Friendly Fire

Film: Mister Roberts
Format: Turner Classic Movies on rockin’ flatscreen.

Plans change. Some time ago, I recorded the 1935 version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream on the DVR. TCM changed its schedule, though, and instead of getting that, I got Mister Roberts. Ah well, it’s Cagney, and it’s Cagney in one of his more impressive roles, so I figured I’d watch it anyway. I’ve seen Mister Roberts before and it was film I was looking forward to seeing again. I like the cast, and while I don’t love the ending, I love most of the story.

I do wonder about how the filmmakers managed to get the U.S. Navy’s cooperation for producing this film. It doesn’t really paint the nicest picture of the Navy, or at least this one part of it. The movie takes place in the waning days of World War II in the Pacific. However, this doesn’t really take place during the shooting war. The plot takes place mainly onboard the USS Reluctant, a cargo ship that has spent the war resupplying combat ships. On the surface, it’s a successful ship and was even awarded a palm tree for efficiency.

Sinister Birth

Film: Blossoms in the Dust
Format: Turner Classic Movies on rockin’ flatscreen.

I suppose I must be a Greer Garson fan. Garson was nominated for seven Best Actress awards (winning one for Mrs. Miniver) and after tonight I’ve seen all seven. Garson is hard not to like. She’s a classic screen beauty for one thing. For another, she had genuine skill in front of the camera. I’m almost a little sad that I watched Blossoms in the Dust tonight, because it’s the end of my watching her nominated performances. Oh, she’s not going to replace Barbara Stanwyck or Myrna Loy in my classic actress pantheon, but I’m certainly going to reserve her a place.

That said, another reason I might be saddened by watching Blossoms in the Dust is that it might be my least favorite of her nominated films. Oh, it’s not a bad film by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s a very obvious one in where it goes. The melodrama is piled on thick and heavy here, and no mistake about it. There isn’t a moment here that doesn’t call out for strings. Despite this, perhaps because of it, it’s also a film that doesn’t ever stay too long on a single emotional beat. Tragedy is regularly followed up with an immediate shift in emotional focus. Yes, one needs a good emotional transmission for this to avoid stripping the gears.

Emotional Baggage

Film: Random Harvest
Format: DVD from NetFlix on laptop.

Melodrama has fallen out of favor. Okay, that’s kind of misleading. Melodrama fell out of favor a long, long time ago, but there was a time when movie dramas could almost always be counted on to be highly melodramatic. Take a star-crossed romance, a case of amnesia multiplied by two, and a love that apparently worth living in constant pain for, and you’ve got all of the makings of a melodrama for the ages. In this case, that melodrama is called Random Harvest.

A man called John Smith (Ronald Colman) is living in an asylum in England. He’s in the asylum because he has returned from the First World War shell shocked and without his memory. The shell shock has also made him self-conscious and virtually unable to speak. On the night of the armistice, “Smith” wanders out of the asylum because the guards are too busy celebrating to keep track of him. He’s more or less lost and terrified, and is taken in by a woman calling herself Paula (Greer Garson—the character’s real name is Margaret), which is really just her stage name. She realizes “Smithy” is harmless and decides to add him to the traveling troupe. Eventually, the pair run off and get married.

She Blinded Me with Science

Film: Madame Curie
Format: Turner Classic Movies on rockin’ flatscreen.

Don’t let the fact that I have degrees in English literature and linguistics color your opinion on what I’m about to say: I am a science geek. The vast majority of my reading for pleasure is connected to science in one way or another. I admit that I’m not much more than a dilettante when it comes to actual science, but I love it. Stories about science, about its importance and its benefits, are always interesting to me. So when Turner Classic ran Madame Curie, a film that I’ve had some difficulty tracking down, I was pretty interested.

The main point of Madame Curie as a film is to humanize our two main characters, Pierre (Walter Pidgeon) and Marie Curie (Greer Garson). We start with Marie’s days in college at the Sorbonne. She is young, talented, and dirt poor, and attracts the attention of one of her professors when she faints in class. The professor (Albert Bassermann) takes interest in Marie and offers her a position doing research on a particular question. Short on laboratory space, the professor convinces Pierre Curie to accept her into his lab, where she becomes a person of intense fascination to Curie’s lab assistant, David (Robert Walker).

More Like "Averse"

Film: Anthony Adverse
Format: Streaming video from TCM Watch on laptop.

I typically use Turner Classic Movies for films that I can’t find anywhere else. There’s a real temptation to record pretty much everything I haven’t seen, but I’d fill the DVR in a couple of days doing that. Anthony Adverse is a film I can find in a library, but can only get on VHS. I missed it on TCM, but caught the film today on TCM’s online service. I gotta say, I dig the online TCM since it allows me to catch films I either missed recording or forgot to record.

In this case, it’s not TCM’s fault that Anthony Adverse isn’t very good. This isn’t even a case where it’s a film that was good for its time but hasn’t aged well. I’m not convinced that Anthony Adverse was a good film for 1936. It’s overlong, for starters. The drama is drippy, the romance doesn’t work. In fact, the only thing I like in it is something that I found funny that certainly wasn’t intended to be humorous.

Yellow Journalism

Film: Five Star Final
Format: Turner Classic Movies on rockin’ flatscreen.

Sometimes I think it’s a shame that Edward G. Robinson made the movie Little Caesar. No matter how often I see him in something, my first thought when I know he’s going to be in something is of that character. It’s not fair to Robinson, who was a hell of a good actor and better than most of us remember. So, when a film like Five Star Final shows up, it’s unfair for me to think he’s going to be a gangster.

Then again, in Five Star Final, he plays something akin to a gangster. He plays Randall, the managing editor of a trashy New York City newspaper. Circulation is falling for the paper (slightly), and the owner Hinchecliffe (Oscar Apfel) is concerned. His decision is to make the paper a paragon of moral virtue by essentially doing prurient stories about the terrible crimes and placing the angle on the moral failings of the people involved. To get things going, he decides to reopen a murder case from 20 years earlier. A stenographer named Nancy Voorhees (Frances Starr) killed her boss, who had gotten her pregnant and then refused to marry her.

The Bad Seed

Format: Turner Classic Movies on rockin’ flatscreen.

When the topic of creepy movie killers comes up, Rhoda Penmark belongs in the top five. Rhoda is a sociopath, willing to kill anyone for any slight or any other reason she can imagine. She hides her murderous intent behind an overly sweet manner that causes others to find her completely innocent. What makes her special? Two things. First, unlike many a movie serial killer, Rhoda Penmark is eight. Second, unlike many a movie underaged killer, Rhoda Penmark has no touch of the supernatural about her. There’s no vampirism or demonic possession here. She’s just a genuinely evil little girl behind her blond pigtails. And that’s what makes The Bad Seed so interesting.

That paragraph above, in addition to being something like a character study of Rhoda, is also pretty close to a plot summary. We’re introduced to Rhoda Penmark (Patty McCormack) as she says goodbye to her military father, who has been sent off to Washington. Initially, we are given to thinking that Rhoda is very much the perfect child, a little too perfect, perhaps. We learn about the taps she has put on her shoes, her piano lessons, and more. And then, the subject of the penmanship award at school comes up, an award that Rhoda lost to another child. Rhoda’s mother Christine (Nancy Kelly) and the family’s landlord and neighbor Monica Breedlove (Evelyn Varden) don’t consider the award a big deal, but it’s evident that Rhoda is terribly troubled by not winning.

Watching Oscar: Quo Vadis

Film: Quo Vadis
Format: Turner Classic Movies on rockin’ flatscreen.

There are times when I don’t look forward to a particular film specifically because of the subject matter. That’s pretty normal, I think. I pretty much don’t watch torture porn because I don’t want to watch torture porn. I have no real interest in subjecting myself to that, and so the rare film that crops up that touches on that subject is one that I dread. It’s why I put off films like Audition, Funny Games and Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer for as long as I did. At other times, I feel like it makes sense to knock these films out as soon as I can so that they aren’t hanging over my head. Thus it is I spent nearly three hours watching Quo Vadis, a biblical epic that seems tailor-made to tell the faithful how special they are.

I’ll try not to get too anti-religion on you with this one, but that’s not easy for someone with my religious outlook when it comes to a film like Quo Vadis. This is a film tailor-made for the sort of Christian believer who wants to claim persecution for his or her faith, since this film is entirely about the persecution of Christianity by the Roman Empire under the reign of Nero. Never once are we led to doubt anything but the literal truth of the biblical account, and right there and in a large way the film loses me.

What Ever Happened to Paul Muni?

Films: I am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang; The Life of Emile Zola
Format: DVDs from personal collection on big ol' television.

How come no one seems to remember Paul Muni? For a time, he was one of the most lauded actors in the world. He was apparently born to play the lead in biopics, and a quick skim over his profile on IMDB shows that this seems to be where he made his bread and butter. Muni appears in several films on the Big List, and I’ve spent the better part of a day with the man.

I am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang has the lurid title of a film of a few decades in the future. It tells the somewhat true story of an escaped convict who broke away from a chain gang crew and lived as a fugitive. Certainly there are a number of whitewashed aspects of this story from the original, but this version served to expose the chain gang system and create a desire for prison reform.

Our hero is James Allen (Muni), freshly returned from World War I. He’s given his old job in a factory, but it’s not anything he’s interested in any more. Instead, after working with the Army Corps of Engineers, he has a desire to build things. Sadly, there’s no work to be had, and Allen eventually ends up on the road, living hand-to-mouth.

At one stop, another down on his luck drifter convinces Allen to go with him to a local greasy spoon to bum a couple of hamburgers off the owner. The owner, after a little pleading, agrees. But this is more than just a quick attempt at a bite to eat. Our drifter pulls a gun and forces Allen to steal the money. Killed by the police in an ensuing shootout, the drifter leaves Allen to take the rap, and take it he does—ten years of hard labor. It’s not too long before Allen desires to go on the lam, and with the assistance of another prisoner named Bomber (Edward Ellis), he makes a break for it.

Eventually, he lands in Chicago and gets a job on a construction crew. His hard work and good ideas see him rise in the ranks. As he does, he becomes more and more attractive to Marie (Glenda Farrell), his landlady. She discovers his chain gang past and holds it over him, forcing him into a marriage that is perfectly beneficial for her. She spends more than he makes and runs around with other men while she keeps him on a tight leash. This gets even more confining when he meets Helen (Helen Vinson), with whom he falls in love.

Eventually caught, Allen is told that if he returns to the unnamed state of his escape, he’ll be given a pardon after 90 days. But it’s all smoke and mirrors—he’s put back into the chain gang and left, his pardon unfulfilled and the case closed. And so he escapes again, and goes on the road, living in shadows and in fear.

This film is naturally melodramatic, and it plays for pathos rather than tragedy. James Allen is not so much tragic as pitiable. His only crime, (other than escaping from the chain gang), was to give up a stable but boring job. Everyone, it seems, is complicit in the miscarriage of justice that causes him to be condemned to a life on the gang despite the overwhelming evidence in his favor. This, more than anything, is the reason for my accusation of wart removal in this film.

And yet, it’s a pretty good film. Muni is quite effective throughout the film. He suffers well, at the very least. The rest of the cast in general (with the exception of Ellis as Bomber) is subject to fits of extreme overacting and over piety. Regardless of this, the injustice done to Allen strikes a chord, as do the constant and consistent cover-ups of the brutality of the chain gang system in the South. For what it’s worth, the film set the standard and tone for chain gang films to come like The Defiant Ones and Cool Hand Luke. And regardless of the melodrama, the actual story is pretty effecting.

One of Muni’s triumph as an actor, though, comes in The Life of Emile Zola, a film, like Chain Gang for which he was nominated for an Oscar. In this film, we see initially a few snapshots of the early days of Zola (Muni), living in a cold flat in Paris with artist Paul Cezanne (Vladimir Sokoloff). The two suffer for their art, when suddenly Zola is given a job at a book publisher. He goes, but suffers again, this time because he begins to publish articles that call into question a number of facets of French life and society. Dismissed from his job, he returns to poverty, this time dragging along his wife Alexandrine (Gloria Holden).

During this time, however, he meets Nana (Erin O’Brien-Moore), a prostitute. She tells him her story, which he publishes as the book Nana. The book becomes an instant hit, and suddenly everything Zola touches turns to gold. He is lauded throughout Paris and the world by everyone by Cezanne, who tells him that he has grown fat with his success.

At the same time, the French military discovers a traitor in its ranks passing information to the enemy. Captain Alfred Dreyfus (Joseph Schildkraut) is accused and immediately found guilty, stripped of rank, and sent to Devil’s Island. Meanwhile, the real traitor, Major Walsin-Esterhazy (Robert Barrat) is uncovered, but his crime is covered up to maintain the Army’s dignity over the Dreyfus affair. Eventually, Zola gets wind of this and, pricked by the conscience that Cezanne has left him, calls into question the entire affair, accusing the military and even the highest levels of government of conspiracy to keep an innocent man in prison and allow a guilty man to walk free.

Here’s the thing—much like Chain Gang, The Life of Emile Zola is melodramatic to the extreme. Historical events are compressed at the end for a more bittersweet and poignant ending so that the melodramatic feel can remain throughout. Because of this, the movie telegraphs many of its moves, particularly in the last dozen minutes or so. And yet it still works really effectively. This is still a film that has the power to move and to create a great deal of sympathy for the figure of Dreyfus as well as for Zola’s sudden return to firebrand status. The most telling moment is Zola's speech at the end of his own trial. Despite everything working against it--the age and melodramatic stance--it remains one of the great courtroom speeches in film history.

Additionally, the film does tend in many ways to follow the actual history of the events. In some ways, the real story is far more drawn out and difficult, so it would seem that many of the events were compressed for ease of storytelling as well as for melodramatic purposes. But no matter. The film manages to work very well as a courtroom drama, as the story of a man called to action once again, as the story of the man’s life, and, by the end, a story of vindication and triumph.

What’s particularly interesting is the lack of mention of Dreyfus’s ancestry. One of the main charges against the military tribunal that convicted him was very real and evidently legitimate accusations of anti-Semitism. This is completely glossed over in the film, more than likely because of the rising trend of anti-Semitic feelings throughout Europe in the late 1930s. There are mere hints here—Dreyfus is accused and condemned by his military superiors based strictly on his name, a slight nod to the reality of the reason he was convicted in the first place.

What’s also interesting here is the depth of the conspiracy. In many ways, there are echoes today in news coverage and political ideologues that resonate from this film. The Life of Emile Zola manages to expose the subtle workings of human nature and our ability to suddenly grasp onto exactly the wrong idea because our feelings have been stirred up by those paid to do exactly that. If for nothing else, the film is worth watching today because it reveals—as do many other, similar films—our failings as a people to truly understand the depths to which those in power will sink if such power is threatened.

Why to watch I am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang: It single-handedly caused a call for prison reform.
Why not to watch: Melodrama phasers are set to kill, not stun.

Why to watch The Life of Emile Zola: Melodrama that works almost in spite of itself.
Why not to watch: Yet another kick to the hoolies for the French military, as if they needed another one.

She Take My Money...

Film: Gold Diggers of 1933
Format: DVD from Rockford Public Library on kick-ass portable DVD player.

Musicals of the early era of talkies are their own thing. They have a particular pattern to them and a particular method of getting from start to finish. Much of the time, there are multiple road blocks thrown up in the path of, well, putting on a big show. In the end, everything comes together at essentially the exact same time, the show goes off, and everyone who should go home happy does. Most of these musicals were created as a sort of antidote for the Great Depression, and feature upbeat numbers, happy endings, and people who start out down on their luck and end up either in a hit show or happily married, or wealthy, or some combination of the above.

So it comes as no surprise that Gold Diggers of 1933 follows essentially this exact formula with a cast of characters that have become stock and a cast of actors that did this same basic show over and over (as a matter of fact, about half the cast also appeared in 42nd Street from the same year).

So let’s get to the nuts and bolts of this one. Four showgirls have their show closed a day before it opens, putting them back on the skids with rent due and with their stomachs empty. These four are Polly (the actually quite adorable Ruby Keeler), the juvenile ingénue; Trixie (Aline MacMahon), the funny one; Faye (Ginger Rogers), the pretty one; and Carol (the lovely Joan Blondell), the singer. They get word of a new show being produced by Barney Hopkins (Ned Sparks), and he’s game to use all of them in the show. The problem is, as usual, no cash.

The cash, as well as the music for the show, comes in the form of Brad Roberts (Dick Powell), a songwriter who lives across the alley from the girls and who is in a mutual sighing-at-each-other conspiracy with Polly. Barney hires Brad to write the music for the show and Brad promises $15,000, a promise he delivers on the next day. However, Brad flat-out refuses to take part in the show itself. He just wants to write the music.

On opening night, the male juvenile, who is actually approaching middle age, suffers an attack of lumbago, forcing Brad into the stage role. It is here that he is discovered. Brad Roberts is actually Robert Treat Bradford, the scion of a wealthy Boston family. His brother Lawrence (Warren William) and Lawrence’s assistant Fanuel H. Peabody (Guy Kibbee) arrive to talk Brad/Robert out of his career and especially out of his desire to marry Polly. He won’t listen, which forces the two interlopers into a confrontation with the girls.

In a twist that would no longer work in a film today, Lawrence and Fanuel show up at the girls’ apartment and confront not Polly, but Carol, assuming that she is Polly, and not letting her get a word out despite the fact that she tries multiple times to tell them that they’ve got the wrong girl. She and Trixie decide to take the two for suckers. The men believe that all show girls are really gold diggers (hence the name), so they’ll play the parts. And hilarity, allegedly, ensues.

This, in a nutshell, is why many musicals don’t work for me. All Carol has to do at a critical juncture is say, “I’m not Polly!” and the entire second half of the film unravels. All those whacky hijinks are certainly there for the show tune crowd who appear to survive on a diet of such things, but I need a greater dose of realism in my story. Everyone we’re supposed to root for is just a little too clever and everyone who we’re supposed to dislike is just a little too foolish or a little too stupid to work for me. The girls especially are a little too wisecracky (especially Trixie) and a little too streetwise for me do much but roll my eyes.

Okay, the numbers are pretty good, and “Petting in the Park” is a show-stopper that comes at the end of the first act, and the “Forgotten Man” number is great as well. But with “Petting,” they’ve staged a number that is supposed to be taking place on a stage, but features a segment in a park with grass, a terrifying “baby” played by Billy Barty, and a freakin’ rainstorm. In a theater. In the 1930s. Yes for a movie, no for a stage, and yet when the number ends, we see an audience clapping away. These numbers are pure Busby Berkeley, and they look it, and for the musical spectacle of the era, they’re top of the line, but they miss on the “actually in a theater” part.

Since this is a feel-good musical from the Depression, there shouldn’t be a lot of surprises on how it turns out. If you can’t see at least a third of the ending coming at you an hour before we get there, it’s only because you haven’t seen many movies of this era, or many movies that feature either “romantic” or “comedy” or “musical” in the genre description. Since Gold Diggers of 1933’s description includes all three, there’s not a single reason in the world to be surprised at the ending the minute we get past the 20-minute mark and most of the characters have been introduced.

Does it have anything going for it? Well, fans of the genre will find a great deal to enjoy here. I’m not a fan of the genre, so I have to dig a little harder. Twist my arm, and I’ll say that Ruby Keeler and Joan Blondell are, despite the black-and-white footage and the whole 80-year-old movie thing, are sweet, sweet balm for long-suffering eyes. They’re absolute dolls, and they make the film worth seeing, at least in parts.

Ultimately, though, this one is silly and fluffy without much in the way of substance. I can take it or leave it, and nine times out of ten, I’d choose to leave it.

Why to watch Gold Diggers of 1933: Elaborate Busby Berkeley dance numbers and a lot of wisecracks.
Why not to watch: If you can’t see through it, you’re a moron.

What Hays Code?

Films: Little Caesar
Format: DVD from Rockford Public Library on kick-ass portable DVD player.

The stereotypical movie gangster got its start from two films of the same era: Little Caesar and The Public Enemy. The actors in these two films, Edward G. Robinson and James Cagney respectively, were more or less typecast as thugs and hoodlums. Both actors did other things, of course. Cagney worked in musicals, several of which are on this list, and Robinson eventually took smaller roles in great films and acted to great effect. But the short, pugnacious, cigar-chewing, wide-lipped, perpetually frowning thug got its start in the pre-Hays Code days of 1930-1 in the person of Robinson’s portrayal in Little Caesar.

Robinson portrays Cesare Enrico “Rico, Little Caesar” Bandello. We start with a small-time hit in which he and his partner Joe Massara (Douglas Fairbanks Jr.) knock over a gas station, and then go sit in a dinner. While there, Rico sees a write-up in the big city newspaper about a party thrown for a local big time crook by his cronies. That’s the life he wants, and he’s taking Joe with him. Joe isn’t really that interested, though. He’d like to go back to his first love: dancing.

They head to the city, and Rico immediately hooks up with Sam Vettori (Stanley Fields) while Joe goes out and gets himself that dancing job, keeping both musical and other time with Olga Stassoff (Glenda Farrell). Rico is given the nickname “Little Caesar” because of his first name. While Joe concentrates on his dancing career, Rico fully accepts the gangland life. Eventually, the gang plans a raid on the club that Joe works at, in no small part because Joe is still a part of the gang and can act as a lookout.

The raid goes off, but not without a hitch. In the course of the robbery, Rico guns down the new crime commissioner, a crime for which he cannot be protected. Joe, of course, witnesses this, but promises not to say anything to anybody. With the loot from the robbery backing him up and his new status as a man not afraid of using the gun, Rico wrests control of the mob from Sam, turning Sam into one of his flunkies almost immediately.

The other hitch from the robbery is the getaway driver, Tony (William Collier Jr.). Already a nervous man, he panics and crashes the car, then goes home to his mother. In talking with her, he realizes that the life of crime is no good for him, and he plans to confess everything to the local priest, a plan he foolishly admits to Otero (George E. Stone), another gang member. Before he can go to confession, though, Rico guns him down on the church steps, then gives him a massive funeral.

Eventually, Rico rises to the top of the crime heap and is given the same sort of testimonial dinner that prompted his move to the big city. This also involves a threat to his life, and he’s wounded in a burst of gunfire from a rival thug. In retribution, Rico doesn’t kill him, but buys him out and forces him out of town. Now Rico is in the big leagues, and is rolling in material wealth. He tries to bring Joe back in on the take, but Joe isn’t buying. He likes his life and loves Olga, but Rico won’t let him go. This conflict sets up the final scene between the two, and begins Rico’s meteoric descent back to the world he started from.

To modern eyes, Little Caesar is all cliché and obvious, which means it really can’t be watched with modern eyes. The reason the film looks so clichéd, of course, is that it began those clichés—this film is the original and the rest are imitators. Much of that is the character of Rico as portrayed by Robinson. What is now a stereotype was, at that time, a completely original performance, and an incredible one. Rico is in most of the scenes of the film, and is also the driving force behind it. He is the one who moves the plot forward. Everything happens because of Rico’s desires, Rico’s needs, or Rico’s quest to become a big man in a big city.

If I have a complaint here, it’s that everything moves too fast. With its under-80-minute running time, everything happens so quickly that it feels as if there is no time for anything to truly build up naturally. Rico’s rise and fall and especially Joe’s relationship with Olga seem so forced because there is no development there—it just happens. That may well simply be a function of the time in which the film was made, but much of the story feels like short shrift.

Still, this is where the true modern gangster movie started. Without Little Caesar leading the way, this list would lose a good number of films, because they wouldn’t have been made.

Why to watch Little Caesar: The real beginning of the gangster film.
Why not to watch: It has become clichéd in spite of itself.