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Showing posts with label Pre-code film. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pre-code film. Show all posts

Monday, August 10, 2026

Heat Lightning is one damn good pre-code melodrama

 


I must confess, I absolutely love watching early 1930s pre-code films on Turner Classic Movies. "Heat Lightning," 1934, is one of my favorites. These films could be rated PG or even G today but it's the adult dramas and themes in the films that panicked the short pants of the old-maid prudes of the Hays Commission way back then. And Heat Lightning was Aline MacMahon's first starring role. MacMahon was a great actress; heck, she'd be a big star in this era.


I am going to post a couple of 1934 reviews below. I know they are tough to read. I will then offer a brief review from me and add a couple more newspaper clips to go with the one above. Plan9Crunch thanks David Grudt of Long Beach, Calif., for digging through Newspaper Archives to find these old press gems.






OK, McMahon and co-star Ann Dvorak are Olga and Myra, sisters running a gas station on the old road through the hottest part of California (I always think near Baker, Calif.) but town is unnamed. At their station 110 degrees is a cool day. Olga is the protective older sister whose lived a lot. She won't let younger Myra go to a dance because she thinks young sister's boyfriend Steve is a bad guy.


A whole host of wonderful vintage stars are in the film. Jane Darwell and Edgar Kennedy are wonderfully comic as an old couple who stop by the station for a car repair. (Olga is also a mechanic.)

 

Two rich divorcees (Glenda Farrell and Ruth Donnelly) breeze in to spend the night in rooms the station lets. They're with a world-weary chauffer (Frank McHugh). An impoverished Mexican family stays the night in their vehicle and sings at night. An old man called "Popsy" is traveling with two "cutie-pies" he picked up. The sheriff occasionally shows up.


Tension mounts when two men, George (Preston Foster) and Jeff (Lyle Talbot) stop for the night. It turns out George is a former boyfriend of Olga's (from her old days). The pair are actually robbers who have killed a man in Salt Lake City. They're heading for the border but George, despite a nervous Jeff, is determined to first steal the jewels the rich divorcees have placed in the station's safe.


I won't say any more about the plot's resolution, but I'll list the pre-code elements, and why the silly Catholic Legion of decency panned the film.


-- In one scene, one of the "cutie pies" (Muriel Evans) tells her friend, "Say, it's your turn to sit up front with that old thigh-pincher."


-- Divorcee played by Glenda Farrell is forced to take a bath outside. Her chauffer (Frank McHugh), a married man, keeps guard and later they are a couple.


-- Despite her reservations and distrust of George, Olga spends the night with him. George is seen leaving her room early in the morning.


-- Although it's only barely implied, younger sister Myra, who sneaks out to the dance with boyfriend Steve, is treated coldly by him when he returns her home; this despite her obvious affection. Her sobbing afterwards with Olga hints that she was seduced.


-- The resolution, not to be told here, has violence and a nontraditional opinion on crime punishment.


This is a melodrama with stereotypes, but it has that Warner Bros/First National heart, with all the great actors of that era. Preston Foster and Aline MacMahon generate attraction despite the latter's wish not to feel it.


This film pops up on TCM a few times a year. Enjoy a couple more clips below.


-- Doug Gibson





Thursday, August 7, 2025

'Cozzilla!' the cool Godzilla film Toho frowns on; and another short review

 


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Welcome to Plan9Crunch. Today we are sharing two short reviews; films we may explore in greater detail later. The first, see poster above, is "Cozzilla," or Godzilla 1977. It's an Italian version from direcor Luigi Cozzi. Toho is not thrilled with it but it's a lot of fun, and was a success in Italy.


Plan9Crunch friend, author Rob Craig, sent us a DVD of this film, from DVD-R Party. It uses "Godzilla: King of the Monsters," as its template (although one scene from "Godzilla Raids Again" is included). Cozzi added color to appeal to Italian audiences. According to Craig, this was done by having translucent gel laid over film frames. Cozzi edited out some scenes and inserted World War II newsreel footage. Also, electronic music was provided by Fabio Frizzi, who later composed Zombi 2, added Craig.


I love this film version of Godzilla. I've seen it three times. It has the same psychedelic appeal of "Godzilla Versus the Smog Monster." The inclusion of the newsreel footage, which of course includes civilian casualties of war, is extremely sobering. It adds a higher amount of depth to the film. Godzilla seems an even greater killing machine. This increases the emotional punch of Dr. Serizawa's self sacrifice at the end.


You can catch "Cozzilla" on the Internet Archive, or order a DVD copy at DVD-R Party.


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Our second review is of a pre-code Warren William drama called "Bedside," from 1934 (see poster above). Warren made a fortune playing likable cads in these early sound films. He is a major-league cad in this film, worse than usual, but still likeable, darn it!


Warren outdoes himself in being a charlatan, swindler and heartbreaker. He's an X-Ray technician whom a nurse (Jean Muir) loves. She loans him money to finish med school (he needs one more year). Warren loses all the money gambling and lies -- from afar -- to her. Warren eventually buys (extorts) a medical degree from a disgraced doctor. He goes to the big city and through his charm achieves fame and riches as a doctor (with the help of PR man (Allen Jenkins). But another doctor (Donald Meek) does all the work.


Invariably, Warren is forced to do a real operation, one that will affect Muir's life. I'll stop there. This is a pretty creative tale. Warren's "doctor" character reminds me of Burt Lancaster's creation of "man of God" preacher Elmer Gantry. This film pops up occasionally on Turner Classic Movies.


We hope you enjoy these films.Stay tuned to our Plan9Crunch YouTube page where will discuss the 2025 horror film "Sinners." It will likely air in early September.


-- Reviews by Doug Gibson

Saturday, January 26, 2019

Broadminded -- Lugosi plays comedy with Joe E. Brown



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Broadminded, First National, 1931, starring Joe E. Brown, Bela Lugosi, Ona Munson, William Collier Jr. and Thelma Todd. 3 stars - 


This semi-obscure Joe E. Brown comedy is a treat for cult movie fans who want to watch a different Lugosi. As Pancho Arango, a hot-tempered Latin lover, Lugosi shows his comic skills in dueling with the clownish, wide-mouthed Brown, who pesters him. 

Plot involves Brown and Collier as playboys traveling across the country and meeting girls. In California the leads fall in love with various blondes, including Munson, who played Belle Watling in Gone with the Wind. 

Film has funny moments and Lugosi shows his versatile, comedic  character acting skills. I caught this long-awaited viewing courtesy of Turner Classic Movies. Opening scene is of a "baby party" for adults that is prurient when one looks at the women, and creepy when looking at the males, especially Brown! Despite the odd opening, this is a typical well-done First National Pictures pre-code comedy. Thelma Todd was a beautiful actress who did comedy well, even appearing as a star in Hal Roach shorts. 

The best part of this film is that Bela Lugosi easily disproves a long-held idea by too many that he can only horror films. He has great comic timing and would have made a dependable comic foil for Brown in several films had studios execs had an inkling. Lugosi also showed great comic skills in the 1933 star-fest, International House, with W.C,. Fields. 

Sunday, October 7, 2018

The old Dark House, a creepy, witty Halloween offering




By Doug Gibson

“The Old Dark House,” James Whale’s 1932 take on what happens when travelers stop at a dreary, tomb-like mansion, with creepy occupants, on a dark and rainy night, is not as well-known as Whale’s other Universal offerings, such as “Frankenstein,” “The Invisible Man,” or “Bride of Frankenstein.” That’s probably because it was considered lost for about 30 years. We’re lucky it’s a found film, because it’s a crackling good, creepy horror/comedy.

The plot: Squabbling husband and wife Philip and Margaret Waverton (Raymond Massey and Gloria Stuart) are driving through the Welsh mountains, thoroughly lost late at night during a brutal rainstorm. In their back seat is their relaxed, witty friend, Roger Penderel, (brilliantly played by Melvyn Douglas). In a superb special-effects scene, the Waverton car barely escapes a massive mudslide. They spot a mansion and stop, requesting shelter for the night. The door is answered by a brutish, very fearsome looking mute servant, Morgan, played by Boris Karloff. Later we learn that Morgan has a drinking problem. Eventually, the trio is greeted by an odd brother and sister pair, Horace Femm, (Ernest Thesiger), and his dourly religious sister, Rebecca, played by Eva Moore. The Femms inform the guests that they have a 102-year-old father, Sir Roderick Femm, bedridden upstairs, Interestingly, a woman, Elspeth Dudgeon, plays Sir. Roderick, although the actress’ sex was kept from audiences in 1932.

Early on there is a very creepy, pre-code scene where Margaret Waverton, very scantily clad in her underwear, is intruded upon by the religious fanatic, Rebecca Femm. While lambasting Margaret for her immorality, Moore’s Rebecca forces her hand on Margaret’s exposed upper chest, just above the breasts. It discombobulates Margaret, who is now very wary of the house. She has good reason; later a drunken Morgan attacks her on the stairs.

Later a couple more travelers seek refuge in the mansion. They are the garrolous, obese, somewhat crude, but wealthy Sir William Porterhouse, played well by Charles Laughton, along with an unemployed chorus girl, Gladys DuCane Perkins, (Lilian Bond), who is Porterhouse’s girlfriend, although there’s no real love between them. He has money, and she has a pleasing body. In one scene, Laughton effectively conveys the inner sadness and tragedy of Porterhouse, a man whose wife is died, feels empty and is no longer attractive enough to obtain love. Eventually, Penderel (remember him) and Bond form an attachment and fall in love, without too much consternation from Porterhouse.

As the weather stays dangerous outside, events inside the old, dark house get more perilous. I don’t want to give away the plot except to mention that we get a chance to see the very feminine-looking 102-year-old Sir Roderick Femm, who informs the guests that there is a third younger Femm, named Saul, who is by far the most dangerous inhabitant of the house. This all leads to a pretty thrilling, and witty at times, conclusion.

“The Old Dark House” is great gothic comedy/horror. It’s based on a long-ago bestselling novel, called “Benighted,” by J.B. Priestley. Whales stuck pretty faithfully to the plot, but omitted a lot of philosophic sophistry from the novel and focused on the action. The director looked for droll, humorous lines in the midst of chaos or fear. Thesiger’s Horace Femm has the best lines, such as “We make our own electric light here, and we are not very good at it. Pray, don’t be alarmed if they go out altogether,” and, when picking up some flowers, says, “my sister was on the point of arranging these flowers,” and then tossing them into the fireplace.”

The film is about 71 minutes long. It pops up on Turner Classic Movies but can be seen at YouTube above. A Blu-Ray version has recently been released. It's a worthy, out-of-the-box choice for a Halloween film selection.

Thursday, June 28, 2018

See America Thirst a pre-code comedy with Harry Langdon, Slim Summerville




Review by Doug Gibson

Back in California, and that means a trip to UCLA’s Film & Television Archive to view a mostly-lost film. Harry Langdon was the subject again (two years ago I saw and reviewed My Weakness). This time I viewed a version of Harry’s 1930 Universal “buddy-comedy” film, See America Thirst, directed by William James Craft. It’s a thrill for me to see Harry’s hard-to-find films; next on my bucket list will be a trip to the Library of Congress to see the Hal Roach shorts that lack sound discs.

Speaking of sound, one mild disappointment is that the archive’s print lacked any. And the print I viewed was clearly a sound print. There was way too much talking, and no titles that would have clued a silent version. I know that a version of See America Thirst with sound has played film festivals. I don’t know if UCLA has it or it was my fault when I requested the film. Did I choose a silent version?

The print was in very poor shape, muddy, blurry at times with a couple of vertical jumps and rough transitions. But that didn’t bother me, it adds to the excitement of  viewing a film that is virtually lost and appreciation to the archive for preserving it.

So, here’s my synopsis of the film. To help overcome the dialogue loss, I re-read my friend Ed Watz’ recap of the film in my friend Michael Hayde's biography of Langdon with Chuck Harter, The Little Elf. I also received some input from another friend, artist Nicole Arciola, who has seen the sound version of See America Thirst.

Harry and co-star Slim Summerville are hobos on a train. They get kicked off and try to regroup. They see some sheep and find ducks. Later they encounter an inquisitive police officer. Harry tries to hide the duck (similar to a scene in “Tramp Tramp Tramp”) and fails. The cop chases them and the hobos hide in the back of a truck that is carrying bootleg liquor and driven by hoodlums. A pair of other hoodlums in a vehicle chase them. Gunfire ensues. Harry and Slim are oblivious to it all. A carrying bag falls into the back. Alcohol leaks onto both hobos and they get drunk. A grenade in the back goes off and the vehicle explodes on a bridge. Harry and Slim fall into a river. Harry swims with exaggerated speed to the shore. (Reading Watz I learned that Harry said he couldn’t swim and Summerville said he’d better learn fast.) On the shore the pair discover the bag that fell into the back. It is stuffed with a fortune in cash. As Arciola noted to me, Harry says “Money money money” in much the same manner he did in the last film he made, Pistol Packin’ Nitwits.

Now rich, the former hobos are living it up, renting vehicles, dressed to the nines and going to gangster nightclubs. But the money belonged to the Spumoni crime family and the boss wants it back. After telling the hood who lost the money to take a gun and kill himself (which leads to a lame joke from the returning hood that he missed), Spumoni assigns a hired killer to take out Harry and Summerville at the nightclub.
Singing at the nightclub is a beautiful blonde, played by starlet of the era Bessie Love, who is also apparently a hoodlum’s moll. She’s very scantily dressed in the pre-code manner. After her song the killer approaches the pair. Once they are aware they are being hunted, Harry trembles. Ironically, shaking is a trait used by an even more fearsome killer who is hunting the hired killer. Believing that both Harry and Summerville want to kill them, the hoods pay a fortune to Harry and Summerville so THEY WON’T KILL THEM. (During this scene, a sign in the nightclub switches from TAXI, to AMBULANCE, and finally to HEARSE. The humorous sign switch is supposed to indicate the peril facing Harry and Summerville).



What follows is a series of sometimes amusing scenes where Harry and Summerville are catered to by the hoods, encounter “gangster-friendly” lodgings with armored protection for the beds and disguised platters of food that really contain weapons that fire when the covering is removed. One sequence that lasts way too long, losing its comedy value due to the poor pacing, is Summerville discovering cannons that move and jut outside the windows of a high-rise. Harry, sitting on a cannon, almost falls off, then Summerville almost falls off, and they eventually create a sort of bridge that allows them to hop to another floor. Also, the pair romance the beautiful blonde (Bessie Love) who tells then she’s really a law enforcement agent trying to gather evidence against the Spumonis.

As the film nears its climax, the Spumoni leader, vacationing in Florida, meets up with the real killer they think Harry is. As a result, all the gangsters in Chicago, Spumoni and the rival gang, team up to kill Harry and Summerville, who are in an armored vehicle on the street, expecting, with Bessie Love, to see and be protected from a gang fight. Instead all the gangsters head for the vehicle.

It seems all over for Harry and Summerville, except (and sans sound I’m unsure a bit of how this developed) a professor has invented knockout gas that can be sprayed on the bad guys. Harry and Slim manage to do this and leave all the gangsters unconscious on the streets. (Now Ed Watz is no fan of this film, but he acknowledges that a scene in which Harry, who has run out of the gas -- accepts that his finger used as a spray gun has knocked out the bad guys – is well done. Actually, Summerville is on a canopy spraying away. It is a funny “Little Elf” moment in the film.

Another strong moment in the film is when near the end where Harry, expecting to see his beloved Bessie Love, encounters her in the arms of her fiancé, the District Attorney. This is very similar in pathos to the same type of scene in “Three’s  A Crowd.”

The epilogue involves the pair, with ragged clothes after the battle, discovering that the carrying case full of money now has no money; they lost it. In another decent “Little Elf” moment, Harry wags his finger in disapproval at Summerville, and money comes out of his cuffs. It’s discovered that the money is sown into Harry’s clothes. The pair leave still rich. The End.

Watz is correct in his assessment that the 75-minute film is at times poorly paced. Some of the gags are very forced but the last 10 minutes, in my opinion, are very strong. Watz believes the film is one of Harry’s worst performances. I can’t agree or disagree without hearing the sound. Just watching the visual action, Harry seems more expressive than Summerville, who is more of a straight man. Bessie Love is a very attractive presence, but her part is very small for a third-billed leading lady. Reviews that are cited in “The Little Elf” range from acceptable to the reviewers quite liking the film.



The viewer gets the impression that some of the comedy scenes may be based on vaudeville skits that Harry and Summerville maybe performed in the past. At least scenes are played as if they might have been vaudeville skits. Some of the pair’s banter when romancing Bessie Love plays like that as well as scenes such as the boys getting drunk.

The sets and locations in See America Thirst are above average. There are modernistic sets, particularly in the lodgings of the gangsters. The hoods are played for laughs, as is prohibition, which existed when the film was made. Even with a muddy print, Harry looks healthy and young in the film.

Some old hands in the cast include Stanley Fields and Tom Kennedy as well as a very young Walter Brennan.

If you are in Southern California, go to UCLA and see this film, and My Weakness. It’s not at all difficult to make an appointment to see these almost-lost movies, and the staff at the university library is very helpful. 

(The See America First photos used in this review are courtesy of Richard Finegan).

Sunday, April 22, 2018

Peach-O-Reno a great intro to Wheeler and Woolsey



By Doug Gibson

Until a few years ago, I hadn't had much experience watching the old-time vaudeville/film comedian team of Bert Wheeler and Robert Woolsey, but I'm glad I was introduced in full to the pair in "Peach-O-Reno," released by RKO Radio Pictures on Christmas Day 1931. This pre-code musical comedy with the team is simply marvelous. I tag it as a lower-brow (and that's not an insult) Marx Brothers-type film. It's very fast-paced, extremely witty, and has many fun musical numbers as well.

The plot involves Wheeler and Woolsey as Reno divorce lawyers Wattles and Swift. They have snagged all the divorce business in Reno, the divorce capital of the world because they keep it cheap and, let's face it, they're the wittiest divorce lawyers in town. They're also the coolest. The pair turns their divorce factory into a swinging casino at night. Wattles is the young attorney who more ladies swoon over. Swift, with his wit and fast moves, probably gets more action with the women.

One day, Joe and Aggie Bruno head to Reno -- in separate train seats -- to divorce. They squabbled on their 25th anniversary. Not far behind them are daughters Prudence and Pansy, trying to stop the divorce. The four naturally end up at Wattles and Swift, who have a full house, which includes a rich cowboy type who intends to murder Wattles and Swift for trying to give his wife a divorce.

I'm not going to give away the entire plot. Just sit back and enjoy the hour and three minutes. Things move from the divorce office to the casino, where young Wattles (Wheeler) dresses in drag to avoid the jealous husband. This pre-code sequence is absolutely hilarious, especially while Swift swiftly tries to gain lip time with one of the Bruno daughters. Eventually, everything gets settled in divorce court the next morning, which changes to a marriage court.

There's beautiful women, who change from their usher duties in the divorce office to more scantily clad duties in the casino at night. There's lots of gunfire but no one really gets injured. There's excellent Groucho Marx-type banter from Swift (Woolsey) with more than a few customers, including the matronly Aggie Bruno (Cora Witherspoon), and of course, there's several excellent musical numbers.

I'm glad we have Turner Classic Movies to show these films, and remind us of the many comedy talents that were out there besides the most famous, such as Chaplin, The Marx Brothers, etc. Viewers will enjoy "Preach-O-Reno," and like myself, start looking for more Wheeler and Woolsey to enjoy. It was directed by William A. Seiter. The imdb page is here. To learn more about the comedy team, go to this interview with W&W historian Ed Watz.

Monday, September 11, 2017

What -- No Beer? Keaton's OK, Durante's a pain, but film grows on you


1933, MGM, 66 minutes, Buster Keaton as Elmer J. Butts, Jimmy Durante as Jimmy Potts, Phyllis Barry as Hortense, Edward Brophy as Spike Moran, Roscoe Ates as Schultz and Charles Giblyn as Chief. Schlock-Meter rating: Six stars out of 10 stars.

By Doug Gibson

What -- No Beer? is a curio, a relic from the past. The plot of the comedy deals with prohibition and efforts to repeal it, an issue which dominated headlines more than 80 years ago. It was a box office winner due to its stars, Keaton and Durante, but is generally regarded as a mediocre comedy of the 1930s. It was the pair's last film together. Keaton's drinking problem and absences from the set caused the studio, MGM, to fire him even before the film was released. It was the start of a spiral into film oblivion for Keaton, and his career really did not surge again until television began to thrive two decades later.

The plot: Jimmy Potts (Durante) is a barber and Elmer J. Butts (Keaton) is a luckless businessman. Potts, incorrectly thinking prohibition has been repealed, convinces Butts to invest his money in a long-closed brewery. The stone-faced Butts moons over a pretty gangster moll named Hortense (Barry). He wants to be a millionaire so he can win her love. Seeing no other way to earn the million bucks, he agrees to get into the beer business. Police quickly raid the brewery and arrest the pair, but discover there's no alcohol in the brew. Later, they learn that a stuttering tramp at the deserted plant (Ates) was once a great brewer and real beer is made, which is a big hit. Soon the police and the mob muscle in on Potts and Butts.

There is a sexy pre-code scene in which lovestruck Keaton splashes sexy Barry's dress with water and she disrobes down to sheer underwear while the comic Elmer tries to avoid seeing what the audience is enjoying. The first time I saw this film Durante's obnoxious and loud character annoyed me but it does improve on repeat viewings and one is able to ignore Durante's excess and enjoy the time-capsule period and the final major comedy feature that Keaton starred in. His physical prowess is evident despite the boozing.

Durante bellows and brays and cracks many unfunny jokes. Although he is clearly half-bagged in many of the scenes, one can still admire Keaton. His talent for physical comedy is on display in several scenes, and his naivete and trusting demeanor leads to misunderstandings that bring laughs, particularly a scene where gangsters, sent to muscle him, interpret his bland replies as extreme coolness under pressure, and leave impressed.

What! No Beer? is not a great movie, but it's worth a rental to see an early sound Keaton offering.


Saturday, June 24, 2017

Dracula's Daughter the latest Scripts From the Crypt offering


Review by Doug Gibson

The latest BearManorMedia Scripts From the Crypt offering, "Dracula's Daughter" (buy it here) continues the high quality of the cult films books' series. Penned mostly by Gary D Rhodes, it satisfies a constant of our genre fans: it breaks new ground. New nuggets, big and small, of scholarship are unearthed. And, as with all the books, you have Tom Weaver's observations and opinions. Love them or hate them, they are unique and the product of an original mind. There's also an introduction and essay on the music of the film from contributors David Colton and Michael Lee.

The best reading comes from Rhodes' exhaustive treatment of the film's creation. Early on, he discusses the role of women in vampire lore, using Theda Bara and other vamps to explain that vampire once meant a woman who sucked the heart and soul out of their doomed male lovers. This is relevant because later we learn that early treatments for the film included a female vampire who was sexually aggressive and delighted in the torture, degradation and dissipation of her male captives. (I am assuming blog readers have seen "Dracula's Daughter." If not, do so now.) Gloria Holden's sympathetic yet resolute Countess emerged as a result of the watering down of the plot's actions.

As Rhodes' notes, "Dracula's Daughter," a 1936 release, emerged as the moralistic production code was gaining strength. Scripts and treatments for the film endured rough seas with the censors. John Balderston, Kurt Neumann, and RC Sherriff all had their hands on the typewriter. Eventually Garrett Fort's subdued, more sanitized script became the film. Milton Carruth, who edited "Dracula," also impacted "Dracula's Daughter" with his editing, Rhodes notes.

Some of the early treatments would have been interestingly daring. The Countess as a man hunter, entering the film after already killing a lover/slave. She nearly physically, spiritually and mentally destroys the hero before succumbing. Screenwriters assured the Laemmle overlords, soon to lose the studio, that a woman conducting such sexual sadism on men would pass code approval. Witness what Balderston wrote in his treatment: "The use of a female vampire instead of a male gives us the chance to play up SEX and CRUELTY legitimately."

At one time James Whale was slated to direct. He might have been able to convey such a film in a subtle manner to fool the censors. Lambert Hillyer, a talented, workmanlike, solid director who eventually got the role, lacked the Whale magic to do that had he even tried.

We learn that Bela Lugosi was once considered to be in the film. He was even paid $4,000. However, a reading of the fascinating screenplay excerpt, from Sherriff, of a prologue that would have featured Lugosi creating his daughter, is so bizarre and sexually depraved that I think it would have trouble getting made even in the pre-code era. Lugosi, and a bunch of sadistic companions terrorize the peasantry, kidnapping women, and with exaggerated faux grotesque courtesy, torturing and murdering them. "Dracula's Daughter" is made a vampire by the Count.

But that is not the "Dracula's Daughter" that we watch today. It's a fine film with a haunting performance by Gloria Holden. Otto Kruger and Marguerite Churchill are a better hero couple than David Manners and Helen Chandler. Kruger and Churchill actually have romantic chemistry. Irving Pichel is very creepy as Holden's mortal companion, and presumably her lover. His quiet rage at watching Holden prefer Kruger to him as an immortal companion is suitably sinister. Nan Gray (Grey) is great as a poor girl, perhaps streetwalker, who eventually dies, we assume due to the Countess' unquenchable thirst. And Edward Van Sloan is back as Van Helsing, inexplicably called Von Helsing in the sequel.

Yes, Dracula's Daughter is an above-average film. The book informs us that it received generally good reviews and appears to have done well at the box office. But as Weaver rather shrewdly notes, one can watch "Dracula's Daughter" and not be convinced that the title character is really a vampire. We know she is only because that is the script's design. But this is a bloodless film. As Weaver points out, she is killed by an arrow shot through her heart; anyone would die of that.

"Dracula's Daughter," as much as I enjoy it, is neutered by the production code. It's respected within the genre, but never will it be placed anywhere near the pedestal that say, "Bride of Frankenstein" has. "Dracula's Daughter" is not a film that takes risks or tries to pierce our deepest obsessions or fears as James Whale does. It's a worthy entry at a time when Universal was still making at least A-minus budgeted horror flicks. Perhaps its finest moment is that it takes the action back to Transylvania in the final reel, something that "Dracula," still a better film, did not do.

Lest anyone think I am ungrateful, let me reiterate my deep appreciation for writers such as Rhodes and Weaver, and others, as well as thanks to BearManor Media for publishing these types of books. They are manna for me and I'm sure so many others. So much minutiae to eagerly wade through -- we love it! We learn, for example, the salaries of the stars. Holden, incredibly, only received $1,450 for a performance that is almost iconic. Kruger did a great job, but really, $9,583.30 is out of whack compared to Holden. Churchill received $1,250, Van Sloan $2,400, Pichel, who really earns it, $2,950, and unbelievably, Nan Gray (Grey), who probably is second-most remembered due to the much-debated lesbian overtones to her scene with Holden, received a paltry $200!

The entire script as shot is in the book, and as I have mentioned, the many treatments are included. There's a section on contemporary reviews the movie received; there's a fascinating press book. As mentioned, the whole back story of the film is captured, including even a "Junior" Laemmle-inspired treatment for the end. There's dozens of photos, and a tender heart-wrenching letter from Holden late in life to film fan David Del Valle, in which she stoically talks about the tragic death of her son, We even get a treatment for an adaptation of "Carmilla," another female vampire tale. This one wasn't filmed

I could spend many more paragraphs detailing what's in these pages. But just go buy the book. It's a gem. I can't wait for the next one, which is slated to be about two unrealized films from "Dracula" director Tod Browning.


Friday, February 10, 2017

'Hollywood's Pre-Code Horrors ...' a breezy recap of a golden era


Review by Doug Gibson

On the cover of BearManor Media's enjoyable new offering, "Hollywood's Pre-Code Horrors 1931-1934," is the infamous still from "Freaks," the one where the murderous trapeze artist Cleopatra, played by Olga Baclanova, is seen post-mutilation by the sadistic, vengeful carnival freaks. She's turned into a type of duck woman, and can only quack.

That "end scene" jarred me as a child watching the only version of "Freaks" then available in the 1970s, at least for TV consumption. It reminds that for decades the Hollywood pre-code horrors were seen on TV only in truncated versions, victims of the mid 1930s censors. "Freaks," by the way, has an epilogue beyond the duck woman. * However, like "Dr, Jekyll and Mr Hyde," and "Mystery of the Wax Museum," "Freaks" and other films, were even pushed out of circulation by the studios; a few were thought lost.

The films you could see: "Dracula," "Frankenstein," "King Kong," etc. were missing memorable scenes, such as the vampire's death groans, the Frankenstein monster tossing a child into a lake, or men being eaten by spiders on Kong Island. It's been about 20 years ago that fans finally began to see these films as they were presented in the pre-code era; first in video, later on DVD and now the Internet and streaming offer options.

With this comes more genre books on the pre-code era and its movies. BearManor's author, Raymond Valinoti Jr., provides an entertaining, informative look at these early '30s horror films. It's not as deep a dive into the pre-code horror era as McFarland's "The Turn to Gruesomeness in American Horror ...", but its breezy, one-film-after-another style makes for an easier read for genre fans. And the chapters are packed with information despite the slender several-pages chapters. I'd wager that the average genre fan will learn at least one fact about each film that he or she didn't know before.

Cast and crew, plot summary, the background of each film, why it was released, an explanation of the pre-code elements of each film and how they were received; audience and critics' reactions; recollections by principals and the financial fortunes of the films are popular topics in the chapters. All the essentials are covered, including "Doctor X," "Island of Lost Souls," all the Universals, including the delightful "The Old Dark House"; "White Zombie," and the grisly "Murders in the Zoo." In all, 19 films are profiled, including "The Mask of Fu Manchu" and even "Supernatural," an obscure pre-code horror directed by Victor Halperin with Bette Davis. It's the sole movie featured that I have yet to see.

Valinoti is a fine writer, and the book features a valuable introduction to the genre as well as an epilogue discussing post 1934 genre films. Frankly, I think "The Raven," "Mad Love" and "Bride of Frankenstein" should have chapters in this book. However, "Dracula's Daughter" and "The Walking Dead" are appropriately noted as films that were somewhat sanitized due to the code's renewed strength.

The author overdoes it a little in pointing out the sexism, racism, nativism, and other isms of some of the films. I don't disagree but these are 1931-1934 films, and need to be assessed in that context.

But there is little to complain about. "Hollywood's Pre-Code Horrors ..." is another fine BearManor Media offering to satisfy those whom delight in the minutiae of film genre.

* The TV version of "Freaks" I saw may have been the roadshow version that was peddled by exploitation filmmaker Dwain Esper long after the film was removed from general release by MGM.

Saturday, February 4, 2017

'Murders In the Zoo' has the most sadistic pre-code scene



By Doug Gibson

“Murders in the Zoo” is a largely forgotten fairly large-budget Paramount film from 1933. It merits far more attention. Like its Paramount predecessor, the better-known “Island of Lost Souls," it has scenes of sadism and pain that are unique for its era. Film critic Leonard Maltin has called the film “astonishingly grisly.” In any event, it’s a great tale and well worth owning.

The opening scene is a shocker. A man, Taylor, is being calmly tortured by Lionel Atwill’s character, who comments that he’ll never kiss another man’s wife again. Taylor is left in the jungle, presumably to die due to the elements or wild animals. Hands tied behind his back, he staggers forward. As he turns his face, the camera reveals that his lips have been sewn shut! And his pain-filled, terrified expression adds horror and discomfort to the scene.

The film involves a sadistic, psychopathic millionaire sportsman named Eric Gorman, played very well by Atwill, who murders men who display a romantic interest in his wife, Evelyn, played by Kathleen Burke (the panther woman in “… Lost Souls.”  The murdered man, we learn, had kissed – in jest – Evelyn. Gorman announces that he has disappeared, dryly telling his wife that he "didn't say" why he left.

Gorman returns from the Indo-China region with many wild animals that are put in a financially struggling zoo. The principals there include Professor Evans (Harry Beresford), his pretty daughter Jerry Evans (Gail Patrick), and her romantic interest,  Dr. Jack Woodford (played by future cowboy films star Randolph Scott). Meanwhile, Evelyn, despite her brutish husband, is engaged in an adulterous affair with playboy John Lodge, played by Roger Hewitt. Also thrown into the plot for comic relief is alcoholic public relations man Peter Yates, played by Charlie Ruggles, a popular comedy player of that era. In fact, Ruggles is top-billed! 

More murders occur prior to the climax. It’s interesting to see films other than “… Lost Souls” that feature the iconic, beautiful Burke, and she’s not a sympathetic character. Nevertheless, the audience cares about her fate because her husband is a world-class movie villain. Atwill’s pursuit of Burke’s Evelyn from their home to the zoo, where he throws her, alive, over a bridge with alligators below is chilling.

By far the most interesting character is Atwill. He is absolutely superb portraying a combination of intimidation, strength and cruelty. Picture a combination of Leslie Bank’s Zaroff in “The Most Dangerous Game” and Lee J. Cobb’s Johnny Friendly in “On the Waterfront.” A merciless character, he sees his wife as his possession. Atwill’s Gorman is also cunning, able to change his personalities and facial expressions on a whim to to his advantages and desires. The scene where he demands sex from his unwilling, repulsed wife is macabre. He taunts her with brutal, pre-murder sexual humiliation much the way Fredric March's Mr. Hyde did to streetwalker Ivy, played by Miriam Hopkins in "Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde," another shocking pre-code horror.

In one of most erotic pre-code scenes ever, Hopkins' Ivy comes close to seducing the Dr. Jekyll side of March's character, which eventually unleashes the sadistic Hyde.


Atwill’s performance is worthy of Lon Chaney’s best silent offerings and it would have been interesting to have seen Chaney in the role. Scott is semi-bland as the ultimate hero who gets the girl but it’s fun to see him in a non-cowboy role.

Obviously, once the code was enforced, for decades viewers missed the opening lips sown shut scene. Since it serves as sort of a prologue, it could easily be cut. Another scene, less shocking but perhaps reminiscent of the morals codes of the early 1930s, that was cut for decades was a tipsy Ruggles, waking up after fainting from seeing a snake, asking if anyone knew where a laundry was.

Do you get it? It's a kind of funny, but what's even funnier is that it once offended censors.

"Murders in the Zoo" made money for Paramount but not a lot. The grisly opening scene may have scared off repeat viewings, and a publicity stunt by the studio of using real animals in a scene backfired, as the animals went out of control, with deadly fights and one panther escaping for a while.

Thursday, November 3, 2016

It's election season: Enjoy 'The Dark Horse' again



The Dark Horse, 1932, 75 minutes, B and W, First National Pictures, directed by Alfred E. Green. Starring Guy Kibbee as Zachary Hicks, Warren William as Hal S. Blake, Bette Davis as Kay Russell, Vivienne Osborne as Maybelle Blake, Hal's ex-wife, Berton Churchill as William A. Underwood and Frank McHugh as Joe. Rating: 7 stars out of 10.

By Doug Gibson

A quick note: "The Dark Horse" is one of those wonderful 1930s programmers that would sit neglected in a film library (or perhaps sit seldom seen in a Bette Davis film collection DVD) if it wasn't for Turner Classic Movies. Film-lovers are in debt to TMC, which daily offers an invaluable history lesson of cinema with its offerings.

Now, on to "The Dark Horse." This is a delightful satire of politics that proves that, even 76 years ago, we weren't fooled by the absurdities of the political arena. Veteran actor Guy Kibbee plays, Zachary Hicks, a bumbling fool of a man who is accidentally nominated by his "Progressive" Party to be governor of an unnamed state after the two front-runners are deadlocked.

A party secretary, Kay Russell, (a very young Bette Davis) recommends that a fast-talking, charming cad of a man Hal S. Blake (forgotten leading man Warren William) be bailed out of jail -- where's he sitting due to unpaid child support -- to run Hicks' campaign. Blake does a masterful job, all while trying to stay one step ahead of his scheming, vindictive ex-wife (Vivienne Osborne) and romancing wary secretary Russell.

The key to the film, though, is the dumbness and naivete of 50sh Hays, thrust out of nowhere. Kibbee is perfect in the role. He provides understated humor in his misunderstanding of situations and constant "yes ... and maybe no" to any question. William's political operative is uncannyingly on-target, you could almost picture him spinning on cable news shows today. Davis hasn't much to do but viewers can sense her screen presence that would lead her to stardom. A fun, fast-paced film that still has relevance today, it's well worth watching when it's on TCM. Watch the trailer here.

Notes: Kibbee was a very much in demand character actor and B-film starrer in the 30s and early 40s. He is best known as the corrupt governor controlled by Jim Taylor in Frank Capra's 1939 classic "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington." He also starred in the only sound version of Sinclair Lewis' tale "Babbitt." Kibbee is great as Babbitt in that seldom-seen 1934 film, which aired recently on TCM. Frank McHugh, who played William's political sidekick, is best known as Father Tim Dowd in the 1944 Bing Crosby classic "Going My Way."


Saturday, October 15, 2016

The Turn to Gruesomeness in American Horror Films: A review


Review by Doug Gibson

"The Turn to Gruesomeness in American Horror Films: 1931 to 1936," by Jon Towlson, McFarland (mcfarlandpub.com) (800-253-2187), has a provocative thesis. Towlson differs with other scholars that early sound horror films were tamer than the so-called torture porn today. I was skeptical of that claim. I abhor garbage such as the "Saw" and "Hostel" films; conversely, I love the early- to mid-1930s cycle of horrors. However, I must confess that Towlson makes a pretty good case.

While we watch these old movies, with nary a cuss word and the obligatory "good" ending, often with a heterosexual couple embracing, it's easy to forgot what we've seen on the screen is pretty darn gruesome and sadistic. An iconic reminder of such can be glanced above at the book's cover, with Bela Lugosi, as Dr. Mirakle, torturing to death the prostitute played by Arlene Francis in "Murders In the Rue Morgue." She's on a cross, looking a lot like a female Christ.

But work the brain to think of the other classic oldies. The "Frankenstein" monster tossing a child to drown. "Dracula" killing a young flower girl. "Dr. X"'s face melting. The deranged doctor in "Mad Love" played by Peter Lorre seems to achieve orgasm as he watches a faux torture scene in the Grand Guignol. Or a mad wax sculpture artist in "Mystery of the Wax Museum," with tender voice, leading a young lovely to have hot wax poured on her. Or the nymphomaniac daughter and sadistic father in "The Mask of Fu Manchu." Or the "Freaks" turning Cleopatra into a bird. Or implied necrophilia and overt Satanism ("The Black Cat"). Or finally, the scene that sticks with me: the unlucky admirer of a sadist's wife who gets his lips sown together because he kissed the said sadist's wife; such occurs in"Murders In the Zoo." And what about the implicit bestiality in "Island of Lost Souls?"

These are grisly images, and just because they are not as explicit as what we see today doesn't lessen their shock value. It may even enhance it, as Towlson explains, with the use of shadows, sound, symbols, and the force of these things, which can play on the viewers' imagination. As the author notes, many of these films were either locked away for decades or played in heavily censored .versions until only a generation ago.

"Five reels of transgression followed by one reel of retribution" is a quote from the Nation magazine. It's the title of the longest chapter, the one that provides overviews of the films discussed. That phrase probably captures the heart of the book. Towlson claims that having a happy ending, or a side plot with goofy guests or wisecrack reporters, allowed the early horror filmmakers to get a lot of the horror, with sadism and shocks into the films. Is there a 1930's horror film from a major company without a "good" ending? Even "Freaks" has a tacked-on scene with a guilty Hans being consoled after the shocking scene of Cleopatra post-torture.

The book details the many battles, and concessions made with censors, to get the films completed and into theaters. There's a lot of tantalizing what ifs. What if "The Bride of Frankenstein," a superb film, had followed its earlier "Return of Frankenstein" plot where the monster kills his creator and his wife, but still, a character with pathos, draws to his knees imploring a kind word from God. At that point, a bolt of lightning kills the monster. That's a pretty cool ending; I'm sure James Whale would have loved it.

Or what of "Dracula's Daughter," still a fine film -- with pretty overt lesbianism that the prudish censors missed -- which was intended to have a prologue with Dracula and friends both ravishing and consuming captive young women. In fact, screenwriter John Balderston, Towlson tells us, was urging that the film push the boundaries of horror to more shocking levels. Alas, "Dracula's Daughter" was filmed in that mid-30s when the censors were putting more muscle on the horror filmmakers. It's one of the last of the pre-code horrors.

If you don't believe that the earlier films pushed more buttons than the later ones through the 40s, take the test. Watch "Dr. X" and then watch "The Return of Dr. X"; watch the Frederic March "Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde," with an erotic scene between the good doctor and a prostitute (Miriam Hopkins) and watch later adaptations. Watch "Dracula" and compare it to "Son of Dracula." Or "Bride of Frankenstein" and then "Son of Frankenstein." Although still-excellent films, much of the sadism, the lust, the sheer enjoyment of wallowing in wickedness was taken away after 1936.

Towlson devotes chapters to how the filmmakers managed to get around the censors -- it was always a chess game -- with the cheesy endings of love and kisses. MGM in particular would have wisecracking reporters suddenly announce marriage at the end. Universal would have cast members in films such as "The Raven" and "The Black Cat" make wisecracks very soon after experiencing, and surviving, intense horror. Towlson surmises that the these were subtle protests of the directors who wanted to make their "happy endings" as unrealistic as possible. Maybe, but I think that during the Great Depression, weary movie-goers wanted scares that came with happy endings. Real life wasn't ending so well.

Another chapter deals with the film censors, the Breen people, finally asserting their will and "cleaning" the movies up." As Towlson notes, this had an effect on new movies such as "The Walking Dead," "Devil Doll" and the aforementioned "Dracula's Daughter." It also helped bring in the horror ban that lasted a few years until the industry realized the public wanted more monsters, even if they were a little sanitized.

Towlson's book is a brainy one and it may take some careful reading. There's a section on how these films' critics of a couple of generations ago clash with more modern scholarship, and so on. But it's a rewarding read because it brings us to the table of the filmmakers, what they wanted to create, how far they wanted to go and were able to go. We're witnesses to the negotiations with the movie industry and state censors. I was surprised to learn that in the early 1930s, the film studios were often helped by industry censors who argued their cases with more restrictive state censors.

And, this is very important, watch the movies that are described in this book. It will make the viewing a more rewarding experience.

Sunday, January 31, 2016

'A Soldier's Plaything' was a Harry Langdon feature in 1930



By Doug Gibson

One problem that film comic Harry Langdon had, throughout his entire sound career, was that his big-budget films with major studios bombed. The failure of the films were not Langdon’s fault, he performed well in all of them. And the films have gained in critical popularity in the 70 to 80 years after their release. Obviously, that’s little comfort to Langdon, who died 69 years ago. The one-time Sennett/First National silent star enjoyed his best success in the sound era as a comic lead in Hal Roach, Educational and Columbia shorts, and a few acting gigs in low-budget B films. Perhaps the best of these is “Misbehaving Husbands,” from Monogram. Nevertheless, his three A films, “A Soldier’s Plaything,” “Hallelujah, I’m a Bum,” and “Zenobia,” with Oliver Hardy, were all flops.

The film I’m reviewing today is “A Soldier’s Plaything,” from 1930, produced by Warner Brothers. It’s one of those very early talkies that blends comic routines with musical numbers. The film involves Harry (Tim) and co-star Ben Lyons (Georgie) as U.S. soldiers in Germany during the occupation after World War I. Georgie is the lady’s man who falls for a sexy German girl/woman Gretchen, (Lotti Loder). Harry has some excellent scenes, where he plays the “little elf” character he honed as a silent star very well. He also gets to sing a song, and does so very well. He’s not the focus of the film but he’s the funniest one in it. He easily outperforms -- in comedy -- a burly, yelling Noah Berry as Captain Plover, who constantly makes Harry and Ben shovel manure; that’s a running joke in the movie.

Ben’s Georgie, Harry’s soldier pal, is carrying a secret that harms his romance with Gretchen. He thinks he killed a violent gambler/gangster back home in the USA. That’s why he joined Tim as a WW1 recruit. Naturally, this causes some harm to his relationship with the German beauty. Worried that he’ll be arrested, he tells her he’ll come back and get her. Gretchen, who wants to go to the states with him immediately, is naturally skeptical. It looks like their romance is kaput, until an abrupt ending wraps up the plot neatly.

“Abrupt” is an excellent word to apply to this Michael Curtiz-directed film. It’s only 56 or 57 minutes, and is over before you know it. There seems to have been extreme editing in the film. Example: like old silent films, titles, rather than scenes, are used to move action along. Also, when Georgie’s major dilemma with Gretchen is resolved (he discovers the man he thought he killed is a fellow soldier) there’s no reconciliation scene with his girl. She’s just with him, all happy, in the next scene. According to movie books, there is a 73-minute version of this film (now lost) that played in Europe. It’d be nice if it was found one day.

According to genre books, Lotti Loder was a European beauty that Warner Brothers was planning to groom for stardom. It’s clear though, that by the finished release cut, studio execs had abandoned those plans during filming. Although beautiful, she does not have screen presence and seems just another supporting player in the film. There is one memorable -- pre-code -- scene of her with Lyons by a creek where she shows off a pair of very attractive legs, however. According to film books, she only made a few more films before leaving the industry.

Harry Langdon, as mentioned, is the best part of this film. He’s funny and demonstrates good comic timing. The film, due to editing, is a B film that cost A money. Depression-era audiences had other films with more depth to spend money on. Curtiz uses an interesting double-exposure technique when portraying life in the USA from persons describing it in Germany. I recommend this film, particularly if you are a Langdon fan and for those interested in the evolution of the earliest sound films. Watch Langdon sing in this film below!

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

'Gabriel Over the White House' -- FDR's favorite movie






By Doug Gibson

EDITOR's NOTE: This film airs tomorrow, Thursday, Sept. 24, 2015 at 10:15 EST on Turner Classic Movies. "Gabriel Over the White House" is one of the most, contradictory, fascinating films we've encountered in the Plan9Crunch cyberworld. It's a 1933 pre-code motion picture from MGM, but it's not devoted to "immoral lifestyles," such as "Employee's Entrance," or a sexual innuendo film such as "She Done Him Wrong." Rather, "Gabriel Over the White House," is, like the pre-code "Heroes for Sale." It's a film that condemns the U.S. capitalist political and economic system as one that favors the rich, powerful and criminal elements over the poor and middle class; it portrays the power structure as one that deliberately oppresses the common people.

(I realize I sound like a derivative humanities professor but I'm just explaining the pre-code political stances in film history.) Anyway, the film involves the tenure, in the depths of the Depression, of U.S. President Judson "Jud" Hammond, played by Walter Huston. He's a political hack, a gregarious pol beholden to all special interests, full of faux sentimentality and faux good cheer. In one scene, he jocularly asks his young political aide, Hartlee Beekman (Franchot Tone) if he can call him "Beek."

President Hammond is injured in an accident that leaves him in a coma for a while. While in the coma, he is endowed with the spirit, if not the actual indwelling, of the Angel Gabriel. When he awakes, he's a completely different leader, resolute and determined to stamp out corruption and crime. To do so he declares martial law, dissolves Congress, diverts money -- by fiat -- to veterans, creates jobs programs and equality programs, spending billions that have been diverted from the rich and special interests. He also nationalizes alcoholic beverages, and uses U.S. military might to capture an Al Capone-type character and his cronies, has them court martialed in a "star chamber," and once convicted, summarily executed against a wall. The film's climax involves President Hammond forcing his European allies to pay their war debts to the U.S., with a not-too-subtle promise that the U.S. will attack them if they don't pay up.

At that point, President Hammond dies, presumably of deferred injuries from the accident, and the nation mourns the death of a great leader of the people who has died.

This is a fascinating time-capsule film. It lionizes a protagonist, Hammond, who uses tactics that a Stalin or Mussolini used. Of course, all the "reforms" that Huston's president are successful, from providing bonuses and jobs to wiping out organized crime and setting shifty political colleagues and foreign allies straight. As a citizen, the film teaches that you only have to allow President "Angel Gabriel" Hammond to tear up your constitutional rights and become a dictator end wrong-doing.

Rumor has it that this film was President Franklin Delano Roosevelt's favorite movie; our leader during the Great Depression probably envied "President Hammond" his ease at swatting away congressional and foreign opposition. And remember, Hammond is a hero in this film, none so much as when he's shooting gangsters against a wall and threatening European allies with military destruction.

Another star of the film is Karen Morley, who plays President Hammond's secretary, Pendola Molloy, who falls in love with Tone's Beekman. She serves as sort of the moral conscience of the film, initially distrusting the "new" Hammond, but eventually revering the "dear leader." Huston, it must be noted, is absolutely magnificent in "Gabriel Over the White House." His before-and-after transformations are done superbly and his screen presence and gravitas makes the audience sympathize with the new president. He may be a dictator, but he's an honest, likable dictator.

I quote from Wikipedia the following: "Controversial since the time of its release, Gabriel Over the White House is widely acknowledged to be an example of totalitarian propaganda. ... the author of the original novel, was a "liberal champion of government activism"] and trusted adviser to David Lloyd George, the Liberal Prime Minister who brought Bismarck's welfare state to the United Kingdom.The decision to buy the story was made by producer Walter Wanger,variously described as "a liberal Democrat" or a "liberal Hollywood mogul." After two weeks of script preparation, Wanger secured the financial backing of media magnate William Randolph Hearst, one of President Franklin D. Roosevelt's staunchest supporters, who had helped him get the Democratic presidential nomination and who enlisted his entire media empire to campaign for him.Hearst intended the film to be a tribute to FDR and an attack on previous Republican administrations."

Louis B. Mayer, head man at MGM, hated the film. Conspiracy theorists have alleged a long time that the film was a sort of "dry run" for Roosevelt to take similar measures as "President Hammond" does. There are claims that Roosevelt had a hand in the script. Frankly, I doubt that. However, the film is hard to defend for anyone who adhere to our Republican form of government. It's best thought of as a misguided, yet idealistic fantasy of a strong leader able to solve all the problems of a nation mired in the Great Depression.

Watch a couple of clips from the film via YouTube. It can be purchased via amazon, as well.



Sunday, September 6, 2015

'The Dentist' is a very funny pre-code W.C. Fields short



By Doug Gibson

I had the opportunity to watch, again, this pretty fun 1932 Sennett comedy short, "The Dentist," starring W. C. Fields as a gruff, eccentric dentist and his travails with his daughter, who loves the ice man, his golf game, as well as some golf buddies and life in the dentist's office interacting with his pretty nurse and a few eccentric patients.

As mentioned, Fields is great. Only Fields can wave away concern about patient's pain with lines such as, "Oh, to hell with her," or "Have you ever had this tooth pulled before?" This is a film made just before the dreaded Hayes Code restricted Hollywood fare to a G rated-type fare. "The Dentist" is PG fare, with Field's mild growling, suggestive sarcasm, and in one particular one very sexually suggestive scene where dentist Fields burrows himself deep between a lady patient's very wide, very bare legs in order to force a tooth extraction. (A portion of the scene is shown above). The lady patient is played by willowly, Elise Cavanna, and she sort of looks like a sexier version of Carol Burnett. Although Fields' character has no romantic intentions, the scene is definitely played as a sexual satire. Cavanna's groans of pain contain more than a hint of passion, and after the tooth is extracted, she lies back in the chair, limbs splayed, with a countenance that hints of "afterglow."

I have recently learned that the scene between Fields and Cavanna was indeed a sexual spoof. It was a based on a popular stag film of the 1920s, called, "The Slow Fire Dentist." In the film, a dentist and a lady patient take things a good deal further than Fields and Cavanna. It's an interesting bit of film history and, as mentioned, it's a good bet "The Dentist" would never have been allowed to be screened had it been made a couple of years later.

Rumor has it that there's an even spicier version of "The Dentist" out there but I suspect the Turner Classic Movies print, which is shown at least once a year, is complete. The 20-minute film was directed by Leslie Pearce. If one wants to see Fields at his best in a feature film, I suggest 1934's "It's a Gift."

Thursday, July 30, 2015

'The Entertainer' a daughter's biography of dad Lyle Talbot's life in show business



By Doug Gibson

Prior to this week, if one had asked me about the late character actor, Lyle Talbot, I'd have leaned on my knowledge of cult cinema to define him. I'd have cited his three Ed Wood films and his role in the Wood documentaries a generation ago. And I'd recall his appearances as "Lex Luthor" or "Commissioner Gordon," in cheap Superman and Batman serials. Or even his role as a narrator in the Ormond family's cheapo "Mesa of Lost Women."

It's up to Talbot's daughter, New Yorker journalist Margaret Talbot, to do justice to her dad. She has written "The Entertainer: Movies, Magic and My Father's Twentieth Century, " (Riverhead Books) (link),and absolutely brilliant tale that not only encapsulates Lyle Talbot's life, but provides the subject as a background, a Zelig, a symbol, of the history of 20th century mass market entertainment.

As his daughter relates, Talbot never became a star, but he had the privilege of earning his living solely as an actor for more than 70 years, which was his lifetime goal. Born in 1902 to a mother who died a few months later, Lyle was snatched up by his grandmother, Mary Talbot,  -- who kept his natural father away -- and ran a drummers' hotel outside a train station in Brainard, Neb. The very young Lyle never had his own bed, instead sleeping curled next to the Bohemian teenage servant girls, most of Czech origin, who were hired at the hotel to learn homemaking skills, primarily cooking, from Lyle's businesswoman grandma.

Although deprived of contact with his son early, Lyle's dad, Ellis Henderson, eventually met his son and came to have the greatest influence on his life. Ellis and Lyle's stepmother, Anna, became entertainers, traveling the region in circuses, carnivals, predecessors to today's reality TV freak shows, and small acting troupes. Son Lyle, no doubt having the genes from dad, became an entertainer as a teenager. He started at the absolute bottom, not entertaining, but cleaning up at the circuses and carnivals. But, as author Margaret Talbot notes, assumed correctly that he would eventually get a chance to be on stage.

The genesis for many of Margaret Talbot's recollections of dad's life and times derived from the many stories she heard from her father, whether at the dinner table, living room, etc. She's done a good job of research backing the stories as well as providing what must be, for her, priceless photos of her dad at long-gone locations such as the Savidge carnivals, Chase Lister company, with the magician Mock Sad Alli, ... a life of small touring troupes of actors, traveling the Midwest, hoping the gate take would provide enough for a small payday and funds to move on to the next small town with an "opera house."

Lyle gained enough stature in the 1920s to actually start his own acting company in the south; it failed thanks to the Depression. He did attract the eye of a Warner Brothers talent scout and was invited to take a screen test in Hollywood. So broke that he had to borrow money from his agent to fund the trip, Lyle, a good looking young man, beat the odds and earned a contract after the test.

Perhaps the best part of Margaret Talbot's book is her description of Hollywood in the early to mid 1930s and the life of a "movie star," or contract player for a studio. It was a tough, insular, clannish life, with 14-hour work days, contracts that favored the studios, studios that functioned as little worlds of their own, and studio bosses who arranged dates for their contract players and paid off the cops when a "star" got himself in a bit of legal trouble.

The Hollywood described in "The Entertainer" doesn't exist any more, but it must have seemed like a mythical magic kingdom to those far away and those, such as Lyle, who were successes there. It was far away from the Midwest and East, accessible by long train rides or motor trips. As recounted, Talbot had many affairs, often with the women that males dreamed about in movie houses. One of his more serious flings was with the hard-bitten, older silent star Estelle Taylor, who had earlier married, and dumped, heavyweight boxing champ Jack Dempsey.

What I got most from Margaret Talbot's book is a desire to immerse myself in what is described as "Forbidden Hollywood," the steady stream of racy, sexy, hard-bitten films that the studios churned out prior to he Hays Office morality crackdown in the mid-30s. Lyle starred in a bunch of them, including "Three On a Match," which is clearly one of his daughter's favorites. (I'll be searching Turner Classic Movies for this take of lust, adultery, regret.) In these films, Talbot starred with Glenda Farrell, Joan Blondell, Mae West, Loretta Young, Humphrey Bogart and even a very young John Wayne. The stories of Hollywood culture in that age were fascinating, with fan clubs that featured stories about the fans, and stars who were eager to be involved with their fans. In fact, these early fan clubs, described by the author as a type of early "Facebook" with most eager to talk about others rather than themselves, even offered advice and criticism on their stars' handling by the studio bosses.

Talbot's role as a founding member of the Screen Actors Guild, as well as his "friendships" with the occasional hood, his traveling by train across country to hype Warner Brothers, the occasional theater gig, and visits from his dad, stepmother and grandma to Hollywood are detailed. I must stress that daughter Margaret's tale strays often from biography, and offers detailed accounts of the entertainment culture of her dad's era.

Lyle Talbot starred in or was featured in hundreds of films; he was ubiquitous in the 1930s and a popular item in film fan magazines. But he never became a star, eventually settling into a role as an independent actor who would take almost any role offered. He had his fat times and his thin times, but he always lived comfortably. Margaret Talbot offers theories as to why her dad never made it to the level of a Bogart or a Grant. He was handsome but lacked that thing called screen presence, that made his face irresistible to audiences. He usually played weaker characters, such as feckless hoods or spurned lovers. There may have been political reasons. His efforts to unionize actors may have annoyed Warner Brothers.

Or maybe it was his problem with alcohol, a quiet but persistent flaw in his personal life for 25 years. He had his share of mishaps, as well as several ill-advised marriages. In the latter half of the 1940s, as Lyle battled middle age and perhaps fears of an alcoholic, solitary middle age, Talbot finally met the woman he would spend 40 years with, Margaret Epple, only 20 (26 years younger than Lyle) but more mature than her years thanks to a few years as breadwinner to a semi-dysfunctional family. Margaret provided what Lyle Talbot yearned for, a family, stability, a home. She also, through some tough love, cured him of his alcoholism problem.

To Talbot, entertaining was as natural as throwing a baseball with his sons. His daughter recalls his ease and lack of nerves behind the stage as the curtain opening drew nearer. Perhaps energized by his successful marriage, he passed through his "Ed Wood era" unscathed, making a smooth and profitable move to television, most notably as the neighbor on the Nelsons on "Ozzie and Harriet." Margaret Talbot provides some interesting tales of how television was greeted by critics, along with a amusing anecdote of a New York Times writer who predicted its failure because people would not take the time to stare at the TV screen. (To cult film fans: Margaret Talbot has little nice to say about her dad's association with Ed Wood. She recounts the oft-told anecdote of a drunken Ed wearing Lyle's wife Margaret's underclothes. She describes "Plan 9 From Outer Space" and "Jail Bait" as "unwatchable" but has kinder words for "Glen Or Glenda," noting its progressive and forward take on accepting sexual differences.)

I could write more about this marvelous book, my favorite non-fiction offering of 2012, but it's time to stop with the final word of advice that there's much to recommend in Talbot's life and times that is found in his daughter's affectionate re-telling.