The Cat's-Paw.

Review #2220: The Cat's-Paw.

Cast: 

Harold Lloyd (Ezekiel Cobb), Una Merkel (Petunia Pratt), George Barbier (Jake Mayo), Nat Pendleton (Strozzi), Grace Bradley (Dolores Doce), Alan Dinehart (Mayor Ed Morgan), Grant Mitchell (Silk Hat McGee), and E. Alyn Warren (Tien Wang) Directed by Sam Taylor (#667 - The Freshman, #727 - For Heaven's Sake, #758 - Safety Last!, #864 - Hot Water, #903 - Dr. Jack, #918 - Why Worry?, #938 - Girl Shy, #1331 - Coquette)

Review: 

Amusingly, this was the first film starring Harold Lloyd in which his character name was something other than "Harold" since Hot Water (1924; of course in that movie, that character was named "Hubby"). The movie was the eighth and final film collaboration between director Sam Taylor and star Harold Lloyd. You may remember that Taylor got his start as a director with Dr. Jack (1922) after a number of years as a writer. He directed Lloyd alongside Fred C. Newmeyer (back when co-directing was the rage) from that film all the way to For Heaven's Sake (1926) before going on to direct a variety of other stars such as Will Rogers and Mary Pickford. Taylor may not have been a distinct director of his time in say, personality, but he was a dedicated filmmaker regardless. This was near the end of Taylor's career as a director, where the release of his next film in Vagabond Lady (1935) was his penultimate feature before closing his career out with a Laurel and Hardy production in Nothing but Trouble (1944); Taylor died in 1958 at the age of 62. At any rate, the genesis for this film came from a novel that had been first serialized in The Saturday Evening Post by Clarence Budington Kelland (a prolific writer that had plenty of stories turned into films, such as Mr. Deeds Goes to Town [1936]) that Lloyd had liked enough to buy the rights to when only the first chapter had been out for the public. Taylor and an uncredited Clyde Bruckman did work for the script adaptation while Lloyd did a bit of uncredited directorial work (as one probably expects from someone producing his own film). The next feature film with Lloyd would come in 1936 with Leo McCarey's The Milky Way.

It's funny that a two-year gap between this and Movie Crazy was something critics of the time needed to point out with Lloyd, as if one was checking problems in an assembly line. To be fair, some of the films did fall along the same outline with Lloyd in bumbling nature. Admittedly, when one is considering the fact that Movie Crazy (1932) was the only good feature of Lloyd's first three sound efforts, it sort of seems easy to say that The Cat's Paw (the name refers to a guy being used as a dupe) ends up being just as decent (at least this time, the "well-meaning boy or fumbler type of character", as I said in my last Lloyd review, doesn't seem too much on the nose here). Sure, it is a bit weird (take a guess at the stereotypes and wonder where the line is drawn), but it is pretty efficient at 102 minutes in letting Lloyd grow up just a bit. Not packing as much slapstick but still pretty loaded in useful principles, he may be playing a "fish out of water", but it is a compelling one to watch that straddles the line between silly and the eventual figure of actual interest without needing a climax involving stunts (unlike a handful of previous Lloyd films). Making light of dirty politics is handled in a silly way that at least is funny for a little while Merkel and Lloyd make a pretty decent pairing to go with a worthwhile honest dishonest man in Barbier. So yes, the climax involves a bout of trickery that amuses me because well, who doesn't love a bit of stage magic. As a whole, Lloyd may have a strange time getting into the groove of making consistent sound features, but The Cat's-Paw is a worthwhile example of Lloyd still trying to make his style of comedy connect to the audiences at large. While not everything has probably aged well in the nine decades since its release, it will likely be worth one's time.

 

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

The Bank Dick.

Review #1354: The Bank Dick.

Cast: 
W.C. Fields (Egbert Sousé), Cora Witherspoon (Agatha Sousé), Una Merkel (Myrtle Sousé), Evelyn Del Rio (Elsie Mae Adele Brunch Sousé), Jessie Ralph (Mrs. Hermisillo Brunch), Grady Sutton (Og Oggilby), Franklin Pangborn (J. Pinkerton Snoopington), Shemp Howard (Joe Guelpe), Dick Purcell (Mackley Q. Greene), Russell Hicks (J. Frothingham Waterbury), Pierre Watkin (Mr. Skinner), and Jack Norton (A. Pismo Clam) Directed by Edward F. Cline (#877 - Three Ages)

Review: 
"You've heard the old legend that it's the little put-upon guy who gets the laughs, but I'm the most belligerent guy on the screen. I'm going to kill everybody. But, at the same time, I'm afraid of everybody—just a great big frightened bully"

Comedians can come in all shapes and sizes. They can deliver laughs on screen through sight gags, verbal puns, or through their comic persona. One can see many kinds of personas play out in film if they watch enough of them, and W. C. Fields is one that isn't easily forgotten. he was characterized for his misanthropic persona alongside a distinct hard-drinking drawl, with his strong presence often being identified with Fields (particularly his supposed hatred of dogs and kids). Fields' first talent was in juggling, entering vaudeville in 1898. He made his Broadway debut seven years later before appearing in the Ziegfeld Follies revue in 1915 to entertain the audience with a billiards skit. That year, he made his appearance in film for the first time with Pool Sharks, a short film. Not until 1924 did he return to film (due to stage-work), and he worked with various directors over the following decade ranging from D. W. Griffith (Sally of the Sawdust, That Royle Girl) to A. Edward Sutherland (It's the Old Army Game and five others). Health troubles led to his career slowing down in his final years, where he starred in just five films from 1938 to 1941, while making appearances in four other films in the following three years (along with continued radio appearances) before his death in 1946. at the age of 66. In any case, this was his penultimate starring role, for which he also contributed the story (under the pun name of Mahatma Kane Jeeves), while Richard A. Carroll helped with dialogue. Cline, who also began his career in vaudeville along with being one of the Keystone Kops, served as director, his fourth of five collaborations with Fields (the first was Million Dollar Legs in 1932). He believed in just letting Fields run with whatever he wanted to do, while editing out any undesired ad-libs (which tended to crack up the crew, including Cline at times).

Fields seems right at home with this film, a drunken crank who still manages to generate amusement alongside sympathy that makes for a entertaining sit at 72 minutes. He has a confidence to him in delivering zippy lines (whether when seeming drunk or not) and interacting with the others, whether that means pretending to be a film director or nearly throwing a urn at his daughter. He is exactly the kind of person we love to see be on screen with his flaws because they are the flaws we can see in ourselves. He may mistreat a kid or a mess with a comic foil, but we find ourselves laughing all the same. The film definitely has an episodic feel to it, particularly whether when seeing him as a director or in the saloon or the bank, but it never loses momentum at any rate. The rest of the cast keep up as useful foils, particularly with Sutton, Pangborn, and Howard. They have different manners of interacting against Fields (whether friendly or not), and they keep up with his antics just fine. The film builds itself up to a frantic chase sequence (complete with a re-used gag from one of Cline's earlier works) that makes for silly charm. One will have a fun time with this feature, a stand-out that represents Fields at the top of his game in making one laugh with entertainment. There should be no doubts about watching this to alleviate their curiosity, that much is for sure.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

42nd Street.

Review #1340: 42nd Street.

Cast: 
Warner Baxter (Julian Marsh), Bebe Daniels (Dorothy Brock), George Brent (Pat Denning), Ruby Keeler (Peggy Sawyer), Guy Kibbee (Abner Dillon), Una Merkel (Lorraine Fleming), Ginger Rogers (Ann Lowell), Ned Sparks (Barry), Dick Powell (Billy Lawler), Allen Jenkins (Mac Elroy, the stage manager), and Edward J. Nugent (Terry) Directed by Lloyd Bacon (#562 - It Happens Every Spring and #898 - Larceny, Inc)

Review: 
"Sawyer, you're going out a youngster, but you've got to come back a star!"

For the 1930s, the musical had numerous phases of development. Film had gone a long way from musical short films in the earlier half of the 1920s to The Jazz Singer (1927) to The Broadway Melody (1929) and so on, with ones even done in color. However, the craze of doing musicals had stalled quickly in 1931, owing to over-saturation in the market. Of course this small lull would not last long, it just needed some evolution. One key figure in contributing the remedy was Busby Berkeley. By the time of the 1920s, he had already been a field artillery lieutenant in World War I before becoming a dance director and choreographer on Broadway musicals such as A Connecticut Yankee, which were known for their complex choreography. His film choreography career started with Whoopee! (1930), and he would soon be known for his distinct arrangements, which were usually large and/or geometric, complete with a "parade of faces" (kind close-ups of chorus girls distinctly). Berkeley spent 1933 on several films (including his directorial debut with She Had to Say Yes), with Footlight Parade (also directed by Bacon), Gold Diggers of 1933, and this film all turning out to be major successes for Warner Bros, each of which ranking in the top ten in the box office for 1933. His career would continue for the rest of the decade, serving as both choreographer and director on several films, with his last credit being Billy Rose's Jumbo (1962). Who better to do a film like this than Lloyd Bacon, who had previous experience in musical films such as The Singing Fool (1928). The film, as you might expect, is adapted from a novel of the same name by Bradford Ropes, with the screenplay from Rian James, James Seymour, and Whitney Bolton, while Harry Warren and Al Dubin contributed the music and lyrics, respectively. This material would later turn into a hit musical for Broadway in 1980, which ran for nine years.

All of this background material goes to show what you can say about an interesting film when your curiosity is stimulated. This is an entertaining backstage musical, full of rough ambitious energy with a game ensemble cast (a mix of established actors and newcomers) and a reasonable pace at 89 minutes that finds time for some fairly charming songs and a bit of plot to go with it. Simply put, it is a prime musical for its era, lively without seeming too stagey that had plagued other musicals before. Baxter carries the ship with careful control, a man filled with desperate energy that is burning to the last flicker of a waning flame, a familiar type if you've ever seen someone trying to manage people to some form of success. Daniels does reasonably well with her role, doing a fair bit of dancing and having fair chemistry with Brent, who pulls the thin romance off just fine for what is needed. Keeler shows enough spunk for a film debut (her first film appearance had been a cameo in Show Girl in Hollywood three years prior) to make you interested in her path and see her sing her way through. Kibbee certainly works fine with bluster for the brief time one sees him speak. Merkel and Rogers deliver a chuckle or two before doing their part on the stage with singing. In any case, the real spectacle of the show is Berkeley's choreography, most notably with a tracking shot done between the legs of the dancers until it reveals Powell and an un-credited Toby Wing. Other highlights include the "Shuffle Off to Buffalo" sequence, a catchy tune that soon shows a train compartment opening up to reveal plenty more cast mates behind it while showing a shot of the orchestra and audience viewing it (or at least that's what the camera wants you to see). The black backgrounds help when showing the geometric part of the dance numbers, which are quite a treat when seeing this sleek execution work out magnificently. The film certainly tries to capture the grind of its decade when relating to hard struggle of exhausting work and commitment to a craft that one hopes comes to fruition with adulation and not crushing failure, which is made clear with its carefully crafted last scene, with a drained director quietly listening some of the patrons opinions by himself. Sure, he overcame tough odds, but all the opinions are about how he "supposedly" will take credit for the show and discovering the new star, since "some guys get all the breaks". In the end, the film is one that resonates just as well back then as it does now in its basic tenants: that one can make it with enough talent, luck and flat out hard work for the chance at some success to be proud of. It works with Depression-era crowds and it can still work with those curious at heart now.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: The Maltese Falcon (1931).

Review #395: The Maltese Falcon.

Cast
Bebe Daniels (Ruth Wonderly), Ricardo Cortez (Sam Spade), Dudley Digges (Casper Gutman), Una Merkel (Effie Perine), Robert Elliott (Dundy), Thelma Todd (Iva Archer), Otto Matieson (Joel Cairo), Walter Long (Miles Archer), and Dwight Frye (Wilmer Cook) Directed by Roy Del Ruth.

Review
As it turns out, the 1941 film version of the Dashiell Hammett novel was not the first adaptation, as this 1931 film was made first, though it would soon languish into obscurity, even being called Dangerous Female after the 1941 film was released. But my question before watching was would it be any good. And...it's not exactly good, but it has some sort of merit. Trying to compare this and the 1941 film is liking trying to compare a work of art by Picasso to a painting by a beginner, it's just not fair to compare because as I said in my review of the 1941 film, "The film has a style to it that helps the film makes its case for a good film, if not already from the acting. The story's good, making you interested in it for the entirety of the film." From what I've heard, the two films are pretty close to the novel, different in some ways, and this version feels like the 1941 version, but not too much. Maybe it's just me, but when I was watching I thought I heard a crackly noise that kept going in the background for the rest of the film, but that could just be me. The actors are alright, and the sets do look well. The film shows its age at points, and while this isn't a great film in most sense, this at least should watched once, either before or after the 1941 film. Take this for it's worth, no matter the consequences. Countdown to 400 Reviews: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5...

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.