Anybody's Woman.

Review #2362: Anybody's Woman.

Cast: 

Ruth Chatterton (Pansy Gray), Clive Brook (Neil Dunlap), Paul Lukas (Gustave Saxon), Huntley Gordon (Grant Crosby), Virginia Hammond (Katherine Malcolm), Tom Patricola (Eddie Calcio), Juliette Compton (Ellen), and Cecil Cunningham (Dot) Directed by Dorothy Arzner (#1648 - Sarah and Son, #1810 - Working Girls, #1992 - The Wild Party, #2187 - Christopher Strong)

Review: 

Well, there are quite a few movies about drunken marriages, so it isn't too surprising to see it here with Dorothy Arzner's 7th credited feature film as a director. The movie is based on the short story "The Better Wife" that had been written by Gouverneur Morris (evidently, the movie was going to be released under that title but went with the other title instead); Zoe Akins and Doris Anderson wrote the screenplay adaptation. Admittedly, Chatterton probably has slipped under the radar as an actress. But hey, she had a busy life beyond the acting life, which apparently began when her friends challenged her to become a stage actress when she criticized the acting when seeing a play in Washington. After a decade-and-a-half of stage work (including Broadway), she scored a contract with Paramount in 1928. Her work in Madame X (1929) and Sarah and Son (1930, as directed by Arzner) got her Academy Award nominations. She stopped acting in films by 1938 at the age of 45, although she would appear from time to time in stage and later in television. She even wrote a handful of novels in the 1950s and did I mention the part where she was an aviator that flew solo across the States a few times? While this movie isn't particularly noted among audiences of the time, one can at least be satisfied with its restoration in recent times by the UCLA Film & Television Archive. This was the third film Arzner had released in 1930, having been involved (alongside ten other directors) in the all-star revue Paramount on Parade (1930), which was released in April of 1930 (the aforementioned Sarah film had come out first in March), with this movie coming out in August; Colbert (who also had been featured in the Parade film) returned to star in the next Arzner movie alongside Fredric March with Honor Among Lovers (1931).

To say that the film is fine is not a particularly hard thing to say. Its 80-minute runtime is pretty routine when it comes to, well a 95-year-old movie that comes and goes in the scenario and executing it. Some of that is more successful than other times, particularly since this is the kind of movie where it wraps up in a "tidy bow" in the last few minutes that you either will accept or just sigh down the road as you wonder what sounds best to watch next.* For Arzner, it is about as competent and involving as one already has seen in her earlier films in trying to depict the general challenge that comes with being a woman where everybody has some sort of opinion of "who they are to somebody". Sure, the outsider view is taken with the eventual realization that one does in fact need someone, particularly someone who at least looks like they understand who they are on the outside beyond just being a clinging post in the dark of night. In that sense, Chatterton does relatively fine in maneuvering the waters of perception and actual action that is snappy enough to elicit enough charm to at least give the movie the fighting chance it needs. Sure, Brook is not given too much to really do besides being the soused up one of the "odd couple", but he plays it with dogged interest to at least seem like he isn't totally on autopilot. Lukas was the dependable supporting presence that you could find for a variety of movies (big or small) in his time, so he plays the "man with foreign-sounding name" with serviceable commitment to at least make a capable triangle seem plausible. As a whole, the movie presents a capable woman trying to make the best of things of a life that has to adjust the upheaval in routines that is more than just being an anybody but instead being a somebody, one who can live within places rather than apart from it all. It might not be a great "Pre-Code" movie, but it might just prove worthwhile enough for those interested in a decent time with Arzner at the helm.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

*Sorry for the delay. On occasion, I find inspiration for a review is split over the course of several days because I somehow get distracted in the most absurd of ways, which either involves rest or searching up old sports stuff. I recently managed to score a free trial of a newspaper archive and on a lark looked up box-scores of the 1968 ABA Playoffs for fun. You would be surprised what gets covered and doesn't find its way into telling a sports story.

Free and Easy (1930).

Review #2219: Free and Easy.

Cast: 

Buster Keaton (Elmer), Anita Page (Elvira), Trixie Friganza (Ma Plunkett), Robert Montgomery (Larry Mitchell), and Lionel Barrymore (director) Directed by Edward Sedgwick (#774 - The Phantom of the Opera, #1774 - The Cameraman, #1937 - Spite Marriage)

Review: 

At last, it was time to hear the words of Buster Keaton in a film. This was the third feature film with Keaton at the hands of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, which came after The Cameraman (1928) and Spite Marriage (1929). Followers of Keaton already know that his MGM tenure was the one he regretted the most, but at least those two films were actually liked by people even when it came to studio-maintained mayhem. With this film, one would get the weirdest of the two worlds: a movie where Keaton gets to talk and also gets to be in the foreground in favor of featuring cameo appearances from performers such as Willy Haynes, Jackie Coogan, Lionel Barrymore and, well, also Cecil B. DeMille and Fred Niblo. The film was shot in several languages such as Spanish (the latter was called Estrellados, which had Keaton play opposite a different lead actress) and French (mainly with intertitles, but still). There are three credited writers: Richard Schayer (a career guy behind co-work such as The Mummy) wrote the "scenario", while Paul Dickey did the "adaptation", and Al Boasberg (one of the co-writers of The General) was behind the dialogue. Made for roughly $500,000, the film was enough of a hit with audiences that Keaton would continue to do a few more films with MGM, such as his next sound feature with Doughboys (1930) and five further films until 1934.

Poor, poor, poor Keaton. There have been so many good Keaton movies in the previous decade that it becomes apparent not long into this one that he has become a puppet for mediocre setups. Sure, his accent when it comes to voicework is pretty earthy on the ears and he does have some interesting moments when it comes to antics within the backlot. But the romantic triangle is flabby and pathetic, and the overall execution is 92 painfully average minutes that cannot measure even with one of his weaker silent efforts such as say, The Saphead (1920). It is plain and all-around just not interesting to watch a movie dilly-dally on a set when you've seen better days for Keaton in mayhem. You've seen better movies when it comes to "inside a studio" in films such as Show People (1928), which incidentally was also an MGM film. The funny thing about Page was fresh off The Broadway Melody (1929), the original all-talking MGM musical (mediocre as hell to folks like me, but it was a really big thing back then). Her and Montgomery have about as much energy together as a sound test. Probably the one highlight is Keaton getting to audition as an actor and doing such things like bumbling a line about swooning queens. He may be playing a silly boob, but at least he at least is physical enough and committed enough to even try his hand at singing. God help us the film is one of those that thinks it is amusing to have a conversation where characters think they are talking about the same thing but actually are not. I don't even feel like thinking about the downbeat ending, because, well, it seems fitting to give an ending where our hero gets the shaft in a non-memorable movie. In the long run, going from any random silent Keaton feature to this film is practically like night and day. It is a movie that probably would've been better if done a few years earlier because, well, Keaton would've had the time and energy to really make it a worthwhile effort. Instead, it is just not worth the effort to call it a lame movie.

Overall, I give it 5 out of 10 stars.

A Lady to Love.

Review #2054: A Lady to Love.

Cast: 

Vilma Bánky (Lena Shultz), Edward G. Robinson (Tony), Robert Ames (Buck), Richard Carle (Postman), Lloyd Ingraham (Father McKee), Anderson Lawler (Doctor), Gum Chin (Ab Gee), Henry Armetta (Angelo), and George Davis (Giorgio) Produced and Directed by Victor Sjöström (#1327 - The Wind, #1731 - The Phantom Carriage, and #1771 - He Who Gets Slapped)

Review: 

Well, the foundation is tempting for this Pre-Code film. It is based on the 1924 play They Knew What They Wanted by Sidney Howard. The play won him a Pulitzer Prize for Drama that year while the production ran on Broadway for nearly 200 performances that featured Richard Bennett, Pauline Lord, and Glenn Anders as the key stars. There has been various restaging of the play since, at least when one isn't busy trying to stage The Most Happy Fella, a musical first done in 1956 based on the Howard play. There are two other film adaptations of the play with The Secret Hour (1928) and They Knew What They Wanted (1940). Die Sehnsucht Jeder Frau, a German-language version of this film, was produced and directed by Sjöström with Robinson and Banky retained. This was the penultimate film appearance for its star in Banky, but The Rebel (1933) is obscure enough to not even have its own Wikipedia page, so keep that in mind when talking about Banky and her varying surviving films (which is just a bit over a half dozen, and her one previous effort in sound were sequences in This Is Heaven, which has yet to be found). As for Robinson, this was his third major appearance in a film after The Hole in the Wall (1929) and Outside the Law (1930). Lastly, let us talk about Victor Sjöström. This was the first sound film for the director, who you might already recognize from his silent classics such as The Phantom Carriage (1921) and The Wind (1928). He would go on to direct two further films: Father and Son (1930) and Under the Red Robe (1937) before he retired to back to his native Sweden to act within the theater again.

You may be a bit confused when it comes to this film on the idea that a director like Sjöström could be constrained so hard with the standards that come with making a sound film. Banky apparently left film not because of anything to do with her Hungarian accent but instead to focus on spending time with her new husband, whom she married a couple of years prior. I can only imagine that the result of this film probably did not help matters, and this isn't to say she has a bad time here (the accent is obviously fit for films). It just so happens that in a film with two actors playing folks with distinct roots (one Italian), Robinson chews the scenery away from everything. There is probably supposed to be some sort of tragedy within her being trapped within this triangle of affection, but maybe it actually fit better when packed for a stage rather than what is presented here, because it just seems hollow. Robinson can only carry so far when playing to the seats with whatever is meant to play in this blustery act that is spent two-ways: before and after he is put in bedrest (yes not only is it a film about a woman discovering her soon-to-be husband looks different from the picture, but she also first sees him after he suffers an injury where he broke both legs). Ames (who died the following year from "delirium tremens" at the age of 42) happens to be in the middle as the "American" in the middle of this certain triangle, but he might as well be playing a block of wood with his lack of drawing power, no matter how much they try to make the eventual wooing of Banky seem inevitable. By the time the actual resolution happens, one can only throw up their hands. The attempt at cultivating a romance that starts with deception (heh, let's get a mail-order bride by showing my handsome buddy) only results a long and winding road of middling meandering. The fact that the film seems bound to stay firmly in the same place you usually see things only results in a very drawn out 92-minute runtime. Asking oneself "how does one go from The Wind to this?" is not a promising statement when trying to assess the quality of a very average movie, and yet here we are. As a whole, since this is a movie you can only find online rather than home video, the best way to enjoy it is for those who like to seek out these kinds of things and hopefully enjoy what they see, because I can't call it anything other than just a bit too average. It has a future star and a future retired star to go with a director who had seen better days, so take that for what it is worth.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

The Blue Angel.

Review #2001: The Blue Angel.

Cast: 

Emil Jannings (Professor Immanuel Rath), Marlene Dietrich (Lola Lola), Kurt Gerron (Kiepert, the magician), Rosa Valetti (Guste, the magician's wife), Hans Albers (Mazeppa, the strongman), Reinhold Bernt (The clown), Eduard von Winterstein (The director of school), Hans Roth (The caretaker of the secondary school), Rolf Müller (Pupil Angst), Roland Varno (Pupil Lohmann), and Carl Balhaus (Pupil Ertzum) Directed by Josef von Sternberg (#1325 - Underworld, #1337 - Shanghai Express, #1837 - Thunderbolt)

Review: 

So, how does one follow up their first sound film with a further quality one? Josef von Sternberg, fresh from the success of Thunderbolt (1929), was summoned by Universum Film A.G (usually referred to as UFA) for a project that would see Emil Jannings in his first sound production. He had been born in Switzerland to American and German parents, but he was raised in Germany. He eventually gained success in both Germany and America, and he was the first actor to win the Academy Award for Best Actor. Jannings collaborated with Sternberg previously with The Last Command (1928). However, it would be more of a boon for the little-known actress cast against Jannings that proved more important. Berlin native Marlene Dietrich had made her first appearance on film in 1923 to go alongside stage work in musicals and revues. She auditioned for the role along with several others (such as Lucie Mannheim) and proceeded to win the audition and then basically steal the show from Jannings with this film, the first of seven she would do with Sternberg, whose infatuation with her led to divorce from his wife. Jannings had returned to Germany after 1929 saw his thick accent go out of vogue with the sound era; while he continued to do films for years, this is probably his last memorable one before the Nazi era. In later years, labeled an "artist of the state", he starred in several moves intended to promote the cause of Nazi Germany (ironically, Dietrich was a key activist against Nazism and later called Jannings a "ham"). Jannings tried to defend his decisions by saying that “Open resistance would have meant a concentration camp” (incidentally, his co-star in Gerron and his director in Sternberg were both Jewish, and Gerron was murdered in a concentration camp when the Nazis occupied the Netherlands). The Blue Angel was the tenth film directed by Sternberg, and it is loosely based off the 1905 novel Professor Unrat, oder Das Ende eines Tyrannen (in German, "Unrat" means garbage) by Heinrich Mann, with the movie diverting in the second half of the book (which mainly means the movie is more downbeat); Carl Zuckmayer, Karl Vollmoller, Robert Liebmann, and Sternberg. The novel has been adapted multiple times, one of them being a 1959 adaptation for 20th Century Fox by Edward Dmytryk that saw Sternberg sue because he claimed to have the remake rights. An Indian movie was made with V. Shantaram's Pinjara (1972) and then again with Rainer Werner Fassbinder's Lola (1981).

There exist two versions of the movie, hewing to the tradition that happened with certain films of the time that saw actors doing the same movie in multiple languages (the easiest example being the 1931 Dracula, but that one had different directors and cast). You could check out the English version (only just discovered years ago) if you really need to see German-born actors like the main trio say lines they already say in German in English that is shorter than the 108-minute runtime of this film. Regardless, what you have here is a wonderous descent into madness in obsessive desire. It really is a point of irony that Jannings was eclipsed by Dietrich when it comes to mainstream attention, because he really does pull off an interesting performance when it comes to the art of watching a man crumble right before your eyes. It isn't a pry for sympathy or just time spent watching for the great fall, finding a careful balance of man against the enigmatic qualities of the woman that finds him bound and basically gagged. And then of course there is Dietrich, practically brimming like a flame bright enough to attract all the moths. Her cabaret act (one signified by her singing of "Falling in Love Again" [Ich bin von Kopf bis Fuß auf Liebe eingestellt]) is certainly one to help introduce a great presence to the screen in ideal quality when it comes to pointing out the hypocrisies that come with the loss of power for the illusion of love. One loses themselves in the pursuit of what they think is love, and she plays the kind of person you would see yourself losing your head (and more) for. She transfixes you by simply being there as an object of great presence and timing. Gerron makes for a useful showman in huckster confidence that could only be done by someone with worthy interesting in humor without overselling it. The film builds and builds itself to the culmination of all that ever can be and all that could ever be when it comes to taking grand steps to the path of supposed happiness and seeing what happens when the step comes with a great price, where trading power for desire sees everything turn to dust. The scenes of a man once at the helm of a desk with great power now reduced to languishing to being the second in a romantic partnership is communicated with worthy pictorial power by Sternberg. He captures the essence of obsession with a pretty good experience that one should consider watching for themselves to see what the fuss is all about with the movie that started it all with Dietrich and Sternberg.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Liliom (1930).

Review #1941: Liliom (1930).

Cast: 

Charles Farrell (Liliom), Rose Hobart (Julie), Estelle Taylor (Madame Muscat), H. B. Warner (Chief Magistrate), Lee Tracy (The Buzzard), Walter Abel (Carpenter), Mildred Van Dorn (Marie), Guinn "Big Boy" Williams (Hollinger), Lillian Elliott (Aunt Hulda), Anne Shirley (Louise), and Bert Roach (Wolf) Directed by Frank Borzage (#1611 - A Farewell to Arms and #1863 - History Is Made at Night)

Review: 

The movie is an adaptation of the 1909 play of the same name by Ferenc Molnár. The original play actually didn't become a success until the English translation happened on Broadway in 1921, which was followed by a number of a revivals before a musical adaptation was created by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II with Carousel in 1945, which also had its own film adaptation released in 1956. The original play is the one with the sadder ending, let's just get that out of the way. S. N. Behrman and Sonya Levien served as the screenwriters for the movie adaptation, which was the second released adaptation, with the first being A Trip to Paradise (1921). The next adaptation was not too far off, being released in 1934 as a French production by Fritz Lang. Both the 1930 and 1934 versions were distributed by Fox Film Corporation. Since this was a movie released before the Film Code, you get to see the lead characters have a child out of wedlock. At the helm was Frank Borzage, who had joined the sound revolution in features such as Song o' My Heart (1930) that made him quite a prolific presence in romances with distinct visual sense at his peak. Like the original play, it is set in Budapest.

It is an odd little movie, packed with odd imagery within its artificiality, complete with shadows and a romance between two people who can't articulate their emotional feelings for each other beyond a spiritual connection. A grouping of two insecure people probably didn't seem like the kind of film to be an audience hit (and not with anyone who has opinions to say about how the film handles the afterlife, particularly in those days), and it was the kind of movie that for years wasn't even on DVD. But one can now experience a film with a climax that delves a bit into fairytale expressionism before having a few "interesting" words to say about hitting people and the nature of love. It does this despite being more of a film for Hobart and her wonderous eyes that you see shot by Chester A. Lyons. This was one of the first sound movies for Farrell, who you might recognize for his starring roles in silent romances such as 7th Heaven (1927) or City Girl (1930). The high pitch voice was apparently a surprise to some when it came to release, but I'm alright with the withering confidence meant to come out in this odd role that could have been just pathetic for a lesser presence. Hobart was making her feature movie debut, having come in from the theater to the shock of probably no one. The two actors enunciate their lines the way you would expect from a film made in the first few years of sound movies, which means one is watching a pretty stagy movie. Their romance is shaky, but you at least get why they would find themselves in this situation without trying to leave the other in the gutter, complete with their last scene together. It all rests on how the material sits with you once it reaches the train (via rear projection, which was quite new at the time, used by Fox in this and Just Imagine) bringing someone to talk about why they need one more moment among the living. If you can get through that, then it falls down to the climax to hold it all together for one fateful decision that will either strike one as somehow fitting the material well or off-putting. The two characters have about as much chance at moving forward without each other as a carousel has a chance of rotating in a non-circular path, and I guess it means that one really does have to put enough into love when the other partner isn't quite up to putting all the work to match them. As a whole, it definitely isn't the best effort for Borzage when it comes to his prior work, but it is at least a dour curiosity worth a watch for those who want to see a deliberately paced romance go through with a few visual interests for 94 minutes. It makes a suitable bittersweet tale. Laborious for some, but curious for others who choose to seek it out is probably the best way to describe the whole affair.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

City Girl (1930).

Review #1885: City Girl.

Cast: 

Charles Farrell (Lem Tustine), Mary Duncan (Kate), David Torrence (Mr Tustine), Edith Yorke (Mrs Tustine), Anne Shirley (Marie Tustine), Tom McGuire (Matey), Richard Alexander (Mac), and Roscoe Ates (Reaper) Directed by F. W. Murnau (#256 - Nosferatu, #499 - Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans, #1335 - Tabu: A Story of the South Seas)

Review: 

Admittedly, covering certain directors takes a bit of leeway when it comes to the realm of the silent era, particularly with F. W. Murnau. Of the 21 feature films made by the German director, only twelve of them survive in its entirety, with this being one of the lucky ones while being the last of the three Fox Film productions he did. Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927) is obviously the most famous as a statement in visual interest (it had a synchronized musical score and sound effects soundtrack. His next feature, 4 Devils (1928), is now considered lost. At any rate, Murnau shot the movie in Athena and Pendleton, Oregon, and it probably makes considerable sense to someone who actually did once purchase a farm of his own. The working title of the feature was "Our Daily Bread", which ended up being used for select distribution in European countries (besides, in 1934, King Vidor would use the title for his own film). The movie is an adaptation of Elliott Lester's play The Mud Turtle, which had run for a number of performances in 1925 (as such it was adapted to the screen in scenario by Marion Orth and Berthold Viertel while H.H. Caldwell and Katherine Hilliker did the titles). There were two versions of the film: a part-sound version that had music and re-shot parts when Murnau refused to cater to Fox's demands and the silent version. The sound version is lost, but the silent version has been restored from its initial re-discovery in the 1970s (as a survivor of the vaults unlike a number of Fox Film features, which includes Sunrise's original 35mm negative). Incidentally, this film would serve as an inspiration for Terence Malick's Days of Heaven (1978).

It may not be as memorable in its striking visual power as say, Sunrise, but it still makes for quite a feature to enjoy. In a way, it is a distinct telling of that film when it comes to the clash of people from the small towns and someone from the city that could lead to consequences. Now, instead of the lakeside, one reaches the wheatfields of Minnesota. It is like a companion film without becoming a shell. The lesson one does learn within a romance filled with sweet people like this is that you can leave the city but still find weird things in the countryside. Idyllic life isn't something you just find on a farm or the city because it happens to look like it can be, as people of all personalities can be found wherever you lurk, where one hopes to find honest people for meaningful understanding. There is more to life than making movement and relying on habits and prejudices, you might say. The character may seem simple and easily defined, but one just has to find the little layers within that makes useful ambiguity. One never knows what would have happened if Murnau had not died in 1931 when it comes to filmmaking, but I can imagine that he clearly valued the art of silent filmmaking more than just doing a film with sound for the sake of it. You can show a city diner without needing the sound to make it seem alive when it comes to showing how Farrell and Duncan make a quick quality pair. As pawns in the game of life that isn't easy or fair for singles or couples, they grow on you pretty well. It's not a movie built for cute moments of course, since Torrence serves as the grumpy counter to idealism while Alexander makes a quality cad. 

Inevitably, the ending isn't quite what you would hope would occur from a film like this. It seems just a bit too sudden and convenient for what has to be seen and not see in the resolution of the triangle conflict. Of course, who really knows if the final shot of two people crossing the threshold of being again in the farms will work the way you think: understanding people is one thing, living with them day after day is another. Murnau is hopeful but not preachy about what he thinks to say about the illusions that come with rural and city life. As an 89-minute feature, it is paced with delicate efficiency that arrived perhaps a bit too late to make the mark it should have deserved among the silents. At any rate, Murnau's penultimate feature is a pretty good one that can be watched among his other surviving works with general interest. 

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

L'Age d'Or

Review #1884: L'Age d'Or.

Cast: 

Gaston Modot (The Man), Lya Lys (Young Girl), Caridad de Laberdesque (Chambermaid and Little Girl), Max Ernst (Leader of men in cottage), Josep Llorens Artigas (Governor), Lionel Salem (Duke of Blangis), Germaine Noizet (Marquise), Duchange (Conductor), and Valentine Penrose (Spirit) Directed by Luis Buñuel (#1383 - Él and #1723 - Los Olvidados)

Review: 

I'm sure you are familiar with Un Chien Andalou (1929), the debut of Luis Bunuel to cinema in a collaboration with Salvador Dali. It was a short movie, lasting under thirty minutes that has endured in its imagery. They had met at the University of Madrid in 1917 while Bunuel was studying philosophy. They had a friendship filled with contentious arguments and creativity, which sprinkled heavily onto filmmaking. The earlier film for example, featured a scene of ants swarming around hands and a sliced eye because each had dreamt it, so as a film of surrealist principles without aiming for rational explanation, this makes considerable sense. One year later, Bunuel would have his feature debut with this film (translates to The Golden Age), albeit one that is just 63 minutes that is presented with title cards to tell elements of the story despite having sound (with French dialogue present). The film had attracted attention that led to a commissioned new project from the de Noailles family (Charles and Marie-Laurie). They owned a private cinema and would end up helping to fund other filmmakers with certain interests such as Man Ray. Bunuel would also serve as editor and co-writer of the music with Georges van Parys; every bit of footage shot by Bunuel made it into the film, which he shot sequentially. The resulting film (which grew from an idea of a short to a feature) damaged a friendship, led to a French far-right group throwing ink on the screen, and a critic calling the film one that dragged "country, family, and religion" into the mud. While there would be private exhibitions in subsequent years, distribution and public exhibition of the feature would not happen again until the late 1970s, since the de Noailles family withdrew it in light of the condemnations.

Dali and Bunuel had a falling out due to growing ideological disagreements - Dali later stated he was always an "anarchist and monarchist" while once angering Bunuel when he called him a "Communist and an atheist" in a book when Bunuel was in America. But hey, each became noted names in certain fields of film and art, things happen. Describing what happens in various moments seems redundant, but let's give it a try: scorpions, people sucking on fingers, an end sequence called "120 days of depraved acts" (referring to a famous work) that features someone with a long beard and white robe that resembles a certain figure, people writhing in the mud, people on fire that no one pays attention to, a blind man getting knocked over...you get the idea, I think. Of the noted five names in the cast, Modot and Lys were the only professional actors, while Penrose was a poet/author, Ernst was a painter/poet, and Artigas was a ceramic artist. The folks in the film generally work well with the flow of images because one doesn't need to say too much to portray hypocrisy and frustration. The film moves like a scorpion with frenzied movements in its vignettes before reaching the end with clear-tipped poison that will strike whoever dares to go in without a clear mind. It strikes the bourgeois hypocrisies that Bunuel saw in his times that still seem apparent now that can really be construed to one sentence: screw the rules. I welcome the boldness to yearn to engage in that primal desire to consummate without the thoughts of the church or society-at-large to act as a supposed moral guardian. Hypocrisy is in the eye of the beholder, whether one is horny or really, really hates the insanities of modern life. I think it works out pretty well in general interest, one with striking power after many decades without becoming an insult to one's patience. It provokes and examines things without preaching to you, and it is mostly effective in its pacing and presentation of imagery. Bunuel made one further film in the decade with the ethnofiction work Land Without Bread [Las Hurdes: Tierra Sin Pan] before his hiatus, but the best was still to come for him. The fact that one could find this film on the Internet (along with the earlier short) means one could have an interesting time if one is looking for something in the realm of the surreal.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Sarah and Son.

Review #1648: Sarah and Son.

Cast: 

Ruth Chatterton (Sarah Storm), Fredric March (Howard Vanning), Fuller Mellish Jr (Jim Grey), Gilbert Emery (John Ashmore), Doris Lloyd (Mrs. Ashmore), William Stack (Cyril Belloc), and Philippe De Lacy (Bobby) Directed by Dorothy Arzner.

Review: 

"When I went to work in a studio, I took my pride and made a nice little ball of it and threw it right out the window."

When it comes to the history of women in cinema, one name that should come up in consideration is Dorothy Arzner. There were a selection of female directors  in the first years of the 20th century, although the pioneer in the field was Alice Guy-Blaché, who produced and directed for Gaumont Film Company beginning in 1896 for France. She would later take credit for giving a start to another pioneer with Lois Weber, who would direct and write her own films in the advent of the silent era. The shift to sound alongside the consequences of further focus on commercial interests led to less opportunities for women filmmakers, but one director that found a place within the silent and sound eras was Dorothy Arzner. The California native grew up around the times of actors because her father owned a restaurant near a theatre that would attract various actors to dine. She initially wanted to become a doctor, having studied at the University of Southern California. However, she would shift her interests upon spending a few months with a surgeon's office. The passing of World War I alongside a flu epidemic meant that folks were needed for work, and Arnzer found her chance with Famous Players-Lasky Corporation (now known as Paramount Pictures) and William DeMille. Seeing the units of the studio work led to inspiration, as seeing the unit of Cecil DeMille in directing interested her with his drive of telling folks what to do on set. She would start as a typist before moving to script writing and eventually editing (in a span of six months); she would edit by her estimate 52 films in such a short time that ranged from Blood and Sand (1922) to The Covered Wagon (1923) while observing a variety of directors that ranged from James Cruze to Fred Niblo. In 1927, she was planning to leave for Columbia Pictures to write/direct, but a chance encounter with Walter Wanger (a production head in New York that she encountered upon wanting to say goodbye to anyone before leaving). She would get her chance to direct with Fashions for Women (starring star of the time Esther Ralston), which proved to be a wise choice. She would become noted for directing famed silent actress Clara Bow to her first talkie with The Wild Party (1929), with her idea to create a flexible microphone to help a nervous Bow (essentially creating one of the first boom mics). Among the early films of Arzner, it is the only one of her first five to survive intact. Sarah and Son (1930) is her sixth of eighteen overall films she would direct, with her films at Paramount generally having little interference before she shifted to freelance work by 1933. In that decade, there were only three women who directed a film: Dorothy Davenport, Wanda Tuchock, and Arzner. Her career would last for two decades, marching to the 1940s with First Comes Courage (1943). She would retire after the release of the film (owing to a bout of pneumonia that weakened her right before production ended), although she would work with a variety of professions relating to acting such as the Women's Army Corps with wartime training films, the Pasadena Playhouse, and teaching at the UCLA Film School.

Although her films languished in obscurity for years, there certainly is time still to look upon her perspective of filmmaking. This would be one of the first films that starred Ruth Chatterton, who was known for her stage work at the time (along with, I kid you not, side work as aviator), with successes like this film soon leading to a nickname of "The First Lady of the Screen." (Madame X (1929) and this film would each garner Academy Award nominations) and this was also the second of four films that Arnzer would direct Fredric March (this was the year before his first big role with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde). The film is an adaptation of the novel of the same name by Timothy Shea, with playwright Zoe Akins writing the adaptation. It is the classic melodrama for 86 minutes, involving lost kids, weird spouses, and dangerous peril leading to dramatic last shots. In other words, it's a decent little movie that obviously works on just how much one rolls with the punches of its story in keeping their eyes open. We are talking about a movie that has someone try to fool a mother with a deaf mute kid as their actual son, after all. It's an okay time, since 86 minutes isn't too long to see through to its inevitability and its one key performance. Chatterton does quite well in her range to carry the film within its two segments (1915/1918 and 1928) with patience and interest for playing to dramatic flair without hamming it up for a role requiring some banter and singing. March follows along with some fair charm, playing second fiddle within an okay romance that can only go so far (i.e. finding the child seems more important to think about). This was the third and last role for Mellish Jr, who died a month before release of a hemorrhage at the age of 32. The performance is okay, subdued in those moments spent in the first half that comes and goes quickly. Emery and Lloyd serve as the foils with varying results of middling okay quality. No one is overacting or struggling too much with speaking to the microphone. There are moments here and there that work fine, such as the reunion between mother and son that override sillier moments (the entire segment involving a family believing someone is nuts for thinking their son is totally not adopted) that makes a passable effort. The world didn't really need a dozen of films like this one, but it doesn't hurt to see the perspective of Arzner when it comes to useful melodrama from a time long ago - take it or leave it.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

I will admit that I wanted to take some time off, so taking eight days off seemed like a good time to take (I also had to/still am dealing with Blu-Ray player issues). Admittedly, one themed month is usually not enough. March happens to be Women's History Month (and today incidentally is International Women's Day), so the time has come for a trove of films with female directors. Guesses can be made about what is to come, but there certainly will be at least ten films to cover over the month, which I hope will be a good one in terms of varying perspectives.

Next Time: Mädchen in Uniform (1931).

Feet First.

Review #1621: Feet First. 

Cast:
Harold Lloyd (Harold Horne), Barbara Kent (Barbara), Robert McWade (John Quincy Tanner), Lillian Leighton (Mrs. Tanner), Henry Hall (Endicott), Noah Young (Sailor), Alec B. Francis (Mr. Carson), Arthur Housman (Drunken Clubman), and Willie Best (Janitor) Directed by Clyde Bruckman (#908 - The General and #1304 - Welcome Danger)

Review:
What is there to say that has not been said about Harold Lloyd? There were numerous stars and icons of the early years of cinema, which ranged from shorts to feature-length, and Lloyd was a pillar of both in a career that spanned three decades. He was as distinct in his persona as other icons of the era like Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin with his thrill sequences and notable stunts (with a share done by Lloyd, but not all of them contrary to perception, with crewmen like Robert A. Golden doing stunts) that resulted in a fair share of triumph for silent and sound films, and it is his attention to archiving his work that means one can readily enjoy most of his short films and all of his features without trouble (incidentally, Lloyd had complied gags from films such as this one for Harold Lloyd's World of Comedy in 1962, although he edited the film to remove dated material). How one enjoys their comedic presence of yesteryear is up to debate, but Lloyd was surely consistent enough in his silent output of eleven features, with the three big highlights being Grandma's Boy (1922), Safety Last! (1923), and The Freshman (1925). Not to be forgotten in this film is director Bruckman, because he certainly left as big of an imprint on comedy as Lloyd. He worked with a variety of comic legends in regards to gags and direction/writing. He started his young years as a sports writer before moving to further writing ventures and then film in intertitle writing in 1919. He moved on to a chance to assist with writing gags for Buster Keaton (it was Bruckman that found a book about a locomative chase in the Civil War that led to one of Keaton's best features with The General). Work with others soon followed, such as directing Laurel & Hardy with The Battle of the Century (1927, short subject), or work with Monty Banks (A Perfect Gentleman, 1928) and eventual work with comedians like W. C. Fields and The Three Stooges. Of course, this was the second collaboration between Lloyd and Bruckman, with their first talking feature not exactly being a winner. In fact, Welcome Danger (1929) was actually pretty dull, a hodgepodge that exists in sound and silent versions that played too loose with itself in landing anything more than pale in nearly two hours of film.

So, if there was a problem with too many cooks in the writing room and pacing before, does this film solve those quandries? Sort of, since it runs at 93 minutes, but there were six (!) credited writers this time around: John Grey, Alfred A. Cohn, and Bruckman contributed the story, while Felix Adler & Lex Neal did the scenario and Paul Gerard Smith did the dialogue. Lloyd played the bespectacled "Glasses" kid to a T for years and years, where he usually had to prove something (whether for a girl or for courage), so here we are in what seems to be a case of trying to drain from the well for what seems like the seventh time in a decade (after all, those Lloyd masterpieces all followed the same pattern), with varying results. It can best be described with a famous line used involving change: The more things change, the more they stay the same. What we have is a comedy of dueling masquerades, since Lloyd is doing his "Glasses" schtick to try and make an impression of the shoe place he works at in terms of personality while thinking that the lady he is wooing is the daughter of his boss, which leads to stints spent with high society, a sequence with a fussy parent, a boat, and a skyscraper. It is a fairly episodic film that naturally decides to spend nearly half of its time with the ocean liner (with gags that range from trying to hide papers with his face on it to running away in a mailbag as it goes off the boat) that goes on for over thirty minutes. Interestingly, the film then goes to a trip up (and down) a building in a series of gags that seem reminiscent of Safety Last! in his hanging(s) - the aspects with Best is the most dated part of the film, adhering to stereotypes that were omitted on re-release for TV and the ensuing compilation. Best was one of the first well known African American actors/comedians, although he generally was used to play roles considered demeaning - this was his first credited role (although he is credited under the horrid nicknname "Sleep 'n' Eat") in a career of two decades. The sequence is tedious enough, playing on making Best play a clownish janitor role that is referred to as a word relating to his skin is worse. The skyscraper sequence was shot the same way as with that film, in which there was construction done to put parts of the facade of a building (in this case a gas building in Los Angeles) onto a rooftop where a camera tower would be adjacent (stark in contrast to resorting to tricks like rear projection, although that is used for one momentary shot in the end). This sequence of dangling off the building goes on for near twenty minutes, and we are talking about a movie that only goes on for basically a minute after it stops yo-yoing off the building just to wrap things up abruptly and set up one more joke. Simply put, putting sound to a scene of someone trying to not fall down a building is too lengthy to really contemplate. Lost in all this is the acting, because it basically seems like a lamp post waiting to be tripped over for some mild gags, for which Lloyd is yet again the only notable one to stick out. Thing is, he was 37 when this came out, and there are only so many times one can be a square before it becomes a flat-footed mess. This was the second of two films for Kent with Lloyd, and she was the last leading lady to star in multiple films with Lloyd, and she certainly gives off nothing of interest in terms of romance or amusement with Lloyd, where one might as well be watching two broomsticks try not to bump into the other. McWade and Leighton are there in small notes that one hopes for time to serve as a foil, and yet here we are. As a whole, the episodes of gags should work better than they do, but average Lloyd might be well enough if one wants to see the progression of Lloyd continue yet again with a sound product that would fit best when there are no less average ideas available or for a completionist. 

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Just Imagine.

Review #1334: Just Imagine.

Cast: 
El Brendel (Single O), Maureen O'Sullivan (LN-18), John Garrick (J-21), Marjorie White (D-6), Frank Albertson (RT-42), Hobart Bosworth (Z-4), Kenneth Thomson (MT-3), Mischa Auer (B-36), Ivan Linow (Loko/Boko), Joyzelle Joyner (Loo Loo and Boo Boo), and Wilfred Lucas (X-10) Directed by David Butler. 

Review: 

Sometimes you need to look to the future to find something to escape with. What better way to do so than a science fiction musical comedy? The writing work of this film comes from Buddy G. DeSylva, Lew Brown, and Ray Henderson, who were a well-regarded trio of songwriters. This is a film with plenty of production value and not much else. The Art Deco cityscape came from a former Army balloon hanger, wired with thousands of mini light-bulbs (some of the footage from this film would find itself re-used in future productions such as Flash Gordon) The art direction from Stephen Goosson and Ralph Hammeras even received an Academy Award nomination, while the electrical equipment from Kenneth Strickfaden would be seen again and again in film, most notably with Frankenstein the following year. It also happened to be one of the first major sound science fiction films ever made. It can't, however, be thought of as much of a standout in the same way that others before and after (like Metropolis and Things to Come, respectively) it would prove to be, and it would not be until the 1950s that studios would come to make major science fiction films again (it did not stop them from making them on the cheap or as film serials, however). It also happened to be one of the few films with El Brendel in a starring role. He had been a vaudeville comedian for over a decade prior to signing a contract with Famous Players Film Company in 1926. His shtick was a character with nonsensical dialogue through a dialect routine, which was usually Swedish (he did not have Swedish heritage, rather being born to Irish and German parents).

I should have known something would be amiss early with the way it goes from 1880 to 1930 to 1980 in its opening with a joke about speed. Or perhaps it is way it depicts its future (and treats it for the 109 minute run-time) that really should have made me roll my eyes. It is a hard thing to try and predict the future, one might say (try doing one for life in 2070, for example). What did they guess would happen? Pill form food and drinks (with Prohibition still around), vending machine babies, people with numbers for names and marriage tribunals. The last one seems more of a substitute for the cliche of "disapproving father doesn't want daughter to marry someone beneath her" than anything, particularly since the lady doesn't get a choice in the matter. But hey, everyone gets a happy ending, so what does it matter to think about changing the status quo like those other future challenging films (never let it be said that I don't prefer some sort of rebellious action in films). With stiff leads in tow, one is doomed with a mediocre piece of entertainment that never leaps in the air to soar because it spends too much time on the ground. Brendel does technically provide laughs, but one can find his act to be tiresome if wanting to find something more interesting than him talking about "the good old days" when he was around in 1930 or being silly. O'Sullivan and Garrick don't help matters, one already finds the whole affair silly and hamhanded to begin with, and they barely have any chemistry to go with it. White and Albertson seem more at home with this, with "Never Swat a Fly" being at least tolerable to sit through as a song. This is barely a musical anyway, since the songs seem more forced-in than anything, and none of the songs are really that interesting to hear anyway. If the film didn't find time to spend on Mars, one would almost desire to become an antique like this movie perpetuates itself to be. With the metallic print and big shoulder design (combined with evil twins), who can not resist giggling a bit? It seems better to giggle at it than to actually laugh with it, honestly. By the time the film creaks to its predictable outcome, one will find themselves a bit impressed at the film decoration rather than the human elements. It wasn't a success with audiences (thereby keeping Brendel in supporting roles), and it has not received a proper release on home video (I found a copy on the Internet that occasionally showed a Fox Movie Channel imprint). It is a strange curiosity - an antique that tries to present the future. Whether that works or not to your sensibilities is up to you, but I find that it hasn't quite worked out so well for itself 90 years later.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

The Big Trail.

Review #1333: The Big Trail.

Cast: 
John Wayne (Breck Coleman), Marguerite Churchill (Ruth Cameron), El Brendel (Gus), Tully Marshall (Zeke), Tyrone Power, Sr. (Red Flack), Frederick Burton (Pa Bascom), Ian Keith (Bill Thorpe), Charles Stevens (Lopez), Louise Carver (Gus's mother-in-law), John Big Tree (Indian Chief), DeWitt Jennings (Boat Captain Hollister), and Ward Bond (Sid Bascom) Directed by Raoul Walsh (#399 - The Thief of Bagdad (1924), and #907 - White Heat)

Review: 
The 1930s were an evolving and experimental time for film. The decade had already started with the Great Depression that affected the entire world on an economical level (which would doom Fox Film founder William Fox in 1930). As such, escapist or big spectacle fare was quite prevalent during this time, with this decade being a prominent one for the Golden Age of Hollywood, particularly with a prevalent studio system (domination of film production and distribution by a small group of major studios). Sound films were a phenomenon during this time, and certain movies even were done in color. One film with its own attempt at innovation is The Big Trail - which was shot in Grandeur, a 70mm film process. It was the last film released by Fox Film with this short-lived process nor the first done with the intent of making a widescreen movie. The Corbett-Fitzsimmons Fight (1897), film's first feature film, was shot on a widescreen ratio of 1.65:1. Warner Bros released films with their widescreen process Vitascope, and MGM had the Fanthom Screen for a brief time, while The Bat (1930) was filmed in the 2:1 Magnifilm 65mm aspect ratio. Converting theaters to show in widescreen would prove futile, since they already had to deal the costs with adapting to sound, with the next push by a major studio to make films in widescreen not occurring again for two decades. One has to remember that this film was shot numerous times - not only was it done with the Grandeur cameras, it was also done with the conventional 35mm film alongside making versions for world audiences, with four versions in French, German, Italian, and Spanish done (this was before dubbing became more popular). Nowadays one can view the film in widescreen as originally intended - most theaters could not show it in this process, and the original 70mm negative was only preserved through a special printer over a year long process in the 1980s. On top of all that, the 35mm version was shorter at 108 minutes than the 70mm 122 minute run-time, so both films have scenes that aren't in the other version. This was a big spectacle piece, with over 90 actors and 700 natives from five different Native American tribes, hundreds of wagons and thousands of animals from cows to horses brought in. It only seems fitting that Raoul Walsh was behind the direction, seeing how this was the beginning his third decade of directing films, having spent the past fifteen years acting and directing before going on to direct further films in the next 34 years.

Of course the film also has a young talent with John Wayne at head. Wayne, who had went to the University of Southern California for football before an injury, had been hired as a prop boy/extra to actor Tom Mix (one of cinema's first Western stars, who also happened to good friends with Wyatt Earp) and director John Ford as a favor for his coach. He recorded bit parts in films such as Bardelys the Magnificent (1926), but it was Walsh who would notice the actor and think of him to headline this film While the film was not a major success at the time of its release (owing to its big budget), it is now noted as a prime Western for the era, one with sweeping spectacle and a well-earned first turn from its star and an engaging supporting cast to go with it. It takes its time to tell its story with an episodic nature on its take of the development of the West (which sounds a bit like The Covered Wagon (1923) - which also depicted a trip to Oregon), and it proves just as engaging with depicting the drive to make a living for oneself in a place of their own regardless of the struggle it would take to do so, whether involving the elements of weather or trying to get a wagon across the lands (along with some frontier justice). The film looks wonderful to view, where even the backgrounds can prove interesting to view besides the main conversation pairings. When it comes to Wayne, he really must have been born to play an Old West hero. Beyond his persona and the way he speaks and struts (which he took inspiration from Wyatt Earp) is a man who just has that raw presence this film desires in an everyman hero. While the film wasn't a major success, Wayne did continue to find work, albeit with B-movie Westerns before Stagecoach (1939) gave him another chance at prime status, which he worked handily. Churchill lines up fine when the film requires so, having some chemistry with him. Brendel, the vaudeville comedian turned film star does fine with delivering some comic relief alongside Carver when the film needs a fair chuckle. Power Sr, in his last role before his death the following year (along with his only talkie role), proves to be a worthy and sharp adversary, one who seeps right in as someone lurking in plain sight without needing to go for overblown theatrics. Marshall rounds out the cast in terms of being a fun highlight - warm, crusty and right-at-home kind presence (much like how he was the last time I saw him on film - which happened to be The Covered Wagon). In the end, the scenery is lush enough to be captured right on the screen, with Walsh handling a fairly well-made story (done by Hal G. Evarts, with un-credited help by Marie Boyle, Jack Peabody, Florence Postal, and Fred Sersen) together with craftsmanship and a game cast that stands tall as a gem that shines now more than ever after nine decades.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Hell's Angels.

Review #1332: Hell's Angels.

Cast: 
Ben Lyon (Monte Rutledge), James Hall (Roy Rutledge), Jean Harlow (Helen), John Darrow (Karl Arnstedt), Lucien Prival (Baron Von Kranz), Frank Clarke (Lt. von Bruen), Roy Wilson ("Baldy" Maloney), Douglas Gilmore (Capt. Redfield), Jane Winton (Baroness Von Kranz), Evelyn Hall (Lady Randolph), William B. Davidson (Staff Major), and Wyndham Standing (RFC squadron commander) Directed by Howard Hughes, James Whale (#069 - The Invisible Man, #071 - Frankenstein, #394 - Bride of Frankenstein, and #465 - The Old Dark House) and Edmund Goulding.

Review: 
Jean Harlow was a star that burned just as twice as bright as others that burned half as long as others for the 1930s during her short career. This was her first breakthrough film happened just appeared in bit roll since 1928 (when she was 17) before being noticed by James Hall while on production on this film which was in transition (having started in October of 1927). The film needed a new lead actress in order to be a talkie since Greta Nissen was being replaced in the lead role because of her Norwegian accent. The man behind the film as producer and director was Howard Hughes, business magnate/engineer who had produced films since 1926 most notably with Two Arabian Knights (1927). He spent nearly three million dollars on this film, sparing no expense in making his epic air story. The film went through multiple directors (Marshall Neilan, Luther Reed), multiple pilots being killed in airplane crashes, and a lawsuit by Hughes in order to provide to try and prevent another pilot film with The Dawn Patrol (1930) from beating it to theaters. The film was not a major success on upon original release, in part because of the large production costs, but it is now known as one of the earliest standout action films. Of note is the dialogue direction by James Whale, who had done direction for the stage production of Journey's End  (which coincidentally would be turned into a film by Whale that same year); there was also some direction done by Goulding, now known for his cultured dramas like Grand Hotel (1932) and The Razor's Edge (1946). There were two writers for the film - Marshall Neilan (story) and Joseph Moncure March (story and dialogue). The film certainly works better on the sum of its action sequences more so than its acting but it is generally interesting to sit through then as now. I will admit though that one film that definitely came to mind when watching this film was Wings (1927), which also featured a love triangle within a World War I plot alongside of notable flashes of color during sequences (although this does that through tinting and an eight minutes Multicolor filmed sequence). While Wings is definitely the better film in its composition, it shouldn't hinder the enjoyment of Hell's Angels - an imperfect but interesting experience that fits for some worthy escapism, albeit one that is a bit long at 131 minutes, but it sure is dreary enough for an epic aviation war film, I suppose.

The highlights of the film are the air sequences and Harlow, undeniably. It is a joy to see scenes done in the air, where one can always seem to sense riveting danger (whether for the character or for the actual pilot) without becoming bored by seeing plane flying and shooting at each other, probably because of how well crafted it is in filming and in execution. Hughes knows what he likes to see in the air come out on screen - this was the first of two films he directed (with the other taking just as long to come out in The Outlaw). The main two actors in Lyon and Hall do not fare as well with attention. Simply put: they are flat, and they barely even seem like siblings at all, with their interactions being the kind of wooden that plague films that know they can't be just action all the time but needs to pad themselves out anyway. Even though Harlow doesn't have as much screen experience as her two male stars, she excels in presence in each scene she appears in. She has that "it" factor like others before her, a bombshell that fits her era handily. Darrow is almost easy to forget, since his dilemma (a German Oxford student conscripted into the nation's Air Force) disappears halfway through (namely by dropping him from the sky) without much to say. Prival makes for an adequate adversary (he even gets to do a duel!), at least. If one is here for air action, you will get that will no trouble, with one even having blue tint to go with its night setting for wondrous effect (with the highlight being a plane crashing right into a blimp). The rest doesn't quite measure up, but it will prove adequate enough for entertainment for its era without trouble.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

People on Sunday.

Review #797: People on Sunday.

Cast
Erwin Splettstößer (Himself - taxi driver), Brigitte Borchert (Herself  - record seller), Wolfgang von Waltershausen (Himself - wine seller), Christl Ehlers (Herself - an extra in films), and Annie Schreyer (Herself - model) Directed by Robert Siodmak and Edgar G. Ulmer.

Review
People on Sunday (Menschen am Sonntag) is not only the first film from 1930 reviewed on Movie Night, but it's also the first German film reviewed here since Metropolis (#500) over two years ago, alongside being the first silent film and second world cinema film reviewed this year. The subtitle of the film is "a film without actors", in light of the fact that the people in this movie were amateurs who (according to the opening titles) returned to their normal jobs by the time the movie was released in February 1930. It's interesting to see a movie like this, with ordinary people being spotlighted on their day (Sunday) off in Berlin, with the emphasis on five individuals. This is a movie not made for a complex plot, nor standout performances to win awards, but a movie made as it is, with no real inflated sense of artificial stock, feeling very realistic for its time about Berlin.

Though the movie was released as the Great Depression was in swing, the movie was made in the previous year on a low budget, but the movie nevertheless has an aura of innocence to it, especially Berlin, with regards to the decade (and more) that followed. I do love this one scene in which a photographer photographs a bunch of people's faces, from old to young, and I love the scene because there is a certain sense of charm to seeing people enjoying leisure time that fits well with the movie. It should be noted that this movie was written not only by the Sidomak brothers (Robert and Curt), bu also Billy Wilder, who left Berlin for Hollywood in 1933, writing and directing several classics, such as Some Like It Hot (#106), Ace in the Hole (#194), The Fortune Cookie (#422), The Apartment (#641), and several other movies in an over 40 year span. Fittingly, the movie ends on this title card: "And then on Monday...it is back to work... back to the everyday... back to the daily grind... Four... million... wait for... the next Sunday. The end." Ultimately, the movie is both an interesting time capsule into the lives of people (who never acted again) in Berlin along with being a hallmark of realism that is interesting to watch even today.

Countdown: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3...

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars,