Nothing Sacred (1937)

Film: Nothing Sacred (1937)

Stars: Carole Lombard, Fredric March, Charles Winninger, Walter Connolly

Director: William A. Wellman

Oscar History: No nominations

Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2021 Saturdays with the Stars series, we highlight a different one Alfred Hitchcock's Leading Ladies.  This month, our focus is on Carole Lombard-click here to learn more about Ms. Lombard (and why I picked her), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

One of the rules of "Saturdays with the Stars" is that I never rewatch a movie for the series (I'm experiencing the star new along with you).  This oftentimes means that some of the bigger films in an actor's career (especially as we continue with this series) get left behind, and that's the case jumping from Twentieth Century to today's movie Nothing Sacred for Carole Lombard.  In 1936, Carole Lombard starred in My Man Godfrey, a movie that would earn her her only Oscar nomination & is generally considered to be her best film (it is one of my favorite screen comedies, and if you haven't seen it I order you to rectify that immediately).  Coming off of that, Lombard was a golden girl in Hollywood-a critical darling, and a name that basically was printing money.  Nothing Sacred was something of a disruption of that pattern.  Critically-acclaimed (both then and now) it was somehow a flop at the box office, and its enduring reputation has been largely due to its status as a genuinely good movie (albeit no Godfrey) and its place as the only Technicolor picture of Lombard's career.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie focuses on Wally Cook (March), a reporter who is coming off of a story where he was hoodwinked into covering a con job as legitimate (which involves Hattie McDaniel in a one-line part, two years before she'd win the Oscar).  He sees a feel-good story as a potential redemption by covering Hazel Flagg (Lombard), who is dying of radium poisoning, and decides to give her a send-off that involves a ticket-tape parade & toasts all over New York City.  The only problem is that Hazel isn't dying, but let's him believe it so she can get out of her small-town life in Vermont.  When she falls in love with him, she realizes she needs to either disappear or die in order to not humiliate Wally, but in the end she marries him, assuming a different name, and letting the "celebrity" Hazel Flagg slip into the night.

Nothing Sacred is the exact sort of movie from the 1930's that I always enjoy, frequently love, but isn't really something that exists today.  Screwball comedies are truly something audiences have grown out of, but it's also genuinely a movie without a lot of laughs.  Nothing Sacred is clever, but it's more of a "hmm, that's witty" sort of observation rather than something that will have you bowling over with laughter.  It doesn't help that the Technicolor is unnecessary (it's fun to see Lombard in her only color film, as she looks glorious, but it does nothing to add to the movie), and the plot is ridiculous (why is the entire city of New York randomly in love with this blonde girl who is dying?).

That said, Lombard continues to sparkle.  She is a truly gifted comedian, and someone who knows how to have chemistry with virtually everyone, even a miscast Fredric March (I adore March in most things, but there's something off here-he seems to be underselling the part, and doesn't really relate to the role as a journalist...there's not enough meat on this role).  Her speech about the logic of her committing suicide is a riot (it's funny in the context even if that sentence is obviously no laughing matter in reality) & her crying jags are spot-on...at this point I'm starting to believe there's nothing she can't do, though next week we're going to see her stretch her skills in a movie that put Lombard beyond what audiences expected from her.

OVP: Camille (1937)

Film: Camille (1937)

Stars: Greta Garbo, Robert Taylor, Lionel Barrymore, Elizabeth Allan, Jessie Ralph, Henry Daniell

Director: George Cukor

Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Actress-Greta Garbo)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

Today is my little brother's birthday, and as we are in a pandemic (and as I am 27 days away from being outside of my vaccine window-get your shot as soon as you can, wait your time frame, & remember that Covid is still deadly even if the weather is nicer so don't lose the race minutes before the finish line) I cannot spend it with him.  But he is a devoted reader of this blog, and one of my favorite people to talk about movies with, and so we will be celebrating him (long distance) today with his favorite Oscar category.  He has seen most of the Best Actress nominees, and as a result I thought it would be fun for us to do two Best Actress reviews to close out the week (that I recently saw), and since it's a special occasion, we're going to start with arguably the most famous Best Actress-nominated performance I had never seen, Greta Garbo's beautiful, tragic Camille.

(Spoilers Ahead) Based on the novel by Alexander Dumas fils (which would inspire not only countless movies but also the famed opera La traviata), the film is about Marguerite Gautier (Garbo), a courtesan who has no money to her name, and instead gets by through benefactors, many of whom dote on her beauty.  In the opening scenes she mistakes Armand Duval (Taylor) for the Baron de Varville (Daniell).  The Baron is wealthy, while Armand is of a good family (but of little money), and while the Baron makes more sense for her, she falls passionately in love with Armand.  The film continually milks this love triangle for all it's worth, with the Baron clearly the loser but still batting because he's bring much-needed cash to the table.  The film has a ticking clock as Marguerite's lavish lifestyle is exacerbating her consumption, and she will surely die if she doesn't change her ways...which she does in the end, in the arms of Armand as they realize they will always love each other.

The film doesn't have a lot going for it.  Taylor & Garbo are both sizzling (and weirdly gorgeous-one of the most attractive screen pairings in film history), but the plot isn't there.  The film constantly just keeps barking between the three legs of the love triangle, but the Baron is obviously meant to be such a villain (and Taylor so dashing) that it's not a fair fight in the world of the cinema. It's clear that Garbo must die, as she's too beautiful to grow old & too tragic to get a happy ending.  But as a result, the movie is forever repetitive.

However, you're not going to care.  This is really stylized acting, but the movie is eminently watchable (it is a guilty pleasure that clicked for me).  It's a grand picture, one with a lot of swoonworthy kisses & embraces, and you'll fall into it like thick molasses.  Did Garbo deserve an Oscar for the performance?  Probably not...there are better performances that came out in 1937 we could cling to.  But this isn't necessarily an "Oscar first" kind of performance...it's more a "swing for the rafters, land among the stars" piece of work, and in that way it's more than successful.  Oscars may be about honoring the best movies of the year, but Garbo's legendary work here has its eyes on something far more spectacular: cinematic immortality.  As perhaps the defining performance of one of the screen's most lasting stars, it gets that.

OVP: Stage Door (1937)

Film: Stage Door (1937)

Stars: Katharine Hepburn, Ginger Rogers, Adolphe Menjou, Gail Patrick, Constance Collier, Andrea Leeds, Lucille Ball, Eve Arden, Ann Miller

Director: Gregory La Cava

Oscar History: 4 nominations (Best Picture, Director, Supporting Actress-Andrea Leeds, Adapted Screenplay)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

The "more than five" window of the Best Picture race for the modern Oscars started in 2009, but it wasn't always like that.  Prior to 1944, the Best Picture race was a rotating number, peaking at one point with as many as 12 nominations for the category.  As a result, like today, you get some films that you wonder if they would've been nominated in a five-wide field or not.  That was one of the thoughts I had while watching Stage Door recently, a movie that features a cavalcade of major actresses, not just of that era but more so of the upcoming era; women like Lucille Ball, Eve Arden, & Ann Miller were all breaking out in a big way with this movie.  I was surprised after watching that the film had also been nominated for Best Director, not because it's not well-directed (it is) but because our modern preconceptions of films starring women (and the male-friendly AMPAS) is to assume such a picture can't score both, and thus be one of the "would've made it to five" films (which it appears Stage Door was).

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie is about a group of women who live in a boardinghouse, many of them aspiring actresses who are trying to land their lucky break.  A new girl, Terry (Hepburn) moves into the house, and her worldly attitude & love of Shakespeare make her an object of ridicule, particularly for Jean (Rogers), a wisecracking dancer who is forced to be her roommate.  It turns out that Terry doesn't need to be there-her father is very wealthy, and she's trying to strike out on her own against his wishes.  The two start to patch things up, and Terry befriends the rest of the girls including unlucky-in-love Judy (Ball), sarcastic Eve (Arden), and especially Kay (Leeds), who is desperate for a part in Anthony Powell's (Menjou) new play.  When Terry gets the part instead (initially on the wishes of her father, who is secretly backing the play in hopes of getting his daughter back after it fails), Kay, frustrated from unemployment & starving for her art, kills herself on opening night.  Terry, bereft from the grief, gives a good performance in the play, and becomes a star.  Despite this, she stays on at the boardinghouse, where her new family resides.

The film is unusual, in that it's clearly meant to be a fluffy, light comedy for the first hour, and then it takes a dark detour in its last few minutes.  The death of Kay is a left field twist, something I didn't really expect (I assumed she'd be rushed to a hospital & get the part that she was meant for that instead went to Hepburn's Terry).  It feels like a cheat to me, and one that kind of leaves a bitter taste in the movie, as it totally upends all of the fast-talking girls, and it feels like it's trying to teach the actresses a lesson that they didn't really deserve-they're just young women trying their best (and Terry's greatest sin was *GASP* being ambitious).  The death of Kay makes the film too off, and while it's still a good movie, it disappears some of the best attributes that made you fall in love with it in the first hour.

The film won four nominations, and three of them I don't have a problem with.  Like I said, this is a good movie, a great one in parts, but it's too sporadic & spastic in the way it handles the genre shift, and so it's simply a good movie.  The direction & writing is in a similar situation-good in both its comedic & dramatic shifts, but it can't combine the two.  Leeds, though, isn't the right fit.  Yes, her character is tragic, but that's all she is-there's no depth here.  It's hard to imagine someone looking at this performance and thinking "best in cast."  Obviously Ginger Rogers & Kate Hepburn aren't supporting parts, but they're both terrific.  Rogers is delicious, some of the best I've seen from her (Rogers was always better in comedy than in drama), and Hepburn is glorious, especially when she has to perform right after Kay's suicide.  If I had to pick a supporting player to honor from the movie, I might go with Eve Arden (though Lucille Ball is good in the role that put her on the map as a character player)-she's quintessential Arden (there's nothing to her Eve), but she (and her cat) steal every scene they do together.

Every Day's a Holiday (1937)

Film: Every Day's a Holiday (1937)

Stars: Mae West, Edmund Lowe, Charles Butterworth, Charles Winninger, Lloyd Nolan

Director: A. Edward Sutherland

Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Art Direction)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

There are certain actors that I struggle to write proper reviews with on this blog.  This is a curse with trying to analyze & stick to some sort of internal metric of what is "quality" or "intriguing" rather than just enjoying a movie.  One of the actors that causes me the most consternation is Mae West.  West was a big star in movies for a brief period of the 1930's, and then would use that stardom to keep herself employed at nightclubs & theaters for the following fifty years.  She's generally fun to watch-she has star quality oozing out of her ears-but she can't act...hell there are times it feels like she can barely move.  Thankfully this isn't exactly a problem with the broad (in the best sense) Every Day's a Holiday.

(Spoilers Ahead) Similar to Rogers & Astaire or Abbott & Costello, Mae West films don't really need a plot so much as they need sets for our star to do her thing on, but we do get an attempt at a story.  Peaches O'Day (West) is a con artist & thief who is wanted in turn-of-the-century New York for a series of crimes, but gets by as the police captain Jim McCarey (Lowe) is sweet on her.  Still, he insists she leave town.  Peaches decides not to, though, and instead dresses as an acclaimed French singer named Fifi, who comes back and is instantly hit on by Police Chief Quade (Nolan), whom she takes a disliking to.  The film ends with Peaches backing McCarey's successful bid for mayor (he's running against Quade, because why not?), and suddenly the con artist is the girlfriend of the most powerful man in town.

Like I said, the plot is a dud, but you won't care as Every Day's a Holiday is pretty fun.  There are some great sight gags (my favorite being Peaches casually dumping her purse out & there being brass knuckles in there...a fact no one commentates on), and the extended sequence where Peaches shop-steals at a department store is a riot.  West's performance as Fifi is so bad (imagine Mae West attempting a song-and-dance in a French accent...in which she succeeds neither in singing, dancing, nor the French accent) that you have to assume it's meant to be mocked (I laughed), and while this is no one's definition of a top-shelf film...I liked it.

The film somehow won one Oscar nomination, for Art Direction.  The Art Direction is expansive, but not all that interesting.  We see West cascade through mansions, night clubs, theaters, & that department store, but none of them seem that interesting, and one wonders if this was the 1937 version of "MOST Art Direction" as opposed to best.

OVP: Dead End (1937)

Film: Dead End (1937)

Stars: Sylvia Sidney, Joel McCrea, Humphrey Bogart, Wendy Barrie, Claire Trevor, Marjorie Main

Director: William Wyler

Oscar History: 4 nominations (Best Picture, Supporting Actress-Claire Trevor, Cinematography, Art Direction)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 5/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2021 Saturdays with the Stars series, we highlight a different one Alfred Hitchcock's Leading Ladies.  This month, our focus is on Sylvia Sidney-click here to learn more about Ms. Sidney (and why I picked her), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

We're going to conclude our month-long tribute to Sylvia Sidney not far from where we started.  In some ways I might have cheated you out of a bit of Sidney's career by focusing so closely on a tight range of films.  Sidney's career did continue past the 1930's, but it was never the same as her brief heyday.  The actress worked sparingly into the 1940's, eventually being declared "box office poison" and only getting work in television.  While she would have two major comebacks in her career, first in an Oscar-nominated turn for 1973's Summer Wishes, Winter Dreams (based on the reaction at the time, she was not expecting Tatum O'Neal to win & wasn't happy about it) and then as a bit player in the Tim Burton films Beetlejuice and Mars Attacks! (Burton was a longtime fan)...I just didn't feel like these really captured the theme of our series this year or of Sidney's career as an actual headliner, so we're going to finish up our month with one of the more consequential films in her career, and certainly the better-remembered: 1937's Dead End.

(Spoilers Ahead) Dead End is unusual in the way it tells its multiple stories, so I'll give you a summary of kind of where the plot is, and then try to wrap your head around the structure.  The movie takes place in the New York City slums, where wealthy residents live in locked-up apartment penthouses while below them the poor inhabit run-down tenements.  The film has at its center a group of young teenagers who engage in petty crime, but most of the actual plot of Dead End is around a series of different adults.  Principally, there's Drina (Sidney), whose younger brother is one of the gang but who hopes that she'll be taken out of the slums by a rich man who never materializes.  Her childhood friend Dave (McCrea) is having an affair with Kay (Barrie) whom he loves but who cannot provide for her in the way that the wealthy man she's having an affair with can.  Concurrently, we see Baby Face Martin (Bogart) who comes back to his old neighborhood, seeing Dave (who he knew once) and wanting to meet up with his old girlfriend Francey (Trevor).  Baby Face, though, isn't welcome here-his mother (Main) won't welcome him home, and once he meets Francey he realizes that she's now a prostitute, one who is dying of syphilis.  Baby Face & Dave get into an altercation while Baby Face is plotting his next crime (kidnapping the son of one of the wealthy penthouse owners), and in the process Baby Face dies, and Dave gets the reward money.  Despite Kay offering to run away with Dave now that he has the money, he chooses instead to help Drina, whom he has always loved, pay for her brother to stay out of a juvenile detention facility, and hopefully stopping the poverty-to-crime cycle.

Dead End feels like a screened play, which it was (the original was by Sidney Kingsley, and was adapted here by Lillian Hellman).  The teenage hoodlums feel interchangeable (a bit of Rosencrantz & Guildenstern), but there's a fascinating dynamic in their language & their attitude.  For a movie made in 1937, it feels refreshingly modern, and I think that's that it's capturing some of the youth of the era in a way that we don't see for films often, and largely wouldn't afterwards because these youths would end up just a few years later going to war.  Though the cast would change, these kids would star in a series of films for Samuel Goldwyn,that would eventually become the Little Tough Guys, the East Side Kids, and finally the Bowery Boys, a series that would stretch two decades.  I haven't seen any of these movies, and none of them enjoy the critical reputation of Dead End, but I get why Goldwyn wanted to repeat this recipe.  The youths commentating on their adult counterparts, sometimes not knowing exactly why the adults are motivated to do the foolish things they do (thus getting around some of the post-Code conversations about sex, violence, & the criminal justice system) is smart-it works really well.

This is just one of the aspects of Dead End that's a winner.  Our star is Sylvia Sidney, and she gets her due (and yet another series of moments where she can appear flummoxed against impossible odds, which kind of became her theme this month), but she's not the reason you leave this film impressed.  That would be Humphrey Bogart & Claire Trevor.  Bogart wasn't yet a proper star when this came out (hence his third billing), but he proves why he became one with a rough, merciless performance.  He is cruel, and plays his role well as an adult man who never got beyond a teenager's mentality of "me, me, me"...you see that in the way that he admonishes his mother for not loving him unconditionally, even though he's a murderer.  And you see that in the big scene he has with Claire Trevor about halfway through the movie.

Trevor plays a prostitute named Francey, one who was once the love of Baby Face's life, and whom he sees as the ideal woman.  But in the years he's been away with his criminal enterprise, she has become a prostitute, and is dying.  This is one of the shortest performances ever nominated for an Oscar-it's just one scene-but it's unbelievably good.  Trevor comes in with bravado, plays Francey just right enough that you can't quite tell what is acting & what is real, and gives us a woman who gave up a hope a long time ago, but shows it's fun to dream, if only for a second.  This is brilliant acting, similar in scope to what we'd expect from 1950's method performers, and she never mines for easy sympathy.  She gets it though with Bogart playing his childish disgust (rather than understanding) when she isn't the same woman he left behind.  In under five minutes she gives us the whole story of a woman's life, and the cruelty of her unfair impending death.

The film's final two Oscar nominations are also winners.  The Art Direction is great-the street scenes feel confined, and like they're always being looked down upon from above, so that the players know where they rank in the world.  For a film from the 1930's, everything feels like it's been lived in.  And the cinematography from Gregg Toland is beautiful & electric, using closeups (like on Trevor's pale face or Sidney's tear-stained eyes) & wide shots (the shadowy looks at the docks, or how it grabs all of the production details in the scenes where the kids are hanging on a street corner) to further tell a story.  Dead End is a masterpiece, a movie that you can't really expect-it feels fresh, modern, & is a fitting end to our month devoted to its star, Sylvia Sidney.

OVP: The Prisoner of Zenda (1937)

Film: The Prisoner of Zenda (1937)

Stars: Ronald Colman, Madeleine Carroll, C. Aubrey Smith, Raymond Massey, Mary Astor, David Niven, Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.

Director: John Cromwell

Oscar History: 2 nominations (Best Art Direction, Score)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2021 Saturdays with the Stars series, we highlight a different one Alfred Hitchcock's Leading Ladies.  This month, our focus is on Madeleine Carroll-click here to learn more about Ms. Carroll (and why I picked her), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

We are going to conclude our month devoted to Madeleine Carroll this week with a movie not too far away from our last film.  Picking Carroll as a Star of the Month was a tossup for me (there were other leading actresses from Hitch's early films that we could've gone with).  She obviously starred in two movies he directed, which lends a lot to her, but Carroll's fame was sharp but brief, and we'll talk about that below, but it also means that there's not a lot of opportunity for growth in her characters & acting style.  This is true once again for Prisoner of Zenda, a body-swapping tale set in 19th Century Austria where Carroll is asked to play the doted-upon beauty.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie is about a man named Rudolf (Colman), who is fishing when he comes across Colonel Zapt (Smith) and Captain von Tarlenheim (Niven), who are shocked by how much he resembles the soon-to-be king, Rudolf V (also played by Colman).  The king is a drunkard, and on the morning of his coronation it is found out that the wine has been drugged, thus Rudolf V cannot be coronated.  Since both of his aides are worried that without Rudolf there, his brother Michael (Massey) will steal the thrown he covets, they put Rudolf in his place, which fools most of the court, though eventually not Michael & his aide Rupert of Hentzou (Fairbanks), but there's a problem-the king's betrothed Princess Flavia (Carroll) is now in love with the imposter king, and before they can switch back, the real Rudolf is kidnapped by Rupert & Michael, with madness ensuing that eventually kills both men, and results in Flavia & the faux Rudolf falling in love, but having to stay apart out of her duty to her country.

The movie is fun, though more fun in the first half than in the second when it gets too melodramatic.  Not all of the cast works (Astor is badly misused as the leg of a Rupert/Michael love triangle), but Fairbanks is delicious as Rupert (I've never seen him this good), completely stealing the film, and I always David Niven (even if his part is small).  Carroll, as I mentioned, is kind of just there-there's a twinkle to her work here, but not much more, and certainly it's not a performance I would've paid attention to were I not looking at it from this angle.  Particularly coming a year after the abdication (in this film, of course, Colman in both the Wallis Simpson role to Carroll's Edward VIII decide that duty comes before love), there are more interesting things to focus on than Carroll's wallflower.

The film was nominated for two Academy Awards.  The Score was the first citation for Alfred Newman, who would during his long career win 43 Oscar nominations, so we will be hearing from him a lot in the upcoming years, and while he wrote some truly brilliant music, this is just fine.  It's the kind you'd expect from a swashbuckler, rousing but not that original.  The art direction is better (this is before Best Costume was a thing, otherwise that likely would've occurred, especially for Fairbanks' sexier looks), and has lots of great-looking sets though there's nothing that stands out as truly detailed in the movie.

As I said above, we will end our chapter focused on Madeleine Carroll here.  The actress would continue working in Hollywood for the remainder of the decade, acting opposite Henry Fonda, Fred MacMurray, Gary Cooper (again), and Bob Hope.  However tragedy would strike Carroll's life early in the 1940's, when her only sister Marguerite died during the London Blitz, and afterward devoted pretty much her entire existence to the war effort and beating the Germans (Dwight Eisenhower purportedly said she did more for the war effort than any other movie star).  This resulted in her eventually winning the Medal of Freedom and the Legion of Honor, but it also killed her career in film.  She'd make only three films after the war (most notably Otto Preminger's The Fan), and spent the rest of her life living with family in Europe, eventually dying at the age of 81 from pancreatic cancer.  Next month we're going to focus on a different actress, one who was a contemporary of Carroll's, but whose career took far different turns (and lasted many decades longer) on the big screen.

OVP: Black Legion (1937)

Film: Black Legion (1937)

Stars: Humphrey Bogart, Dick Foran, Erin O'Brien-Moore, Ann Sheridan

Director: Archie Mayo

Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Original Motion Picture Story)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

I'm still finishing up some of the 2020 reviews that I know are important for the Oscar conversation (which is hitting high-gear next week with the Globes & the SAG Awards being announced next week).  However, as we start to wind down 2020-21 Oscar season in terms of viewing (even if predictions are just getting started), we'll begin to move back into classic cinema at a bigger clip.  I was doing "theme weeks" throughout the entirety of 2020 as part of quarantine, but as I'm focusing on a few side projects that require more of my time (including one for the blog!), we'll be moving away from that even if I might bring it out of its dormancy on occasion.  Instead, we're going to go back to random (oftentimes) Oscar-cited works from across the cinematic spectrum, though in some cases random will read more as prescient, which is the case with today's film Black Legion, which was the film that was "supposed" to be Humphrey Bogart's big break, but didn't really come of that (more below).

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie is a short message picture.  Bogart plays an affable, if unlucky guy named Frank Taylor who works at a factory and in the opening scenes seems like a surefire bet to become the plant foreman.  He & his wife Ruth (O'Brien-Moore) are ecstatic about this and what it may mean for their young family, but when they pick a different man for the job (one who has been studying the machinery rather than relying on gut instinct like Frank) who happens to be an immigrant, Frank becomes xenophobic & bitter.  This attracts the attention of a local secret organization called the Black Legion, who recruit Frank & with him start terrorizing local people who stand in Frank's way, with a particular focus on the immigrant community of the city.  Frank tries to escape the organization, but they threaten his wife & child, and he is eventually abandoned by his wife (ending up with a local "woman of ill repute").  His friend Ed (Foran) tries to save him, but is instead flogged, and while Ed is trying to escape, Frank kills him.  He realizes instantly his mistake, but still bows to the Black Legion until he takes the stand at a trial for Ed's murder, when he confesses everything and outs all of the Black Legion members in town.  The ending is a dour one for Bogart, with he & the rest of the men sentenced to life in prison.

Message pictures of this ilk were quite popular in the 1930's & 40's, and for the most part they've aged poorly.  The problem with issue pictures is frequently that they are no longer "hot button issues" years later, and thus it's hard to really comprehend what a movie would've meant in its time frame for a modern audience.  However, this is sadly not the case for Black Legion.  Just a few weeks after terrorists brandishing Confederate flags sieged the US Capitol, it's clear that racism & xenophobia are alive & well in the United States, and are in fact the platform of a major political party.  As a result, Black Legion is more relevant than ever.  The problem for the film is that it occasionally is so deliberate in telling its story, underlining who is "good" and who is "bad" (leaving only Frank in the middle), that it reads more like an after-school special than an organic film.

The movie is a noteworthy curiosity for two reasons (both of which are reason to check it out).  The first is that it's dark.  While the organization goes by "the Black Legion," it's clear to anyone (then & now) that the organization is meant to represent the KKK (so closely that the KKK sued Warner Brothers for using their patented logo, though the case was eventually dismissed).  I will admit on a random Wednesday night that I was not prepared to watch quintessential movie star Humphrey Bogart suckered into literally being a member of the KKK, and the initiation sequence (where Bogart basically signs a blood oath with the hate group at gun point) is shockingly raw.  

The second reason to like this is that Bogart is great.  The National Board of Review gave him the award for Best Actor at the time.  Though I didn't love his courtroom confession, the menacing hatred he feels combined with our natural instincts to trust Bogart (he's almost always the hero), make this is a chilling performance that plays off of his star persona.  This is likely giving the film too much credit (even if it works), because in 1937 Bogart wasn't a proper star yet.  Though he'd gained notice in movies like The Petrified Forest, this wasn't the big break many thought it'd be, and he'd wander the wilderness on the Warner Brothers lot until 1941's High Sierra, which transformed him into a legend.

OVP: Stella Dallas (1937)

Picture: Stella Dallas (1937)
Stars: Barbara Stanwyck, John Boles, Anne Shirley, Barbara O'Neil, Alan Hale
Director: King Vidor
Oscar History: 2 nominations (Best Actress-Barbara Stanwyck, Supporting Actress-Anne Shirley)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

We're going to switch it up a little bit this week in terms of reviews, as we have a theme.  This week, we'll finally get the 2016 Best Actress article out-the-door, and with it, I wanted to make Best Actress our theme for the week.  As a result, today through Friday, we'll have a different Best Actress nominee's  (keeping with our randomness, that will be the only thing these films have in common) film for our review, all of them ones I saw for the first time while on quarantine.  We'll kick it off with a look at a signature Barbara Stanwyck role that I had somehow never seen until this past weekend.  Stanwyck is one of my favorite actresses, and pretty much one of the favorites of every cinephile.  She's bold, brassy, interesting, a star for decades but one who frequently played strong, confident women; in many ways she's impossible to separate from Bette Davis and Joan Crawford (with whom Stanwyck enjoyed a decades-long friendship).  The big difference between the stars, from history's perspective, was that Stanwyck never won an Oscar, arguably making her the most important actress of the 1930's & 40's to not have a competitive trophy (she'd eventually win an Honorary Award in 1982).  Considering she was so well-liked at the time, and generally picked good movies, it has to be asked-why didn't she win?  Today, let's take a look at that question with the first of her four Oscar-nominated roles in Stella Dallas.

(Spoilers Ahead) The film focuses on Stella (Stanwyck), a crass mill worker's daughter who dreams of being the kind of girl you see in the society columns.  She sees that the son of the mill owner Stephen Dallas (Boles) has recently broke off his engagement to Helen (O'Neil), and his father has died, leaving him penniless.  She swoops in and starts romancing him as he tries to make something of himself (to win back Helen), but Stella sways him into marrying her (it's heavily implied that Stella will make the "sex after marriage" be worth Stephen's wiles in as close as a post-Code film could get to such an insinuation).  They have a daughter, Laurel (Shirley as a young woman), but that's the only thing tying them together, as Stephen is more refined and, try-as-she-might, Stella just can't fit into proper society.  When she realizes that her brashness is costing her daughter's place in the world, Stella agrees to divorce Stephen so he can marry Helen, and in the process, Laurel will get to have all of the advantages that Stella never had.  The film ends with Stella tricking Laurel into thinking she doesn't love her, when in reality her happiness is the only thing she ever cared about, and she watches, penniless, from the window as her daughter beautifully (and happily) weds a wealthy young man, the way she dreamed she would before Stephen.

The film doesn't do a lot of what we'd expect from a melodrama.  For starters, it doesn't dumb it down, and it doesn't try to stop being a melodrama.  There are threats of such things, specifically Alan Hale's drinking buddy of Stella's, who could easily be confused for comic distraction to keep the film lively, but that's not really his role.  The audience, even in 1937, is meant to understand that Hale's Ed is bad for Stella, and she sticks with him not because she doesn't understand that, but because he's one of the only people who seems to genuinely like her for herself, and not view her as a disappointment. That the only person who doesn't view Stella with pity is a man we as the audience quickly dismiss is kind of genius on the part of the writers.

The film as a result works as a proper drama.  I don't usually like roles like Shirley's, where the daughter is meant to be sweet-but-oblivious, but Shirley does more with this part than you'd think (the nomination isn't just because she's pretty-and-young, as does happen in this category with too much frequency).  She has her tantrums, yes, but look at the knowing realization she has with her  mother in the train bed sequence, understanding that her mother clearly was pretending to sleep, and heard every word, but both are too proud to admit why they are leaving, and what must happen in order for Laurel to join the society they both want for her.

As for Stanwyck-she's magnificent.  I don't entirely get how it is that Luise Rainer in The Good Earth won this Oscar, to be honest.  I haven't seen the performance, so maybe it's unbelievable, but reviews do not indicate that's the case, and even so-she was a brand new actress who had just won the Best Actress Oscar, and was competing against Irene Dunne (in her best role), Janet Gaynor (creating a truly iconic prototypical role in A Star is Born), Greta Garbo (in her most iconic film, Camille), and Stanwyck, who is so damn good in this movie.  The way that she carries herself, the passion she brings to those final scenes, making sure to sell not only that she's doing this for her daughter, but also that she's doing this for her, that she wants both of them to be happy...it's so impressive.  Worse yet for this field-other than Gaynor, none of those women would ever win a competitive Oscar.  I don't entirely know who I would put at the top (we'll get there someday, and obviously I need to see Rainer to be fair here), but Barbara Stanwyck deserved a competitive Oscar at some point in her career, and some Academy sleuth needs to uncover why she never got one.

OVP: Mr. Dodd Takes the Air (1937)

Film: Mr. Dodd Takes the Air (1937)
Stars: Kenny Baker, Frank McHugh, Alice Brady, Gertrude Michael, Jane Wyman
Director: Alfred E. Green
Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Original Song-"Remember Me")
Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

One of the things that happens when you are going into the DEEP cuts of the Oscar Viewing Project, you discover that Oscar will repeat himself with some truly odd trivia.  Perhaps one of the best recent ones I discovered is that "Remember Me" is not just the name of the Oscar-winning song from Coco, but also the name of a different Oscar-nominated song from eighty years prior, Mr. Dodd Takes the Air.  This is a movie that, until it popped up on TCM recently, I'd never heard of, much less realized was Oscar-nominated.  Unfortunately, the movie bears little resemblance to its weird factoid sibling Coco, but is instead a pretty generic romance from the mid-30's with extremely middling stars.

(Spoilers Ahead) The film is about Claude Dodd (Baker), a rural electrician who has a beautiful baritone voice.  He is discovered by a national mattress chain, and is hired to be their spokesperson, but after a surgery, it turns out he has a haunting tenor voice, and is instead snapped up by a toothpaste company for an absurd $1000-a-week.  With that kind of money he's pursued by a gold-digger (Michael) and an opera diva (Brady), but only has eyes for a sweet young girl who worked for the mattress company, Marjorie (Wyman).  Marjorie also realizes that Claude has an invention that will easily fix people's radios, and tries to convince him that he should patent it, but he just wants the simple life.  The film ends with him retreating back to his regular life, Marjorie getting the patent (so they'll be rich), and the two kissing under a tree, all's well that ends well.

The film is really simple, and doesn't have a lot to distinguish it.  This was before Wyman was a star, and if you'll recall from past articles, I'm not a big fan of the actress even when she's winning acclaim.  Here she's simply a plucky girl, scrunching her face and wizened to people like Michael's gold-digger, but still properly sweet-as-pie when it comes to Claude.  Baker is almost unknown today (certainly compared to someone like Wyman), but was at one point a relatively big deal, most known for being one of the cast of characters on Jack Benny's radio show.  Here, he plays Claude as ridiculously simplistic, to the point where he needs to act like a diva, he doesn't even know how.  Wyman at least could hit her marks and know what emotion her character is supposed to feel in any given scene.

The film's music is its saving grace, though I'll admit that I'm a bit stumped why "Remember Me" is the nominated tune from it.  It's a fine-enough song, and Baker does have a heavenly voice, but it's not as central to the plot as something like "Here Comes the Sandman," which Baker sings beautifully, and in three separate scenes.  "Remember Me" isn't as good of a song, and it's definitely not as memorable in the movie even though it was covered by more artists afterward.  But the music is good-it's a pity that Baker isn't known at all today for his voice, as this would be a worthwhile soundtrack, and excuse you from seeing such a routine film.

OVP: In Old Chicago (1937)

Film: In Old Chicago (1937)
Stars: Tyrone Power, Alice Faye, Don Ameche, Alice Brady, Andy Devine
Director: Henry King
Oscar History: 6 nominations/2 wins (Best Picture, Supporting Actress-Alice Brady*, Score, Sound, Original Story, Assistant Director*)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2019 Saturdays with the Stars series, we highlight a different actress of Hollywood's Golden Age.  This month, our focus is on Alice Faye-click here to learn more about Ms. Faye (and why I picked her), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

Alice Faye's career trajectory is odd because rather than having a nice curve, it just sort of stops in 1944, when Faye walked off the FOX lot and never returned despite being a proper star still.  However, the beginning is much more traditional, and after making a splash in George White's 1935 Scandals (which is not available on any streaming platforms #iwilldieonthissoapbox), she cemented her stardom with In Old Chicago, which purportedly was being considered for Jean Harlow before her untimely death at the age of 26.  This film, which teamed her with Don Ameche and Tyrone Power (by far her two most frequent costars), was considered one of the most expensive films of the era, thanks to its gargantuan recreation of the Great Chicago Fire, and was nominated for six Academy Awards, winning two including Best Supporting Actress for Alice Brady.

(Spoilers Ahead) The film takes place in three parts.  There is the opening scene, an odd one where the O'Leary family is idiotically racing a train, and then suddenly Mr. O'Leary dies leaving Mrs. O'Leary (Brady) to raise her three sons as a washerwoman, the eldest of two are Dion (as an adult played by Power) and Jack (as an adult played by Ameche).  As adults, these two men have pursued completely different life courses, with Jack a respectable (if frequently unsuccessful lawyer) and Dion a sneaky saloon owner & gambler, who is in love with a singer named Belle (Faye), whom his mother forbids him from marrying.  Eventually, in hopes of eliminating his competition who once humiliated him, Dion tricks his brother into running for mayor, and thanks to some dirty blackmailing of the police commissioner on Dion's behalf, he wins.  The film then routinely pits Dion and Jack against each other, with Dion going to extraordinary lengths to hurt the bond with his brother, even at one point tricking Belle into marrying him so that she can't testify against him.  All of this comes to a head in the final twenty minutes of the movie, where Mrs. O'Leary's cow (a legend in real life, but not here apparently) kicks a lantern and burns the city to the ground.  In the fire, Jack dies and Dion finds redemption, with Mrs. O'Leary forgiving Belle for, well, being a singer & approves of their union.

There's a lot to unpack with In Old Chicago, and I'm going to start with two of the biggest issues I had with the film: Tyrone Power's character is an awful human being, and Alice Brady's Mrs. O'Leary is a horrible cliche.  Dion has multiple moments of duplicity, but when he starts turning it onto his brother Jack (who is a genuinely good guy and should be our hero) and his feisty love interest Belle, it ruins my idea of him ever getting redemption.  Let's be real here-Jack ends up dying trying to save his brother, who wouldn't have needed saving if Dion hadn't sent the mob to try and kill Jack in the first place (even though Jack was just following the law).  Jack also basically tries to rape Belle in the beginning of their romance, which in the 1930's was a more common cinematic trope than you'd think (just watch literally any Errol Flynn movie), and then spends the rest of the movie emotionally abusing her, using her love for his own gain, and also assaults her again halfway through the movie.  There's a recurring "gag" where Belle's maid Hattie (played by Madame Sul-Te-Wan) runs to the police to arrest Dion, to just have the two be kissing when she returns.  Basically the joke is that Tyrone Power is so ludicrously handsome that no woman would possibly turn down sex with him.  I'm all for adjusting to the time period when you consider a movie, but this felt gross even by the standards of 1937 (technically 1938, but we use the years they were nominated for Oscars on this blog).

(Side Note-do yourself a favor right now and google Madame Sul-Te-Wan, who I knew nothing about before seeing this film, but realized afterwards that I had seen her in more pictures than I had Faye.  She was the first black person ever put under a contract in Hollywood, was the daughter of slaves, and had a career that spread from The Birth of a Nation to Carmen Jones, costarring alongside stars as famous as Jane Wyman, Barbara Stanwyck, Lucille Ball, & Veronica Lake at different points in her career.  She'd make a fascinating biopic if anyone would like to think outside of the box.)

Brady, on the other hand, doesn't necessarily have a lot of problematic aspects to her performance, but she's soooo hammy it's kind of hilarious she won an Oscar for such a character.  Her Mrs. O'Leary is pious, constantly finding the problems with her child but treating her husband as a saint, even though in our brief time with him he seems kind of like an idiot.  She feels like the sort of one-dimensional work that was popular in the era, but that style of acting is completely out-of-style today.  That she won an Oscar for such work feels odd, and considering how inconsequential she is to the plot, her story arch is a bit of a stretch.  The film received a sextet of nominations, the others slightly more earned.  The score is serviceable, interesting during the firefighting sequences, while the sound is excellent thanks to the action set-pieces.  The story itself is a bit too hammy and requires too many suspensions-of-belief for my taste, particularly when you compare it to the fantastic A Star is Born that was competing against it.

But the Best Picture nomination lands right in the middle for me, and that's because while Power & Brady are both disappointments in the film, the movie has two great assets: that final fire sequence and Alice Faye.  The fire sequence is mesmerizing, and staggering considering they had no access to CGI at the time.  I'm honestly surprised that this didn't win Best Picture at the time as a result of these scenes, which required controlled sets, and were so dangerous that women (save the three female stars) weren't allowed on set.  These scenes are really interesting, and fascinating to watch staged, and part of the reason I had to give this a 3-star even though it had so many problems.

The other is Alice Faye-I loved her in this movie.  She has a natural comedienne's gift, finding the perfect chemistry with both Power & Ameche, and still grounding her character without making her a saint or a woman scorned.  She manages to realize her love for Dion doesn't make sense, but she still leans into it, and her singing is great.  In many ways she feels like a hybrid between Jeanette MacDonald & Barbara Stanwyck, and I instantly understand how this movie made her a star.  Considering I'd never seen one of her films before, I'm really hoping that this is an indication that we're in for a fun month.

OVP: Quality Street (1937)

Film: Quality Street (1937)
Stars: Katharine Hepburn, Franchot Tone, Fay Bainter, Eric Blore, Cora Witherspoon
Director: George Stevens
Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Original Score)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

Growing up, one of my favorite discoveries was the fact that Katharine Hepburn is at her best when she's funny.  Between Bringing Up Baby and The Philadelphia Story, Hepburn surpassed her finest dramatic work and gave, in my opinion, her two very best performances.  This revelation was followed in turn by disappointment when it became apparent that these also happen to be two of the best films ever made, and Hepburn would occasionally flounder into overacting when given less structured or elegant humor.  As a result, I was not expecting Quality Street to bewitch me so ferociously when I caught it recently.  The film, based on JM Barrie's play, is a delight from start to finish, and features some prime Hepburn comedy.

(Spoilers Ahead) The plot to the picture itself is simple enough.  We have Phoebe (Hepburn), a young woman of some means who is in search of a bachelor, desperately in love with the local doctor, Valentine Brown (Tone).  Phoebe, however, cannot seem to tell Dr. Brown how she feels, and when he says he's off to fight in the Napoleonic Wars (when she thought he would propose), she assumes a life of spinsterhood.  Ten years pass, and Phoebe is dressed as an old maid, which surprises Dr. Brown, who says she's aged more than she expected, to which she's rightfully furious.  Phoebe then dresses in a beautiful gown and makeup, making herself look younger and passes herself off as her imaginary niece Livy.  Shenanigans ensue as Dr. Brown first is smitten with Livy, then realizes that he's actually in love with Phoebe, and all the while Phoebe and her sister Susan (Bainter) are trying to stave off the neighbors, who are certain that Phoebe and Livy are one-and-the-same.

If it sounds ridiculous, that's because it is.  The movie's plot is thin, and it's hard to imagine Dr. Brown not realizing instantly that Livy is Phoebe in disguise.  But once you move beyond that, this movie is actually quite delightful.  Hepburn and Tone are fine together, but it's really her chemistry with Bainter that sells the movie.  I loved every second of them trying to pull a fast one on their nosy neighbors, and their conviction that they will be able to both maintain the ruse and perhaps make their neighbors look the fools is marvelous.  Honestly-the film is filled with such lovely and delightful touches (even a very early-in-her-career cameo from Joan Fontaine), and at 83 minutes is deliciously spry, that you don't really care if you know exactly where it's going every step of the way.  Chart this one up in the Kate Hepburn comedic win column.

The film received one Oscar nomination, one of those truly random nominations for music that seemed to happen so often in the 1930's and 40's when studios could basically buy a nomination in the category there were so many nominees.  The actual score is omnipresent, accompanying almost every angle with bouncy strings and a playful attitude.  It's hardly groundbreaking or iconic, but it fits the movie itself like a glove, and it also led me to a picture I probably would have never seen otherwise (thus is the joy of the Oscar Viewing Project even if it thrusts upon me a movie like Suicide Squad in the same breath), so I'm grateful for the nomination even if it feels somewhat unearned.

Those are my thoughts on this charming little picture-has anyone else seen it?  If so, share your thoughts, and if not, please give me some of your favorite Kate Hepburn performances, either dramatic or comedic!

OVP: Topper (1937)

Film: Topper (1937)
Stars: Constance Bennett, Cary Grant, Roland Young, Billie Burke
Director: Norman Z. McLeod
Oscar History: 2 nominations (Best Supporting Actor-Roland Young and Best Sound Recording)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

They don't make 'em like they used to do.  That's such a bizarre cliche, mostly because you frequently don't want them making them like they used to do.  In a lot of ways films have shifted to reflect modern tastes, and someone like, say, Susan Hayward wouldn't really be in place in today's modern dramas-she'd come across as too histrionic.  However, when it comes to screwball comedies, then yes, they don't make them like they used to, mostly because they don't really make them at all.  The screwball comedies, films like The Awful Truth and The Thin Man and Bringing Up Baby-they sort of exist in the past like Impressionist paintings and Baroque music.  Luckily for me, Turner Classic Movies still runs them and so I caught the charmingly daffy Topper this past week.

(Spoilers Ahead) The film stars Cary Grant and Constance Bennett as George and Marion, two Manhattan society types with a great idea for fun but not much of an idea for responsibility.  They're regularly galavanting around town, trying to find a good time, but oftentimes not taking any personal responsibility for themselves and driving cars like mad men.  They have an old friend named Cosmo Topper (played by Roland Young, and frenemy may be a better word at the beginning of the picture) who is the exact opposite-Topper is predictable and very responsible, but he receives no joy from life, and neither does his social-climbing wife Clara (Billie Burke, and yes that is Glinda the Good Witch), who spends most of her time berating Topper.

You can kind of see where this is going, with both sides needing to find an equilibrium with the other, but there's a twist-George and Marion die about a third of the way through the movie.  I knew this was coming, but otherwise would have found this a bit shocking.  Being that this is a screwball comedy, it doesn't phase them in the slightest, however, but they do realize that in order to get to heaven they probably need to do something worthwhile with their lives, and as a result they decide to help Topper to get a little bit more joy out of life and to stand up to his wife.  In the end, after a series of madcap adventures, Topper in fact does this, and the couple are granted access to heaven.

The plot of this film is probably why it couldn't work today.  Modern audiences would view George and Marion as being completely callous and dangerous with their driving, rather than an utter delight, and while a berated Topper is believable, he's hardly what you'd call a character that works as a leading man (though I can't help but cast Eddie Redmayne, Emma Stone, and Richard Jenkins for these parts in my head).  Still, that doesn't mean the film isn't totally worthwhile, because it most definitely is.  The chemistry between the two leads is absolutely wonderful.  This was the first major comedy hit that Grant had that wasn't opposite Mae West (random fact that I am guessing most don't know: Cary Grant's career actually started with Blonde Venus opposite Marlene Dietrich and a pair of major hits opposite Mae West, but he didn't become a headliner in the way he is remembered today until 1937), and it's worth noting this is probably one of the last films he would make as a leading man where he didn't get top billing (that went to the more famous-at-the-time Bennett).  It's also worth noting that during the late 30's/early 40's that Grant was incredibly smart with both his scripts and his leading ladies.  Constance Bennett is utterly charming, though largely unknown today, and has wonderfully wry chemistry with both Grant and Young.  Grant would follow up this film with performances opposite Irene Dunne, Katharine Hepburn, and Rosalind Russell, showing that his agent clearly knew what he was doing.

The film received two Oscar nominations, one for Roland Young as the title character and another for Best Sound.  Young is okay most of the time, and occasionally even fun (though in my opinion Bennett and Grant always steal the show), though I'd question a bit his supporting role.  He's not only the title character, but he seems to have more screen-time than either Grant or Bennett despite what the billing may indicate, and it seems like he got this nomination more out of the way that Hollywood operated in those days (either you were a star or a character actor).  I would have liked to have seen a little bit more either slapstick sensibility from him or appreciation for his new self as the film went on, as that would have gotten me a bit higher on the performance.  The sound nomination is surely for the effects that happen throughout the film, where Bennett and Grant are frequently speaking in a voiceover (which would have been a less common effect then than it is now), and I suppose that's impressive, though the rest of the film never really seems special in that regard and it seems weird to call it one of the year's best for a trick.

Overall though, this was a comedy delight even if it's never quite as good as Bringing Up Baby or The Philadelphia Story.  For those who have seen it-what are your thoughts?  Do you like the first film better, or are you partial to one of the sequels?  Do you think that Roland Young deserved his Oscar nomination, and perhaps even a win?  And what are your thoughts on Cary Grant's leading ladies-who is your favorite?  Speak up in the comments!

OVP: The Hurricane (1937)

Film: The Hurricane (1937)

Stars: Dorothy Lamour, Jon Hall, Mary Astor, C. Aubrey Smith, Thomas Mitchell, Raymond Massey, John Carradine

Director: John Ford

Oscar History: 3 nominations/1 win (Best Supporting Actor-Thomas Mitchell, Best Sound Recording*, Best Score)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

Turner Classic Movies could play a John Ford film every single day and no one would bat an eye.  More than Hitchcock, more than Kazan, more than even Capra, his films encapsulate what that channel is championing: great stars, great stories, and grand-scale epic filmmaking.  Ford’s filmography, spanning over 100 films long, is a daunting task for any movie-going completist, and I was both surprised and not at all shocked (if one can be both things) to learn that The Hurricane, a mostly forgotten film from 1937, was one of Ford’s many, many pictures.

(Spoilers, right ahead!) The film tells the story of Terangi (Hall), a Tahitian sailor who is about marry Marama, the daughter of the chief of the small island of Maukura (Lamour).  Hall, though white in appearance (this was the 1930’s, and casting white actors as people of color was very much in vogue), suffers from discrimination due to his Tahitian heritage, and eventually is arrested for punching a white man who baited him with a racist comment.  Terangi cannot handle being imprisoned and away from his beloved, and pulls a Jean Valjean and breaks out of jail.  He constantly gets caught, however, and is eventually sentenced to sixteen years.  All the while the governor of Terangi’s home island (Massey) refuses to have Terangi brought home to finish his sentence, and unrest rules the island.

Of course, being that this is a Ford picture, Terangi finally breaks free, and in the process, accidentally kills a guard (an act punishable by death).  He flees to his home island and is in hiding for a short while.  Before the governor is able to try Terangi for the murder, however, a storm reaches the island that throws everything into chaos.  The island is destroyed and eventually Terangi, his wife, and their daughter flee from the island into the ocean.

The movie, released in 1937, was made during the first great period of the all-star disaster film, with a supporting cast that includes Mary Astor, C. Aubrey Smith, Thomas Mitchell, Raymond Massey, and John Carradine.  This genre would become a major box office draw in the 1970’s, but in fact had an earlier heyday with films like In Old Chicago, San Francisco, and The Stars Look Down.  This was my first encounter with the 1930’s-brand of disaster films (I’ve seen some of the bigger ones from the 1970’s), and I will say that it suffers a bit in comparison.

My biggest problem with The Hurricane was the chief cast.  Hall and Lamour are both very beautiful, but they don’t have a lot of character growth or substance.  Hall makes Terangi too simplistic, like he’s channeling Johnny Weismuller’s popular Tarzan character rather than a man who has had human contact his entire life.  Lamour breathes little life into her Marama as well, oftentimes just trying to strike a dramatic face and say something ominous while waiting for her man.

The supporting cast is of little consequence as well.  Despite starring a host of reliable character actors, no one stands out, including Thomas Mitchell, who received an Academy Award nomination for this film.  Mitchell who made a career out of playing a doctor (as well as Scarlett O’Hara’s father) was considerably better with stronger material in his two 1939 classics, Gone with the Wind and Stagecoach.  Here he is playing a similar style character, but appears far more on autopilot, and this nomination comes as a bit of a surprise.

The thing to recommend The Hurricane, however, is that great title sequence.  The movie received Oscar nominations for Score and Sound Recording (winning the latter), but had there been a Visual Effects category at the time, it’s hard to fathom this not winning.  The fact that the oceans of water, the falling buildings and the dangerous trees were managed without the assistance of computer effects is nothing short of spectacular.  While I cannot quite get to my “you should see it” three-star rating with this movie, if you can catch the title sequence on YouTube or a fortuitous channel-surfing, I recommend sticking around.

Those are my thoughts on The Hurricane-what are yours?  If you haven’t seen it, what do you think of Lamour, Hall, and Mitchell?  Do you think that Mitchell (the first Triple Crown of Acting Winner) is an underrated performer?  Share in the comments!

OVP: Conquest (1937)

Film: Conquest (1937)
Stars: Greta Garbo, Charles Boyer, Reginald Owen, Henry Stephenson, May Whitty, Maria Ouspenskaya
Director: Clarence Brown
Oscar History: 2 nominations (Actor-Charles Boyer, Art Direction)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

One of the most popular posts in the run of the Oscar Viewing Project thus far has been that of the Garbo/Brown collaboration in Romance, so when I saw that Conquest was buried in my TiVo, I thought this was the perfect opportunity to unearth another Garbo/Brown collaboration and make it my Saturday Morning Movie, and the next OVP film.

The movie, for those unfamiliar, is about Napoleon Bonaparte (played by Boyer) and his mistress, Countess Walewska (played by Garbo).  The film follows the first meeting between Bonaparte and Walewska, where she shows that she adores him as if like a God because she believes he will liberate her beloved Poland.  As the movie goes on, she grows disdain for him as he's clearly interested in her for "only one thing" and proves that he is just a man.  Then, quite suddenly (too suddenly, if you ask me), she decides she is back in love with him (but first she is abandoned by her husband for betraying him by trying to free Poland with her feminine whiles).  We see her by his side as he first becomes the great Emperor of Europe, and then when he is banished to Elba and defeated at Waterloo.  Throughout, she remains devoted even as he strays and marries another woman.  All-in-all, an exhaustingly epic story, and very ambitious for its time period (the film cost an exorbitant amount of money, and was actually a sizable flop at the Box Office when it first came out).

Because this is Clarence Brown, and because this film is made in 1937, Garbo's character is as saintly as can be, and her intentions always look noble, even if on the surface they are not.  My biggest problem in the film had to be the quick-turnaround for Walewska about her love for Napoleon.  While it's certainly believable that she fell in love with his power or developed some Stockholm Syndrome, since this is 1937, we don't get to see that and considering Brown's rather sexist treatment of women, I'm not willing to give him the benefit of the doubt; the Countess's unwavering devotion to Napoleon, and so suddenly, makes it hard to swallow the role and the film's love story.  This is a woman he basically forced into being his mistress, and yet we get little indication that Garbo resents him for it, even though she almost certainly would have.

I rather enjoyed the supporting parts played by Whitty and Ouspenskaya, both strong character actresses of the 1930's and both with far more realistic reactions to this egotistical emperor.  Whitty, his mother, acknowledges his weaknesses even when Garbo doesn't, and Ouspenskaya, a Countess Dowager whose mental capacities are gone (she still thinks that her friend Louis XVI is ruling France when Napoleon enters the picture), are strong character bits that the film probably needed more of-by far the best acted scene in the film, in my opinion, is the wry scene with Ouspenskaya and Boyer while they are playing cards.  Ouspenskaya thinks Napoleon is mad because he is an emperor, even though she is obviously the mistaken one.  This sense of fun is missing severely from the rest of the film, and with an actor with such an eye twinkle as Charles Boyer, that seems like a wasted opportunity.

Boyer received one of the film's two Academy Award nominations, his first of four nominations for Best Actor (he would never win, though he would win an Honorary Oscar certificate in 1942).  There's definitely a lot one can say about Boyer-he has presence, for certain, and he has the onscreen chutzpah to pull off a character like Napoleon, but his tendency toward the overcooked, and his ability to constantly be switching from love to anger and nothing in-between is a pale comparison to, say, the haunted work that Fredric March does as a fading movie star/alcoholic in A Star is Born from the same year.  The film's other nomination, however, is far more up my alley-the millions of dollars that they spend on the budget to create the elaborate castles and houses that litter the continent of Europe were well spent, as every scene creates that decadent luxury that one associates with this period in European culture.  Bonus points go to the film's opening scene, when we see a gorgeous and stately manor torn asunder by horses braying around the foyer (it sounds weird, but totally works on-screen).

All-in-all, I gotta say I'm still not impressed with Brown, and am starting to lose a little bit of hope that I ever will be (though with five more of his Best Director nominations to go, I'll have ample opportunities to change my mind).  The film's complete lack of character development, and the overwrought performance by Boyer move this to 2-stars, though the handsome production design, strong (female) supporting work, and the luminescence of Garbo keep it from falling into the 1-star column.

And, as always, we end with some food for thought-what'd you think of Conquest?  Is there a Clarence Brown film that would win me over?  And which Garbo film shall we take a journey to next?  Don't be shy-comment away!