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Post by NoShear on Jul 18, 2024 16:58:26 GMT
This neglected film is from 1945.
A marriage of inconvenience in war torn China
Before China became a communist nation, it was trendy for writers to publish novels about traditional Chinese culture, as Pearl S. Buck did several times. It was also trendy for Hollywood screenwriters to adapt her stories or devise similarly themed tales in which the old Chinese way of life was depicted as idyllic but under threat. Here in CHINA SKY, the biggest threat is posed by the Japanese.
Into the mix is an efficient American doctor (played by Ruth Warrick, without the glamorous touches her character had in CITIZEN KANE). Warrick is a well-meaning soul who sacrifices many things to help the Chinese in a village that she now calls a second home. She sacrifices privacy, sleep and many basic necessities— particularly when their are bombings. Oh and she has also been sacrificing love.
Cue handsome Randolph Scott’s entrance. He is a fellow doctor that Warrick has loved for a long time, though she never built up the courage to tell him. He recently went back to the States on a furlough but has returned with a renewed sense of purpose. He’s returned with something else, too: a sexy new wife (Ellen Drew).
At first Warrick kindly welcomes Drew and so do the villagers. But after a while Warrick and some of the others come to resent Drew’s presence, when it is clear that Drew has no intention of staying and plans to whisk Scott away. If Scott weren’t such a fine surgeon and so desperately needed by the people— and by Warrick for her own personal needs— Warrick wouldn’t oppose Drew’s attempts to take off with Scott.
However, Scott has no intention of leaving, which causes Drew to go bonkers and plot her own departure, even though it is too dangerous to go anywhere at this time. There is a good subplot involving a part Korean soldier (Anthony Quinn in one of his many ethnic roles) who deals with a crafty Japanese prisoner (Richard Loo) staying at the clinic due to a medical situation.
While Quinn’s character is certainly wise to the Japanese prisoner, Drew’s character is not. She becomes manipulated by him in sending a message out that she wants to leave, which will signal other Japanese as to Loo’s whereabouts.
Though the film occasionally bogs down into a bunch of romantic mush between Warrick and Scott, and we have Drew as an obstacle to their happiness, the performers do a credible job showing how these people function under pressure in a war torn part of Asia. There is a sensational bombing sequence near the end where Drew’s character makes her final descent into madness and has a spectacular on-screen death.
CHINA SKY doesn’t have the greatest budget in the world but it has decent production values. It also has strong performances from the main and supporting cast, and as such is one of my favorite RKO programmers from this period. Oh, and who doesn’t love a happy romantic ending!
I think of you with M*A*S*H era movies, TopBilled, so this one must have been a treat to watch for you. |
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Post by topbilled on Jul 18, 2024 18:32:09 GMT
It was a treat, NoShear. Interestingly, Randolph Scott gets top billing but he's the least important part of the movie. The women and the supporting male characters own the story.
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Post by topbilled on Jul 31, 2024 13:09:07 GMT
This film is from 1934.
Released from bondage
Hollywood’s original version of Somerset Maugham’s classic story was produced just before the production code was strictly enforced. In fact, RKO’s production was released into theaters during the last week of June 1934– the code took full effect a few days later on July 1st. So while this is technically an example of precode cinema, one can see certain compromises were forced on the story. For example, the main female character, played by Bette Davis, dies of tuberculosis on screen; but in Maugham’s book, the ailment was syphilis.
There are a few different subplots in the book that have been cut from the 1934 film. And it’s just as well, since RKO was not attempting any epic retelling of the tale; just a simplified version of the central ‘love story.’ And we do have to put those words in ‘quotes.’
Producer Pandro Berman was in charge and following his predecessor David Selznick’s lead, he made it into a somewhat glossy high-end literary adaptation. Just like the studio’s production of LITTLE WOMEN a year earlier, the sets and clothing are very detailed. The make-up is first rate, especially as Davis’s trashy waitress character becomes ill. And there are great photographed scenes in terms of lighting and mise-en-scene (frame composition).
Two later remakes were filmed by other studios– one made by Warner Brothers in 1944 (with its release postponed to 1946); and another one made by MGM in the 1960s. But most cinephiles feel this precode version is by far the best.
I will admit that a lot of viewers are more enthralled with Davis’s acting than I am. Don’t get me wrong, I think she does put a lot of thought into her characterization; but she still has a tendency to go a bit overboard. I think this is a good example of an actress trying to prove herself and get an Oscar by pulling out all the stops.
Of course, there’s that one memorable scene which everyone associates with the film. Yes, I know it supposedly put her on the map as a star. But there’s a little too much scenery chewing, and she could have dialed it down and still given a highly effective performance. That’s a minor complaint. She does etch a strong portrait of a troubled woman who causes drama for everyone she meets. And Leslie Howard does well playing her put-upon romantic lead.
I’d like to quote a portion of Pauline Kael’s review. Mainly because I think she expresses something close to how I feel about the picture and about Davis as the ever-impossible Mildred. Kael says specifically:
“Bette Davis had a great slouch in the role of Mildred, the scheming deceitful Cockney waitress who sinks her hooks into the sensitive hero (Howard). Davis makes her role work through sheer will; she doesn’t let it happen, she makes it happen…the other women in the hero’s life are played by lovely young Frances Dee and the unusual, wry Kay Johnson.”
Kael doesn’t mention Alan Hale. I think he gives an underrated performance as one of Davis’s conquests. Though I am glad she talks about Frances Dee.
I think in some ways Frances Dee steals the picture out from Davis, because we want her to be Howard’s reward in the end, for suffering through Davis’s cruel machinations. Dee plays the character we end up rooting for. At least I ended up rooting for her. And of course, it doesn’t hurt that Dee is a conventional beauty playing a likable woman.
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Post by Fading Fast on Jul 31, 2024 15:46:41 GMT
Don't miss TopBilled's outstanding review ⇧, which has a lot of cool inside-Hollywood background. I wrote these ⇩ comments about three years ago. I wish I had given Francis Dee and Kay Johnson some much deserved due as both put in moving and memorable performances.
Of Human Bondage from 1934 with Bette Davis, Leslie Howard, Kay Johnson and Frances Dee
It is painful, truly painful, to watch how horribly cockney waitress Bette Davis treats deeply in love with her and handicapped (club foot) medical student Leslie Howard time and time and time again.
Sure, Howard should have snapped out of it, but the heart sometimes won't stop. Davis, though, isn't using her heart when she continues to twist Howard into knots, sometimes for material gain and, sometimes, more cruelly, just for sport.
When you despise, deeply despise, a character who feels real, something powerful is happening on the screen. Young Bette Davis delivers a tour de force performance as the selfish, merciless, yet also, self-destructive girl from the wrong side of the tracks who almost ruins sensitive and kind medical student Leslie Howard.
Howard's club foot makes him, in the language of the day, a cripple. Shy around women, something clicks in Howard's head and heart when he sees Davis waiting tables.
Her rudeness and indifference to him only fuel his passion more. When she dates another man, it drives him crazy. When she laughs in his face or tells him she has no feelings for him - even mocks him for being a "cripple -" he just absorbs the blows and keeps coming back.
When she goes off with another man, he pines for her even when he finally meets a nice woman who genuinely cares for him. Obsession is not rational.
It gets worse. When the man she went away with impregnates and abandons Davis, Howard ignores his kind girlfriend and supports Davis and her child, despite her still not willing to even date him.
When she, then, leaves him for his best friend and, later, returns discarded, he all but bankrupts himself to help her once again. When she wrecks his apartment and burns the last bonds he has for his medical school tuition (he has to drop out), he seems finally over her, but not really.
Even after all that, and now dating yet another very nice woman, when Davis shows up with tuberculosis, he ignores his new girlfriend to come to Davis' aid once more. It's awful, but oddly believable.
Howard, late in, acknowledges his obsession is without reason, but he can't stop. When his club foot is surgically corrected, it seems like it will be his epiphany moment - he's now no longer a "cripple -" but it isn't.
Based on W. Somerset Maugham novel (good source material doesn't hurt), Of Human Bondage is a brutal portrayal of the destructive power of an unhinge love obsession, especially when the object of that obsession viciously and mercilessly wields that power against its victim. Sure, there's a lesson here: don't become obsessed with a horrible person. Now, tell that to the person who's obsessed and see well it works.
N.B. The scene where Howard is trying to study his medical school book, but all he sees is Bette Davis on the pages is, literally, taken right out of Victor Hugo's 1831's Hunchback of Notre Dame. Almost everything has an antecedent somewhere.
And the famous moment:
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Post by topbilled on Aug 3, 2024 8:01:00 GMT
This neglected film is from 1931.
“I’m sick of being royalty, I want to be a person.”
The main theme conveyed in RKO’s adaptation of Robert Sherwood’s play ‘The Queen’s Husband’ is that monarchs can have human qualities. But most humans will never have the qualities to be monarchs. It’s a cheeky way to look at the extraordinary aspects of royal life when the subjects in a palace may wish to be quite ordinary. In this story, a king and a queen do not always have real freedom; instead, they have noble duties and obligations.
The king’s daughter, a lovely princess played by young Mary Astor, is told in no uncertain terms by her domineering mother (Nance O’Neil) that her duty is to enter into an arranged marriage. The proposed union is with a man (Hugh Trevor) that Astor’s character vehemently dislikes, but a splashy wedding will help solidify power for their fictional European nation among other great European countries. Astor might have gone along with the plan, if she did not already love another man— her father’s handsome secretary (Anthony Bushell).
A considerable part of the story’s charm is that the king (Lowell Sherman, who also directed this film adaptation) is aware of his daughter’s secret romance and wants to help Astor and Bushell find their happy-ever-after. But before that can happen, the king must outfox a military general keen on becoming a dictator (Robert Warwick in delicious scene stealing mode); as well as find a solution involving a radical revolutionary (J. Carrol Naish) and a political group wanting to turn the land into a republic with voting rights for the common masses.
One thing I enjoyed about the story was the sincere sometimes droll and perfectly understated way that Sherman portrays the king. As lead actor and director, he certainly could have amped up his performance as a henpecked ruler; but he wisely refrains from going in that direction. As a result, he renders a most genuine and tender portrait of a king who only wants his daughter to be happy, his fellow countrymen to be happy; and his wife to realize her true place alongside him on the throne.
Nance O’Neil’s performance as the overbearing queen is one of the focal points of THE ROYAL BED. O’Neil has a very commanding theatrical performance style. And yes, she does go a bit “big” in how she plays her role; but since this is a comedy, even her occasional overacting adds to the fun. Sherman would direct and costar with O’Neil again in another picture a few years later.
RKO spent a good deal of money transferring Sherwood’s Broadway hit to the screen. It’s a talkie precode meant for an intelligent audience. Every so often the story opens up to include exterior scenes, such as a sequence where the queen is going off to America to raise money; as well as later scenes when the revolution is taking place just outside the palace.
However, most of the action does take place inside the king’s inner sanctum. But the performances are so good and so engaging that you hardly notice the stagier aspects of the production.
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Post by Fading Fast on Aug 3, 2024 10:43:15 GMT
The Royal Bed from 1931 with Lowell Sherman, Mary Astor, Nance O'Neil, Anthony Bushell and Robert Warwick
The Royal Bed is an early and stagy talkie that riffs on one of classic Hollywood's favorite themes: royals who are bored and tired of being royals. This one includes the common subplot of a young royal prince or princess wanting to marry for love and not monarchical obligation.
In these stories, there are always a few members of the family who enjoy being royalty as they love the riches and pomp. The smarter family members, though, see how in the twentieth century (when most of these stories take place), they've become almost comical figures.
Set in a small fictitious European constitutional monarchy, Lowell Sherman plays the smart and bored King who would rather play checkers with his servant than attend another one of the royal functions that his wife, played by Nance O'Neil, thinks are oh-so important.
Sherman's real problem, though, is his daughter, played by Mary Astor. She wants to marry his secretary, a commoner played by Anthony Bushell, and won't agree to the diplomatically advantageous marriage arranged by her mother to the prince of a nearby kingdom.
The other wrinkle in Sherman's Kingdom is that his pompous and ambitious Prime Minister, played by Robert Warwick, is using the recent rebel activity in the Kingdom to arrogate power for himself.
All of this is played as smart parody with exaggerated characters and situations. Sherman, who also directed the movie, is in complete control, though, and never lets it slip into arrant camp or full-on farce.
Sherman is also the linchpin that holds the movie together, especially in the climax, no spoilers coming, when it takes a lot of kingly finesse to resolve all the storylines. His performance and directing adroitly walk a tightrope that keeps the film witty, not silly.
Long since forgotten, Sherman was a successful "double threat" as an actor and director in his day. Sadly, he died at the peak of his career, at the age of only forty-six in 1934. Here, you can easily see, had he lived, he likely would have had a long and distinguished career.
Young Mary Astor, who would go on to have a long and distinguished career, is still learning her craft in this one - and learning how to tone down her stagy mannerisms for the movies - but her talent and screen presence are noticeable.
Warwick, who was born to play a pompous anything, and O'Neil, as the insincere yet arrogant queen, are okay playing their obnoxious, two-dimensional characters, with only O'Neil showing a little nuance in the final scene.
Movies about useless royals were a busy genre for most of the twentieth century as real-life geopolitical events were pushing royalty off the world stage. The best of the lot is Roman Holiday with Audrey Hepburn tenderly capturing the sad, gilded-caged life of a princess.
The Royal Bed, though, is a respectable entry. Based on a play by the busy playwright and screenwriter Robert Sherwood, the movie's director and star, Sherman, and the cast made an early, witty and fun version of this oft told tale. |
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Post by topbilled on Aug 10, 2024 12:56:32 GMT
This neglected film is from 1947.
“I listened to my own story; I brought in my own verdict.”
We are told Robert Young’s character has violated half a dozen moral laws. But defense counsel says he is not on trial for any moral offenses. Tell that to the production code office. They won’t let him escape unscathed. He will have to develop a conscience and pay the ultimate price for his sins, even if he’s not really a murderer.
Years later Robert Young told talk show host Dick Cavett that this movie was a failure. He said it flopped with audiences because he played an unsympathetic cad. Though I suspect it was fun for him to portray a flawed figure against type.
Maybe he would’ve gotten away with it early in his career during the precode days of Hollywood. But as a more respectable actor in the late 40s, on the threshold of becoming a father who always knew best, he wasn’t going to get away with being so unsavory.
The extended flashback structure the narrative employs is a noir trope. While our main character is on trial, we flash to events and women who have led him to where he is now: on the witness stand testifying on his own behalf.
The first main flashback involves his relationship with an attractive woman (Jane Greer) while he’s stuck in a marriage to a passive aggressive society wife (Rita Johnson).
Part of the “fun” is how smooth an operator he is. At the same time, he’s a fool not to realize how his wife (Johnson) is pulling the strings with her money. Interestingly, he dumps the girlfriend (Greer) only to cross paths later with her, when he’s hooked up with a new gal (Susan Hayward).
The next major flashback involves the relationship between Young’s character and Hayward’s. We learn that after dumping Greer, Young has been whisked out west by Johnson who has set him up in a brokerage firm. Hayward works at the firm and quickly gets involved with him. The film’s theme seems to be about what it takes to keep a man going. In this case, it takes the security of his wife’s finances; a prestigious job; and those enticing flings on the side.
Hayward was borrowed by RKO from independent producer Walter Wanger. She is quite good as the more devious girlfriend, a closer match in personality to Young’s character than Greer.
It is the type of role that would have been done well by Wanger’s wife Joan Bennett, who did these kinds of parts in her sleep with Fritz Lang. Since we know Young’s character is on trial for murder, we realize as the story unspools that he is either being accused of killing his wife or else a girlfriend. Greer is a courtroom spectator, so it’s not her.
As the last main flashback plays out, we learn how Hayward’s character died in an auto accident. Her body was burned beyond recognition, with Young passing her off as his wife.
Ironically, Johnson’s character has died at the same time, at home on their remote ranch, by suicide. In some regards, it’s a slightly convoluted plot line, but most noirs are thoroughly and satisfyingly convoluted.
After finishing his testimony, Young’s character waits while the jury deliberates. He is visited one last time in prison by Greer. It brings their relationship full circle. She seems to believe in his innocence at this point. But his own lack of faith in himself seals his fate when he returns to court to hear the verdict read. Whether or not they believe his story, he will still be doomed, if he doesn’t believe in himself.
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Post by Fading Fast on Aug 10, 2024 13:32:14 GMT
⇧ Excellent review.
"She is quite good as the more devious girlfriend, a closer match in personality to Young’s character than Greer." Well said and a smart observation.
I like the movie a lot, but the ending really disappoints me. As you implied, right when a fantastic morally ambiguous ending is all set to drop, the censors forced a silly "morally clean" one.
What a shame. Still a good movie, but it deserved a more-honest ending.
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Post by topbilled on Aug 18, 2024 12:39:29 GMT
This neglected film is from 1937.
Money changes everything?
The title of this classic RKO romantic comedy tells us that the lead female character (played by Ann Sothern) has it all. But the truth is she had it all, past tense. No longer an heiress, she is saddled with unpaid bills left by her recently deceased father. A bunch of creditors are coming in and hauling away all the furniture. Her sympathetic aunt (Helen Broderick) knows they can get back on their feet again; they just need a bit of time.
This is when Victor Moore enters the picture. Moore plays a bookie who was owed the most by Sothern’s late father, since dear old dad had a fondness for the horses. Moore has a plan to work with the creditors to temporarily refinance Sothern’s ritzy lifestyle, while Broderick steers Sothern into marrying a rico hombre from South America.
But Sothern has no intention of marrying the guy, and naively thinks that if she found an office job, she can pay everyone off. She’s never worked a day in her life, so this will be interesting! The job she lands, with Moore’s help, happens to be as the secretary for a coffee king (Gene Raymond). Raymond is a workaholic who seems to have allergy trouble. He has no family and no romantic attachments and just needs some tender loving care.
Naturally, he and Sothern hit it off and start falling for each other. But when Raymond learns Sothern is really broke and the matchmaking creditors have an ulterior motive, he gets upset and breaks things off.
There are some very funny scenes that take place at a vacation resort, where Sothern is said to be sick to garner sympathy from Raymond. Of course, she’s perfectly fine and in splendid voice, singing a lovely Hawaiian ballad. The best part of this sequence involves the side story with the creditors and their nonsensical ploys, as well as a rather hilarious bit involving a hypnotist (Solly Ward) who is supposed to help convince Sothern she should marry Raymond.
But after Raymond abruptly breaks things off, he’s the one who has to be persuaded to reconsider his relationship with Sothern. Eventually, Raymond asks Sothern to forgive him after his cruel behavior towards her. She seemingly patches things up with him, but now it’s her turn to jilt him. Oh yes, the course of true love never ran smooth.
While their romance keeps hitting a snag, there is a deep layer to the story. Sothern knows that she doesn’t need everything, she just needs her self respect. Then she has to decide if her goal is getting even or being happy.
It all reaches a madcap climax on the back of a flatbed truck, where Sothern & Raymond and Broderick & Moore, along with the creditors, are speeding towards a ship. A minister on board marries the two couples. The creditors are pleased, and they give Raymond all of Sothern’s bills. This would be the last major pairing for the two stars. Ann Sothern soon left RKO for MGM; and Gene Raymond took two years off before signing a new contract with RKO.
In 1964 they both appeared in the political drama THE BEST MAN in supporting roles. Raymond’s character worked for Cliff Robertson’s campaign; and Sothern’s character supported Henry Fonda’s bid for the presidency.
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Post by topbilled on Aug 24, 2024 15:53:09 GMT
This neglected film is from 1937.
Family connections
Miriam Hopkins had an interesting Hollywood career. She first made a splash in movies doing risqué precodes at Paramount which put her on the cinematic map. But after 1933, she left Paramount to spread her wings and expand her repertoire. At which point she signed with Samuel Goldwyn.
Over the course of the new few years she was often paired with Joel McCrea, another Goldwyn star. Typically, the scripts handed to them resembled this one: light romance dramas or comedies, nothing too taxing, mostly escapist fare. Perhaps McCrea was not available or balked at the idea of doing another picture with Hopkins, so her leading man this time is Ray Milland. Milland’s career was just gaining traction, though he’d been in movies for awhile.
This is an RKO production, meaning Goldwyn has loaned Hopkins, and he is not there at every step of the way to fine-tune the script or polish the overall values of the production. As such, this effort barely rises above programmer status, but it’s enjoyable nonetheless. Especially since the two stars, who never made another picture together, click on screen rather well.
Hopkins plays the aunt of two orphans (Betty Philson & Marianna Strelby) who decides with her wealthy dad (Henry Stephenson) that they’ll raise them, since these are her late sister’s children. But the sister’s husband, also deceased, had made arrangements that in the event of their deaths, the kids should be raised by his brother (Milland). This sets up the main premise and central conflict. It doesn’t become a battle of who will get the youngsters, but how they can reach a mutual agreement.
Complicating matters is the fact that when Hopkins goes to inspect Milland’s lifestyle, to see if he’s capable of being a parent, she gets to know him. And since this is a romantic comedy with the emphasis on romantic, she naturally falls for him. Oh, the one catch in all this: if Milland cannot hold a job, he loses the kids. He’s a slightly bohemian artist who seems to get quite a few jobs but has trouble keeping them.
Though Hopkins and Stephenson could use Milland’s eccentric behavior and frequent temporary unemployment to their advantage to gain control of the children, Hopkins suddenly decides against it. Because she now loves Milland, she is going to help him obtain and keep a lucrative portrait job, so he won’t lose the kids. Of course, we know that if (correction, when) this plot succeeds, she will be able to become Milland’s wife and help make the new family unit complete.
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Post by Fading Fast on Aug 24, 2024 17:10:20 GMT
⇧ I enjoyed your review very much, including the insights on Hopkins' career.
When I saw the title, I thought I hadn't seen the movie, but once I started reading your review, I knew I had.
I checked and I have a draft review written that I never posted, but in it, I compare the movie to Hallmark movies today, noting that if Hallmark had the resources of the old studios, this is the type of movie it could make as Hallmark loves "the friendly community (the Bohemian Greenwich Village apartment house/neighborhood) comes together to help each other out" tale.
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Post by topbilled on Aug 24, 2024 17:20:56 GMT
⇧ I enjoyed your review very much, including the insights on Hopkins' career.
When I saw the title, I thought I hadn't seen the movie, but once I started reading your review, I knew I had.
I checked and I have a draft review written that I never posted, but in it, I compare the movie to Hallmark movies today, noting that if Hallmark had the resources of the old studios, this is the type of movie it could make as Hallmark loves "the friendly community (the Bohemian Greenwich Village apartment house/neighborhood) comes together to help each other out" tale.
Will you post your review? |
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Post by Fading Fast on Aug 24, 2024 17:25:15 GMT
⇧ I enjoyed your review very much, including the insights on Hopkins' career.
When I saw the title, I thought I hadn't seen the movie, but once I started reading your review, I knew I had.
I checked and I have a draft review written that I never posted, but in it, I compare the movie to Hallmark movies today, noting that if Hallmark had the resources of the old studios, this is the type of movie it could make as Hallmark loves "the friendly community (the Bohemian Greenwich Village apartment house/neighborhood) comes together to help each other out" tale.
Will you post your review?
I should post my review, I just need to give it a good edit first and today has been surprisingly busy. I wrote it back in 2023. |
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Post by Fading Fast on Aug 24, 2024 17:50:31 GMT
After a quick editing, here it is.
Wise Girl from 1937 with Mariam Hopkins, Ray Milland and Henry Stephenson
If Hallmark had been around in 1937, Wise Girl is the type of movie it would have been making.
A wealthy industrialist, Henry Stephenson, enlists the aid of one of his daughters, Mariam Hopkins, to take the children of his recently deceased daughter away from their Bohemian uncle, Ray Milland.
Stephenson believes his money and position will provide a better upbringing for his grandchildren. Since Milland has legal guardianship, Stephenson sends Hopkins to Milland's Greenwich Village neighborhood to see what dirt she can turn up on the "subversive" uncle.
From here, the story follows a formula Hollywood had used many times before and has been using ever since. It starts when Hopkins, incognito, meets Milland and the two initially rub each other the wrong way, but they really are attracted to each other.
Hopkins then discovers that Milland is really a good guy – a loving parent and a talented, but unemployed artist, who takes a bunch of part-time jobs to make ends meet. She also discovers that the Greenwich Village Bohemians aren't the terrible people rich-girl Hopkins was brought up to believe.
Playing to one of Hollywood's favorite tropes, the Bohemians are all cheerful, sharing, and caring people who live in a kind of commune apartment house where they generously help each other out with money and food: from each, according to his ability, to each....
Having lived in New York City and seen plenty of Bohemian/leftist apartments in the 1980s and 1990s, either Bohemians lived much better and shared more in the 1930s than in those much-more-affluent later time periods, or Hollywood took some license with its view of Depression-era Greenwich Village Bohemian kindness.
Milland and his artist friends also have fun at their impromptu parties, as opposed to Hopkins' socialite friends' parties that are luxurious but boring and catty. This last one is also a favorite fantasy trope of Hollywood that shows up in movies all the time (see 1997's Titanic as an example).
One wonders why all these successful Hollywood writers and directors, who love this story, almost never live it in real life, but instead attend the expensive Hollywood parties, events and balls they always denouce in their stories.
Back in Wise Girl, Hopkins and Milland, after a bunch of mix-ups, start to get close, until a last-minute misunderstanding between Hopkins and Milland, and interference by Stephens, lands Milland in court.
This very Hallmark-like twist has Stephens trying to take custody of the girls from Milland based on innocent information he obtains from Hopkins and then distorts and manipulates to win the case.
After that, it's the Hallmark outcome (spoiler alert) where Hopkins helps Milland get a job as an artist, curmudgeonly Stephenson sees Milland is good with the girls, and Milland sees that Hopkins and her dad aren't really bad people.
It's a Hallmark fairy tale before there was Hallmark, but also a story Hollywood loves telling. It's a cute formula that aligns with Hollywood's politics, so it seems it will always be with us.
Wise Girl is neither a particularly good nor bad version of this formula; plus it's fun to see a very young Ray Milland right before his career took off.
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Post by topbilled on Sept 2, 2024 15:09:25 GMT
This neglected film is from 1933.
Two for one
This clever precode was produced by RKO in the late summer of 1933. It’s interesting to see actress Ginger Rogers doing well in a lead role opposite Norman Foster, more than three months before her first pairing with Fred Astaire in FLYING DOWN TO RIO. Of course, she’d become overly identified with musical comedies during the rest of the 1930s, before proving she could do more dramatic material. But these lighter romcom efforts of hers without Astaire are equally worth watching.
Originally the studio was going to put Rogers with Lew Ayres, whom she’d marry a year later. They’d previously costarred in DON’T BET ON LOVE at Universal. But for whatever reason, Ayres was replaced by Foster with whom Rogers had worked in 1930 when both were under contract at Paramount.
In this story, they play down-on-their-luck types in New York City who are both behind on the rent. Their ingenious landlord (George Sidney) decides to lease the same apartment to both of them in shifts.
Rogers who works during the day, will enjoy the apartment at night; while Foster who stays out at nights, will get the place during the day. At first Rogers thinks she is sharing space with another female, then quickly realizes the other person is male. There is some humor that comes with two people of the opposite sex sharing living quarters but never actually being there together. It would be a perfect gimmick for a film made during the production code era, since they are technically “cohabitating” but never actually physically crossing paths.
RKO did remake the story after the code was fully enforced, in 1937 with James Dunn and Whitney Bourne, but that version isn’t as charming as this one; it plays up the screwball aspects of the situation. The premise would be reused in other motion pictures, such as Republic’s morale booster ROSIE THE RIVETER in 1944. In that case, the apartment was occupied by two lady factory workers in the evening, while two male workers had it during the other twelve hours. Double the complications, double the fun.
In RAFTER ROMANCE, Rogers and Foster are supported by a good cast of character actors. In addition to Sidney as the landlord, there is a lecherous boss for Rogers (played by Robert Benchley) and a benefactress (played by Laura Hope Crews) trying to sink her claws into Foster. The story has Rogers fending off advances from Benchley; and Foster fending off advances from Crews. At the same time, they get to know each other outside their shared home.
Ironically, they fall in love away from the apartment. Then, of course, they learn they are “roommates” who had come to dislike each other, without even really knowing each other. As I said, it’s a clever scenario. The writing is creative, and the performances are solid. It’s an enjoyable romp from start to finish.
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