Classic Films in Focus: RED DUST (1932)

Steamy Pre-Code sensuality drives the plot of Victor Fleming’s Red Dust (1932), in which Clark Gable and Jean Harlow prove the powder keg appeal of their onscreen chemistry. The story unfolds against the equally heated backdrop of an exotic tropical location, where tigers and torrential rains mirror the violent natural forces at work in human hearts. Like many classic films with Eastern settings, Red Dust suffers from an Orientalist attitude toward the native workers and a horribly stereotypical Chinese domestic, but Gable and Harlow are so good that the movie works in spite of it, and Mary Astor gives an excellent performance as the married rival who loses her moral high ground by falling for Harlow’s man.

Gable stars as Dennis Carson, the head of a remote rubber plantation in Indochina. When his masculine world is invaded by streetwise Vantine (Jean Harlow), Carson complains loudly but soon takes advantage of the situation and Vantine’s considerable charms. Vantine hopes for a real relationship, but Carson throws her over when the well-heeled Barbara (Mary Astor) arrives with her naive husband, Gary (Gene Raymond). After Carson nurses Gary through a dangerous fever, he earns the younger man’s fervent admiration, which makes Carson feel guilty for his affair with Barbara. Jealousy erupts into violence as the monsoon season bears down and Gary finally begins to suspect Carson’s designs on his wife.

Red Dust was the second film in which both Gable and Harlow appeared but the first to capitalize on their sex appeal as leads; they work together so well because both have screen personalities that radiate toughness and animal lust. Gable looks like a guy whose idea of romance is a rough and tumble roll in the hay, and Harlow is just the kind of girl to like it that way. The surprise for us - and for Carson and Vantine - is that their attraction to each other becomes something more lasting and substantial. Carson chases Barbara because she appears as a rarity in his world, but it’s clear that she can never belong to it, and Gary’s boyish innocence is too pathetic and pure even for the worldly Carson to destroy. Vantine might be a woman of easy virtue, but she ultimately has more integrity than Barbara; she isn’t the one committing adultery on the heels of her honeymoon, and her lies protect both Gary and Barbara from their own foolishness. Their spontaneous acts of altruism and generosity assure us that Carson and Vantine deserve each other; whatever their faults, they’re better people than even they realize until the moment of truth arrives.

The setting for the story provides arresting images, from the tiger prowling the forest to Harlow naked in a rain barrel, but it also falls back on the usual clichés of lazy coolies and simple-minded house servants. The rubber plantation workers are represented as so much human cattle, with some pointed remarks about their eagerness to rape white women thrown in, but the most grating element for modern viewers is Willie Fung’s idiotic Hoy, who unfortunately gets the movie’s last line. Fung made a career of these kinds of roles, and it’s not his fault that parts for Asian actors were so limited in classic Hollywood, but his Chinese version of Stepin Fetchit is almost impossible to watch. Donald Crisp’s Guidon is an obnoxious drunk, but even he fares better than Hoy, who serves as the butt of a running gag that isn’t funny in the first place.

For more of Clark Gable and Jean Harlow, see Hold Your Man (1933), China Seas (1935), and Harlow’s final film, Saratoga (1937). Victor Fleming, who was uncredited as the director of Red Dust, is best remembered for his work on The Wizard of Oz (1939) and Gone with the Wind (1939), but he also worked with Harlow on Bombshell (1933). Look for Mary Astor in The Maltese Falcon (1941), The Palm Beach Story (1942), and Meet Me in St. Louis (1944). John Ford remade Red Dust as Mogambo in 1953, with Clark Gable starring once more; Ava Gardner and Grace Kelly both earned Oscar nominations for their performances as the female rivals for his love.

Classic Films in Focus: HONOLULU (1939)

Comedies about mistaken or switched identity go all the way back to the Ancient Romans and the Menaechmus brothers, but the most familiar iteration of the plot might be Mark Twain's The Prince and the Pauper, which has been adapted, revised, and parodied so many times that even Barbie and Mickey Mouse have had a go at it. The 1939 musical comedy, Honolulu, clearly draws from this much-visited well of inspiration, although in this case neither of the identical strangers could be considered a pauper, since one is a movie star and the other owns a Hawaiian pineapple plantation. Honolulu doesn't break any new cinematic ground, especially in its dated racial stereotypes, and its plot is feather light, but it's as frothy a concoction as any sweet tropical treat, and fun performances from Robert Young, Eleanor Powell, and Gracie Allen make it well worth the short time it takes to watch.

Robert Young plays movie idol Brooks Mason and plantation owner George Smith, who exchange places so that Mason can relax in Hawaii while Smith gets some cosmopolitan polish in New York. On the boat over to the islands, Mason meets dancer Dorothy (Eleanor Powell) and courts her as George Smith, only to find his romantic plans complicated by Smith's off-and-on fiancee, Cecelia (Rita Johnson). Chaos ensues, especially as "Brooks Mason" is repeatedly mobbed by fans and "George Smith" is jailed for theft, but the biggest challenge is getting both men paired up with the right partners before the wrong George says "I do" to Cecelia at the altar.

Robert Young has the most to do in the picture, since he plays not one but two protagonists, but Eleanor Powell gets top billing, and her dance numbers are really the movie's chief attraction. The Hawaiian hula sequence, which is the most famous bit, is really a terrific performance by Powell, and her duet with Gracie Allen, who plays her sidekick, Millie, is also great fun. Powell's tribute to Bill Robinson, done in blackface, proves more troublesome for the modern viewer, but it makes an interesting counterpoint to Fred Astaire's similar performance of "Bojangles of Harlem" in Swing Time (1936). In between Powell's dance routines, Robert Young provides comedy and some semblance of a romantic plot, although the best doppelganger gags occur early in the film.

You won't get much Hawaiian atmosphere from the sound stage sets, but Honolulu makes up for its phony backdrops with a chance to see Burns and Allen on the big screen. The comedy duo made quite a few shorts and a couple of features together throughout the 1930s, but Honolulu would be the last movie to star both of them, and we have to wait until the very end to see them actually in a shot together. Allen has a lot more screen time than her wisecracking spouse, and she's a riot, especially during a shipboard sequence when a costume party inspires her to dress up as Mae West and perform "The Leader Doesn't Like Music" with The King's Men dressed as The Marx Brothers.

Eddie Anderson and Willie Fung both get relegated to their usual comic relief roles as stereotyped domestics, but at least the movie credits both actors for their work. Don't miss Sig Ruman and Ruth Hussey in small roles; Hussey plays the leading lady in the movie scene that opens the picture. Director Edward Buzzell also made Marx Brothers films like Go West (1940) and Esther Williams vehicles like Neptune's Daughter (1949). See more of Eleanor Powell in Born to Dance (1936), Lady Be Good (1941), and Ship Ahoy (1942). Robert Young also stars in The Canterville Ghost (1944), The Enchanted Cottage (1945), and Crossfire (1947).

You can find Honolulu and several other Eleanor Powell movies currently streaming on Warner Archive Instant.

Classic Films in Focus: WEE WILLIE WINKIE (1937)

John Ford, best known as the director of masterful Westerns like Stagecoach (1939) and The Searchers (1956), seems an odd choice for a Shirley Temple feature, but the story that actually unfolds in Wee Willie Winkie (1937) plays on many of Ford's favorite themes. Darker and more mature than most of Temple's childhood movies, Wee Willie Winkie might not appeal to youngsters as much as some of her other films, but it makes worthwhile viewing for adult fans of either the director or the star.

Priscilla Williams (Temple) and her widowed mother, Joyce (June Lang), arrive in colonial India to live with Priscilla's grandfather, Colonel Williams (C. Aubrey Smith). Priscilla, nicknamed Private Winkie by the soldiers, befriends both the burly Sergeant MacDuff (Victor McLaglen) and the captured rebel leader, Khoda Khan (Cesar Romero), while her mother falls for a handsome lieutenant (Michael Whalen). A treacherous spy, however, helps Khoda Khan escape and puts Priscilla in the middle of a deadly confrontation between the British soldiers and the rebel troops.

The film's most important relationship is that developed between Priscilla and MacDuff, who proves far more paternal than any of the other men in the little girl's life. McLaglen gives his character tremendous appeal, and his death part way through the film highlights the adult nature of the story. If your children aren't ready for Bambi (1942), then they aren't ready for Wee Willie Winkie, either. Most Temple films build on a tragic backstory that is already in the heroine's past, but these offscreen events generally pass over the heads of young viewers without much observation. With the death of MacDuff, Ford brings the child protagonist's experience of loss right into the foreground, and, while it works beautifully, it left my resident junior film fan so traumatized that she almost refused to watch the rest of the picture.

The secondary plots fall short of this emotional power. The budding romance between Priscilla's mother and the lieutenant lacks heart, partly because Michael Whalen is awfully dull. It doesn't help that charismatic Cesar Romero is there as an unrealized alternative; a story in which Joyce fell in love with him might have been really interesting. Chinese actor Willie Fung makes an especially ridiculous and unpalatable traitor; he had appeared with Temple in Stowaway (1936), but nobody is going to believe he's Indian for a second, and his character seems to be something of a lunatic to boot.

John Ford directed Temple again in the 1948 film, Fort Apache, which makes a good follow-up to Wee Willie Winkie and also features Victor McLaglen. If colonial India proves appealing, see Gunga Din (1939), which also stars McLaglen as a British soldier, this time in company with Cary Grant and Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. You'll find Cesar Romero playing another Indian character in Temple's signature film, The Little Princess (1939). For more of Temple's most compelling early work, see Bright Eyes (1934), Captain January (1936), and Heidi (1937).

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