Cast:
Edward G. Robinson (Caesar Enrico "Rico" Bandello), Douglas Fairbanks Jr. (Joe Massara), Glenda Farrell (Olga Stassoff), William Collier Jr. (Tony Passa), Sidney Blackmer (Big Boy), Ralph Ince (Pete Montana), Thomas E. Jackson (Sergeant Flaherty), Stanley Fields (Sam Vettori), Maurice Black (Little Arnie Lorch), and George E. Stone (Otero) Directed by Mervyn LeRoy (#596 - Random Harvest)
Review:
There is an interesting curiosity one can find from movies made in the pre-Code era of Hollywood filmmaking. Sure, there were boards of censorship all across the country since the silent era, but one generally finds more interest in looking at the era of filmmaking when sound become prevalent in feature films. In other words, one sees things differently in film when you can hear the action to go along with it, regardless of the fact that public pressure would soon mount a Motion Picture Production Code that would soon oversee features for three decades. But that was in 1934, so let us jump back to 1931. This was the same year that saw the release of The Public Enemy (featuring James Cagney in the role that also made him a star) which came out three months after this feature, with each being based on written experiences in Chicago near gangster types, with this film being based off the book of the same name by W. R. Burnett (a novelist and screenwriter for decades who had resided in the city as a hotel desk clerk), with a screenplay written by Francis Edward Faragoh and Robert N. Lee (each nominated for an Academy Award for their work here, which they lost to the writers for Cimarron), with un-credited work by Robert Lord and Darryl F. Zanuck. Incidentally, Robinson and Cagney would star together in a feature together in Smart Money (1931), a crime drama that was the first and only time they starred together. For all the speculation about inspirations within the gangster Al Capone for either The Public Enemy or this feature (which drew not so much entirely on Capone but also criminals such as Salvatore "Sam" Cardinella), this was also the same year that he was charged and convicted of tax evasion that saw him put in jail. At any rate, those aforementioned films also made stars of their lead actors; Robinson had emigrated to the States from Romania as a child, but his first interest was in law before acting. Years spent in the theatre served him well when he started to make regular appearances in film with The Hole in the Wall (1929), which would be one of a handful of films he appeared in that ranged from second to supporting role (primarily in the crime drama genre). Of course, the gangster film did not entirely start with this film either, since one could argue that Underworld (1927) as the proto-gangster movie, and Lights of New York (1928), the first all-talking feature (which alongside Public Enemy and Little Caesar was released by the studio) also had elements of the crime drama in it. At any rate, Burnett was also one of the writers behind Scarface (1932), which also has stood as one of the lasting key pieces of the gangster film, particularly in the pre-Code era.
At the helm for this feature is LeRoy, who had graduated from a brief stint in acting to writing comedies to directing his own features in the 1920s. Little Caesar is one of over thirty features that he would direct in the 1930s for a decade with plenty of audience appetite for films. As a whole, it might not be as devastating in raw entertainment as The Public Enemy, but its lead performance by Robinson essentially carries it enough to the point where it does not matter too much because one is having too much fun with the gripping interest generated in 79 minutes. LeRoy was one of the hardest working directors of his time, and it certainly shows in both his successes and missteps presented here, one that has some fairly well captured shots from cinematographer Tony Gaudio to accommodate some static moments (as is the case with early sound films, and this even has a few intertitles) without seeming too constrained or too apart while serving as a blunt instrument of efficient filmmaking. There would be a variety of gangster films over the next few years, but Little Caesar managed to stay its welcome with its reasonable edge for the subject that didn't go straight for easy tricks such as indulging in violence or confusing its message in simplified or complicated gobbledygook - it helped to build the clichés to gaze upon in the gangster film for years to come, if you think about it. You get a tale of someone rising the ladder in organized crime that doesn't pull punches, and Robinson is at the forefront of making this role his with no complication. He would find himself typecast in a variety of tough guy roles over the next few years (even taking a role in Larceny, Inc (1942) to offset his image with a comedy, which I fondly remember enjoying), and it isn't too hard to see why, owing to his voice and mannerisms that make him undeniably interesting to view through the film, whether spent trying to strong-arm Fairbanks Jr or strong-arm himself into the next big thing; everybody needs a good death scene in a gangster film (no matter how prepared/un-prepared one is for it), and he makes that final line stick with the right sense of doom and folly required. Fairbanks Jr and Farrell are meant to match him in sensibility, which generally works out fine in useful engagement without detracting from the general experience. The supporting cast prove worthy enough in setting the seedy atmosphere required in terms of grimy strength (ones that could be thought of as faceless brutes). Jackson plays the authority with coarse charm that doesn't serve to make this a straight moral tale. As a whole, its portrayal of the rise and fall of a crime lord proves quite interesting in cultivating a worthy atmosphere and tension within a great lead performance and fair support from others in a proven feature that has endured well for itself after eight decades since its release, a fitting marker for a star and director that had plenty of time to follow up their successes in their field.
On the board for the Count to Ten Project, updated.
1921: 5, 1922-23: 8 each, 1924: 9, 1926: 7, 1929: 5
1930: 6, 1934: 4, 1935: 5, 1936-37: 6, 1938: 5
1940-41: 8 each, 1944: 7, 1948-49: 8 each
Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.
