beginning to see why Charles Laughton was such a popular actor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Naughty Marietta – 1935

What was it about Marietta that made her so naughty?  At first I thought it was the fact that she ran away from being a French princess with an arranged marriage to the evil, old Don Carlos.  But I was wrong.  She was naughty because she was sexually aroused by Nelson Eddy’s voice.  Oh, Marietta, you naughty girl.

OK, this movie was a nice little romantic musical.  It had a somewhat ridiculous story, an embarrassingly ridiculous ending, and some nice singing along the way.  Jeanette Macdonald played Princess Marie de Namour de la Bonfain.  In order to run away from her royal duties, she trades places with a scullery maid and boards a boat to New Orleans along with a group of women contracted to be the brides of rough frontiersmen.  They are set upon by pirates, but are quickly rescued by a group of mercenaries led by Captain Richard Warrington.

Warrington takes a quick liking to the Princess, who now wears the clothes of a commoner, and calls herself Marietta.  But he comes on too strong and she, being the stuck up girl of royal breeding that she is, turns her nose up at him and declares that she does not intend to marry, despite her stolen name and the contract of intended marriage on which that name is written.  But the Captain is persistent, and he sings to her some more, arousing the girl even more.

Eventually his charms win her over and the two fall madly in love.  But tragedy strikes when Marietta’s stern and uncaring old uncle, Prince de Namour de la Bonfain, played by Douglas Dumbrille, arrives with Don Carlos de Braganza, played by Walter Kingsford.  Marietta is tracked down, captured, and forced to return to her life as the Princess.  The evil old men warn Princess Marie that if Captain Warrington attempts to rescue her, he will be executed.  But he comes anyway, and the two lovers sing the duet Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life, declaring their love for all the world to see.  Then he sneaks her out of the bumbling Governor’s palace, the Governor being played by Frank Morgan, an actor who seems to have the bumbling yet kindly father figure down to a science.  Warrington is helped by his loyal mercenary friends.  The two ride off into the wilderness, singing of their shared bliss.  The end.

Or is it?  Yes, that is where the movie ended.  But I can’t help but see the glaring flaws with the plot’s inane and contrived closure.  Let’s take a look at this realistically, shall we?  First, Don Carlos has sailed across the Atlantic to recapture his young bride.  You don’t think he would send scores of soldiers to track her down again, have Warrington killed on sight, and bring her back in irons, if necessary?

Also, think about it.  Even if they were able to elude Don Carlos, the Princess has never worked a day in her life, other than singing in a peasant puppet show for a day.  She can’t cook, she can’t sew, and she isn’t at all fit for manual labor.  This is the frontier of the 1740s.  The happy couple’s marital bliss would quickly disintegrate as soon as reality set in.  If the Princess didn’t die of some disease or in childbirth, she would be in for a rude awakening when her husband expected her to pitch in around the farm to help keep them alive.  Her delicate hands would soon be rough and blistered as she learned to milk cows and churn butter.  Her beautiful skin would grow worn and burnt as she labored under the sun with her husband.  But the implication is that love is all that matters for true happiness.

This movie is pure fantasy and escapism.  In the beginning, the Princess lives in a city with clean and attractive peasants who all love her for her kindness, her generosity, and her beautiful singing voice.  Her escape from the evil Don is unbelievably simple and nobody died while crossing the Atlantic.  Her handsome Captain is masculine and heroic as he sweeps her off her feet, despite her protestations.  It was exactly what audiences of the 1930s wanted to see: rich people falling in love and being happy.

And then there was the music which was mostly unmemorable, except for Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life.  Just watch out for some of the other songs like Tramp Tramp Tramp, in which Warrington and his men sing their marching song with lyrics like, “Tramp, tramp, tramp.  We march together where the tropic sun is riding, or the moon is in the sky.  We must go where danger’s hiding, ready to do or die.  O, you fighting sons of wildcats, are you with me wrong or right?  Then follow where I go to meet the savage foe.  Here’s to men who love a fight.”  Such lazy writing.  This isn’t a song.  This is either character or group introduction, or simple exposition forced into a melody, uncomfortably heard and quickly forgotten.

So what am I saying?  Was it a bad movie?  No.  Was it an unrealistic fantasy?  Yes.  But does that make it impossible to enjoy?  No.  MacDonald was good, as usual.  Nelson Eddy was handsome and had a good enough voice, though unlike Macdonald, his face turned to an expressionless mask whenever he was singing, and some of his vowel production was a little inconsistent.  And despite my protestations, this kind of a happy ending is usually pretty palatable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Les Miserables – 1935

This film was a pretty dull movie, but only because I have seen two different movie adaptations and the stage musical several times.  It is a very watered-down version of Victor Hugo’s novel about the trials and tribulations of Jean Valjean in a difficult time in history.  He starts out as a tragic character who is sentenced to ten years of hard labor for trying to steal a loaf of bread to feed his starving niece.

Anyone who knows the stage musical knows that the story has some intensely dramatic moments, acts of cruelty, acts of generosity, moments of romance and disaster, death and despair, and at the end redemption and forgiveness.  It is a plot that takes the audience to the heights and depths of their emotions.

However, this particular adaptation had so little emotional depth that I was amazed.  So many things were changed from the original novel, which made it almost family-friendly.  Here are a few examples of what I mean.  In the novel, the character of Fantine loses her job at the factory.  She is forced to become a prostitute and then sell her teeth and her hair to pay the Thenardiers for keeping her daughter.  There is no mention of this degradation in the film.  For another example, in the novel, Valjean pays the Thenardiers 1,500 francs to settle Fantine’s debts and buy the 8 year old girl.  The sick and seedy character of Monsieur Thenardier is effectively removed from the story all-together.  So there is no haggling for the girl at all.

The numerous changes from the original novel took most of the miserableness out of the plot.  Did they think that the audiences of the 1930s couldn’t handle the sleazy aspects of the story?  Did they think that their version was more palatable than the original novel?  If they had to water it down that much, then maybe they shouldn’t be making the movie at all.  But the story is so popular that there have been no fewer than 53 other film adaptations over the years done in various countries all over the world, and the hit stage musical.

I think the film’s flaws all come down to one thing which explains why they removed most of the content that they did.  They took out everything that might hint at the character’s motivations.  They either never went into why anyone did anything or they changed their motivations to fit their altered plot.

The two worst examples of this were Inspector Javert’s suicide, and the reasons for the battle on the barricade.  In Javert’s case, they never explained why he jumped off the bridge, why he chose death rather than finally capturing Valjean.  There was a very specific and plausible reason at which the film vaguely hinted, but if you didn’t know the novel, there was no way you could have understood why he killed himself.  Second, and I think that this was the greater transgression, they changed the conflict at the end from the revolutionary uprising of the anti-monarchist republicans to a protest about the severe treatment of criminals in the justice system, specifically galley slaves, like Valjean had been.

And finally, I’ll take a moment to comment on the acting.  Fredric March played the lead as Valjean.  He was handsome and did a very good job, though he sometimes appeared a bit small and frail when he was supposed to be remarkably strong from his years as a galley slave.  Fantine, played by Florence Eldridge, is such a wonderful and tragic character, but they really dropped that ball with how much she was changed.  The young Cosette, played by Marilyn Knowlden, was horrible.  She was supposed to be a frightened and abused child.  She didn’t seem to be either of those things.  She fell into the child actor trap of playing cute for the sake of cute.

I didn’t care for the way Charles Laughton played Inspector Javert.  He made the character emotionless when I think that the character should have been incredibly passionate, though misguided.  The adult Cossette and Marius, played by Rochelle Hudson and John Beal were passable but unmemorable.  Eponine, played by Frances Drake, was a character that was so changed from the original novel, that they should have just gone one step further and changed the name.

All in all, it wasn’t a horrible film, but it was so watered-down and changed that it was ultimately disappointing.