IT Girls, Flappers, Jazz Babies, and Vamps

Clara Bow in It (1927)

Tomorrow begins Film Forum's two-week series "IT Girls, Flappers, Jazz Babies, and Vamps" or as I call it, my big birthday present. Yes, there will be 31 films shown featuring  some of the loveliest and greatest of the silver screen starting with Kay Francis and Miriam Hopkins in Ernst Lubitsch's witty Trouble in Paradise (1932) and ending with Clara Bow in Dorothy Arzner's delightful Get Your Man (1927). In between there's Louise Brooks, Marlene Dietrich, Barbara Stanwyck, Joan Blondell, Greta Garbo, Jean Harlow, Joan Crawford, Anna May Wong, Colleen Moore, and more. I am trying to limit myself to only seeing films that I haven't seen on the big screen before but that rule might just get broken (I'll report back on which screenings I attend). So thank you Bruce Goldstein and Film Forum for scheduling this series during my birthday month. And if anyone is looking for me during the next few weeks, you'll know where to find me.

For more information about the series, visit Film Forum.

Hitchcock Roundup

Clockwise, starting top left, I Confess (1953), Shadow of a Doubt (1943), Lifeboat (1944), 

Rear Window (1954), To Catch a Thief (1955), The Wrong Man (1956), and Notorious (1946).

The “Complete Hitchcock” series at Film Forum is over, and I have to say that I feel like a bad cinephile since I only managed to attend a handful of screenings. Even though I had seen the “Hitchcock Nine” (Hitchcock’s nine restored silent films) last year at BAM and some of his other films before on the big screen (Rebecca, The Lady Vanishes, The 39 Steps, Suspicion, Spellbound, Rope, Strangers on a Train, Dial M For Murder, and The Birds), I had planned on seeing more than I did.

The ones I did manage to catch were: Shadow of a Doubt (1943), Hitchcock’s personal favourite, which is great film with a lovely Northern California setting and Joseph Cotton playing evil to perfection; Lifeboat (1944), which can come off as a piece of war propaganda at times but succeeds due to the always entertaining Tallulah Bankhead; I Confess (1953), a film that should get more attention, especially for the compelling performance by the brilliant Montgomery Clift; Rear Window (1954), which I absolutely adore from its fantastic set to Grace Kelly's unforgettable entrance; To Catch a Thief (1955), the first screening that I saw in the series (reviewed here); The Wrong Man (1956), which was shot on location in New York and is interesting at times but for the most part seems like your run-of-the-mill detective story; and Notorious (1946), my favourite Hitchcock film, which has a great location (Rio), the drop-dead gorgeous duo of Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman, one of Hitchcock’s greatest MacGuffins, and Nazis, loads of them.

Seeing a bunch of Hitchcock films in a short period of time reminded me of why I enjoy his work: the mix of humour with the macabre, the spot-on casting, the striking use of shadow and light, and the often brilliant scores. It also made me realize that I prefer his films from the 1940s, Cary Grant is at his most handsome when angry, and regardless of what has been written or said about the man himself, Hitchcock was a great director.

Now it’s on to “Tout Truffaut” at Film Forum: three weeks of the works of another of my favourites, the French New Wave director Francois Truffaut, including all of his Antoine Doinel films. It’s a perfect pairing as Truffaut was influenced by Hitchcock and interviewed him in depth in 1962, recording more than 25 hours of their discussion. At the American Film Institute Salute to Alfred Hitchcock in 1979, Truffaut said, "In America, you call this man "Hitch." In France, we call him "Monsieur Hitchcock." You respect him because he shoots scenes of love as if they were scenes of murder. We respect him because he shoots scenes of murder like scenes of love." Film Forum, here I come.

The Complete Hitchcock

Cary Grant in North by Northwest (1959)

A screening tonight of Alfred Hitchcock's North by Northwest (1959) at Film Forum marks the start of "The Complete Hitchcock," a five-week long series devoted to the films of the master of suspense including the "Hitchcock 9," his surviving nine silent films that were recently restored by the British Film Institute. I plan on seeing as many as I can although I'm trying to put some restrictions on myself (for example, if I own the film on DVD and have seen it on the big screen then maybe I should pass). I can't think of a better way to ride out the rest of this miserable winter than watching some classic films (especially the ones with Cary Grant) at my favourite cinema. Have a wonderful weekend and see you at Film Forum.

Blackmail

Anny Ondra in Blackmail (1929)

A few years ago the British Film Institute (BFI) completed their largest restoration project to date, fully restoring the surviving nine silent feature films of Alfred Hitchcock (a tenth, The Mountain Eagle, is believed lost). During the process of preserving the films, additional footage was added and new musical scores were commissioned. The BFI sent the “Hitchcock 9” out on the road for viewers to enjoy and last summer I spent a weekend at the Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM) watching some of these films. My favourite of the bunch was Blackmail (1929).

Set in London, Blackmail opens with a couple of detectives capturing a wanted criminal. That evening one of the men, Detective Frank Webber (John Longden), takes Alice White (Anny Ondra) out on a date. When they get into an argument Frank leaves only to return in time to see Alice leaving with a man (Cyril Ritchard), an artist she had secretly planned to meet.

Alice allows herself to be talked into visiting the artist’s studio. After admiring a portrait of a jester, Alice creates her own painting (with some help from the artist) before she dons a model’s outfit and dances around while he plays a song for her. While changing, the artist attempts to rape Alice who ends up killing him with a knife. Frightened, she tears at the painting of the jester before putting her clothes on and fleeing, leaving her gloves behind. She walks the streets until dawn all the while seeing symbols of her crime (an extended arm, a knife) wherever she goes.

Naturally, Frank is assigned to the case and when he recognizes both the dead man and one of Alice’s gloves, he keeps quiet and goes to confront her. Still in shock over the events of the previous evening, she can’t speak. The two are together when Tracy (Donald Calthrop) arrives carrying Alice’s other glove. He apparently saw Alice enter the dead man’s flat and intends to blackmailing the couple. At first they agree to his demands but when Frank discovers that Tracy has a criminal record and is wanted for questioning in the case, he calls in the police.

The blackmailing begins. John Longden, Anny Ondra, and Donald Calthrop.

What follows is a chase that ends with Tracy falling to his death through a skylight above the Reading Room at the British Museum. The police consider the case closed but Alice, unaware of what has transpired, arrives at New Scotland Yard to confess. Before she can speak with the Chief Inspector, he gives instructions for Frank to deal with her. Alice, finally finding her voice, tells Frank that she did it but that it was a case of self-defense. The truth remains a secret between the two of them but at what cost? 

Hitchcock actually made two versions of Blackmail—one silent and one with sound. The film started out as a silent but with the growing popularity of talkies, the film’s producer asked Hitchcock to film the last reel in sound. Thinking the idea ridiculous, he filmed most of the scenes with sound and delivered two versions to the studio. This gave Blackmail the unique distinction of being both Hitchcock’s last silent and first talkie. 

There were issues with using sound though starting with the film’s Czech lead, Anny Ondra, who spoke with a heavy accent. Hitchcock solved the problem by having actress Joan Barry stand out of frame and speak her lines into a microphone while Ondra mouthed the words, the first time an actor’s voice was “dubbed” so to speak. When the two versions were released, the silent one proved to be more popular, most likely because many theatres at the time were not set up for sound. Having seen both, I have to say the silent version is superior to the talkie.

Hitchcock's cameo in Blackmail.

Even though this was only Hitchcock’s second thriller, in Blackmail we find what would become some classic Hitchcock elements: murder, a beautiful blonde, a wronged man, a chase scene involving a famous landmark, and themes of guilt and moral ambiguity. It also features one of Hitchcock’s best cameo appearances as a man being bothered by a little boy while riding the Tube.

The very pretty Anny Ondra is a standout in a cast that is fine if not a bit bland (John Longden as her boyfriend, for example, is totally forgettable). Hitchcock’s first “blonde,” Ondra turns Alice, who at first appears to be just a silly girl, into a sympathetic character even after she allows an innocent man to be blamed for a murder she committed. And without speaking a word, she's able to convey all the horror of being assaulted with just her eyes.

And then there is London as the setting. While many scenes were shot at the studio, some actual locations were used including the crowded Lyon’s Tea House and Piccadilly at night with all of its blinking lights. One of the most dramatic moments in the film involves the British Museum. Unfortunately, the light in the actual museum wasn't conducive for shooting so Hitchcock employed the Schüfftan process. This involved pointing the camera at a mirror tilted at 45 degrees in which was reflected a transparency of the museum. Some of the silvering was then scraped off the mirror so the camera could capture the actors who were on a set behind it, resulting in the actors appearing as if they were in the museum. 

The master of suspense always knew exactly how to heighten the tension in a story and Blackmail is no exception. When the artist attempts to rape Alice the event occurs behind a curtain, which the viewer sees moving, violently, before a hand (Alice’s) reaches out from behind it and grabs a knife off the table. When the curtain becomes still there is a pause before a lifeless arm (the artist’s) falls out. Alice, dressed only in her slip and her hair in disarray, emerges with the bloody knife in her hand, moving as if in a trance. Seeing the actual events taking place behind the curtain would have been shocking but keeping them hidden from our view makes them all the more horrid in our imaginations.

Hitchcock and Anny Ondra on the set of Blackmail.

As for the newly restored print, luckily the BFI had the original negatives to work with as well as an early print made from those negatives before any damage had occurred to them. The result is a great looking silent, far superior to the versions that were available before.

For those of you who may have missed the “Hitchcock 9” on its first American tour, Film Forum here in New York will be showing all of them along with Hitchcock’s other films (the program is called “The Complete Hitchcock”) for five weeks starting February 21, 2014 (more info here). See Blackmail if you can along with the rest of the nine. After all, Hitchcock did say that, “silent pictures were the purest form of cinema.”

Remember the Night

December is Barbara Stanwyck month at Film Forum, and I’m sorry to say I missed most of the screenings. Some of the films I’d seen numerous times before (Double Indemnity, Meet John Doe, Baby Face) so I decided to see ones that were new to me. One night I went to a triple feature of early Stanwyck films: one stinker, Mexicali Rose (1929); a so-so mystery, The Locked Door (1929); and a decent sob story directed by Frank Capra, Forbidden (1931). Then on Christmas day I spent the afternoon watching Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray in Mitchell Leisen’s Remember the Night (1940), written by the brilliant Preston Sturges.

The film opens with a woman nicking a bracelet from a jeweller and being caught shortly after trying to pawn it. She turns out to be Lee Leander (Barbara Stanwyck), a woman with a record and no permanent home. Later at trial, she’s represented by a blustery blowhard of an attorney whose antics annoy the prosecuting ADA John Sargeant (Fred MacMurray). Worried that the jury will take pity on a woman, especially at the holidays, John manages to get the trial postponed until after the new year. The only problem is Lee is broke and with no place to live. So John posts bail for her and proposes that since she's a fellow Hoosier, she can hitch a ride with him to Indiana where he'll drop her off at her mother's on his way home to his family (this would all happen, right?). Lee agrees even though she hasn't been back since she ran away years ago. 

Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray get woken up by an unexpected visitor.

After a detour finds them spending the night in a field, they’re woken in the morning by a nosey cow before getting “arrested” by the farmer whose land they’re trespassing on. With some quick thinking on Lee’s part they get away and arrive at her childhood home only to discover that her mother wants nothing to do with her. 

Feeling sorry for Lee, John takes her home with him where his family warmly greets her. Lee, grateful for such kindness, insists on helping with the washing and cooking, and finds herself enjoying the country life, including the square dance she attends with the family on New Year’s Eve. As to be expected, John and Lee fall in love but after his mother (Beulah Bondi), who knows about her past, tells Lee how hard John had to work to get where he is, she promises to leave him alone.

On their way back to New York by way of Canada (to avoid Pennsylvania where they’re “wanted”), they stop at Niagara Falls, and John suggests that Lee run but she refuses. Back in New York, she stands trial and John tries deliberately to lose the case. But Lee’s love for him makes her decide to finally do the right thing. 

There were some corny elements in the film (mainly plot devices) but it still managed to be a solid film. This was due in part to Sturges’ smart dialogue, particularly the lines given to Stanwyck’s character. 

John: You threw a lighted match into the wastebasket?

Lee: Well I wasn't aiming for the spittoon.

John: You know that's called arson?

Lee: No! I thought that was when you bit somebody!

Incidentally, this was the last of Preston Sturges' scripts to be directed by someone else. His next one, The Great McGinty, would mark his directorial debut.

And speaking of the actors, Stanwyck once again manages to play a dame (there’s no other word for it) like no one else. Few actresses were able to display that combination of street smarts and vulnerability like she could. She’s a bad girl with a heart of gold only there’s no cliché about her because Stanwyck makes her characters seem real.

As for Fred MacMurray, I’ve come to realize that he’s underrated most of the time and it’s only in the hands of a good director that you see how good he can be (watch Double Indemnity if you don’t believe me). Even though his character’s being ridiculous (as in no ADA would ever do what he does in a million years), MacMurray doesn’t invite scorn from the viewer but rather makes one believe that his character is simply doing the right thing. 

Beulah Bondi, Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, and Elizabeth Patterson after the square dance.

Also kudos to the great supporting cast including Beulah Bondi as John’s mother, Elizabeth Patterson as Aunt Emma, and Sterling Holloway as cousin Willie who supplies a lot of the comic relief (if he sounds familiar it's probably because he would later became the voice of Winnie the Pooh). And then there is Fred “Snowflake” Toones as John’s foolish black valet, Rufus. While not an uncommon role in films from the time it doesn’t make watching his scenes, which are are not even remotely funny, any easier. Unfortunately, a sour note in an otherwise sweet film.

Remember the Night plays at Film Forum through December 31, 2013. For more info, visit here. 

Day 28: Your "Perfect Date" Film

John Cusack is Lloyd Dobler in Say Anything… 

Day 28 of the 31 Day Film Challenge: Your “perfect date” film.

I'm changing this slightly to "everyone's" perfect date film, which would be Cameron Crowe’s Say Anything… (1989). A romantic comedy that appeals to both women and men, it has great music and a likable hero, Lloyd Dobler, whom guys can learn a thing or two from.

“I got a question. If you guys know so much about women, how come you're here at like the Gas 'n' Sip on a Saturday night completely alone drinking beers with no women anywhere?”—Lloyd Dobler.

To find out more about the 31 Day Film Challenge, visit here.

Day 17: The Most Beautiful Scene in Any Film

Day 17 of the 31 Day Film Challenge: The most beautiful scene in any film.

Film scenes can be beautiful for a variety of reasons—the cinematography, the dialogue (or lack of), the setting, the music. For me, one of the most beautiful scenes ever, which happens to include all of these things, occurs in Merchant Ivory’s Room With a View (1985) when George (Julian Sands) kisses Lucy (Helena Bonham Carter) in an Italian poppy field. The light, the silence between the two, the Tuscan countryside, and the Puccini is all so perfectly beautiful. See for yourself.

To find out more about the 31 Day Film Challenge, visit here.

Picture Snatcher

One of the things I learned after seeing a James Cagney triple feature at Film Forum during their 1933 series is that I would watch Cagney in anything. 

Two of the films, Hard to Handle and Lady Killer, were run-of-the mill Warner pictures with Cagney playing a variation of the bad guy with a big heart. In Hard to Handle, which also stars the excellent Ruth Donnelly, Cagney is a con artist who must come up with a scheme to get money after his business partner skips town with their funds. In Lady Killer he’s a former crook who gets a second chance as an actor in Hollywood. Both were fun but forgettable.

Picture Snatcher was by far the best of the three. In it Cagney plays Danny Kean, a gangster who upon release from prison tells his former associates that he wants to go straight and sets out to prove himself as a newspaper reporter. He shows up at the offices of the Graphic News, a trashy tabloid, to see the alcoholic city editor Al McLean (Ralph Bellamy) who had sent him a letter offering him a job when he got out of prison. McLean turns him down but when Danny overhears the editor-in-chief Grover (Robert Barrat) bemoan the fact that no one has been able to get a photo of a suicidal fireman whose wife has died in a fire along with her lover, Danny sees his chance. Claiming to be an insurance adjuster, Danny weasels his way past the fireman and steals his wedding photo thus securing a job as a picture snatcher on the staff.

Danny soon meets Pat Nolan (Patricia Ellis) a college student on a tour of the paper’s offices. The two fall in love only to find out that Alice’s father, Casey (Robert Emmett O’Connor), is the police lieutenant who originally captured Danny after shooting him six times. Danny wins Casey over by getting a rival paper to print a complimentary story about Casey, which gets him promoted to captain.

The ambitious Danny takes Grover up on an offer of a $1,000 reward to the man who can get a photo of a woman scheduled to be executed at Sing Sing. Switching places with a reporter from another paper (the Graphic News wasn't invited), Danny manages to get a shot of the woman in the electric chair with a camera tied to his ankle (based on the true story of Ruth Snyder, who was executed in the electric chair for the murder of her husband in 1928). After a mad chase by the cops, Danny delivers the front-page image and gets his reward but it comes at a cost. Casey is demoted and Pat leaves Danny.

Distraught and in trouble with the authorities, Danny hides out at the flat of Allison (Alice White), the Graphic News’ sob sister. Even though she’s dating Al, who Danny has become good friends with, she comes on to Danny. While in the process of rejecting her advances, Al walks in and catches them in an embrace. With no fiancée, job, or best friend, Danny must find a way to make amends and show that he’s more than just a picture snatcher.

 James Cagney and Alice White getting the dirt on the story in Picture Snatcher.

Cagney is superb in the film. His delivery and energy are perfect and he injects just the right amount of compassion into the character, allowing the audience to feel sympathetic toward him. Ralph Bellamy, who I often find to be a bit wooden, is good here while the wonderful Alice White dances away with all of her scenes, especially when compared to the pretty but bland Patricia Ellis. She also takes her punches, literary. Poor Alice is shoved, punched, and thrown about by both Cagney and Bellamy. There is also a cameo by the always-entertaining Sterling Holloway as a journalism student who likes to pontificate about the grandness of journalism.

The script, adapted by Allan Rivkin and P.J. Wolfson from a story by ex-con Danny Ahern, is filled with snappy dialogue that keeps up with the breakneck speed of the film (which, by the way, was reportedly shot in 15 days). You get classic gangster gems like "That's the last rap I take for anybody. You crack and I turn canary." And racy ones like “I’m going to put on some silk so good that you can see right through it.” All of these are said in those classic New York accents that only seem to exist in films from the 1930s.

Picture Snatcher has it all—romance, gangsters, a sleazy newspaper, a nail-biting car chase, a major shoot out, and a character named Jerry the Mug. What more could you ask for?

Hello March

Hello March. A very important month around here what with the official arrival of spring, Easter celebrations, and my birthday to look forward to. As for this weekend, I plan on taking in a triple feature at Film Forum (part of the 1933 series) and getting some much needed sleep. Have a wonderful weekend everyone!

Image from the New York Public Library.

1933

Ginger Rogers in Gold Diggers of 1933.

Bruce Goldstein over at Film Forum is apparently a mind reader as he routinely creates programs that include my favourite films (isn't that nice?). Case in point. Starting next month, Film Forum will spend four weeks screening 66 films from 1933. What's so special about that year? In addition to the release of dozens of amazing films, the debut of Astaire and Rogers (Flying Down to Rio), the opening of the first drive-in movie theatre, and  the founding of the Screen Actors Guild, 1933 was the last year before the enforcement of the Motion Picture Production Code and the creation of the Legion of Decency by the Catholic Church. So 1933 was the last hurrah of sorts for uncensored stories about sex, drugs, murder, homosexuality, you name it. And what a year it was. We’re talking Design for Living, Dinner at Eight, Gold Diggers of 1933, 42nd Street, Footlight Parade, Queen Christina, Baby Face, Bombshell, Ecstasy, King Kong, and many, many more. I for one can’t wait to attend as many screenings as possible. Thank you Film Forum.

For a complete schedule, check out their calendar here.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas from the F. Scott Fitzgeralds and me! Last night I spent Christmas Eve with friends at their home in Brooklyn and today I'm having a silent Christmas, going to the movies with some others to see Douglas Fairbanks in Robin Hood. Not a bad way to celebrate. 

I wish you all Happy Holidays and hope you have a wonderful day with family and friends.

Dial M For Murder

When I was a kid my friends and I went to one of the local movie theatres to see Hitchcock’s Dial M For Murder (1954) in 3-D. We wore those flimsy paper glasses and gasped when Grace Kelly's hand emerged from the screen, clutching a pair of scissors.

Recently I got to relive that moment by attending a screening at Film Forum of a newly restored version in digital 3-D. This time we wore solid, plastic glasses. The only film Hitchcock ever shot in 3-D, it was great to see it again on the big screen.

Tony Wendice (Ray Milland) is a former tennis player whose wealthy wife, Margot (Grace Kelly), is having an affair with an American crime writer, Mark Halliday (Robert Cummings). Tony plots what he believes to be the perfect murder of his wife, the details of which includes pressuring a former schoolmate, Charles Swann (Anthony Dawson), into committing the crime. Tony invites the visiting Mark to attend a stag party with him while Margot stays home. The plan is for Swann to strangle Margot, make it look like a burglary, and leave without a trace. What could go wrong? Apparently, a lot. Margot fights back and winds up killing Swann. With some quick thinking Tony decides to use the situation to his advantage and implies to the police that Swann was blackmailing Margot, thereby giving her a reason for wanting him dead. Margot is accused of murder, and tried and convicted. While she's in jail awaiting execution, Mark takes it upon himself to prove her innocence and finds an unlikely ally in Chief Inspector Hubbard (John Williams).

Anthony Dawson and Grace Kelly in the murder scene.

Dial M For Murder is not one of Hitchcock’s best films. But it’s still a Hitchcock film, which makes it more enjoyable than most other films. Grace Kelly is her usual sophisticated, beautiful self and Ray Milland plays the charming snake like few can. I’ve never been a big Robert Cummings fan and he didn’t change my mind with this film but Anthony Dawson was born to play a petty thief and John Williams steals every scene he’s in with his humorous delivery.

Set almost entirely in the Wendices’ small flat, Hitchcock shot low, which combined with the crowded, richly coloured flat lends a claustrophobic feel to the film. Based on a popular play by Frederick Knott, at times it feels like you’re watching a filmed play but that doesn’t take away from the moments of suspense or the story itself.

The scene in which Tony invites Swann over to his flat under the pretence of buying a used car from him is important to the story because it establishes their relationship and outlines the murder plan. Yet for the first time I noticed that the scene drags, too long compared to the rest of the film, even though it offers one of Hitchcock’s better screen appearances (he’s seen in a class reunion photo hanging on the wall).

The murder scene though is classic Hitchcock. Tony phones Margot from the club, a ploy to get her out of bed and over to the desk where Swann lies in wait. But everything goes wrong when Margot, who’s being strangled on the desk, grabs a pair of scissors and stabs Swann in the back. The irony is the reason the scissors are out in the first place is that Tony suggested Margot spend the evening pasting clippings of his tennis achievements in a scrapbook. Tony, who is still on the phone, hears the entire thing, never flinching once.

This is where 3-D is used most effectively. I must confess, I’m not a big fan of the medium. The recent films I’ve seen have given me a headache (Alice in Wonderland was a painful experience) but the use in this film is fine if not very dramatic, save for Margot’s clutching hand.

Ray Milland, Robert Cummings, and John Williams discuss the question of the key.

Common objects often play an important part in Hitchcock films. In Dial M For Murder it’s a latchkey (in Notorious there is an important key as well). At first, how Swann got into the Wendice flat is a puzzle to Hubbard as is the fact that the key in Margot’s purse does not fit the door. Later on, he puts two and two together and a key helps to uncover the truth.

If you've never seen Dial M For Murder or it's been a while, I suggest you check it out, whether in 3-D or not.

Counsellor at Law

Counsellor at Law (1933) is a compelling film by William Wyler based on the popular Broadway hit play by Elmer Rice. Set in the Simon and Tedesco law offices in the Empire State Building, Counsellor at Law looks at a few days in the life of attorney George Simon.

Simon appears to have it all. Raised in a poor Jewish neighborhood on the Lower East Side, he has risen to become a successful attorney with a large stream of clients, a loyal staff, and a beautiful socialite wife. Yet when a rival attorney threatens to reveal that Simon once allowed a client to perjure himself, his life takes a nosedive. His wife leaves for Europe with another man, one of his clients dies, and he is filled with despair. He is about to end it all when the love of his devoted secretary and a new case save him.

Counsellor at Law is filled with a stellar cast including a great Bebe Daniels as the long suffering secretary Rexy Gordon who is in love with her boss, Doris Kenyon as his snobby wife Cora, Melvyn Douglas as a slimy family friend, Isabel Jewell in a hilarious turn as the fast-talking, Brooklyn-accented telephone operator Bessie Green, John Hammond Daily as Simon’s process server/detective Charlie McFadden, and Mayo Methot (in real life the former Mrs. Humphrey Bogart) and Thelma Todd as happy clients of Simon’s with Todd being especially vivacious in her all too brief screen appearance.

But ultimately Counsellor at Law is John Barrymore’s film. All of the characters revolve around his George Simon, and he never falters once. Some people believe that the non-Jewish Barrymore was miscast but I found Barrymore totally believable in the role. Little things he does—the constant eating of chocolates (a reminder of something he was denied as a child?), the softening of features when his mother (played by Clara Langsner) comes to visit, the genuine hurt he exhibits when his wife treats him coldly—all help to give depth to Simon’s character and gain empathy for his plight from the audience.

John Barrymore and Bebe Daniels in a tense moment.

Simon is a flawed person but he is a good man. Even the mistake he made that now threatens his career and life was done out of a belief, however misguided, in redemption for his client. Simon still helps people from the old neighbourhood, most likely pro bono, because you believe he doesn’t want to forget where he came from.

Class is a strong theme in the film. Simon’s wife and stepchildren appear to resent Simon’s origins and his profession with Cora making constant jabs about his work and expressing concern his actions may bring shame on her. They, along with Simon’s mother and a former neighbour and her radical son, symbolize the two worlds that Simon finds himself constantly straddling. One of the strongest scenes occurs when the young radical (played by future director Victor Sherman) confronts George and charges him with betraying his background. The cutting words visibly upset Simon.

The setting, the fast-paced law offices of two New York attorneys, acts as a barometer of Simon’s life (and while we're on the subject, what better building to symbolize the city but the Empire State Building). The place is a constant buzz—phones ringing, people coming in and out, orders being yelled. As long as everything keeps ticking and running on schedule, Simon is fine. But once it quiets down, when everyone goes home at night, Simon is forced to face his demons and his strength waivers.

As for the set, oh my God. The entire film takes place in the law offices, and they're Art Deco gorgeousness with sleek furniture, huge doors and windows, chrome and glass. I would never leave if I worked in a place like that.

One final comment about Barrymore. In this film you can see the toll that alcohol had taken on him; he looks older than his years. Watching him it’s easy to forget how handsome and dashing he was when he was younger (check him out below). 

But young or old, the man could command presence and in Counsellor at Law he does just that. I saw it at Film Forum this summer and the audience was obviously moved by his performance. If you've never seen the film, I highly recommend that you do. And if it's been a while since you last saw it, watch it again. It's that good.

The Goose Woman

Louise Dresser is The Goose Woman.

The Goose Woman (1925) is a real gem of a film. Who knew that an unlikeable, drunken woman could not only carry a film but win over the audience as well?

Mary Holmes is a former opera star (stage name Marie de Nardi) who was forced to give up her career and the limelight when she lost her singing voice after giving birth to an illegitimate son, Gerald, whom she now despises. Destitute, she lives alone in a small cottage, herding geese (hence the title of the film) and drinking bottles of gin. When one of her neighbours is murdered, Mary sees her chance to be in the public eye once more and gives a false description to the police of the murderer whom she claims to have seen. Her actions result in Gerald being mistakenly arrested for the crime, and Mary is left to choose between her son and fame.

Written by Rex Beach, the story was inspired by the Hall-Mills murders that had happened a few years prior on September 14, 1922, in which an Episcopal priest and his lover, a member of the church choir, were found shot to death. The suspects, the priest’s wife and her brothers, were tried for the crime but acquitted largely in part because of conflicting testimony from an eyewitness who was nicknamed the “Pig Woman.”

With this storyline, one might expect nothing more than your run of the mill silent melodrama. But in the skilled hands of director Clarence Brown, the film is a moving, well-made drama with scattered moments of comedic relief.

One of the reasons it works so well is the casting of Louise Dresser as the Goose Woman. Dreiser is amazing. When we first meet her she is unkempt and dirty. Appearing slightly deranged, her only seeming comforts are looking at a scrapbook of old press clippings and listening to a recording of her singing. When her son arrives and expresses concern for her condition, she scoffs at him. In a very symbolic moment (there are more in the film), he accidentally breaks her recording, shattering the remnants of their relationship. She tells him that she hates him and throws him out. Later, when she is taken under the wing by the district attorney and cleaned up to look presentable, her transformation is incredible. She’s once again a grand dame, graciously accepting compliments and impressing the people around her. Not only do her clothes and hair change, but her mannerisms and stance as well as the look in her eyes. It really is a tour-de-force performance.

Gerald (Jack Pickford) learns the truth about his parentage. 

Jack Pickford gives one of his finest performances in this film. Naive but with the best intentions at heart, his Gerald is a son who despite everything still loves his mother and comes across as genuine. Pickford is often dismissed as an actor but his sister Mary believed he was a better actor than she was and in this film you can see how good he was.

Gerald’s fiancée is played by a young Constance Bennett who sports some thick eyebrows (She is definitely one star for whom the thin, arched brows of the 1930s was an improvement). The scene in which he confesses the truth about his parentage to her is subtle and lovely, and Bennett holds her own with Pickford.

The film is wonderfully shot by Milton Moore (he also shot the fabulous He Who Gets Slapped) and the sets reek of authenticity (apparently Brown had a real goose woman’s cottage moved to a Hollywood back lot). And the new print looks amazing thanks to a recent restoration by the UCLA Film & Television Archive.

I saw The Goose Woman at Film Forum this summer as part of their Universal 100 series celebrating the studio’s 100th anniversary. Steve Sterner provided live piano accompaniment (save for the scene in which you hear Mary sing; that audio came from the film) and afterwards Bruce Goldstein, the repertory program director, let the audience hang out and watch an old episode of This Is Your Life that featured Louise Dresser surprising her old friend Buster Keaton. What a great night and what a great film.

Wings

Charles "Buddy" Rogers, Clara Bow, and Richare Arlen in Wings.

Last month I was fortunate enough to attend a sold out screening of Wings (1927), the first film to win the Academy Award. Recently restored by Paramount, it was part of a three-week long William Wellman retrospective at Film Forum. William Wellman Jr. and Ben Burtt, who recreated the sound effects for the restored version, were on hand to introduce the film and answer questions.

One of the first films to tackle the subject of World War I, Wings is the tale of two young men, Jack Powell (Charles “Buddy” Rogers) and David Armstrong (Richard Arlen), rivals for the affections of Sylvia Lewis (Jobyna Ralston) who prefers David while the girl next door, Mary Preston (Clara Bow), is madly in love with Jack. The men enlist in the Air Service and are sent to training camp where after an initial dislike of each other, they are soon the best of friends. Sent to France, the two new combat pilots quickly become known for their daring flying. Meanwhile, Mary joins the war effort and is sent to France to drive an ambulance. While on leave in Paris, she runs into an inebriated Jack at the Folies-Bergère who fails to recognize her. Changing out of a borrowed dress she has donned to get Jack's attention, two MPs barge in, misunderstand the situation, and send her packing. Back at the front, David is shot down during a major air battle and presumed dead. But he survives, steals a German plane, and attempts to fly back to the American side only to run into Jack, hell bent on revenge, who spots the German plane and shoots it down. Jack soon realizes his mistake and reunites with David who offers him forgiveness before dying in Jack’s arms. Returning home a war hero Jack, now older and wiser, sees Mary and finally realizes that she’s the girl for him.

Before and after the restoration.

At the screening, Ben Burtt showed before and after clips to the audience to illustrate just how much work went into the restored film, which looks beautiful. In addition to the removal of dirt and scratches, colour tinting was added to certain scenes, including hand-tinting the flames from a gun, something that had been done back in the 1920s. And sound effects were added to the re-orchestrated original score like punches, shots, and popping champagne bubbles (but alas, no Wilhelm screams).

Wellman, who had been a pilot during World War I, was determined to give audiences an honest portrayal of war and the dog fights in particular still stand as some of the best aerial scenes ever shot. Much of this was due to the large number of men and planes made available to him by the War Department. So concerned was Wellman with the authenticity of the scenes, the lead actors were required to fly their own planes (can you imagine that happening today?) so their close-ups would look real. There are no special effects in Wings. If a plane crashes, a plane really crashes. In fact, Wellman employed stunt flyer Dick Grace whose specialty was crashing planes (Grace had one mishap during shooting that resulted in him breaking his neck; he recovered and went on to fly many more planes).

Wings also includes groundbreaking camera work. In the Folies-Bergère scene, there is an incredible tracking shot where the camera appears to fly across the tables; this was achieved by hanging a track from the ceiling, something that had never been done before. And for the aerial scenes, cinematographer Harry Perry mounted cameras on the planes, which the actors operated themselves, allowing shots that would not have been achieved otherwise.

Even for a pre-code film, Wings contains a remarkable amount of daring scenes for its time: At the Folies-Bergère, Jack and David are seen drunk and carousing with “dancers;” Clara Bow is briefly nude as are some men undergoing physicals at the recruitment office; a lesbian couple are clearly shown sitting at one of the tables at the Folies-Bergère; and there is a kiss between the two leading men.

 Gary Cooper in Wings.

As for the actors, Rogers is beautiful and Arlen is stiff as usual (I’ve never been a big fan). And Clara, well she steals every scene she’s in. Adorable and full of spunk, she’s heartbreaking during close-ups of her with tears in her eyes. But perhaps one of the most important actors in the film is a young Gary Cooper who appears in just one scene. Playing an older pilot, he speaks with Jack and David about destiny ("When your time comes, you're gonna get it."). He crashes his plane and dies soon after. Cooper is so commanding and striking looking in this scene that it helped launch his career and after viewing it, you'll see why.

The film is making the rounds of festivals and special screenings so if you get the chance to see it, please do. It’s been released on DVD and Blu-ray but nothing beats seeing it on the big screen.

Photos from Paramount Pictures.