Showing posts with label Frances Marion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Frances Marion. Show all posts

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Emma (1932)

Emma (no relation to the Jane Austin story) is one of the best Marie Dressler dramas - perhaps, in its gentle way, even stronger than Min and Bill.

Nominated for an Academy award for her role, Dressler plays the nanny for the four children of an inventor (well-played by Jean Hersholt). When Dressler and the inventor marry, most of the children revolt against the relationship, culminating in Dressler being dragged to court on malicious charges by the very kids she spent her life raising.

The screenplay, written by Dressler's friend and supporter, Frances Marion, is tailor-made for her, allowing Dressler a full range of emotions. The story is sentimental and endearing in the best ways; it has the ache of real emotions in it, such as the very effective scene in which Emma sees the ghost memories of the children she raised, in her vacant, lonely house.The long marriage proposal scene, beginning in her bedroom and ending in the middle of an airport, is also quite effectively sustained; the director, Clarence Brown, was perfect for sequences such as this.

One could argue that Emma's unblinking belief in her children (most of whom grew up vile and greedy) was naive. So what? Emma's not a perfect person, and it's the humanity of the characters that makes the film enjoyable eighty years later.


That Dressler's style could be utilized for dramas like this in addition to her career as a comedian is a testament to her versatility and professionalism.

Myrna Loy plays one of the bratty kids, in a role that in no way stands out.

Side note: the railroad station scene, featuring lingering close-up shots of a broad-range of just-released magazines, is a freeze-frame extravaganza for magazine collectors.

Emma has been released on Warner Bros. Archive DVD.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Blondie of the Follies (1932)


In the same year that MGM cast Marion Davies in the embarrassing Polly of the Circus, they sort of made amends by casting her in the far more interesting Blondie of the Follies (what was next: Molly of the Midway?).

Blondie of the Follies benefits from two major talents allowed the freedom to do their stuff: Davies and co-screenwriter Anita Loos. In this film, Davies is allowed to show the range of her acting talents, from careful, poignant scenes to parody (in an out-of-place but funny scene with Jimmy Durante, playing himself). Under the hand of Loos and Francis Marion, the dialogue is fast, smart, quick-witted; one would never guess this was the same Anita Loos who wrote sap four years later like San Francisco.

Special mention needs to go to the perpetually old-looking James Gleason, who's given a choice role as Davies' father, attempting to prevent her from leaving their dreary tenement existence for the stage. Often used as stock comedy relief, Gleason was here given a role requiring depth of feeling, and he delivers it.

Blondie of the Follies also stars Robert Montgomery, and Billie Dove as the other compenents of a love triangle, and Zasu Pitts, who's supposed to be Davies' sister (!).

One might guess MGM tried to wreck this film in another completely implausible happy wrap-up scene of the sort the company specialized in. It didn't work - Blondie of the Follies is still worth seeing.

Blondie of the Follies is not available on DVD or VHS, but has been broadcast on Turner Classic Movies.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

The Secret Six (1931)

A 1931 crime film with Wallace Beery, Clark Gable, Jean Harlow, Lewis Stone, Ralph Bellamy, and Johnny Mack Brown – a recipe for a great film, right?

The Secret Six has a great opening act, but then loses its way. First it’s the story of a low-life slaughter-house worker, Beery, opting instead for a rising career as a bootlegger and well-paid thug. Then it’s a love-triangle, with reporters Clark Gable and Johnny Mack Brown vying for the attention of club worker Jean Harlow. Then it’s a police procedural, with a bizarre and unexplained group of black-masked men in power working behind the scenes to bring down Beery, who by this time is in politics. Lastly, it’s a courtroom drama.

Get all that?

The casting is perfect. Beery, who wants steak for dinner after a day of killing cattle, could be reprising his role from The Big House. Lewis Stone gives an unexpectedly understated performance as the quiet head of the gang (did Brando see this?), and Ralph Bellamy, in his first role, is convincingly menacing as a double-dealing gangster. Gable, Harlow, and Brown play early versions of the sorts of characters Hollywood made them famous for.

The Secret Six also falters in its dialogue. I hate to dis the honored Francis Marion, who worked on 166 films from 1912 to 1940. She was Mary Pickford’s personal screenwriter (some great films, those), and brought good, basic storytelling skills to many silent and sound films. By the early ‘30s, though, the tropes she relied on in her dialogue were perhaps getting stale: The Secret Six must contain at least a dozen instances of the responses, “Yeah?” and “Oh, yeah?” Producer Irving Thalberg may have had a hand in the script’s plot, though, as there’s talk about Thalberg making Gable’s role in the film larger late in the shooting process.

The Secret Six has been released on Warner Archives DVD-R.