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Post by topbilled on Apr 6, 2023 14:21:59 GMT
This neglected film is from 1948.
Hearts and money
This could just as easily be called THE AFFAIRS OF CARMEN or THE SCAMS OF CARMEN since our title character (Rita Hayworth) spends her life stealing hearts and stealing money. The one thing she wouldn’t take, even if handed to her on a silver platter, is decency. No self-respecting gypsy woman needs to be decent, and she clings to her amoral and cunning ways as long as she can.
There’s an interesting scene in the first third of the movie where an old crone (Margaret Wycherly) sees death in the cards. She says Carmen will die at the hands of a man she loves. Carmen shrugs it off and replies that sooner or later we all must die, and she can think of no greater way to die than by love.
Certainly the film’s script and performances rely heavily on stereotypes about gypsy folk. And even though Miss Hayworth is hemmed in by the writers’ idea of how this girl is nothing more than a feisty hellcat, she does strive to go beyond the stereotype.
She fleshes out some of the struggles that the character faces, never fully being able to trust a man and always trying to assert her own independence in a male-dominated world. I am sure Hayworth was tapping into her own emotions about her relationship with her father Eduardo Cansino; her marriage to Orson Welles; and the up-and-down nature of being under contract to Harry Cohn.
As a result of seeing how she depicts these contradictions on screen, we can’t help but be drawn in. We don’t fully sympathize with the character, but we seem to understand what motivates her behavior even if we cannot excuse it.
Glenn Ford, who had previously costarred with Miss Hayworth two years earlier in GILDA, is (mis)cast as the Spanish soldier who falls for Carmen. Their unusual courtship at the beginning of the film is quite jovial and fun to watch. But things turn serious, when it is learned that his colonel (Arnold Moss) covets the woman.
Swords are drawn, and during the ensuing ruckus, Hayworth trips Moss. This causes him to fall and be impaled on Ford’s sword. Since he has killed a superior officer and will certainly face imprisonment, Ford decides to go on the run with Hayworth.
They leave Seville and head to the mountains. Much of the second portion of our story is filmed on location in the Lone Pine area in southern California, a place where many Hollywood westerns and adventure yarns have been shot.
We find out that Hayworth is married to a bandit played by Victor Jory. They’ve been united in unholy matrimony since she was twelve! Ford is heartbroken and jealous to learn about his lover’s past, and before long he is at odds with Jory who like the colonel back in Seville, challenges him to a duel. During their fight, Jory falls down the side of the mountain and dies. Now Ford has two deaths on his hands.
He soon marries the tempestuous female and takes over as the lead bandit of the gypsies. Personally, I don’t think Mr. Ford is well-suited to this type of role since he lacks the gravitas to be convincing as a hardened man who will commit crime after crime for the woman he loves.
Ford and Hayworth are an attractive couple in this picture and they share considerable chemistry. But Ford seems less mature than her, and he doesn’t quite pull off some of the most dramatic scenes.
Studio advertising tells audiences this is not the famed opera of Carmen but a dramatic version of a life story. In that regard, it works. There are some nice musical numbers where Miss Hayworth dances to lively flamenco music. She’s captivating in these scenes, and I am sure she cast her bewitching spell on many viewers. This was the first of several productions the actress made under her own production banner.
But it was another four years before she returned to the screen, since she would marry Prince Aly Khan in 1949. It seems fitting that a woman as provocative and alluring as this would catch the eye of royalty and become Hollywood’s first real princess.
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Post by topbilled on Apr 13, 2023 14:12:52 GMT
This neglected film is from 1950.
Precious cargo
Brod Crawford is fresh off his Oscar win, so he gets top billing in CARGO TO CAPETOWN but he’s really handling a second lead role. The main character is played by John Ireland who is third-billed. Ireland is perfectly cast as a no-nonsense captain who is hired to complete a voyage hauling barrels of oil to Cape Town.
He will be sailing through patches of rough weather, so he needs to assemble a crew of dependable men, and it is essential that he find a good engineer. When he runs into his old pal Crawford at a waterfront bar, it looks as if his problems may be solved.
Crawford was a severe alcoholic in real life, and he’s playing a character with great fondness for booze. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was actually drunk in many of these scenes…especially the part where he tumbles up, not down, a flight of steps trying to board the Mokara vessel at the beginning of the story. Lucky for him, Mr. Ireland is there to pick him up more than once.
The leading lady in this picture is Ellen Drew who was starting to look middle aged by this point of her career. But of course, she is still glamorous. However, it does require a suspension of disbelief when she is caught in a typhoon on the deck of the ship and manages to keep her hair almost perfectly styled. That’s Hollywood for you.
The heart of the story is a romance drama in which Ireland and Crawford both get tangled up in a love triangle with Miss Drew. Crawford is planning to stay on land, because he’s supposed to marry Drew. But since he is needed to work on Ireland’s ship, he has been shanghaied. When Drew finds out Ireland kidnapped her fiance, she hurries on to the ship before it leaves the Dutch East Indies to reclaim Crawford and take him home. She pulls a gun on Ireland to let him know she means business.
Of course he overpowers her, and she ends up remaining on board for the whole journey. Complicating matters is the fact that Drew was once involved with Ireland and things went south. She still has feelings for the guy, but she’s committed to Crawford who is in the dark about her past. It is implied she was a prostitute.
There’s an interesting subplot involving an orphan boy (Robert Espinoza) who is befriended by Ireland. Despite his inexperience, he gets a job assisting the men while they’re at sea. The boy’s dream is to become a captain one day like Ireland. When the typhoon hits, the kid gets tossed around on the deck. As the storm rages, he ends up falling below, where barrels of oil have come loose and roll on top of him. He is severely injured and his bandaged leg will require an operation.
This causes Ireland to make a decision to stray off course to a nearby island where a doctor can be sought to help the boy. But the youngster is afraid this will mean the ship won’t make it to South Africa on schedule, so he tries to kill himself. He is prevented from committing suicide, but dies a short time later anyway. Heavy stuff!
While all of this is going on in Ireland’s quarters, Crawford is down below and learns from a crew member (Ted de Corsia) that Ireland and Drew share a past. Crawford, in between drinks, starts to panic that Drew will choose Ireland over him. He confronts Ireland who insists that what he and the woman had is over and there’s no going back.
Meanwhile there are other mishaps that occur. One incident involves a crew member who nearly dies after falling into a vat of oil. Ireland and de Corsia pull the man out, but then de Corsia, who has issues of his own, tries to kill Ireland and winds up in the brig awaiting trial.
At the same time Crawford decides to rush his marriage to Drew, which Ireland will officiate as captain. They couple do exchange vows, but it’s clear Drew is already regretting her decision. She doesn’t have time to dwell on the mistake, though, when a fire breaks out. It is not a typical fire, since with all that oil stored below, the ship is now a powder keg waiting to explode.
In a climatic sequence, Ireland and Crawford put on fire suits and head into the blaze to get at the root of the problem. It looks like Crawford will probably die to facilitate a happy ending for Ireland and Drew, but he doesn’t. However, he is critically injured and while recovering has time to reconsider his marriage. As the Mokara pulls into the harbor at Cape Town, Crawford does the honorable thing and tells Drew he is going to give her an annulment so she can be with Ireland, since she loves him more. Crawford will be able to console himself with some cheap liquor.
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Post by Fading Fast on Apr 13, 2023 14:57:33 GMT
"But of course, she is still glamorous. However, it does require a suspension of disbelief when she is caught in a typhoon on the deck of the ship and manages to keep her hair almost perfectly styled. That’s Hollywood for you."
LOL
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Post by topbilled on Apr 19, 2023 14:59:35 GMT
This neglected film is from 1939.
Energetic crime comedy
This energetic crime comedy covers a lot of ground in 66 minutes. It is a Columbia programmer based on a short story by writer George Bradshaw called ‘Old Mrs. Leonard and the Machine Guns.’ Oscar winner Fay Bainter, known more for her work in melodramas like JEZEBEL, WHITE BANNERS and MAKE WAY FOR TOMORROW, plays eccentric Mrs. Leonard.
She is given appropriate ‘old age’ make-up, a white wig and various other accessories to convince us she’s a society lady past her prime. However, she is one who still has a lot of life left in her.
The premise is certainly wacky. Bainter’s character learns she is getting charged an extra tax on her dry cleaning bill, and she aims to get to the bottom of it. She learns that a protection racket run by the mob is responsible for the tax, and that several city officials including the mayor may be in on the take.
Not one to stand idly by and allow this to happen, Bainter decides action is necessary…though it is hardly the type of action most people would take. She hires a nice hood (Warren Hymer) she knows to organize a band of men to go after the racketeers and put a stop to the corruption. I guess it’s an amusing way of fighting fire with fire, with shades of Robin Hood thrown in.
Costarring alongside Miss Bainter is Ida Lupino, who was on the verge of signing a long-term contract with Warner Brothers. Lupino is cast as a chick who’s involved with Bainter’s son (Lee Bowman), just as incensed over the injustices in their fair city…so she helps Bainter by framing a crooked high-ranking politician. Again, not ordinary behavior from a dignified lady, but hey it’s a comedy, and at least this isn’t boring.
Some of the story gets more outlandish as we go along. Eventually, Bainter masterminds a bank robbery to reclaim money that should go back to the merchants that were overpaying for protection. At one point Bainter winds up in jail, but we know she won’t remain behind bars for long or else there won’t be a happy ending.
In a way this assignment was a warm-up for some of Bainter’s comic scenes opposite Danny Kaye. She would later play his mother in THE SECRET LIFE OF WALTER MITTY.
Though she fared better with dramatic material, the actress did have a flair for comedy and she’s having a field day in this farce. She would team up with Lupino eight years later for Warners’ rural drama DEEP VALLEY, and that time they played mother and daughter.
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Post by jamesjazzguitar on Apr 19, 2023 15:15:29 GMT
The Lady and the Mob is a favorite of mine. Great to see Fay Bainter doing comedy as well as Ida Lupino. 1939 was a breakout year for Lupino. She was in this Columbia film, then in the Fox film The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (before the serial moved to Universal), and she ended the year with The Light That Failed, a Paramount film.
This led to Lupino being signed to a long term 7-year contact with Warner Bros. with the first film under this contact being the remake of Bordertown; They Drive By Night.
As we know Bainter would have a very long career. In her last film, The Children's Hour she gave a great performance and was again nominated for Best supporting actress. I believe she is the only actress to be nominated for Best Actress (for White Banners in 1938) and then to win the next year for Best supporting actress (for Jezebel, where Bette Davis won for best actress, and I believe each really helped each other get both awards for the same film).
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Post by topbilled on Apr 19, 2023 15:36:50 GMT
Per MovieCollector's database, THE LADY AND THE MOB hasn't aired on TCM since 2013.
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Post by jamesjazzguitar on Apr 19, 2023 23:41:35 GMT
Per MovieCollector's database, THE LADY AND THE MOB hasn't aired on TCM since 2013.
I have seen the film on Get-TV a few times in the last few years. |
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Post by topbilled on May 5, 2023 15:07:07 GMT
This neglected film is from 1934.
Love is the cause of jealousy
Dialogue in the movie tells us love is the cause of jealousy. Since George Murphy’s character has a jealous streak a mile wide, he must really be in love with pretty Nancy Carroll. In addition to all of this love and jealous behavior, Murphy exhibits quite a temper.
He knows how to knock the stuffing out of other men…he does it for a living, since he’s a professional boxer. However, he starts to lose his cool outside the ring, and one evening he slugs Carroll’s rich boss (Donald Cook). He is under the impression that Cook, who’s regarded as a player, is making Carroll work late hours in order to put the moves on her.
When Murphy decks Cook, it is witnessed by reporters. So it doesn’t take long for the incident to find its way into the local papers. Murphy’s temper has become legendary. Carroll, not able to handle the stress from their relationship, gives an engagement ring back to Murphy. This only intensifies his hatred against Cook.
All of these early scenes set the proverbial stage for more trouble that will occur. Another altercation between Murphy and Cook takes place, but on this fateful occasion, Murphy's rage against Cook goes too far. It isn’t murder, is it? Murphy’s career now appears to be over; everything he’s been working towards is lost.
Carroll, still in love with the lug, ends up taking the blame. Watching the film, a viewer will figure she’s either dumb or just too noble and self-sacrificing. We’re supposed to sympathize with her situation.
While the plot is quite unrealistic in spots, the performances of the two leads are quite good. They ground the melodrama with a certain degree of honesty and truth. Nancy Carroll, who reminds me of another popular precode actress named Helen Twelvetrees, has a soulful way of emoting. Her expressions feel authentic.
As for George Murphy, he’s just starting out here. But it’s easy to see why he became a star. There’s a boyish wholesomeness that he projects on screen, conveying a very assured brand of masculinity. He’s not the cocky type, and I think most actors in this sort of role would probably play up the alpha male aspects of the character. But Murphy doesn’t resort to such obviousness. He’s genuine, confident, and he seems to be at ease with his fellow cast. Even though he’s playing a jerk!
The end of the film seems a bit off, as if the script had been approved before the production code took affect. But then, because of new restrictions placed on studio filmmaking and the need for a happy ending, our couple somehow overcomes the gargantuan odds against them.
The copy I watched was pretty thrashed, as if it had taken a few beatings from Murphy’s fist. I’m jealous of moviegoers who saw a nice looking print in 1934.
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Post by Fading Fast on May 5, 2023 15:47:02 GMT
Jealousy from 1934 with George Murphy, Nancy Carroll and Donald Cook
The first rule of marriage is to not marry an idiot. Jealousy is almost singularly about, well, jealousy. Yet, had Nancy Carroll's sweet and kind character simply not married an idiot, none of the bad things that happen to her in Jealousy would have happened.
Carroll plays a young secretary with a nice boss, played by Donald Cook. She, also, is all but engaged to a heavyweight boxer played by George Murphy, who has a violent streak of jealousy.
Murphy directs most of his jealousy toward Cook, even though Cook has not behaved inappropriately in any way toward Carroll. But part of a jealous rage is irrationality.
After Murphy has a few flair-ups of jealous rage - one that cost him an important boxing match - Carroll leaves him. Unfortunately though, after his passionate promises to no longer be jealous, she agrees to marry him.
Now married, they are struggling financially, in part because Murphy is also irresponsible with money - this guy has no impulse control. Carroll, by necessity, goes back to work for Cook, but knowing how jealous her husband can get, she lies to him about who her boss is.
It, of course, all blows up one night when Murphy finds Cook and Carroll working together. It's still innocent, but try telling that to a blinded-with-rage Murphy.
From here the story explodes into a fight between Murphy and Cook (as if one punch from a heavyweight boxer wouldn't knock Cook out), a struggle for a gun, shots, Cook apparently dead on the floor, Murphy fleeing the scene and Carroll charged with murder. What a mess.
The movie simply gets bizzare from here with an amnesia angle, a crazy lawyer summation at trial, a death row walk and, then, a "Dallas (the 1970s TV show) shower scene style" retconning of the entire movie.
The last twist almost certainly happened because the movie was made as a pre-code, but was released after the Motion Picture Production Code was being strictly enforced, so to save the picture, the producer and director had to change the entire ending.
Jealousy, the movie, does a good job showing that jealousy, the emotion, can be destructive, especially as it was portrayed in the non-altered version of the story.
The problem is Murphy's character is a complete idiot whom Carroll - a Janet Gaynor doppelganger - should have walked away from after seeing a bout or two of his rage. To make things even easier for her, she had a very nice and kind man, Cook, in love with her.
But no, for just over an hour of runtime, we have to watch Murphy being a violent idiot and Carroll being a kind numbskull. At some point, you want to tell Cook to move on and find a woman who isn't an idiot married to a violent maniac.
Jealousy lacks any nuance to its obvious message, "jealousy is bad," as a more-interesting picture would have given Murphy some reason to be jealous, like if Cook and Carroll had been even innocently flirting.
Murphy, then, wouldn't come off as a two-dimensional violent dunce and all three characters would have a way to learn and grow. As written, it's too black and white, which makes it difficult to believe.
Jealousy is in desperate need of restoration, but it's not hard to see why no one is anxious to spend the significant amount of money that requires, as the movie, other than it being a part of movie history, lacks a compelling reason to be saved.
Then again, any movie that reminds people to not marry an idiot might be worth saving. |
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Post by topbilled on May 5, 2023 16:23:42 GMT
Jealousy lacks any nuance to its obvious message, "jealousy is bad," as a more-interesting picture would have given Murphy some reason to be jealous, like if Cook and Carroll had been even innocently flirting.
Murphy, then, wouldn't come off as a two-dimensional violent dunce and all three characters would have a way to learn and grow. As written, it's too black and white, which makes it difficult to believe.
I think there's a better story here, that the writers failed to dig deep and present. It's really a hybrid of the sports genre with horror, because what we actually have is Murphy as a Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde boxer. But we are given no insights as to why he cannot control his jealousy, what actually fuels the rage.
I would have tacked on a believable backstory, that he had a cheating mother who was killed by a drunken father. So we know he had been exposed to violence as a child, that boxing was supposed to be the way for him to channel his own violent tendencies...yet he still cannot trust Carroll, because his own mother had been untrustworthy. That would've made a much more dynamic motion picture. |
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Post by topbilled on May 22, 2023 14:36:16 GMT
This neglected film is from 1949.
When we had that blackmail trouble
European director Max Ophuls spent a few postwar years in Hollywood, where he worked on five studio pictures. The results varied, but one of his best efforts from this period was THE RECKLESS MOMENT for Columbia. The project teamed him with James Mason, whom he had already directed in another noir thriller, CAUGHT.
Mason costars alongside Joan Bennett, whose husband Walter Wanger served as the producer. Like Ophuls, Mason had just emigrated to America. Meanwhile, Bennett was continuing to freelance in dramas that had her taking direction from European emigres who in addition to Ophuls, included Fritz Lang and Jean Renoir.
THE RECKLESS MOMENT deftly combines formula filmmaking with the flourish of a well-known auteur. A fairly routine plot about blackmail and paranoia is elevated almost to an art form. Mason and Bennett etch vivid portrayals, understanding the characters assigned them are flawed yet still spiritual and deserving of salvation.
It all starts when Bennett’s 17 year old daughter, played by 24 year old Geraldine Brooks, is involved with a man who’s much older than her. The shady boyfriend wants to extort money out of the the family, and if he’s paid what he wants, he’ll leave the teen girl alone. Things go horribly wrong when he shows up at the estate and has a quarrel with Brooks, which results in his accidental death.
There are a few twists. Brooks doesn’t know the guy died at first. And when Bennett discovers the body along the shore the following morning, she assumes her daughter was responsible for the killing, so she disposes of the corpse. After this is taken care of, Bennett then gets a visit from Mason, who has in his possession some letters that Brooks wrote to the deceased man, which would look bad if they wound up with the police.
As I said, it is a somewhat predictable blackmail plot. But what sets this film apart is how Bennett and Mason develop an unusual rapport with one another, while working out how she will pay the five grand expected in exchange for the letters. Bennett’s husband, who remains off camera, is away on business in Europe.
Bennett has trouble scraping up the cash, and Mason is surprisingly patient with her since he’s come to like her. However, Mason has a hard-nosed associate (Roy Roberts) who is pressuring him to wrap up the deal and collect the dough. That backfires, leading to Roberts’ death.
The story’s pacing is quick, with everything squeezed into a compact 82-minutes. The dialogue is not quite rapid-fire in its delivery, but the lines are recited without any pauses, and there are no extra words. Characters get to the point, the scenes accomplish what they need to convey, and we are then on to the next part. Since Ophuls is at the helm, there is a focus on shadowy visuals and a keen sense of time and place. The family’s estate is set on Balboa Island in southern California, and there are plenty of on-location exteriors to add realism.
Bennett’s role could just as easily have been performed by Barbara Stanwyck or Joan Crawford. She is that sort of woman in peril: exquisitely maintained by an absent hubby, perfectly poised and able to successfully negotiate with a criminal element while protecting the home front and retaining her femininity at every turn.
As for Mason, it seems like he is summoning some of the rougher aspects of the character he played in ODD MAN OUT, yet there is a poignant vulnerability. Especially in a scene near the end when he confesses that he was one of five brothers and his mother had hoped he would be a priest, refusing to ever believe he was the bad one. In the end, his reckless lifestyle leads to his demise…but before his time’s up, he returns the incriminating letters to Bennett and assures a happy ending for her and her daughter.
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Post by topbilled on Jun 1, 2023 14:01:06 GMT
This neglected film is from 1933.
Restoring the balance...?
This isn’t so much about a woman’s profession as it is about the woman (Fay Wray) herself. And even then, it’s about the man (Gene Raymond) she marries and her relationship to him and his pride. Specifically, it’s about which one in their marriage has the right to be the main breadwinner.
Since this is a film produced by a man– Harry Cohn– and written by a man– Robert Riskin– we know that the man in the story will be triumphant in the end.
Until we get to the part where the wife surrenders her career, there are some fine scenes. Mostly, I enjoyed those moments where she is depicted as a shrewd and cunning defense attorney. She is not above playing dirty in court to win against big boy prosecutors. She is seen as an attractive woman with a brain.
Columbia remade the story in 1938 as THE LADY OBJECTS. That time Gloria Stuart played the lead role. Miss Stuart is almost too glamorous, and I would believe her as a model not a high-powered lawyer. Wray’s performance has more gravitas.
As for Mr. Raymond’s efforts, he has a thankless lead role that is basically a supporting role until the last act. He projects the right amount of boyish charm and sex appeal, but he’s made to “suffer.” He is stuck playing a husband on the sidelines, whose masculinity and self-worth is overshadowed by his wife’s success.
Raymond’s character is a football hero turned architect, who happens to sing on the side. But in the remake, the husband is turned into a full-fledged singer, and there’s more emphasis on music.
What I like about the story is the idea that the husband and wife are college graduates, and they intend to use their degrees. In this case, both become part of the working world and get a chance to shine, though the woman’s achievements are made to take a backseat to her husband’s achievements.
Since ANN CARVER’S PROFESSION is set in late 1932 and was shot in early 1933, several precode elements are present. For example, there is a trial involving a shocking interracial relationship (cut from the remake due to the production code).
We also see seductive women paraded through court. And there’s a scandalous death where the husband has been mixed up with a chick of ill-repute (Claire Dodd). Of course, his wife will defend him.
But all of this is mere window dressing to get to the big display at the end…where Miss Wray’s character stands near the jury box and nobly blames herself for her husband’s misfortunes.
She pleads with the jurors to find her husband not guilty. Then she renounces her legal career so that she can take her proper place inside the home. This action will supposedly restore the balance.
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Post by Fading Fast on Jun 1, 2023 14:13:30 GMT
Ann Carver's Profession from 1933 with Fay Wray and Gene Raymond
You have to marvel at fate. In the 1930s, talented actress Fay Wray played a variety of interesting and engaging characters, but she will always be known for having flirted with one famous furry beast. There are worse things than being immortalized for your role in a cinematic classic like King Kong, but still, Ms. Wray's career was about more than just one bad date.
In Ann Carver's Profession, Ms. Wray displays passion, talent and screen presence. It doesn't hurt that she is arrestingly beautiful, but she's not coasting on her looks. Like her co-star, Gene Raymond, her thoughtful performance rises above the melodrama of the material.
Ms. Wray plays the titular Ann Carver, a pretty coed who marries her big-man-on-campus football-hero boyfriend played by Gene Raymond. After graduation, they move to New York where he gets a job as a junior architect, while she, despite having passed the bar, becomes a homemaker.
They are happy but struggling on his small salary until, in a twist that only happens in movies, she all but stumbles into a law career and, in seemingly only months, becomes a celebrity trial lawyer with a corner office.
As the money pours in, the couple moves to a fancy apartment with all the usual luxurious accoutrements. Raymond seems genuinely happy for his wife, but can't help feeling unimportant as his small raises and successes at work appear meaningless next to his wife's outsized achievements.
In the next only-in-a-movie twist, Raymond, desperate to make money to feel more equal to his wife, accepts a lucrative offer to be a singer in a nightclub, an offer made because his college football career still has public currency. Until now, Raymond had tried to downplay his football past as he wanted to succeed on his talent as an architect alone.
Wray, passionately enjoying being a high-profile lawyer and no longer attuned to her husband's emotional struggle, is angry that his "silly" new career will be an embarrassment to her professional reputation.
There's one more really crazy only-in-a-movie climatic twist that leaves Raymond in need of his wife's professional talents to save him. It's ridiculous and forced, but so is the movie's ensuing ending that, disappointingly, seems more like a code-era wrap-up.
Despite covering a lot of ground in seventy minutes, the melodramatic story is handled with surprising nuance owing to smart directing and writing and the talents of the two leads. We see and understand how Wray, over time, becomes insensitive to her husband's predicament as the pressures of her job leave her with less bandwidth for their marriage.
Equally nuanced, Raymond isn't a stereotypical bruised-ego husband, at first, but a man whose self respect is slowly eroded. He is happy for his wife, but after enduring a series of small indignities, you feel him disappearing and desperate to regain some self esteem. It's one of Gene Raymond's most thoughtful performances.
Ann Carver's Profession is a pre-code, not about pre-code movies' favorite subject, sex, but about a woman with a career drive. At times, Wray is a pure Type A personality, while her husband is the, mainly, passive one in the relationship. It's a wonderful pre-code flip on the typical "husband ignores his wife because of his stressful job" story.
Had the movie had the courage of its convictions, it would have ended differently, but still, it's an overall honest look at the challenges faced by a two-career marriage. Despite cultural differences, as to be expected in a nearly ninety-year-old movie, Ann Carver's Profession still has something to say to our modern, mainly, two-career-marriage world. |
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Post by jamesjazzguitar on Jun 1, 2023 15:30:25 GMT
Ann Carver's Profession is yet another pre-code that fails to stick to its convictions but still provides a good message as it relates to a woman in the modern word.
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Post by topbilled on Jun 15, 2023 14:12:06 GMT
This neglected film is from 1931.
The lady evangelist is no dummy
The poster asks if we believe in miracles. Maybe it should ask if we believe in the power of Barbara Stanwyck to take a simple story and elevate it well beyond what any other actress might do in the same role. What she accomplishes on screen is nothing short of miraculous.
It all starts with a fiery and impassioned speech that she gives inside her local church. You see, her father just died a few minutes before, and he was about to deliver his final sermon after being dismissed by the deacon and church council. Stanwyck’s character is not going to let the moment pass without reading the unfinished homily. It will not only give her closure, but just as importantly, a chance to blast this congregation of sinners. In her view, they’re all hypocrites and her father spent years ministering to them, but they never heeded his words.
Of course, this is a very dramatic way to start a motion picture…and we know right off the bat, that we are dealing with a profoundly broken woman whose faith has been shattered. Into her world walks a slick promoter (translation: con artist) played by Sam Hardy who has witnessed her tirade. He thinks he can help her get even with the “good people” of her community by taking her on the road as an evangelist. At first she is not sure it’s the right thing to do, but realizing she has no other options and that she needs to support herself, she agrees to this pact with the devil.
On the road, Stanwyck and Hardy are raking it in with help from a bunch of actors who do their part during evangelical tent shows. Their phony testimonies and fake healings convince the crowds that miracles are taking place. The lady preacher character is supposedly modeled on religious leader Aimee Semple McPherson, who had been popular at this time.
Miss McPherson not only went on tour but also had her own radio program, and she built a megachurch. While not all of this is woven into THE MIRACLE WOMAN, which is based on a Broadway play by Robert Riskin, many elements are incorporated. Especially the spectacles that were staged on the road.
A turning point comes when Stanwyck’s character pulls a man (David Manners) up from the crowd one evening. He is no phony but a war veteran who has lost his vision. Stanwyck forms an instant bond with the sightless man and is able to see into his soul. At the same time, this meeting allows her to start seeing into her own soul, reclaiming her own lost faith.
Years later Mr. Manners said this was his favorite movie of all the ones he made in the 1930s, and it’s easy to see why. He has a very nice rapport with Stanwyck. It’s not all tragedy and despair, since several scenes have him doing an amusing routine as a ventriloquist. He is able to make the lady laugh and forget some of her own troubles, especially one evening when they celebrate her birthday inside his apartment.
The film has some good supporting players. One of them is Beryl Mercer who is on hand as Manners’ landlady. She is a surrogate mother figure for him, and is the one who took him to meet Stanwyck in the first place. There’s a scene where she brings a replica of Stanwyck’s head into the apartment, which is done so he can feel the contours of her face. It’s hokey but nonetheless effective.
The couple’s budding romance builds to a confrontation involving Hardy’s character. He is practicing a form of coercive control as the moneyman and manager of the traveling show. He regards Stanwyck as his meal ticket and he’s not going to let her go. He threatens to turn her into the police for all the scams they’ve been pulling across the country, even though he masterminded them. She realizes that she signed all the key documents of their business enterprise, and she could end up in prison, not him.
The film sort of ends the way it began, with a scene where Stanwyck addresses her congregation. This time she is going to tell them all she’s a phony, she’s the big hypocrite. She is attempting to cleanse her soul. But before she can make a huge confession, the building where she’s preaching catches fire. This sequence is very dramatic, especially when Manners goes into the blaze to save her.
They both survive the fire, and we are told that he’s going to have an operation to restore his eyesight. The last scene is her reading a telegram from him about the procedure, while she’s marching in the streets as a member of the Salvation Army.
Some of the ideas from this film were reworked later for ELMER GANTRY. And while Jean Simmons also gives an impressive performance as the crooked lady evangelist who experiences a transformation, I don’t think it comes anywhere close to the rawness and realness that Stanwyck provides here in this production.
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