Classic Films in Focus: THE DIVORCE OF LADY X (1938)

While not on par with the greatest of the screwball comedies, The Divorce of Lady X (1938) delivers a thoroughly engaging British take on the genre with notable performances from two iconic stars. Laurence Olivier and Merle Oberon lead a fairly small cast in this second adaptation of Gilbert Wakefield's play, Counsel's Opinion, the first having appeared under that title in 1933. Alexander Korda produced both versions and even brings back Binnie Barnes, who previously had Oberon's role, as one of the supporting characters, while Tim Whelan provides direction. Gorgeous Technicolor brightens the scenes, especially a fancy dress ball at the beginning of the picture, and the absurd comedy of the mistaken identity plot keeps the mood lively and light, even though Olivier's dialogue occasionally veers into sexist rants about the nature of womankind. Fans of the two stars and screwball comedy in general will appreciate The Divorce of Lady X for its madcap romance and the chance to see Olivier and Oberon paired in a lighter setting than the more famous Wuthering Heights (1939), which would be the last time the two shared the screen.

Olivier plays barrister Everard Logan, who specializes in divorce cases and has returned to London for an important trial when a heavy fog brings the entire city to a standstill for the night. He nabs the last room at a nearby hotel just before a mob of trapped party guests descends on the front desk demanding places to sleep. Unwilling to share his suite with a group of ladies, Everard nonetheless finds himself giving up his bed and his pajamas to the relentlessly charming Leslie (Merle Oberon), who tells him that she's a married woman and refuses to disclose her last name for the sake of discretion. When an incensed Lord Mere (Ralph Richardson) later appears in Everard's office to demand a divorce from his wife, the circumstance lead Everard to assume that Leslie is actually Lady Mere, making him the co-respondent in the impending trial.

Despite accounts of their dislike for one another, Olivier and Oberon generate plenty of chemistry onscreen, perhaps because love and loathing both radiate palpable energy that can be hard for the viewer to differentiate. Oberon's feline smile and wide eyes suit the scheming Leslie perfectly; like most screwball heroines, she takes control of the romance from the start and then upends every aspect of the hero's life. We learn quite early on that Leslie is not Lady Mere and is, in fact, a single young lady and perfectly acceptable love interest, but the ironic comedy of watching Everard suffer under his assumptions delights Leslie and the audience. Our introduction to the barrister sets him up as a selfish cad with a history of questionable liaisons, so we don't judge Leslie too harshly for manipulating him and then forcing him to prove his devotion repeatedly. Everard needs to be taught a few lessons, and Leslie, the granddaughter of a powerful judge, is just the girl to teach them. It's also great fun to watch Olivier, so lionized now for his serious Shakespearean roles, fumble about in pajamas or try to hide his face from the notice of Lady Mere's maid. His physical comedy here never rivals that of Cary Grant or Henry Fonda in their best screwball parts, but Everard has a lot in common with David Huxley and "Hopsy" Pike as he careens between pleasure and panic.

The reveal scene at the end falls a bit flat, and the movie feels like it could do more with its supporting characters, especially Binnie Barnes as the real Lady Mere and Morton Selton as Lord Steele, but the biggest hiccups are the moments of sexist nonsense. Everard has one scene where he humiliates a woman in court solely because of his frustration with Leslie; he rants about the deceptive, irrational nature of women and how they don't deserve independence and respect. Later, when he's happy, he gives the reverse of the same speech, now lauding women as helpmates and loving companions to men but still not recognizing them as human equals in any capacity. Everard wants to read Leslie - and all women - as either evil temptresses or angels in the house, but Leslie's character throughout the movie defies both categories. She's a bit of each, depending on the moment, but mostly she's a very intelligent, ambitious young woman who has no chance of her own career but sees Everard as husband material with potential for greatness. In a modern setting Leslie could be ambitious for herself, and she'd certainly make a cunning lawyer or politician with her ability to talk a complete stranger out of his room, his bed, and his pajamas for the night. It's grating to think that Everard can understand so little about her even after their misadventures end in mutual affection.

Olivier's big pictures following The Divorce of Lady X include Rebecca (1940), Pride and Prejudice (1940), and That Hamilton Woman (1941), but if you like him as a romantic comedy lead try The Prince and the Showgirl (1957), which pairs him with Marilyn Monroe. Merle Oberon also stars in The Scarlet Pimpernel (1934), The Cowboy and the Lady (1938), and That Uncertain Feeling (1941). Oberon and Binnie Barnes both get beheaded as wives in The Private Life of Henry VIII (1933), which came out the same year that Barnes played Leslie in Counsel's Opinion. Although he's hamming it up here as the foolish Lord Mere, Sir Ralph Richardson is remembered as a great Shakespearean stage actor whose extensive film credits include Anna Karenina (1948), The Heiress (1949), and Doctor Zhivago (1965).

Classic Films in Focus: THE THIEF OF BAGDAD (1940)

Producer Alexander Korda’s lavish revision of the 1924 silent version of The Thief of Bagdad marks a key moment in the evolution of the fantasy adventure film. It would prove an inspiration to imaginative filmmakers for generations to come; its influence is clearly seen, for example, in the Sinbad movies of Ray Harryhausen, himself an iconic figure in the history of fantasy films. Shot in sumptuous color and bursting with visual delights, The Thief of Bagdad thrills viewers of all ages with its magical creatures and daring escapes, but youngsters will especially appreciate the role of child star Sabu as the plucky thief who gives the story its human interest as well as its title. The movie benefits further from the efforts of a team of directors, including Michael Powell, and memorable performances from Conrad Veidt, June Duprez, and Rex Ingram.

Sabu plays Abu, the loyal companion of lovestruck hero Ahmad (John Justin), whose passion for a beautiful princess (June Duprez) carries the pair into many trials and adventures. Ahmad’s corrupt vizier, Jaffar (Conrad Veidt), first usurps Ahmad’s throne and then tries to win the princess for himself, even bribing her foolish father with a mechanical flying horse. Dark magic and corrupt political power repeatedly enable Jaffar to thwart Ahmad and Abu, but the discovery of a genie (Rex Ingram) and a magical stone offer the heroes some much needed assistance.

The film features an impressive array of special effects that bring its locations and creatures to life, although some techniques are so subtly employed that most viewers will never recognize them. Wide shots of huge fantasy settings use hanging miniatures and matte paintings brilliantly; we perceive the colorful towers of Arabian cities and a giant statue as real things rather than mere illusions, which draws us into the world and encourages us to invest in its characters. The fabulous beings who populate this landscape get our attention more readily, for they are creatures calculated to inspire amazement. A mechanical steed comes to life and carries its riders into the sky, a silver statue seduces and then kills with half a dozen arms, and an enormous genie emerges from his bottle to fill the screen and frighten tiny Abu. A few of these effects scenes reveal their age, especially around the edges, but they were groundbreaking accomplishments in 1940, and they still have the power to charm and surprise a generation brought up on computerized cinematic spectacles.

The performances of the human actors help to sell this story of exotic enchantment. Conrad Veidt projects hypnotic menace as the evil Jaffar, a villain of great cunning and power, while June Duprez is lovely enough to justify all of the attention she gets from both Jaffar and Ahmad. John Justin, making his very first screen appearance, plays Ahmad as affable, romantic, and sincere, especially during his blind beggar phase. He has just a touch of roguish charm to liven up his character without stealing Sabu’s thunder. A jovial Rex Ingram makes the genie a highlight of the picture, and Miles Malleson, who also wrote the screenplay, has a memorable role as the toy-obsessed sultan. Foremost of all, however, is Sabu, the Indian child actor who had first appeared in Korda’s Elephant Boy in 1937. With his mischievous grin and youthful charisma, Sabu brings a street urchin’s perspective to the grand calamities of the adult world. He’s funny, energetic, and boyishly handsome, a more exotic version of Tom Sawyer or Peter Pan. It’s easy to see why Korda was eager to capitalize on the sixteen year old’s appeal by building pictures around him.

The Thief of Bagdad won three Oscars, for Cinematography, Art Direction, and, most deservedly, Special Effects. Sabu, like many child stars, did not enjoy much success as an adult actor, but his other early films include Drums (1938), Jungle Book (1942), and Black Narcissus (1947). Conrad Veidt, best remembered as a Nazi in Casablanca (1942), can also be found tackling a sinister role in A Woman’s Face (1941). Look for June Duprez in None but the Lonely Heart (1944) and for Rex Ingram in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1939) and Anna Lucasta (1958). Don’t miss Miles Malleson, one of the most prolific actors in the cast, as Dr. Chasuble in The Importance of Being Earnest (1952). Be sure to point out to young viewers the remarkable similarities between The Thief of Bagdad and Disney’s Aladdin (1992); Sabu’s protagonist gets downgraded to a monkey sidekick, but many of the plot elements and characters are exactly the same.

The Thief of Bagdad is available on DVD from the Criterion Collection and is currently included in the Criterion streaming catalog on Hulu Plus.

Classic Films in Focus: THE GHOST GOES WEST (1935)

Like Oscar Wilde’s story, “The Canterville Ghost,” The Ghost Goes West (1935) offers us an old-fashioned ghost thrust into a modern world with comical results. The film proved a big hit in Britain, where it was made, perhaps because of its romantic view of Scotland and skeptical perspective on nouveau riche Americans, but modern audiences everywhere will plenty to enjoy in this charming fantasy. Directed by René Clair and produced by Alexander Korda, The Ghost Goes West is an excellent choice for those who enjoy light supernatural tales like Topper (1937), The Canterville Ghost (1944), and Blithe Spirit (1945).

Robert Donat stars as both the ghost, Murdoch Glourie, and his modern day kinsman, Donald. Murdoch has been doomed to haunt the family castle until he avenges an insult to the Glourie name, but cash-strapped Donald is forced to sell the place to a wealthy American family who upset Murdoch by moving the whole structure to Florida. Both Donald and Murdoch enjoy the company of lively Peggy (Jean Parker), who longs to see a ghost but can’t tell Donald and Murdoch apart, and both are vexed by the schemes of Peggy’s father (Eugene Pallette) and his rival (Ralph Bunker) to turn Glourie Castle into a marketing stunt.

Donat looks particularly handsome in Murdoch’s full Highland costume, and his scenes as the waggish ghost, both before and after his death, are some of his best moments in the film. Murdoch has a particular eye for the ladies, but Donald possesses less confidence than his spectral relation, especially when it comes to courting Peggy. Eugene Pallette has another blustering, gruff father to play, and as always he does it well, and the sight of him in a kilt, trying to stage a ghostly manifestation, is certainly good for a laugh. Classic film buffs will also enjoy seeing Elsa Lanchester, best known as the screaming Bride of Frankenstein in the 1935 film, in a supporting role as Miss Shepperton, even though she has little to do beyond rolling her marvelously expressive eyes at Eugene Pallette.

Beyond the ghost story and the romantic comedy, The Ghost Goes West is a narrative about authentic family heritage and modern fakery, with Scottish national identity as the contested ground. The first part of the film pokes fun at the Scottish insistence on clan membership beyond all other loyalties; the Glouries and the McLaggens would rather kill each other than kill their common enemies, the English. Murdoch is cursed not for failing as a soldier in the Jacobite Rebellion but for failing to settle the score against the rival clan. Donald, who has failed as the guardian of his birthright, literally sells out to the Americans, who then make a mockery of real Scottish culture by dressing up in kilts and staging bad imitations of Scottish traditions. Luckily for Murdoch, the farce presents him with a long-awaited opportunity to lift the curse and join his ancestors on the other side.

For another classic film that takes a romantic but humorous view of Scotland and Scottish identity, try I Know Where I’m Going! (1945). See more of Robert Donat in The 39 Steps (1935), The Citadel (1938), and Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1939), for which he won the Oscar for Best Actor. Jean Parker also stars in Little Women (1933), Detective Kitty O’Day (1944), and The Gunfighter (1950). You’ll find Eugene Pallette playing other paternal curmudgeons in My Man Godfrey (1936), The Lady Eve (1941), and Heaven Can Wait (1943). For more from René Claire, try The Flame of New Orleans (1941) and I Married a Witch (1942).

You can see The Ghost Goes West on Hulu Plus or Amazon Instant for $2.99.