Classic Films in Focus: THE MAD MISS MANTON (1938)

Although it's not on the same level as their later collaboration, The Lady Eve (1941), The Mad Miss Manton is still an amusing outing for stars Barbara Stanwyck and Henry Fonda. It's a goofy mix of romantic comedy and murder mystery, with Stanwyck leading a pack of socialite sleuths and Fonda falling head over heels as a reporter who gets entangled in the titular Miss Manton's adventures. You won't find a lot of household names here beyond the two leads, but Leigh Jason directs a fairly large cast that includes Sam Levene, Stanley Ridges, Penny Singleton, and the always memorable Hattie McDaniel. Fans of Fonda's funny side will especially appreciate his silly antics in this picture, but Stanwyck's all-girl Scooby gang also proves delightful, even if they're a little too prone to fainting when they find a corpse.

Stanwyck stars as wealthy socialite Melsa Manton, who discovers a murdered man while walking her dogs late one night after her return from a costume party. Her reputation and costume make the cops doubt her report, especially when the corpse in question has disappeared, but Melsa enlists the help of her society girlfriends to search for clues. At the same time, Melsa enters a war with newspaper reporter Peter Ames (Henry Fonda) because of his printed tirades against her and her group, but Peter's ire turns to adoration once he meets Melsa in person, even as he continues to frustrate her schemes. With the suspects and corpses piling up, Melsa and Peter must help the beleaguered Lieutenant Brent (Sam Levene) catch the murderer before Melsa becomes the next victim.

The Mad Miss Manton is not a comic masterpiece, but it moves along briskly and lands enough laughs to be entertaining throughout. It can be hard to differentiate Melsa's gang of friends, who might have more individual development if there were just three or four of them instead of a crowded half dozen. On the plus side, the picture passes the Bechdel-Wallace Test with flying colors as the women scramble to find clues and track suspects. Hattie McDaniel has a much larger role than any of the other supporting women, and she makes the most of it even though she's playing another of her inevitable maid characters. The film does, at least, depict McDaniel's Hilda as a sensible, capable person in contrast to the giddy socialites around her. 

Although Stanwyck's Miss Manton is much saner than the title of the movie implies, she doesn't let anything stop her from pursuing the case, even the death threats the murderer makes to scare her off. She has a general's command over her group of friends, who complain about their lost meals and dates but always follow her orders. Fonda's newspaper reporter is by far the giddier of the pair; he is absolutely smitten from the moment he meets Melsa, which leads him into some truly silly situations. One highlight is the scene in which Peter fakes being on his deathbed in order to trick Melsa into revealing information she has uncovered about the murders. The chemistry Fonda and Stanwyck share here paves the way for the sparks that fly between them in The Lady Eve, and if you enjoy them together in that classic then The Mad Miss Manton is well worth your time.

Barbara Stanwyck and Henry Fonda made one additional movie together, the 1941 romantic comedy You Belong to Me. For more of Stanwyck's comedy roles, see Ball of Fire (1941) and Christmas in Connecticut (1945). You'll find her solving another comic mystery in Lady of Burlesque (1943). For Fonda's lighter side try The Male Animal (1942), Rings on Her Fingers (1942), and The Magnificent Dope (1942), as well as later career roles in Yours, Mine and Ours (1968) and The Cheyenne Social Club (1970).

Classic Films in Focus: EAST SIDE, WEST SIDE (1949)

Adapted from the novel by Marcia Davenport, East Side, West Side (1949) is more melodrama than murder mystery, although there always seems to be a noir plot lurking beneath its surface. Surprisingly, star Barbara Stanwyck appears in good girl mode as a wronged wife enduring domestic discord. It's not one of Stanwyck's greatest performances - her heroine is too nice even to reproach her philandering husband for most of the film - but the solid cast makes the movie worth watching, most notably Ava Gardner as the truly ruthless siren who woos James Mason away from Stanwyck. Mervyn Leroy directs a cast that also includes Van Heflin, Cyd Charisse, Gale Sondergaard, and future First Lady Nancy Reagan, as Nancy Davis, making one of her earliest appearances on the big screen.

Stanwyck plays Jessie Bourne, a wealthy socialite who has already forgiven her husband, Brandon (James Mason), for a previous affair as the story begins. Jessie is dismayed, however, when the seductive Isabel (Ava Gardner) returns and immediately pursues Brandon again, refusing to believe his assertion that he has turned over a new leaf. As a result of Brandon's scuffle with Isabel's jealous boyfriend, Jessie begins a friendship with a young model named Rosa (Cyd Charisse) and her childhood crush, Mark (Van Heflin). Soon Mark reveals that his feelings for Jessie are more than platonic, but when Isabel is murdered Mark helps Jessie by working to clear Brandon from blame.

The murder and subsequent investigation occupy only the third act, while the majority of the story focuses on Jessie's misplaced loyalty to Brandon in spite of all the evidence that he's a faithless cad who relies on her presumed forgiveness to keep up his shenanigans. It only takes Rosa two minutes to figure out that Brandon is no good; "If I were your wife, I'd cut your heart out," she says, and the audience agrees with her. Jessie, however, clings to her optimism. "He'll change, you'll see. He'll change," she tells her friend, Helen (Nancy Davis), but even Jessie doesn't sound like she believes it. Jessie's mother (Gale Sondergaard) is polite to Brandon in front of Jessie but fervently hopes that her daughter will leave him. With every other character both overtly and covertly urging Jessie to dump her cheating spouse, it's frustrating to watch the heroine stick by him for so long, especially because we aren't used to seeing Stanwyck play doormats.

The bad characters have more fun, particularly Ava Gardner, whose Isabel prowls the Del Rio like a panther in a backless gown. She's a true femme fatale, and she knows it; she taunts Jessie with her power over Brandon, bragging that she can disrupt any effort to extricate him from her clutches. James Mason, handsome but too cosmopolitan to be trustworthy, has a smoldering, debauched look whenever he's in a scene with Gardner. His Brandon glares at Isabel with equal measures of lust and loathing, and we know she's right that the two of them are more alike than Brandon cares to admit. Isabel's circle includes much rougher characters, too; her boyfriend, Alec (Douglas Kennedy) is a bruiser who resents Isabel's interest in Brandon but has his own jealous side piece, Felice (Beverly Michaels), to amuse him when Isabel isn't around. This dangerous crew threatens to push the story into noir territory, and the audience perhaps hopes that they will, but Jessie and Mark are so resolutely moral that we know they'll never be pulled into anything so shady.

If you want to see Stanwyck and Heflin together in really heated noir, try The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946). Catch James Mason in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954), A Star is Born (1954), and North by Northwest (1959). Ava Gardner burns up the screen in The Killers (1946), Mogambo (1953), and The Barefoot Contessa (1954). Cyd Charisse also starred in Tension in 1949, but she's best remembered for musicals like Singin' in the Rain (1952), The Band Wagon (1953), and Brigadoon (1954). Mervyn Leroy's other films from the 1940s include Random Harvest (1940), Madame Curie (1943), and Little Women (1949). The Valley of Decision (1945), starring Greer Garson and Gregory Peck, was also adapted from a novel by Marcia Davenport.

Classic Films in Focus: THE TWO MRS. CARROLLS (1947)

Director Peter Godfrey's modern Gothic offers two iconic stars - Humphrey Bogart and Barbara Stanwyck - as its leads, which is reason enough to see The Two Mrs. Carrolls (1947) in spite of its flaws. Bogart, who played heavies off and on throughout his career, is back on the dark side as a painter who finds artistic inspiration by murdering his wives, while Stanwyck is unusually naive as his current wife and next intended victim. Supporting performers include Nigel Bruce as an atrociously incompetent doctor and Ann Carter as Bogart's beguiling daughter, while Alexis Smith is particularly memorable as a predatory seductress who might be getting more than she expects by tempting Bogart's unhinged artist to leave his wife for her. Bogart, Stanwyck, and Smith all give fine performances, but the film suffers from a lack of suspense that undermines its chilling premise.

Stanwyck plays Sally, who becomes the second wife of painter Geoffrey Carroll (Bogart) after his first wife dies. Sally doesn't suspect that her predecessor's demise was murder, and Geoffrey goes to great lengths to hide his crimes even as he contemplates a second disposal to make way for wife number three. Goaded by the offers of the beautiful Cecily (Alexis Smith), Geoffrey intends to make Sally another victim of his maniacal need for a new muse to drive his work. Geoffrey's young daughter, Bea (Ann Carter), eventually reveals some of his secrets, and Sally realizes the truth about her husband, but her revelation might come too late to save her from his murderous schemes.

The two leads are the chief attraction here, though both are somewhat out of their element. Humphrey Bogart never looks like an artist, but he does make for a credible killer, and it's great fun to watch his Geoffrey come unhinged whenever his secrets are threatened. By the end of the film he has gone right off the rails, justifying his actions with a horrifically sexist assertion that his art is more important than any woman's life. The simmering intensity that Bogart exemplifies works well for dangerous, unstable characters, and his performance here provides a parallel to his more celebrated work in The Petrified Forest (1936), The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948), In a Lonely Place (1950), and The Caine Mutiny (1954). Stanwyck, normally a tough cookie and occasionally up for murder herself, here has an ingenue's role, and one of the film's frustrations is that we expect a Stanwyck character to be smarter. Stanwyck plays Sally as loyal, kind, and unsuspecting, which is what the role seems to demand of her, but it's not as good a part as the actress deserves, and Alexis Smith has the meatier role as the scheming Cecily. Stanwyck would get a much better chance to play an imperiled wife in the 1948 film, Sorry, Wrong Number, showing what she could do with a part more suited to her talent.

While the casting issues cause some obvious problems, the chief complaint about The Two Mrs. Carrolls is its inability to generate suspense. The film shows us up front that Geoffrey murders his first wife, creating dramatic irony for the audience as we wait for Sally to catch up. This approach can work well in a narrative, depending on how the unfolding events are handled as the protagonist learns the truth, but Sally stays in the dark so long that we wonder if she's paying attention. When she does finally figure it out there's a flood of information dumped into the last act so rapidly that we don't have time to savor Sally's discoveries. Even the reveal of the gruesome portrait of Sally as an Angel of Death - which ought to be a major moment - seems rushed. We see it briefly and then it's gone as Sally rushes on to the next piece of evidence. Great Gothic thrillers, whether literary or cinematic, use the slow build of rising suspicion and horror to drive the plot and the heroine forward to the inevitable confrontation with the villain. One has only to compare this movie's poisoned milk scenes with the one in Suspicion (1941) to see how differently a really suspenseful film handles the same concept. The 1940s, in fact, saw a host of excellent Gothic thrillers appear in the wake of Rebecca (1940) and the Jane Eyre inspired boom that followed, and it's a shame that The Two Mrs. Carrolls falls short in comparison with its sister films.

In spite of its failures, classic movie buffs will want to see The Two Mrs. Carrolls because it's the only picture to pair Bogart and Stanwyck. It's also worth seeing for fans of Ann Carter, the child star who so memorably plays the young protagonist of The Curse of the Cat People (1944). Peter Godfrey directs Alexis Smith again in The Woman in White (1948), which continues the Gothic trend, as does Cry Wolf (1947), which has Godfrey directing again for Stanwyck. For more of Smith and Bogart in a tale of murderous marriage, try Conflict (1945). Most of the Warner Bros. films are available as DVD on demand from the Warner Archive, including The Two Mrs. Carrolls.

Classic Films in Focus: BALL OF FIRE (1941)

In Howard Hawks' Ball of Fire (1941), Barbara Stanwyck turns her tough dame persona to comedic purpose, a feat she also performed that year in the Preston Sturges comedy, The Lady Eve (1941). Both are terrific examples of the screwball genre, but while the Sturges picture relies on biblical allusions, the Hawks film ventures into the world of fairy tales. The ball of fire that Stanwyck plays in this movie is a street savvy Snow White, a little drifted perhaps, but still sweet enough to charm seven reclusive professors and one very inexperienced Prince Charming, represented to great effect by Gary Cooper. With Hawks' lively direction, a brilliant screenplay by Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett, and winning performances from Stanwyck and Cooper, Ball of Fire has plenty to offer already, but it becomes a veritable treasure trove of delights thanks to a supporting cast that includes Dana Andrews, Dan Duryea, Henry Travers, Oskar Homolka, S.Z. Sakall, and an utterly unrecognizable Richard Haydn.

Stanwyck plays nightclub singer and mobster moll Sugarpuss O'Shea, who has to hide out from the district attorney's office when her boyfriend, Joe Lilac (Dana Andrews), is pinned for a murder rap. A perfect spot conveniently appears at the home of a group of professors working on an encyclopedia. The grammarian, Professor Potts (Gary Cooper), needs a consultant about modern slang, and Sugarpuss certainly knows her way around a colorful phrase. Sugarpuss takes up residence in the house, much to the delight of the seven elderly professors and the bewilderment of the much younger Potts, and soon enough the bashful scholar falls for the duplicitous dame. Joe Lilac, however, has his own plans for Sugarpuss, and the mild-mannered academics must take on a crew of gun-toting gangsters to help true love conquer all.

Cooper is surprisingly hilarious as the straight arrow Potts, but Stanwyck gets all of the best lines, thanks to a plot that hinges on her character's knowledge of slang. Always a great talker, the actress gets dialogue that really zings in this picture, although the modern viewer might sometimes be as befuddled as Professor Potts about what it all means. Slinging slang from "corny" to "yum yum," Stanwyck's character teaches Potts a previously unknown physical vocabulary, as well, making the kissing scenes especially fun. In gowns designed by Edith Head, Stanwyck is truly radiant, particularly in a spangled number that catches the light just so to throw sparkles onto the screen and stardust into Cooper's eyes. Cooper makes a perfect match for the actress; his Potts is a dynamic character, stuffy and focused at first, then suspicious and confused, and at last a head over heels romantic driven by love. He ends the picture a yodeling, boxing man on fire. It turns out that kisses can wake up Prince Charming just as well as they work on Snow White.

The supporting players are all winners, from Dana Andrews as the scheming Joe Lilac to Allen Jenkins as the garbage man, but the actors playing the professors are some of classic film's most beloved characters. They give the animated dwarfs of Snow White (1937) plenty of competition for cartoonish appeal with their quirky passions and odd bodies. Familiar faces abound. S.Z. Sakall and Leonid Kinskey are both remembered by most viewers for their roles in Casablanca (1942), while Henry Travers is best known as the bumbling angel of It's a Wonderful Life (1946). Oskar Homolka, who had played the heavy in Hitchcock's Sabotage (1936), proves a scene-stealer among the group, especially when his character attempts to drive. The most memorable of the bunch, however, turns out to be Richard Haydn, heavily made up as Professor Oddly and employing the same bizarre voice he would later use as the Caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland (1951). A widower and a botanist, Oddly trades laughs for sentimental tears in his best scene, in which he recalls his love for his long dead wife. It's almost impossible to recognize the actor known today as Max in The Sound of Music (1965), but Haydn it is, making his second big screen appearance at the age of 36, four years younger than Gary Cooper.

Take a moment to appreciate Kathleen Howard and Mary Field as the movie's other women, and be sure to notice Elisha Cook, Jr. in a bit role early on. Ball of Fire earned four Oscar nominations, including a nod for Stanwyck as Best Actress, but went home empty-handed. For more comedy from Howard Hawks, try Twentieth Century (1934), Bringing Up Baby (1938), and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953). Survey Barbara Stanwyck's remarkable career with Baby Face (1933), Double Indemnity (1944), and The Furies (1950). Gary Cooper won Best Actor Oscars for Sergeant York (1940) and High Noon (1952), and he also stars with Stanwyck in Meet John Doe (1941) and Blowing Wild (1953). Get a better view of Dana Andrews in Laura (1944), and don't miss Dan Duryea in Scarlet Street (1945).

Classic Films in Focus: SORRY, WRONG NUMBER (1948)

Adapted by Lucille Fletcher from her own original radio play, Sorry, Wrong Number (1948) successfully translates its tale of murder and hysteria into the new medium without losing its connections to its radio roots. Anatole Litvak directs this tense noir thriller, which cranks up the suspense as Barbara Stanwyck's invalid anti-heroine becomes more and more unhinged, convinced that someone is coming to kill her at 11:15 pm on a lonely, hot night in the middle of New York. Great performances from Stanwyck and Burt Lancaster drive the film, which offers an ironic commentary on the way in which a domineering woman's constant manipulation pushes her husband toward increasingly desperate criminal acts.

Stanwyck stars as Leona Stevenson, a wealthy invalid left alone in her New York home when her servants, nurse, and husband all manage to be out at the same time. Needy and irritable, Leona hunts for husband Henry (Burt Lancaster) by repeatedly calling his office and complaining to the telephone operators, but then she stumbles into a conversation in which two men plot to kill a woman at 11:15 that very night. Leona is horrified, but her anxiety only increases as other callers begin to fill in the details of a complicated plot involving Leona, her husband, and the extent of their marital discord.

Stanwyck's performance dominates the picture, and it earned her an Oscar nomination for Best Actress (she lost to Jane Wyman for Johnny Belinda). It was the fourth and final Best Actress nomination of her career, though she never actually won. Still, the role of Leona shows why Stanwyck remains such an icon among classic Hollywood's leading ladies. She can be good, she can even be funny, but she is always most delightful when she's very, very bad. Like Stanwyck's other noir characters, Leona is a combination of strength and weakness; she goes after innocent Henry like a tiger on the prowl, then blackmails him with her tantrums and physical frailty to keep him tied to her and her father's company. She discounts Henry's need to accomplish anything for himself and makes him so addicted to her upper class lifestyle that his original integrity dissolves into base, ugly greed. She loves him and destroys him; the story unfolds to us in flashbacks that reveal how she poached him from a rival (Ann Richards), made him a captive of her father's company, and drove him to crime. At the same time, Stanwyck manages to make us feel bad for Leona, whose terror is very real as the moment of the killing draws near. She wants to save the unknown victim, and she wants Henry to love her. We'd have to be heartless monsters not to pity the sick woman, hysterical and heartbroken, sobbing into the phone as her world comes apart.

The story's origins as a radio play help to explain the way the narrative is constructed, with a single character confined entirely to telephone conversations and flashbacks as actions. There are moments in Sorry, Wrong Number where you can close your eyes and experience the very auditory nature of the events. We constantly hear trains passing, phones ringing, lines disconnecting, and other sounds that add to the mounting tension. Leona communicates with people from her past through the telephone, first her father (Ed Begley), and then Sally Hunt Lord (Ann Richards), and these conversations trigger memories that fill in the years between her first meeting with Henry and their current state. A late revelation from her doctor (Wendell Corey) devastates Leona, while the mysterious calls from Waldo Evans (Harold Vermilyea) make no sense to her but clarify the awful truth to the viewer. The last moments of the picture revel in dramatic irony, since we know something that Leona never figures out. Henry, too, has his moment of poetic justice, with the last line of the movie, "Sorry, wrong number," dripping with the implications of what has just happened. Time is up, and nobody has any more nickels. Such is the very essence of noir.

For more of Barbara Stanwyck's fatal women, see Double Indemnity (1944) and The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946). Burt Lancaster's other noir films include The Killers (1946), Brute Force (1947) and Sweet Smell of Success (1957); he won the Oscar for Best Actor for Elmer Gantry (1960) with four career nominations in all. Anatole Litvak also directed City for Conquest (1940), The Snake Pit (1948), and Anastasia (1956).

Classic Films in Focus: LADIES THEY TALK ABOUT (1933)

Barbara Stanwyck is always exciting to watch, especially in Pre-Code pictures that let her characters straddle a fascinating line between good and bad. Baby Face (1933) is the best known of her films from this era, but Ladies They Talk About (1933) also merits admiration, especially because Stanwyck gives such a great performance as its anti-heroine, a jaded crook who nonetheless wins the love of a straight arrow crusader against crime. Most of the movie takes place inside a women's prison, which gives Ladies They Talk About plenty of ladies who warrant some discussion, as well as lots of opportunities to revel in the freedoms of Pre-Code film production. Like its iconic star, Ladies They Talk About is smart, sexy, and as tough as they come.

Stanwyck stars as Nan Taylor, a career criminal and the lone female member of a gang of bank robbers. When a sharp-eyed detective recognizes Nan at the scene of the robbery, she ends up going to jail, but she also attracts the attention of David Slade (Preston Foster), an energetic young reformer from her old hometown. Nan confesses her role in the robbery to Slade, who then retracts his offer to help her avoid prison, even though he really cares about her. In the women's section of San Quentin, Nan refuses to see Slade and becomes embroiled in her gang's jailbreak attempt, but her feelings for the handsome Slade are far more complicated than she realizes.

This is Stanwyck's picture from start to finish, and she never disappoints. Her Nan is one cool customer, even on her first day in prison. A less self-assured woman might be daunted by the cries of "New fish!" that go up when Nan enters the common rooms, but she promptly shows her mettle and puts down Susie (Dorothy Burgess), the rival whose jealous obsession with Slade makes her Nan's inveterate enemy. Only Slade has the ability to rock Nan's boat; she melts enough to confess to him early on, but his moralistic reaction strikes her as an unforgivable betrayal. She angrily tears up his letters and then plots revenge against him, but her attraction to him reveals her own better nature, even when she herself refuses to acknowledge it.

The other players merely support Stanwyck's performance, but they do so capably, especially Lillian Roth as Nan's scrappy friend, Linda, and the wonderful Ruth Donnelly as a kind-hearted prison matron. Preston Foster has the clean features and erect posture expected of a religious reformer, but he never seems too stuffy to be likable. Dorothy Burgess plays Susie with a compelling mixture of malice and madness without upstaging the star, although Maude Eburne does engage in some scene stealing as the earthy old madam, Aunt Maggie. In fact, the women of San Quentin make up quite a colorful lot, including the murderous Mrs. Arlington (Cecil Cunningham) and the feisty Mustard (Madame Sul-Te-Wan).

Be sure to appreciate the posh amenities of the prison, including the women's numerous pets and the cell walls decorated with movie stars' pictures. For more classic women's prison movies, try Caged (1950) and I Want to Live! (1958). Barbara Stanwyck's other Pre-Code films include Illicit (1931), Night Nurse (1931), and The Purchase Price (1932). You'll find Preston Foster in Doctor X (1932), I am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang (1932), and The Last Days of Pompeii (1935). Howard Bretherton and William Keighley, who directed Ladies They Talk About, also collaborated on The Match King (1932).

Ladies They Talk About is currently available from streaming on Warner Instant Archive.

Six Books for Your Classic Movie Christmas List

It's time to start the Christmas shopping in earnest, and your friends and relations are asking you what you want this year. Maybe you're doing some Christmas shopping for fellow cinephiles, as well. DVDs can be tricky, since everyone with a serious film obsession already owns enough movies to restock a closed Blockbuster location. Whether you're looking for gifts for yourself or others, books can be a great choice. Here are six relatively new books about classic movie topics that you might consider.

VIVIEN LEIGH: AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT - By Kendra Bean, with forward by Claire Bloom

This newest biography of the iconic leading lady is getting great reviews, and I have it at the top of my own wishlist this year. Plenty of  photos enhance the story of Leigh's life and career. The book is currently available in hardback for $22.89 on Amazon, which I think would be preferable to the cheaper Kindle edition because of the illustrations.

A LIFE OF BARBARA STANWYCK: STEEL-TRUE 1907-1940 - By Victoria Wilson

This biography of Stanwyck just came out on November 12, 2013, which means that even hardcore classic movie fans probably don't have it yet. The actress certainly lived an interesting life, so any biography ought to make for exciting reading. Although it retails for $40, you can get the hardcover edition on Amazon for $29.70, while the Kindle edition is just $14.99.

ANN DVORAK: HOLLYWOOD'S FORGOTTEN REBEL - By Christina Rice

If you're looking for a new biography of a more obscure star, you might try this account of the life of Ann Dvorak, perhaps best remembered today for her role in Scarface (1932). This is the first full-length biography of the actress, so it should offer plenty of new information to fans of her films. Published by the University Press of Kentucky, the book retails for $40 but is available in hardcover on Amazon for $35.23. The Kindle edition is $22.99, rather steep for a Kindle ebook but typical of an academic publisher's pricing.

PEG ENTWISTLE AND THE HOLLYWOOD SIGN SUICIDE - By James Zeruk Jr.

Having published two books with McFarland myself, I'm always happy to help get the word out about their authors' publications. James Zeruk is a fellow classic movie fan whose biography of the tragic Peg Entwistle ought to please seriously hardcore classic movie enthusiasts.  Like most McFarland books, the paperback is pretty expensive; Amazon has it for $37.95, but you can get the Kindle edition for $17.99. This book was just released in October, so it's still quite new.

EXTRAS OF EARLY HOLLYWOOD: A HISTORY OF THE CROWD, 1913-1945 - By Kerry Segrave

If you want to get really deep into the obscure people of classic cinema, try Kerry Segrave's account of Hollywood extras. This is also a McFarland title; it was released in April 2013, but it looks like it has flown beneath the radar enough to be something even avid film fans might not know about yet. (McFarland mostly sells to libraries and doesn't really promote its titles to general readers.)

BEYOND CASABLANCA: 100 CLASSIC MOVIES WORTH WATCHING - By Jennifer C. Garlen

My own book came out just a little over a year ago, and people who have bought it tell me they enjoyed it. Beyond Casablanca is meant to be a guide book for both newcomers and veteran fans; as the title suggests, I try to get beyond the most obvious classic movies to discuss films that people might not be as familiar with today. It's available in paperback on Amazon for $16.20 and on Kindle for $4.99.

What books are on your classic movie Christmas wishlist this year?

Classic Films in Focus: THE STRANGE LOVE OF MARTHA IVERS (1946)

Lewis Milestone's 1946 noir thriller, The Strange Love of Martha Ivers, merits attention for a number of reasons, including another excellent femme fatale performance from Double Indemnity (1944) star Barbara Stanwyck. A story of murder, money, and carefully guarded power, the film presents a fascinating commentary on the ways in which early experiences shape personality and determine destiny, either for good or evil. It also offers an outstanding cast in addition to Stanwyck, including Van Heflin, Lizabeth Scott, Kirk Douglas, and Judith Anderson, all of them in top form as the familiar types of the genre.

Stanwyck plays the adult incarnation of Martha Ivers, a character we first meet as a young girl (played by Janis Wilson). Young Martha's fatal argument with her tyrannical aunt (Judith Anderson) sets the wheel of fortune in motion, bringing freedom and power to Martha but also binding her to the few people who might know what really happened that night. Once grown, she marries Walter (Kirk Douglas), the son of her aunt's chief sycophant, and pushes him into politics and the law. The unexpected return of another childhood companion, Sam (Van Heflin), seems to threaten Martha and Walter's long protection of their dark secrets, and the couple will stop at nothing to ensure his silence, even using his newfound love interest, Toni (Lizabeth Scott), as a pawn in their deadly game.

Martha is one of Stanwyck's steeliest and most deranged characters, and those qualities are established by Janis Wilson's performance before Stanwyck even takes over the role. She needs desperately, and because of that she draws both Walter and Sam to her, although in Walter's case her embrace quickly becomes a death grip. Walter and Martha make for a spectacularly dysfunctional couple, fighting, plotting, and hating each other but bound together in a Wuthering Heights kind of codependency. Countering their mad marriage we have Sam's developing relationship with Toni, a hard luck angel who serves as a foil to Stanwyck's spoiled succubus. The audience sees right away that Toni is the right girl for Sam, but Martha's siren appeal confuses him and draws him in, despite the fact that Sam has been around enough that he ought to know better.

The Strange Love of Martha Ivers is also noteworthy because Walter is Kirk Douglas' very first screen role, and he springs fully-formed from the head of Hollywood, holding his own against the well-established Stanwyck, who was nine years his senior and had been in movies for nearly two decades in 1946. Douglas plays Walter as a tragically mixed bag of weakness and good intentions, and his drunk scenes are some of his best moments in the film. His good looks and strong chin suggest that Walter might have been a better man if not for his opportunistic father and dangerous, demanding wife, but he loves Martha in spite of her rotten heart. He can drink himself into a stupor, but he can never leave her, and she knows it all too well. The ending of the movie brings their relationship to a shocking, but perfectly realized, close, with a scene that embodies everything we love about classic noir.

See more of young Kirk Douglas in Out of the Past (1947), his next film and another great example of film noir. Director Lewis Milestone earned the Oscar for Best Director for his work on All Quiet on the Western Front (1930), but he also directed Of Mice and Men (1939) and the original Ocean's 11 (1960). Judith Anderson is best remembered today as Mrs. Danvers in Rebecca (1940), while Van Heflin is probably best known for Shane (1953) and 3:10 to Yuma (1957), although he won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for Johnny Eager (1941). See more of Lizabeth Scott in Dead Reckoning (1947) with Humphrey Bogart. For a different side of Stanwyck, try Stella Dallas (1937 and The Lady Eve (1941.)  

The Strange Love of Martha Ivers is now in the public domain, which means you can see it for free on almost any streaming service, but it looks much better if you can find a high quality print, especially with the stormy scenes early in the film.

Classic Films in Focus: CHRISTMAS IN CONNECTICUT (1945)

Although not as well-known, perhaps, as It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) or White Christmas (1954), Christmas in Connecticut (1945) is a holiday charmer justly beloved by many classic movie fans. Headliner Barbara Stanwyck makes an engaging heroine in this comedy of yuletide romance, but the real attractions here are the supporting players, particularly Sydney Greenstreet and S.Z. Sakall as two funny fat fellows who constantly steal the show from the more serious leads. With lively direction from Peter Godfrey and entertaining performances from Dennis Morgan, Reginald Gardiner, and Una O’Connor, Christmas in Connecticut is a great addition to the “must-see” list of holiday films.

Stanwyck stars as Elizabeth Lane, a successful columnist whose idyllic tales of married domestic life are pure fiction. Her elaborate deception catches up with her when a Navy war hero (Dennis Morgan) and her unsuspecting publisher (Sydney Greenstreet) ask to spend Christmas at her imaginary farm, forcing Elizabeth to procure a home, a husband, and a baby on short notice. Elizabeth is even set to marry bland boyfriend John (Reginald Gardiner) to sell the holiday ruse, but sparks fly when she meets Jeff, the handsome hero, even though he’s engaged to another girl.

Stanwyck is best remembered today for her femme fatale roles in noir classics like Double Indemnity (1944), but she was adept at romantic comedy, as well. Christmas in Connecticut shows a softer, more relaxed Stanwyck than we see in most of her other films. As Elizabeth, her hair is longer and her look is more natural; she’s not playing the tough cookie type this time. The love triangle of the plot gives her two leading men to play against, the wet blanket, all work and no play architect played by Gardiner and the all-American wartime good guy played by Morgan. Of course Morgan’s Jeff is the man for her; we know it from the way her eyes light up the moment he walks in the door, but the fun comes from seeing how the two of them will overcome the obvious but largely fictional obstacles to their romance.

As good as Stanwyck’s performance is, the comedians in the supporting roles are the real gems. Greenstreet and Sakall, both portly character actors with talent as great as their girths, are simply hilarious, especially as they begin to work in cahoots near the movie’s close. Una O’Connor has less to do, but she’s in fine form, sporting her full Irish accent and the usual busybody bluster at which she excels. I would say Joyce Compton’s drawl as Mary Lee is a bit much had the actress not been born in Kentucky, but she certainly does pour it on. Try watching the 1939 short, Hollywood Hobbies, for a different sense of Compton’s sound and style.

See more of Stanwyck’s comedic roles in The Lady Eve (1941) and Ball of Fire (1941). Greenstreet is celebrated today primarily for his debut role in The Maltese Falcon (1941), but you’ll also find him in Casablanca (1942) and Across the Pacific (1942). S.Z. Sakall appears with Stanwyck in Ball of Fire and also has a role in Casablanca, but he turns up in Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942) and In the Good Old Summertime (1949), as well. Look for Dennis Morgan in Kitty Foyle (1940) and My Wild Irish Rose (1947). Don’t miss the marvelous Una O’Connor in classics like The Bride of Frankenstein (1935), The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), and Witness for the Prosecution (1957).

An earlier version of this review originally appeared on Examiner.com. The author retains all rights to this content.

Classic Films in Focus: LADY OF BURLESQUE (1943)

How does one make a movie about burlesque strippers during the height of the Hays Code? It seems like an impossible task, but that's exactly what Lady of Burlesque (1943) attempts to do, with Barbara Stanwyck as the titillating titular lady. It's a minor film from Stanwyck's body of work, directed by William A. Wellman and adapted from a novel by burlesque queen Gypsy Rose Lee, but it has certain charms, including a really striking quantity of exposed female flesh. As a backstage murder comedy, Lady of Burlesque delivers some laughs, several corpses, and an interesting perspective on the changing world of stage entertainment in the early twentieth century.

Stanwyck plays Dixie Daisy, the new girl in a burlesque show staged at an old opera house. She deals with the usual backstage politics, including jealousy and fighting among the girls and romantic entanglements among the various performers, but the atmosphere becomes even more heated when one of the strippers turns up dead, strangled by her own g-string. Dixie and an amorous comic, Biff Brannigan (Michael O'Shea), dance around their attraction to one another while trying to figure out who is conniving to ruin the show by killing off its stars. In the meantime, the killer strikes again, and the cops are ready to nab the first likely suspect in a crowd of offbeat characters.

The worst part of the movie might be Stanwyck's singing, but she looks great in the skimpy burlesque costumes and gives the dance numbers a good go. She seems perfectly at home in the backstage setting; in fact, Stanwyck herself was a product of that world, having been raised by her showgirl sister after the early death of their mother. The other girls are all amusing characters, especially Stephanie Bachelor's irritating prima donna, the Princess Nirvena. Michael O'Shea's Biff is a fun guy and a good match for Stanwyck, although Pinky Lee is funnier as the childlike comic, Mandy.

If you like Stanwyck's comedic turns in The Lady Eve (1941) and Ball of Fire (1941), you'll enjoy Lady of Burlesque, as well, and it's also good for those who like the backstage shenanigans of "puttin' on a show" films like 42nd Street (1933). Lady of Burlesque earned an Oscar nomination for its score, but there were a whopping 16 nominees for the award that year, including Casablanca (1941), although the winner was ultimately The Song of Bernadette (1943). Oddly enough, William A. Wellman's other 1943 picture was The Ox-Bow Incident.

For more of Stanwyck's lesser known films, try Night Nurse (1931), Baby Face (1933), and The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946). She earned an Academy Award nomination for Stella Dallas (1937) but is probably best remembered today as the scheming murderess of Double Indemnity (1944). Gypsy Rose Lee appeared in several films, including Stage Door Canteen (1943) and The Trouble with Angels (1966), but the memorable film associated with her is the biopic, Gypsy (1962), with Natalie Wood playing the striptease celebrity. See more of director Wellman's work in The Public Enemy (1931), A Star is Born (1937), and Westward the Women (1951). He made several other excellent Westerns over the course of his career.

Lady of Burlesque is now in the public domain, so you can watch it for free at the Internet Archive or on various streaming video providers like Netflix Instant Viewing.

An earlier version of this review originally appeared on Examiner.com. The author retains all rights to this content.

Classic Films in Focus: NIGHT NURSE (1931)

As part of the Turner Classic Movies collection, Forbidden Hollywood Volume 2, Night Nurse (1931) represents the kinds of pictures made before the infamous Hays Code took effect and began to censor what movies could and could not show to the American viewing public. Prurient interests aside, Night Nurse is worth watching for several reasons, not the least of which is the opportunity to see Barbara Stanwyck square off against Clark Gable.

The plot focuses on Stanwyck's character, Lora Hart, a plucky young woman who devotes herself to a nursing career and eventually becomes entangled in a scheme to murder two little girls for their trust fund money. The first half of the film chronicles Lora's rise through the nurse training program, showing her to be a determined but good-hearted girl who faints in the operating room after a patient suddenly dies. The look on Lora's face as she hands out babies in the maternity ward tells us all that we need to know about her basic nature, so it comes as no surprise when her maternal instincts are roused by the plight of her two young charges, who are being slowly starved to death in a conspiracy engineered by the mother's menacing chauffeur, Nick (Gable).

Stanwyck, of course, became an icon playing femme fatale and tough cookie types, and this role is something of a departure for her, even in the early days of her long career, although it helps pave the way for her maternal turn in Stella Dallas (1937). The plot of the film might have made Night Nurse a Gothic tale except for the resolutely practical personality that Stanwyck manifests, and it is a great relief to see her aptly named Lora Hart so courageous and unyielding when other heroines might have collapsed under the strain.

Gable is just pure evil as Nick, the villainous chauffeur who keeps the girls' mother sloppy drunk as part of his plan to murder the children and then grab the trust fund fortune by marrying the incapacitated woman. Presumably he intends to become a widower soon afterward. Everyone else in the movie seems to be deathly afraid of him, and it's easy to see why whenever he appears in his black chauffeur's uniform, reeking of cruelty and masculine power. He is a violent man, which the film shows us very early on and then never lets us forget. We understand that he is a man who really will starve defenseless little girls to death, and Gable makes for a perfectly convincing villain in every respect. If he hadn't become a leading man he might have made a fine character actor for heavies.

Enjoy the loose talk, the various scenes of Stanwyck and Joan Blondell dressing and undressing, and the other scandalous bits of the film, but take note of the "view from the driver's seat" camera work, too. The movie experiments with some wonderful camera angles designed to convey the drama and urgency of the medical profession, particularly in the ambulance scenes. Night Nurse is packaged as a source of titillation for those who want to see Hollywood’s lustier period, but it is a fine picture, tightly plotted and extremely well acted by some of classic cinema's greatest stars. The Night Nurse disc from the Forbidden Hollywood collection also contains the fascinating documentary, Thou Shalt Not: Sex, Sin and Censorship in Pre-Code Hollywood, which provides a very entertaining overview of the Hays Code and the ways in which it altered the film industry's standards.

For more of Stanwyck’s Pre-Code pictures, see Ladies They Talk About (1933) and Baby Face (1933) on other volumes of the Forbidden Hollywood collection. Stanwyck makes some of her most memorable appearances in The Lady Eve (1941), Ball of Fire (1941), and Double Indemnity (1944). In addition to his iconic performance in Gone with the Wind (1939), see Clark Gable in It Happened One Night (1934), Wife vs. Secretary (1936), and The Misfits (1961). Director William A. Wellman also helmed The Public Enemy (1931), The Ox-Bow Incident (1943), and Westward the Women (1951).

An earlier version of this review originally appeared on Examiner.com. The author retains all rights to this content.

Theresa Harris, Classic Movie Actress

Few people today know anything about Theresa Harris, but if you have seen more than a handful of classic movies in your life, you have seen her. Harris, who was born in Texas in 1906, appeared in more than 80 films between 1929 and 1958, although many of her roles were small, uncredited parts. How could someone appear in so many classic movies and yet be so obscure?

The answer is simple, if disheartening. Theresa Harris was an African-American actress working in the lily white world of Hollywood's "Golden Age," and for almost thirty years this talented and beautiful performer spent her time and talent playing servants, maids, and slaves to the silver screen's most celebrated stars. Gorgeous, poised, and charismatic, Harris might have become a huge star had she been born in a different era. In recent years, she has attracted some new and long overdue attention, as this 2011 New York Times article about the play, By the Way, Meet Vera Stark, reveals, but she’s still far from being a household name.

Here are just a few notable films where you'll find Theresa Harris, always memorable for her beauty and solid performances in spite of the small size of her roles. 

Baby Face (1933) - This pre-Code Barbara Stanwyck drama is probably the best place to see Harris in a larger role; as Stanwyck's companion and collaborator, Chico, Harris has significant screen time and some subtle character development. Early in the film, the two women function primarily as friends and equals, but as Stanwyck’s ambitious Lily sleeps her way to the top, Chico has to resort to playing lady’s maid in Lily’s increasingly swanky digs. At least Lily never abandons or betrays Chico, as she does her male victims, and Chico clearly benefits from the relationship.

Jezebel (1938) - Harris plays the slave maid, Zette, to Bette Davis' tempestuous Southern belle in this gripping period melodrama. She would play similar roles in a number of pictures, where her uncredited maid characters often remain nameless, even though they have scenes and lines with the top-billed stars.

Cat People (1942) - Harris appears in a bit part in this horror classic from Val Lewton and Jacques Tourneur; look for her as the waitress in the restaurant scene. This time, at least, she’s not a maid or a servant, and she has a few nice lines with her costars.

I Walked with a Zombie (1943) - A second outing with Lewton and Tourneur offers Harris more screen time as Alma, one of the servants on a voodoo haunted tropical island. Aside from Baby Face, this might be Harris' biggest role in a well-known film. It’s not an especially liberated part, but Harris plays a well-developed character and has many important scenes with star Anna Lee. You’ll also get a great look at Harris’ gorgeous face and animated expressions, which highlight her unrealized star potential.

Out of the Past (1947) - Harris only has one scene in this classic noir film, but director Jacques Tourneur knew from experience that she could do a lot with a very small part. Watch for her as Jane Greer's former maid in the club scene where Robert Mitchum tries to find out where Greer has gone.

Tension (1949) - If you blink you'll miss Harris as a drug store customer in this underappreciated noir gem starring Audrey Totter and Richard Basehart. This kind of role was also typical of Harris’ career, but at least some of the walk-on parts broke away from the maid stereotype.

You'll also find Harris in The Women (1939), Phantom Lady (1944), The Big Clock (1948), The File on Thelma Jordan (1950), and Angel Face (1952). 

An earlier version of this article appeared on Examiner.com. The author retains all rights to this content.