Classic Films in Focus: BARBARY COAST (1935)

Howard Hawks made far better and more memorable films than the 1935 period drama, Barbary Coast, but the movie is worth watching for a number of reasons, not least of which is Edward G. Robinson with an earring. The title identifies the setting of this rather gritty picture as the wildest section of San Francisco during the California Gold Rush; within this powder keg location we find Robinson ensconced as one of his most flamboyant heavies, playing opposite a grimly determined Miriam Hopkins and a naive Joel McCrea. If you're a particular fan of any of those stars you'll find enough in Barbary Coast to keep you entertained, but the film also boasts several bonuses in its supporting players, including Walter Brennan, Brian Donlevy, Frank Craven, and Donald Meek. Basically a Western with a melodramatic slant, Barbary Coast isn't perfect, but it is an interesting depiction of a woman's struggle to survive in a world of violence, gold, and lawless, dangerous men.

Hopkins stars as Mary Rutledge, who arrives in San Francisco to find her impending marriage ruined by the murder of the man she meant to wed. Undeterred, Mary quickly gets herself into the good graces of the local crime boss and gambling hall owner, Louis Chamalis (Robinson). As Swan she serves as the attractive bait that lures gold-loaded miners to try their luck at Louis' rigged roulette wheel, but Louis becomes violently jealous when he suspects that she has met a man whom she likes better than him. The newcomer is handsome Jim Carmichael (Joel McCrea), a poetic miner ready to head back East if he can get out of San Francisco without losing his gold, his heart, and his life.

With its Western trappings and melodramatic perspective, the movie has to juggle the masculine elements of its world with the heroine's emotional narrative, a task made more complicated by the enforcement of the Hays Code. Anyone paying the slightest bit of attention understands that Mary is Louis' mistress, but the scenes tend to be coy enough that a stubbornly prudish person - say, Joseph Breen - could pretend that Mary's moral crisis is only about working a crooked wheel. Mary is the only female character with any screen time of note; it's clear that she's fighting to get by in an aggressively male society, and she does that by embracing stereotypes of hyper femininity like beauty, charm, and heartlessness. The dirty men of the city, agog at the arrival of a "white woman," carry her over the filthy streets to keep her dress from getting muddy; they treat her as if she were made of fine china, and she encourages it, especially because it subjects them to her control. Her chance encounter with Jim Carmichael catches her off guard and reminds her of the person she was before San Francisco, but that endangers both of them because it becomes harder for Mary to return to her life as Swan. She overcompensates at first, then relents, while around her the fierce male world erupts into violence and vigilante retribution. The ending lays bare some of the problems with the uneasy coupling of the two genres and their gendered worlds; it doesn't work, partly because it forces murderous Louis to shift abruptly from Western blackguard to melodramatic love martyr.

Hopkins gives a very solid performance as the morally conflicted Mary; she has a perfect look for the role but is also able to convey her character's calculated coldness and desire for gold. The men dwarf her physically, but she dominates the screen; only Robinson really wrests attention away from her, and he has help from his oddly piratical costume. Robinson doesn't really break any new ground with the Louis character, but he's always such a compelling villain that it doesn't matter. McCrea comes into the movie like a lamb to the slaughter; he seems too big and strong to be credible as a guy who only survives because of lucky chances, but at least it's easy to see why Hopkins' character likes him. The supporting players bring the Western atmosphere to life, with Walter Brennan in fine form as the mischievous coot, Old Atrocity, lovable in spite of his many flaws, and Frank Craven tragic and compelling as the crusading journalist who wants to tell the city the truth about its crooked ways. Brian Donlevy, always useful as a tough guy, doesn't talk much as Louis' muscle, Knuckles, but he does make his ominous presence felt. Donald Meek gets a few good scenes as Sawbuck, one of many miners to fall prey to Swan's spinning wheel, and Harry Carey leads the town's vigilantes with dogged purpose. With all of these actors in the mix, Western aficionados will have plenty to appreciate, even if the melodramatic elements of the picture don't appeal.

Be aware that Barbary Coast lives up to its setting's reputation for racial antagonism, especially of the Chinese. The picture earned an Oscar nomination for Best Cinematography, but Howard Hawks went on to more enduring hits with Bringing Up Baby (1938), The Big Sleep (1946), and Rio Bravo (1959). See Miriam Hopkins in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931), Trouble in Paradise (1932), and The Old Maid (1939). Edward G. Robinson is best remembered today for noir films like Double Indemnity (1944) and Key Largo (1948), but he's delightful in the less familiar comedy, Brother Orchid (1940), in which he pokes fun at his earlier roles in gangster films. I find Joel McCrea irresistible in Sullivan's Travels (1941) and The More the Merrier (1943), but for contrast in his Western work try Ride the High Country (1962). If you thrill to tales of the Barbary Coast, check out Frisco Kid (1935), San Francisco (1936), or Flame of Barbary Coast (1945).

Classic Films in Focus: BATHING BEAUTY (1944)

Although she makes appearances in two earlier feature films, Bathing Beauty (1944) marks the debut of Esther Williams as a fully realized Hollywood star, with plenty of opportunities to show off her attractive figure and her signature swimming skills. This light, frothy comedy from director George Sidney is typical of the wartime Technicolor musicals released to buoy public morale and entertain the troops overseas; it doesn't take itself very seriously, and its thin plot is as much an excuse for a series of musical set pieces as anything else. In spite of that, Bathing Beauty provides plenty of entertainment for those who enjoy its particular kind of musical comedy, with Williams looking lovely and quite game for her romantic high jinks with costar Red Skelton. Musical performances from Xavier Cugat, Harry James, and Ethel Smith also make this a fun film for fans of the era's big band sound.

Williams stars as Caroline Brooks, a swimming teacher at a women's college who falls in love with song writer Steve Elliot (Red Skelton) during a trip to California. When Steve's friend and employer, George (Basil Rathbone), breaks up the couple's wedding with a phony bigamy claim, Caroline goes back to her job at the school, and Steve enrolls there as a student in order to convince her of his innocence. The faculty conspire to get Steve expelled, while his musician friends and new college classmates work equally hard to help him out.

As slight as its plot is, there are moments when Bathing Beauty falters, mostly in the bizarre waste of Basil Rathbone as the cause of Steve's marital woes. Williams occasionally shows her inexperience, as well, but she has a natural charm that quickly wins the audience over. She's an all-American beauty, tall, athletic, but utterly feminine, and she's especially flirtatious in her underwater scenes. The movie originally belonged to Red Skelton, with the title Mr. Co-Ed, but Williams usurped him and caused the focus of the picture to be altered. In spite of being knocked to second place, Skelton still has all of the movie's funniest scenes, and his character remains the most interesting and developed figure in the story. His ballet sequence, complete with pink tutu, is a scream, but he's also a lot of fun in his musical number, "I'll Take the High Note," performed with the adorably spunky Jean Porter. Skelton, whose mentor at MGM was Buster Keaton, excels at an expressive, physical comedy that recalls the silent era; he has the sweetness of a classic clown rather than the brash bravado of a Pre-Code comedian or more verbal comedic leads like Jack Carson. There's something sincere and vulnerable about Skelton's character that causes us to root for him even in the most ridiculous circumstances, like the scene when his romantic rival's huge dog keeps him trapped in Caroline's house, and he resorts to wearing her clothes in order to fool the beast.

Musical sequences fill as much of the film's running time as the narrative itself, offering audiences across the country a chance to enjoy the performances of the era's biggest acts. Although they play themselves, the musical stars also contribute to the story line by interacting with the protagonists and trying to help Steve, but they're really there to show off their stuff. Band leader Xavier Cugat and his orchestra open the picture with a poolside performance, assisted by Carlos Ramirez singing "Magic is the Moonlight." Harry James and his orchestra also perform, with James tearing it up on the trumpet. More unusual is the appearance of organist Ethel Smith as one of the college's music teachers; her numbers, which emphasize her footwork and sense of fun, are especially entertaining. Disney fans might recognize Smith from her "Blame It on the Samba" segment in Melody Time (1948), and she turns up again in the 1946 Williams picture, Easy to Wed.

Be sure to note familiar character actor Donald Meek in a brief but significant role; he gives Steve the idea to enroll at Victoria College. For more from George Sidney, see Anchors Aweigh (1945), The Harvey Girls (1946), and Kiss Me Kate (1953); Sidney directs Williams again in Jupiter's Darling (1955). Esther Williams and Red Skelton both appear in Ziegfeld Follies (1945), Neptune's Daughter (1949), and Texas Carnival (1951). See Williams with different leading men in Easy to Wed (1946), Take Me Out to the Ballgame (1949), and Dangerous When Wet (1953). Skelton had a long television career, for which he is best remembered today, but you can see his earlier work in films like Ship Ahoy (1942), Panama Hattie (1942), and Du Barry Was a Lady (1943).

Classic Films in Focus: HOLLYWOOD CAVALCADE (1939)

Fox’s Technicolor Tinseltown retrospective is by no means one of the most significant pictures to come out in 1939, but Hollywood Cavalcade has its charms as a sentimental tribute to the silent film era. Like the later - and much better - MGM musical, Singin’ in the Rain (1952), this story follows the changing fortunes of silent movie stars as the sound age arrives, with Alice Faye and Don Ameche as the leads in a cast that also includes some real veterans of the earlier era. Silent movie fans will find Hollywood Cavalcade worthwhile for its cameos and silent segments, even if its vision of cinema history is both romanticized and compressed, while Fox devotees will be glad to see strong performances from Faye, Ameche, and the very likable J. Edward Bromberg.

Don Ameche plays rising filmmaker Mike Connors, who signs Broadway actress Molly Adair (Alice Faye) and stakes his career on making her a star. Once they arrive in the infant Hollywood, still awash in orange groves, Mike and Molly start making pictures together, and Molly soon becomes a huge success. Molly pines for Mike’s romantic attention, but his single-minded obsession with the movies leads her to marry her handsome leading man, Nicky (Alan Curtis), which provokes a rift with the outraged Mike. Even Mike’s long-suffering friend and backer, Dave Spingold (J. Edward Bromberg), eventually walks out on the difficult and self-destructive director, but Molly, Nicky, and Dave never stop hoping for reconciliation and a chance to help Mike get his career back on track.

Oddly enough, Alice Faye never sings in this picture, and although the silent film sequences contain a lot of slapstick the central narrative is really a drama that focuses on the collateral damage caused by Mike’s intense dedication to his art. Ameche therefore carries most of the story’s punch, and he’s very good, especially as Mike spirals downward after Molly and Nicky marry. We understand, of course, that Mike has his chance with Molly and ignores it, but to Mike her marriage seems like an unforgivable betrayal, and it becomes a catalyst for the rise of his darker side. Mike’s movie-making combines the efforts of Mack Sennett, D.W. Griffith, Cecil B. DeMille, and other early innovators, and we see him run through the major styles defined by the silent directors in the inevitable march toward sound.

Alice Faye takes most of the comedy work in stride, getting pies in the face from Buster Keaton and being chased around by the Keystone Cops. Some of her silent film segments run a bit long, but they’re sincere homages to the earlier age, and it’s nice to see some of the old stars reliving their glory days, especially Al Jolson in the climactic recreation of The Jazz Singer (1927). Mack Sennett plays himself, as do Ben Turpin, Chester Conklin, and Lee Duncan, although Rin-Tin-Tin Jr. stands in for the original Rin-Tin-Tin. In the regular supporting cast, handsome Alan Curtis makes an attractive second choice as Molly’s love interest but has little to do, while J. Edward Bromberg brings a lot of heart to his loyal sidekick character. Modern viewers will probably find Willie Fung an irritating stereotype, but Donald Meek has a good small role as the studio head who first clashes with Mike.

Although Irving Cummings is the credited director for Hollywood Cavalcade, both Buster Keaton and Malcolm St. Clair made contributions to the film. Cummings, a silent film veteran himself, also made Curly Top (1935), Lillian Russell (1940), and Down Argentine Way (1940). For more Hollywood commentaries on motion picture history, try Footlight Parade (1933), Sunset Boulevard (1950), or The Artist (2011). Alice Faye and Don Ameche also star together in In Old Chicago (1937), Alexander’s Ragtime Band (1938), and That Night in Rio (1941). Catch J. Edward Bromberg in Strange Cargo (1940), The Mark of Zorro (1940), and Son of Dracula (1943).

Hollywood Cavalcade is included in the Alice Faye Collection Volume 2, and the DVD includes some several good bonus features, including a featurette about the film.

Classic Films in Focus: JESSE JAMES (1939)

Even in their own lifetimes, Frank and Jesse James became the stuff of legend rather than historical fact, so it's no surprise that the 1939 film, Jesse James, is more romantic fiction than biographical account. This is the mythology of the outlaw recast for the big screen, full of handsome faces and daring deeds, and it makes for a mighty fine tale, too, thanks in part to Nunnally Johnson's screenplay and Henry King's rousing direction. The cast includes the rather irresistible duo of Tyrone Power as Jesse and Henry Fonda as his brother, Frank, along with a host of other favorite classic stars like Randolph Scott, John Carradine, and even Slim Summerville bringing grit and gumption to the inhabitants of the outlaws' world.

Power takes top billing as Jesse James, who turns to crime only because unscrupulous railroad men try to swindle and then bully his family out of their home and end up killing the boys' mother (Jane Darwell) in the process. Jesse's lifetime commitment to retribution begins with the man who killed his mother (Brian Donlevy), which puts him on the top of the railroad's most wanted list, but he's just getting warmed up. Along with Frank and a small gang, Jesse robs and raids the railroad at every opportunity, becoming a folk hero to the farmers who hate the big money and corrupt practices of the railroad bosses. His outlaw lifestyle proves a strain on his romance with Zee (Nancy Kelly), but even lawman Will Wright (Randolph Scott) has to admire his daring feats, especially when the real villains are spineless crooks like Mr. McCoy (Donald Meek), the railroad head determined to see Jesse hang.

Power turns in a very charismatic performance as Jesse, which makes his relationship with Zee more tender and credible than it might otherwise be, given that he misses major events like the birth of their child and drives Zee to distraction with his dangerous career. Fonda, sadly, is rather underused; Frank pops in and out of the story without much explanation, although when he does show up Fonda gives him plenty of presence and a taciturn, frontier sense of humor that makes us miss him even more when he vanishes again. Randolph Scott's huge physical presence and good-guy jaw make him a fascinating third in a love triangle with Jesse and Zee, but his lawman is too much the gentleman to do more than wait for Zee to come to her senses or for Jesse to reach the obvious end of the life he leads.

Other veteran character players contribute to the atmosphere; Brian Donlevy is truly reprehensible as the railroad bully, but Donald Meek delivers an even more despicable character as his superior, McCoy. In Westerns in a Changing America: 1955-2000, R. Philip Loy describes Meek as "badly miscast" in the role (198), but I think Meek's interpretation of the character as a duplicitous and essentially cowardly little weasel works very well, especially in contrast to Power's romantic outlaw. Jane Darwell's brief appearance as the James matriarch is worth mentioning, as well; she would have an even better turn as Henry Fonda's mother in The Grapes of Wrath (1940) the following year, and she went on to co-star with him in The Ox-Bow Incident (1943) and My Darling Clementine (1946). John Carradine turns up near the end as the infamous Robert Ford, while Henry Hull provides some comic relief as the blustering but kindly Major Rufus Cobb. Blink and you'll miss Lon Chaney Jr. in a very small role as a nameless member of the James gang.

The action in the picture is both exciting and disturbing, especially the infamous cliff jumping scene that ended in the death of a horse and eventually led to the American Humane Association's oversight of the treatment of animals in future films. Another scene has Frank and Jesse jump their horses through a store window and into the midst of a crowded shop; in 1957, The True Story of Jesse James reused both scenes for its own take on the James Gang story, even featuring them in its trailer.

I can't recommend watching Jesse James as an accurate piece of history, but as a Western it works very well, and fans of the genre's best character actors will find a lot to appreciate. It's interesting to note that the very first screen version of Jesse James was played by none other than Jesse James, Jr. in 1921. Other films about the James Gang include Days of Jesse James (1939) and Jesse James at Bay (1941), both starring Roy Rogers, as well as Jesse James Rides Again (1947), The Great Northfield Minnesota Raid (1972), The Long Riders (1980), and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007). For more of Tyrone Power, see The Mark of Zorro (1940), The Black Swan (1942), and Witness for the Prosecution (1957).

Classic Films in Focus: MARK OF THE VAMPIRE (1935)

Like Dracula's Daughter (1936), Mark of the Vampire (1935) plays out as a kind of semi-sequel to Dracula (1931), even though this Tod Browning picture was made for MGM rather than Universal. The movie reunites Browning with his Dracula star, Bela Lugosi, but it also stocks the screen with a bevy of other memorable stars, including Lionel Barrymore, Jean Hersholt, Lionel Atwill, and Donald Meek. The film suffers from plot holes made worse by the studio's decision to cut several scenes, and today it is not nearly as well known as its iconic predecessor, but fans of the horror genre and classic star watchers will find Mark of the Vampire interesting enough because of its cast and the ways in which it looks back at the 1931 original.

The story revolves around the murder of Sir Karell (Holmes Herbert), who is found drained of blood with two small marks on his neck. The locals blame two vampires, Count Mora (Bela Lugosi) and Luna (Carroll Borland), who are said to haunt the neighborhood castle. When Sir Karell's daughter, Irena (Elizabeth Allan), and her suitor, Fedor (Henry Wadsworth), are also attacked, an occult expert (Lionel Barrymore) is called in to hunt down the undead creatures, but the truth is both stranger and more earthly than it first appears.

Top-billed Lionel Barrymore doesn't actually make his appearance in the film until twenty minutes in, but his Professor Zelen takes over the Van Helsing role, played by Barrymore as a sort of old time politician with lots of posturing and self-conscious gestures. If he hams it up a bit too much, at least it helps him hold the screen against Hersholt, Atwill, and Lugosi, all of whom are far more interesting than the story's dull romantic leads. The scene stealer of the bunch, however, is newcomer Carroll Borland, who looks terrific with her pale face, staring eyes, and flowing white shroud. Her attacks on Irena recall J. Sheridan Le Fanu's predatory Carmilla and provide some of the best images of the picture.

Despite the effective Gothic atmosphere and unusual vampire effects that Browning builds up in the first part of the film, he ultimately opts for a Radcliffean model of Gothic narrative that reveals the appearance of the supernatural as mere facade. While that allows for a smirking coda of comedy with Lugosi and Borland, it also creates huge problems with the logic of the events that have already occurred. Viewers will end up asking a lot of questions that simply have no answers, although some of them, perhaps, were addressed in the missing scenes that MGM cut out. Why, for example, does Count Mora sport a ghastly wound on his temple? How do the vampires fly in and out of second story rooms? At least the ending does help us understand why a household under attack from supposed vampires keeps opening all of its windows and doors at night.

Mark of the Vampire is no masterpiece, certainly, but at only 60 minutes long it repays the time spent on it with an entertaining look at some truly iconic Hollywood stars. For more of Browning's work with Lionel Barrymore, see The Devil-Doll (1936). You'll find Barrymore and Hersholt in both Grand Hotel (1932) and Dinner at Eight (1933). Lionel Atwill, a genre regular, turns up in horror classics like The Vampire Bat (1933), Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933), Son of Frankenstein (1939), and Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943). See more of Bela himself in White Zombie (1932), The Wolf Man (1941), and Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948).