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Post by NoShear on Oct 5, 2024 14:41:44 GMT
⇧ I am stunned by what happened to Marie Prevost, as I knew nothing about her personal life, but professionally, she pops up in a lot of precodes in major supporting roles. Had she died destitute in 1957, or maybe even 1947, I'd have been less shocked, as we know many stories like that about actors. But it's pretty surprising to see her go from having a successful career in the early 1930s to dying of malnutrition only a year or two later.
Paid from 1930 with Joan Crawford, Robert Armstrong, Marie Prevost, John Miljan, Purnell Pratt and Douglas Montgomery
Other than getting a bit muddled and mawkish at the end, Paid is a hard-hitting and entertaining precode that says some cops are bad and the legal system is brutally unfair and biased for the rich, but it also says crooks are worse.
Joan Crawford plays a department store worker who is railroaded into jail when she's accused of stealing. Crawford's sentence is severe because the store's owner, played by Purnell Pratt, sternly refuses to say anything in Crawford's favor at her sentencing.
In jail, which is harsh but has a hint of women's prison prurience, Crawford does two things: she studies the law, and she befriends a fellow inmate played by Marie Prevost. When she gets out after three years, she joins Prevost's gang of swindlers, but Crawford has a plan.
Her angle is to swindle older rich men out of money by having them propose marriage to her or Prevost. When the men realize who the girls really are, the girls sue them for breach of promise. It's nasty but legal as is a partnership swindle Crawford also masterminds.
The gang's old leader, played by Robert Armstrong, smartly cedes his position to Crawford, a woman he's developed feelings for. Things are going well as the money is coming in, and while shady, it's all legal.
The police are wise to them, but Crawford is smart and keeps the gang within the law. That, though, isn't enough for Crawford as she also wants revenge on Pratt, so she – get ready for it – marries his son, played by Douglas Montgomery.
The classic three-act story has now completed act two where the heroine, Crawford, has exacted revenge on the villain, Pratt, by stealing his son from him. Up to now, it's an excellent retribution movie, but as the saying goes, it still needs a third act.
Paid gets muddled now as the gang members, sans Crawford as she's focused on hurting Pratt, consider slipping back into their old ways when they see an opportunity to make a big score by stealing from Pratt.
The other wrinkle, which you'll see coming, is Crawford, against her will, beginning to fall for her husband for real – despite having married him only as a way to hurt Pratt.
From here, the movie mashes all these threads together into a giant muddle that is both confusing and hard to believe. The movie needed a Hollywood ending, so it got one, but the twists at the climax are too cute, and the wrap-up is rushed and awkward.
Had Warner Bros., not MGM, made Paid, the ending would probably have been harsher but more realistic. MGM's movies, even during the precode era, had a gloss that rough-and-tumbled Warners didn't.
Paid, though, does accuse the legal system of being unjust, harsh and biased for the rich. The cops look dirty as they use tricks, deceit, and physical force to get confessions. They bend the law like Crawford does. Paid is no shining example of American justice
Crawford's acting isn't subtle here; she'd become subtler in time, but she is effective as the wronged woman on a revenge quest. Other than Prevost, who is wonderful as an insouciant swindler, this is Crawford's movie, so much so, she fireman carries it through the third act.
Armstrong is good as the crook who, ironically, doesn't seem to enjoy making money honestly. Pratt is fine as the cardboard "rich guy" who has no feelings for his employees, but Montgomery feels almost like a placeholder as the pretty boy son who's just a pawn.
If Crawford has a true antagonist in this one, it's John Miljan playing the police inspector who stalks Crawford's gang throughout. The long closing scene, where he manipulates everyone as he uses his office as a stage, is impressive, even if the storyline is forced.
Paid uses its precode freedom pretty well. It shows America's justice system, from its courts to its police, in an unfavorable light, while having a woman, pretty much, outsmart the men time and again.
Paid would be remade as a B movie in 1939 with the title Within the Law, the story's original stage name. The remake held on to a decent amount of its grit, plus it's a more polished version, but for raw precode entertainment, this 1930 version is the one to watch.
TopBilled and Fading Fast, the Paid still reminded me that Joan Crawford would pull KP again in Mildred Pierce, much to the ironic chagrin of Veda and to the pleasure of the Academy. The Motion Picture Country House and Hospital is said to have been partially inspired by the destitute death of Marie Prevost... Too late for Prevost, but Norma Shearer would benefit from the Woodland Hills retirement community near the end of her days:  |
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Post by topbilled on Oct 5, 2024 15:04:18 GMT
Good review, Fading Fast. I agree that the film does point a finger at the corruption of the justice system.
I thought the sequence near the end in the inspector's office dragged on a bit too long. Of course, Armstrong had to be found and confess, so Crawford's character could have a happy and romantic ending.
If this had been done at Warner Brothers, I could see Ann Dvorak doing a great job with the role...as physically, she reminds me a bit of precode Crawford.
Recently I watched and reviewed CAIN AND MABEL (1936). There is a funny performance by an uncredited actress playing a Broadway producer's secretary. I realized while looking at the cast list on the IMDb that the uncredited actress was Marie Prevost. It was one of her last movie roles. She'd gone from second leads to uncredited bit parts in 'A' films in a matter of just a few years. But she's really good in CAIN AND MABEL and shows what a fine actress she was up to the end, even though her life was troubled off-screen.
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Post by topbilled on Oct 13, 2024 13:38:39 GMT
This film is from 1951. (It's in the public domain so not neglected in that way, but I think it's neglected compared to the original.)
Comedic aspects of marriage and parenthood
Spencer Tracy’s character Stanley Banks tells the viewer that he had just gotten over paying for his daughter’s expensive wedding. Life was getting back to normal, before the boom was lowered on him again.
Daughter Kay (Elizabeth Taylor) and her husband Buckley (Don Taylor) announce they are expecting a child. Of course Stanley realizes babies don’t come cheap, and he starts thinking about how much this will cost. Meanwhile, wife Ellie (Joan Bennett) is more preoccupied with giving their first grandchild everything it could possibly need.
One of the initial conflicts– the size of the newlyweds’ apartment and how they will need more room to raise a child. Buckley’s parents (Moroni Olsen & Billie Burke) plan to build an additional wing on to their home to accommodate the growing family, but the young couple just made a down payment on a new place of their own.
The new home is soon completed, and Kay and Buckley to move into it. Did every young couple back then have children immediately? Was the sole purpose of a wife to start playing homemaker and mother hen while she was still technically a bride..?
What I do like about this picture is how clearly defined the main characters are. Yes, Kay’s brothers have minimal screen time; and Buckley’s folks are clearly supporting the plot instead of driving it. But everyone’s motivations are firmly established. Plus we get to see Kay mature and bond with her parents in a new way this time around.
Issues are quickly exaggerated. They argue quite easily, which reflects how some families are…especially when one set of in-laws compete with the other set. That adds to the chaos and fun, since this is meant to depict comedic aspects of marriage and parenthood. I mentioned in my review of the original film that it plays like a TV sitcom, and interestingly, MGM did turn this property into a sitcom in the early 1960s, starring Leon Ames and Ruth Warrick.
FATHER’S LITTLE DIVIDEND (the word ‘dividend’ referencing the new offspring) is not an overly deep thesis or meditation on domestic calamities. But there are some moments of truth that come out in the dialogue.
The screenwriters have devised a series of miscommunications and add-on scenarios intended to get laughs. Not all of these comedy cliches work. For instance, I didn’t really find it funny when Ellie Banks drove like mad en route to the hospital, because they thought the baby was about to be born. I asked myself, why did the writers give this bit to Joan Bennett instead of Spencer Tracy to play? Then it dawned on me– it was done this way to emphasize the stereotype of crazy women drivers.
Speaking of gender distinctions, why did the baby have to be a boy? Why not a girl? I suppose the reason is because we need to see Grandpa Stanley bond with a grandson. Also, to ensure that patriarchal wisdom will be passed down from the oldest male to the youngest one within the same nuclear family. The writers wanted the infant named after Stanley, so the baptismal scene at the end had an extra layer of meaning.
Off screen Liz Taylor had just gone through her first divorce. She would soon marry actor Michael Wilding, and give birth to a son. Her role in FATHER’S LITTLE DIVIDEND was good preparation.
Here’s a photo of the actress with Michael Wilding Jr.
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Post by topbilled on Oct 17, 2024 10:27:49 GMT
This neglected film is from 1931.
Two hearts
This precode picture from MGM tries hard to convey the exotic nature of love between two people from different backgrounds in India. One is the son of a rajah, played by studio star Ramon Novarro, who was actually from Mexico. The other is a wealthy American woman (Madge Evans) who is bound by the conventions of her socially proper upbringing. They embark upon a forbidden romance that is thwarted by prejudice on all sides.
The opening sequence of the film is much more exciting than most of what follows. While stereotypes abound— the people in India are presented as cutthroats and thieves — there is well-played action involving the murder of Navarro’s father (Mitchell Lewis). In addition to being a rajah, he is also a jewel merchant. He has in his possession a large diamond that he gives his son moments before dying.
Novarro’s character escapes the same fate as his father, since a holy man (Nigel De Brulier) helps to hide him by digging a shallow grave. Navarro’s own assassination is thus prevented, and after the trouble is over, he is left to start a new life with his father’s diamond.
One thing I found a bit unbelievable is that after the holy man had unearthed him, Navarro’s clothing was perfectly clean. Of course, there was no mention how long Novarro went without eating or using a restroom.
In the next part Novarro is trying to sell the diamond in a nearby town, but a crooked businessman attempts to cheat him. When that fails, Novarro is accused of being a thief. There’s an exciting scene where he runs through the streets until the police nab him. An American (Conrad Nagel) who had been in the shop where Novarro had hoped to sell the diamond ultimately verifies the truth of Novarro’s statements in court. So, he is cleared of any crime. A short time later, another man buys the diamond in a legitimate business deal, meaning Novarro has now become a very wealthy man.
We don’t see Nagel’s character again, till the end, when it is revealed that he is the older brother of Evans’ character. Novarro has met Evans while playing polo one day. In typical Hollywood fashion, they have a whirlwind courtship though their cultural background and religious differences may be too much to overcome…not to mention, their obvious racial differences, as well.
The middle part of the film bogs down in romantic slush. That’s fine for people who enjoy such things. But after such a strong start, I felt the movie was just marking time after awhile. Yes, there is an intriguing scene where Evans visits Novarro’s home and is taken down into a dungeon where he keeps his priceless collectibles. However, the story didn’t really pick up again until Evans’ aunt (Marjorie Rambeau) stepped in to break up the couple.
As a result, Novarro whisks Evans off to the jungle on a tiger hunt. The tiger hunt sequence contains a lot of cute and cuddly animals, which I felt was unrealistic. Instead, the danger that is presented comes in the form of the assassin that Novarro crosses paths with again. There is a skirmish, with the assassin trying to kill Novarro but seriously harming an adorable elephant. The elephant won’t stand for this and it chases after the killer, grabs him with its trunk and proceeds to drown the bad man in a pool of water. Only in the movies!
The next danger occurs when Evans falls and lands on some poisonous plant. She needs to have her blood drawn to save her life. The dashing son of India is apparently schooled in medicine, and he uses a knife to lance her arm and remove the poison. The part where he does this is strangely played in a romantic way.
The final portion of the film has Novarro learning that Evans is related to Nagel, with Nagel convincing Novarro that marrying Evans just won’t work out. They will be too ostracized. The whole thing ends on a slightly ambiguous note. We are told that miscegenation is a no-no, and the lovers debate giving each other up, but their two hearts will still continue to beat as one.
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Post by Fading Fast on Oct 17, 2024 11:10:40 GMT
Son of India from 1931 with Raman Navarro and Madge Evans
This short precode packs a powerful interracial-relationship punch inside a smartly constructed story that reveals people were thinking hard about race relations and prejudices in the 1930s.
There are two ways to try to understand Son of India. You can think about it in the context of its day and the views and beliefs that were held about race then, or you can simply feel smug and superior by considering it in a modern-day context only.
Ramon Navarro plays the son of a precious jewels merchant. His life is selflessly saved by an Indian holy man who hid Navarro when bandits came to steal his father's jewels.
Later, an American tourist saves Navarro from a trumped-up charge of thievery. Navarro's father raised the boy to believe that gratitude is "the highest command of God and that no God will ever forgive a man who breaks the command of gratitude." The die is cast.
Years later, Navarro is himself a wealthy merchant of precious jewels when he meets a pretty American tourist, played by pretty Madge Evans. Soon the two begin a very tentative and cautious affair.
Both recognize the race prejudices of the time "forbid" their affair. The Indian community would not accept her any more than the white community would accept him, so their affair risks ostracism for both.
As in almost every inter-racial love-affair movie ever, the one thing we the audience see and care about is that the two lovers are sincere in their love - our sympathies are rightfully with them. Yet in 1930 it was not easy to say "it doesn't matter."
The water everyone swam in then was water where the races didn't intermarry. It's the game theory "everybody knows that everybody knows you don't do that" tenet, which controls behavior more than any written law ever could.
Evans and Navarro are ready to chuck their communities for love, but great pressure, in the form of outstanding debts of gratitude, comes down hard on Navarro. Evans is steadfast, but will Navarro crack under the emotional blackmail being put upon him?
As an actor, Navarro hasn't yet dropped all his silent film mannerisms, but here he creates an honorable and likable character who tries to do the right thing when there is no easy, or even clear, right thing to do. He's an appealing leading man.
Evans had already adjusted her acting style to talking pictures, making her portrayal of a woman who cares about love not race sincere and natural. She also delivers one of the money lines of the movie with powerful conviction:
"I'm a woman in love, that's what I am for the first time in my life, and I'll not allow any stupid prejudices to rob me of my happiness."
Son of India has an early talkie clunkiness to it, plus it is in need of a restoration, yet director Jacques Feyder told his risky-for-the-time story of an inter-racial couple with inspiring confidence.
Today, most of our "risky" movies are not risky at all as they align to the prevailing views and only fight prejudices of the past that are roundly denounced anyway by most people today. Feyder, conversely, was punching at the prevailing views of his time.
Son of India shows that race prejudice wasn't as "locked down" in the past as it is often argued today or a major studio, MGM, wouldn't have produced a picture challenging the accepted ideas on inter-racial couples.
Maybe it didn't go far enough, but that's easy to say today. The movie's existence alone is its value, as major social change doesn't come about in a flash of new thinking; the ideas behind radical change always have a long gestation period. |
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Post by topbilled on Oct 17, 2024 13:48:44 GMT
The print I watched, on the Russian site, was in really good condition. (Unless I wasn't wearing my glasses and it looked fine to me!)
Something ironic always seeps in when you watch a homosexual actor in a role like this. The guy is playing a forbidden love on screen, while in real life he cannot let the world know he is engaging in forbidden same-sex affairs.
One comment I read on the IMDb was rather harsh in tone, saying that Novarro with his brows plucked, fresh facial and turban looked like Joan Crawford!
I agree that Novarro's features are almost a bit too delicate for the role, but I think he still managed to convey a complex character despite any distracting silent film gestures. The one thing that did distract me was his Mexican accent. He is not really trying to sound like someone who grew up in India. This is definitely not a Method acting performance.
Incidentally, I think that if MGM had been able to borrow Tyrone Power (another pretty boy actor in the mold of Valentino and Novarro) again after MARIE ANTOINETTE, they might have used him for a remake of this film. In many ways I was reminded of Power's work in THE RAINS CAME.
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Post by topbilled on Oct 21, 2024 15:18:08 GMT
This film is from 1946.
A secret and a special talent
June Allyson’s teenaged character has a talent for drawing attention to herself in this touching MGM melodrama. She plays a troubled rich girl still dealing with the death of her beloved musician father (Richard Derr) ten years earlier. In extended flashbacks we see that Derr, who had been pressured by his own father to take up a career in banking instead of music, had no aptitude for it. To cover losses on bad investment deals, he embezzled funds. On the night before he was to be found out and arrested, he killed himself. The word suicide is only mentioned once in the script, and not until more than halfway into the story.
It’s a profound event that has a lasting effect on not just his daughter (Allyson) but his son (Robert Sterling) and devoted wife (Claudette Colbert). In most respects, this is Colbert’s picture. The actress was freelancing after 15 years at Paramount. She was now essaying more matronly roles, which she began doing a short time earlier, as mother to Jennifer Jones and Shirley Temple in SINCE YOU WENT AWAY.
Colbert’s costar from that earlier film, Lionel Barrymore, plays the family’s shrink. He convinces Colbert to take the kids, now almost grown, from New York City back to their farm in New England where Derr had ended everything.
Barrymore, in what is merely just a facsimile of his Dr. Gillespie role from the Dr. Kildare series, is a no-nonsense tough-talking analyst. He thinks that if Colbert and her brood return to the farm they will finally put the past into perspective. Of course, several things need to be worked out.
One of these issues involves Derr’s best friend (Walter Pidgeon) who had always carried a torch for Colbert. In addition to the suicide, Colbert had taken the kids to the city to avoid gossip by locals about a supposed love affair between her and Pidgeon.
This point is revisited later when Allyson is finally told the truth about the cause of her father’s death, that it was not actually a heart attack. She also assumes that Colbert’s infidelity drove her dear old dad to jump off a cliff.
She is wrong, for Colbert was always faithful; and afterward, Colbert built a flourishing career as a realtor to continue supporting Allyson and Sterling, as well as to pay off the people Derr swindled.
It’s interesting to see Colbert do so well in a saintly mother role. She is the same performer who made a name for herself in the 1930s as Cleopatra and as an accused witch in MAID OF SALEM. While Colbert is a fantastic dramatic actress, she sometimes seems more comfortable with comedy. She does take to playfulness in several scenes with Pidgeon, which are nicely played. A raucous little dance number is a delight to watch.
The final sequence where Allyson’s character decides to take a cue from her deceased father and jump to her death as well, contains very emotional scenes. I did have tears in my eyes when Colbert saved her along the edge of the cliff. Somehow, despite all the melodrama and angst, this family will have a happy ending. And thank goodness. I don’t think my heart could’ve taken an unhappy conclusion.
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Post by topbilled on Nov 2, 2024 15:36:54 GMT
This film is from 1943.
What everyone says after
For those used to seeing Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy in comedies, the somber tone of this story might be a bit of an adjustment. It’s still a worthwhile film to watch. Hepburn has a lot of emoting to do as the widow of a well-loved man (maybe he was too loved?). It’s never said what the late Mr. Forrest’s greatest achievements were in business or the world of politics, but he made a powerful impression on many.
There are lines about hero worship and people idolizing a dead man. Whenever the writer is stuck on how to convey Forrest as a figure from beyond the grave, characters suddenly lapse into speeches about how wonderful he was and everything he did for the masses. Forrest is a Christ figure they deify incessantly at the beginning, then eventually demonize before all is said and done.
The best casting in the picture seems to be a real Forrest– Forrest Tucker– as Hepburn’s moody cousin. He’s handsome and mysterious. One wonders if Forest Tucker was director George Cukor’s mentee (read that as you like), but he does give a convincing performance. The other assignments are handled with equal skill. I particularly like Donald Meek as an inn proprietor who knows everyone’s business B.F. (Before Forrest) and A.F. (After Forrest). Meek gives his part just the right amount of shrewdness.
KEEPER OF THE FLAME is a thought provoking picture that seems in several ways to be Metro’s version of CITIZEN KANE. But there is no sled in this one. It’s not about a dying man’s last words. It’s about what everyone says after he’s gone.
The death of Hepburn’s character near the end seems a little too much and is obviously meant to increase the tragedy. And the coda where we learn Tracy wrote her life story instead of her husband’s story feels rushed if not appropriately ironic. Hepburn starts out as the title character, the original keeper of the flame; but Tracy becomes the title character at the end, the new keeper of the flame.
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Post by topbilled on Nov 6, 2024 13:48:06 GMT
This neglected film is from 1958.
Take him to the money
In some ways the plot for this one has been done to death. But that’s not exactly a mark against the film, since many standard western stories are repeated in movies and on television. It only matters if the version seen is able to resonate strongly with its intended audience.
The intended audience for THE LAW AND JAKE WADE? Probably conservative middle-aged moviegoers who were looking for a night out, while a babysitter looked after the kids. It had to be familiar in terms of the western storytelling conventions applied and the tropes used, but different than the usual western TV fare that could be seen at home on the tube for free.
Here, MGM puts its aging matinee idol Robert Taylor in some spectacular outdoor settings, filmed in striking Metrocolor. The studio is also using CinemaScope, to give the drama a widescreen feel that television in the late 50s couldn’t replicate.
Taylor is joined by costar Richard Widmark, known for his baddie portrayals in noir and other westerns at Fox. Once again Widmark is typecast in the villain role, a true Achilles heel for Taylor’s character if ever there was one one.
Years ago, the two men were in on a robbery together. Taylor served time and reformed. But Widmark’s still up to his old crimes and currently rotting in a jail cell. Taylor is so reformed at this point in time, he is now a marshal! He’s also married to a pretty woman (Patricia Owens).
As the film gets underway, Widmark appeals to Taylor to help him escape, since he claims Taylor owes him. Taylor reluctantly agrees to this, against his better judgment. But Widmark’s getaway will not be all; he wants to know where the money they took years ago is now buried. It’s not enough for Widmark to evade justice, but he intends to be a wealthy man while living as a fugitive. He wants the twenty grand, and he wants it now. In order to force Taylor’s hand in taking him where the loot’s stashed, Widmark and his gang kidnap Taylor’s wife.
Directed by John Sturges, the production’s exteriors have been lensed on location in the High Sierras.
The other scenes, recorded at a studio backlot, use some of the same sets glimpsed in Sturges’ earlier hit for MGM, BAD DAY AT BLACK ROCK. Despite different dramatic beats, THE LAW AND JAKE WADE has a slightly derivative feel to it.
Richard Widmark is prone to hammy acting as is the case in so many of his cinematic assignments, but he is always entertaining to watch. And it must be said that Widmark is a perfect foil to Robert Taylor here, since Taylor’s cool by-the-book style is totally at odds with the way Widmark wildly approaches a scenario and the overall material. As for their characters’ relationship as frenemies, it’s never fully explained why Taylor puts up with Widmark.
Or why he’d want to go back in the last scene and not just let him die alone. In fact the final shoot-out seems contrived and wholly unnecessary, except for the point of having one man “win” over the other; and giving the audience a climactic ending. I suppose in that regard, it does work. The film, one of Taylor’s last ‘A’ pictures at Metro, did turn a profit.
Taylor appears to have been battling a cold or bronchitis, and his line deliveries are a bit congested in some scenes. I wouldn’t mind it if there had been a line of dialogue referencing it, but I suppose we cannot have a western hero “sick” in any way. I give the film a score of 8 out of 10. It has some sturdy elements for fans of the genre and these stars to enjoy, but it’s far from being the type of classic it could and should have been.
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Post by topbilled on Nov 12, 2024 14:40:09 GMT
This film is from 1955.
Learning environment
In education there is a phrase that gets bandied about by teachers and administrators. It’s the phrase ‘learning environment.’ As we see in this mid-50s social message drama from MGM the phrase doesn’t necessarily apply to the knowledge gained inside a school. For delinquent kids seem to learn just as much about life outside these walls, and so does a neophyte English instructor (Glenn Ford).
The script is based on Evan Hunter’s bestselling book. It is clear that Hunter, who only lasted a short time working at a secondary school, knew very little about educating youth. There are so many inaccuracies and discrepancies in the story one has to wonder if it’s because MGM felt the need to ramp up the melodrama and add in contrived situations. Or if it is because Hunter and writer-director Richard Brooks didn't spend a considerable amount of time in a real classroom, and were not properly schooled on how it actually is working with adolescents.
The first thing that strikes a false note is how Ford’s character gets hired in the first place. He has a brief chat with the principal (John Hoyt) who decides that since Ford can be heard at the back of a room, he will suffice. There are no reference checks, no filling in tax forms or other paperwork with a district human resources department, just welcome aboard and go to the staff lounge to meet the other faculty. I am sure that in 1955, there were trainings and orientations.
Ford’s character isn’t the only one who’s just been hired. There is a well-meaning math teacher (Richard Kiley) who is not said to have a wife or girlfriend and is possibly gay. Kiley’s character seems to enjoy getting drunk with Ford after classes end.
Also, we have a sexy female instructor (Margaret Hayes) whom I don’t recall what it is she teaches exactly. But what she teaches doesn’t matter, what matters is the lesson a boy at the school tries to teach her inside the library one afternoon.
Not to spend too much time on Hayes’ subplot, but I would think if there was an attempted rate on campus, parents and community advocates would be notified and seen getting involved. Not everyone in this environment would turn a blind eye. Also, I don’t think Hayes’ character would be right back to work the next day; she’d need a few days to regroup; probably meet a counselor and consult with a union rep. (Teachers unions go all the way back to 1957). She’d most likely take a leave of absence to decide if she’s willing to stay with the district, and maybe request to be transferred to another school.
Of course none of that can happen because the scenarists want to keep her around to generate additional melodrama re: an implied tawdry affair between her character and Ford’s, which gets back to Ford’s wife (Anne Francis). As for Francis, her character is one-dimensional and disappears for large chunks of the narrative.
She is supposed to be pregnant, but she never has morning sickness. There aren’t any other physical signs she is expecting. When she has the baby, off-camera, we never even see her with the baby on screen. Her main function is just to be the stereotypical housewife supporting her breadwinner husband.
Other implausibilities derail the script, despite the message the filmmakers are trying to convey. Even in the mid-1950s, new instructors would be given advice and suggestions. For example, a seasoned veteran teacher would probably function as a sort of mentor, to help go over lesson plans and organize materials.
The principal himself would be popping in and out of the classrooms to evaluate instruction and check on the teachers' rapport with the kids. A big deal is made about Sidney Poitier’s character being a leader. There is no way the principal wouldn’t be doing period checks to see what he and the other kids are up to, if they are learning the curriculum.
The fact that Ford and Kiley are left on their own with the kids all the time is highly unrealistic. Most importantly, this is an academic institution with a group of underperforming students. Would a first-year teacher be on his own the whole time trying to figure out how to teach them? No.
Twenty years later ABC-TV’s sitcom Welcome Back Kotter hit the airwaves with Gabe Kaplan playing an English instructor at an inter-city school. Kaplan’s Kotter was an obvious nod (or ripoff, depending on your point of view) to Ford’s character in BLACKBOARD JUNGLE. In the MGM film, the kids are out-and-out delinquents; Vic Morrow plays a punk who is truly dangerous and probably borderline psychotic.
The kids in ABC’s sitcom, known affectionately as Sweathogs, initially had delinquent type characteristics. But since it was a sitcom and since the network wasn’t about to deal with censorship issues and complaints from PTA groups, the kids’ antics became increasingly silly and comedic. They did not really pose any serious threat to Kotter or the other staff. They were just kids in a remedial learning environment.
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Post by topbilled on Nov 19, 2024 15:06:08 GMT
This neglected film is from 1931.
Up for election
Watching this MGM comedy is a window into the past, but I think it still says a lot about modern-day politics. Considering we’ve just finished an election season, it’s easy to see that even though some things have changed, quite a few things have remained the same. In this story a corrupt official is up for re-election (sound familiar?).
Female voters have decided they will prevent the incumbent mayor from retaining office, since he is in league with the mob. As a result, they propose to put one of their own on the ticket. Yes, that means a woman. Marie Dressler’s character is hardly cut out for the job, since she’s more than a bit rough around the edges— and that’s putting it mildly— but she will be better than the alternative.
After Dressler’s candidacy is declared, it becomes a matter of how her campaign will be run. Assisting her in these efforts is her best friend and housemate (Polly Moran), who initially was keen on running for mayor herself. But Moran concedes that Dressler has the gumption to go the distance and organizes the other ladies to get behind Dressler and push her on towards victory.
There are a few proverbial flies in the ointment. First, Dressler’s daughter (Karen Morley) is secretly involved with a guy (William Bakewell) who used to be on the mob’s payroll, but has decided to go straight. When news of this gets out, it is feared the scandal will hurt Dressler’s chances at the polls. But the women are still in support of her campaign, while Dressler supports Morley.
The second main issue, which is presented rather farcically, is that the local men are not exactly in favor of Dressler winning. The men will vote for the incumbent and plan to spend their earnings without giving the wives anything, if Dressler doesn’t bow out. Such is the state of relations and economics between men and women in 1931.
Of course, Dressler and Moran and their friends will not kowtow to the attempts of the men to sway the election. They end up going on strike and marching through the community, causing quite an uproar. Eventually everyone comes to their senses, and they cast their ballots as they should, with Dressler emerging victorious on election day.
MGM put Dressler and Moran in several high octane comedy vehicles in the early 1930s. Most of these were hits with audiences who liked seeing them get involved in various scrapes. In a way, they were a forerunner to Lucy and Ethel, or Laverne and Shirley, on TV. When Dressler passed away in 1934, Moran moved over to Republic Pictures where she was cast in similar projects with Alison Skipworth, who was a bit more refined.
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Post by Fading Fast on Nov 19, 2024 16:27:19 GMT
Politics from 1931 with Marie Dressler, Poly Moran, Karen Morley and Roscoe Ates
"I couldn't do it... I don't know a thing about politics... I have all my preserving to do."
If Hallmark and Frank Capra teamed up to make a low-budget short movie with early 1930s sui generis star Marie Dressler, Politics would be the result. It's silly and predictable almost from the first frame, but it's also perfect Depression-Era movie comfort food.
Dressler, in her sixties, built like a refrigerator and with thyroiditis eyes, was a big star for MGM until her death in 1934 at the age of sixty-five. Dressler's acting brand – a combination of kindness, smarts, caring, and strength – struck a chord with struggling audiences.
Here, teamed up with her regular sidekick Polly Moran, Dressler plays a widowed housewife. After a friend of Dressler is shot in a gang-style rub-out at a speakeasy, Dressler confronts the current mayor at a reelection rally.
When the slick male mayor tries to rudely brush Dressler off, the women in the audience, spurred on by Moran, spontaneously nominate Dressler for mayor. Dressler initially demures; as noted in the quote at the top, she has to get her preserving done.
That is Dressler's character in a nutshell: She's just a regular woman who is not personally ambitious, but finally accepts the nomination so she can root out corruption. It's America's Founding Fathers' vision of the average citizen serving for a time in government.
The story gets complicated, though, because Dressler's daughter, played by Karen Morley, is dating a young man in a gang. Because he wants out of the gang, he was the actual target during the same rub-out where Dressler's friend's daughter was killed.
Morley then hides her wounded boyfriend in Dressler's attic as he's afraid he'll be implicated in the murder if the police find out he was there. Of course, if this comes out, it would destroy Dressler's chance of becoming mayor.
All of this is handled in a lighthearted manner with the theme being women – fed up with the poor way men have been handling politics – taking matters into their own hands. There's a strong thread of 1930s proto-feminism woven throughout.
When the men, almost all portrayed as stupid and bullying, refuse to vote for Dressler and even try to break up one of her rallies, the women respond by going on "strike:" no cooking, cleaning or nooky. It is Capraesque cartoonish good versus bad.
Thrown into the mix is an offensive to our modern ears character, the stuttering husband of Moran, played by Roscoe Ates. His speech impediment is played for laughs, but his entire character simply grates today.
If you are new to this style of movie, then the ending might surprise you, but regular fans know that after all the secrets spill out and all hope looks lost, things will work out for Dressler and the young lovers. It's a Hallmark-Capra mashup.
It's mainly Dressler, though, who makes the picture a success. She's a comedic genius whose timing is incredible, and she's simply likable. While she looks like an unmade bed, you love her because she's funny, kind and well meaning.
She knows most of the people around her are stupid, lazy or selfish, but she is forgiving in a genuine way. Dressler simply accepts people's faults and looks for the good in them. She also takes on too much, but soldiers on. She's who you want to be on your best day.
Moran, Dressler's foil, is a bit cartoonish - her emotions are all over the place and her character is written in an inconsistent fashion - but she has undeniable screen chemistry with Dressler.
The other joy in this one is pretty Morley. She, like her mother, has a brain, but like many teenagers makes some poor decisions. Still, she conveys her mother's character; you know she'll get smarter with experience and, heck, you just want her romance to work out.
Taken seriously, Politics doesn't work. But go in with a fun and forgiving attitude, and it is an enjoyable quick hit of a quirky blend of homespun politics, slapstick comedy, and romance.
Today, movies like these have their politics amped way up to make you angry, or they are shuffled off to the land of treacly, made-for-TV cable movies. But in the 1930s, driven by one atypical star, nice movies that blended politics, kindness, and romance enjoyed a brief vogue. |
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