What Am I Watching?: Well, I’ll Tell You

Classic movies are obviously one of my favorite things (hence this venue for my passion), and although I write about various films and classic stars, there are so many other personal viewings whose good or bad aspects, as the case may be, don’t get recorded on this blog. There just isn’t enough time to write about them all as in depth as I might like. Having said that, I’d like to pass along a few films, recently viewed, but not shared.



The Great Man's Lady (1942)
Starring Barbara Stanwyck and Joel McCrea, with second lead going to Brian Donlevy, The Great Man’s Lady has a cast who can always deliver the cinematic goods. McCrea is the Great Man, Stanwyck, his lady. Babs ages from 16 to over 100 (pictured above), and lives a lot of life in between. Director William Wellman leaves his signature masculine touch, with plenty of rough and tumble historics mixed with emotional histrionics.

Stanwyck was made for this kind of role. She is part Stella Dallas, part Victoria Barkley. Some may wonder why she sacrifices so much for her “great man”, but that’s the nature of old Hollywood. Catch it if you can.



Le Corbeau (The Raven; 1943)
Director Henri-Georges Clouzot was known as “the French Hitchcock” and with good reason. Most famous for 1955’s Les Diaboliques, Clouzot shot Le Corbeau during the war and its somber mood and very adult themes reflect the conditions of his nation at the time. More a mystery than a suspense, the latter characteristic is always present.

Le Corbeau or The Raven is the signature used by a poison pen letter writer in a small French burg, whose main aggression is directed at a local doctor (Pierre Fresnay). The letters accuse, among many other things, the doctor of being an abortionist. Pretty frank topic during World War II, or anytime before the new millennium for that fact. The entire film is frank and extremely well made. Even if you aren’t into sub-titles, if you like film noir at all, I suggest you give this foreign flick a try, as it is very noirish in feel.



Four Frightened People (1934)
I don’t usually write about films that I didn’t really enjoy, but with this particular post, one takes the good with the bad. It’s not that Four Frightened People is particularly bad, it’s just not all that good. Directed by the gargantuan filmmaker Cecil B. DeMille, it did not even make back its cost and DeMille counted it one of his box office turkeys.

The story tells of four completely different types from the western world, who evacuate a ship off the Malayan coast, which has been striken with bubonic plague. They make their way to land only to be lost in the deepest jungle, to be hunted by nasty natives and even nastier attitudes among themselves. Think Survivor 1934.


Starring Claudette Colbert and Herbert Marshall, with support by William Gargan and Mary Boland, and made at Paramount, the film looks more like one of the studios attempts at a low grade B flick than a Cecil B. DeMille mega-production. But the thing that really got this blogger, was Claudette Colbert, who never disappoints. As a mousy, high strung old maid teacher (can you imagine!), she is anything but classic Colbert. Then she blossoms into a jungle maiden, wearing a sarong of giant banana leaves or leopard print, in full make-up and coiffure. We are talking Fredrick's of Hollywood in the middle of a jungle folks. But the classic Colbert would appear directly after this film was released, because it was then that she played her career changing Oscar winning role in It Happened One Night. One bright spot is Mary Boland. Looking like Paula Deen’s grandmother, Boland is a comic relief of sorts, a toned down version of her Countess DeLave from The Women (1939). I wouldn’t say “Don’t watch this”, as it is watchable but don’t expect a lot either.


There you have it. Rupert’s recent roster of raves and rants. Which leads me to ask, have YOU seen anything delightful or deplorable of late?

Pre-Code Barbara Stanwyck: You've Got the Cutest Little "Baby Face"

Raw, gutsy and independent, Barbara Stanwyck was a “brawd” in the truest sense of the word and one of the best examples that Hollywood had to offer. This tough dame persona, which ran rampant in classics like Double Indemnity (1944), The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946) and a variety of westerns in the 1950’s, found its roots in the actress’ pre-code movies of the early 1930’s. While many of her contemporaries tried to speak with a pseudo-British accent, a common trait as part of actor's film diction training by various studios (MGM was the worst), Stanwyck not only spoke in her native Brooklyn-ese, but wore it as a badge of honor. Among other things it made her stand out from the pack of young actresses who seemed bound for stardom in the early days of talkies.

In the period of Hollywood history known as the pre-code era (the time in the early 1930’s before the Production Censorship Code was put into strict enforcement), Stanwyck’s roles stood out as some of the most notable and brazen. Along with Mae West’s early cinematic romps, Stanwyck’s racy Baby Face (1933), helped pave the way for a tighter hold by Hollywood censors later in the decade. Her husky, knowing voice not only betrayed her Brooklyn roots, but revealed in her roles of this period, an earthy, wanton past. Her characters had been around the block, and if they hadn’t, they wanted to.



Her screen image in the Thirties was that of a self-sacrificing mother or a tramp, either with a heart of gold or cold and hard, with the capacity of redemption. Some of her film’s plots during this interval were contrived and hard to swallow, such as The Purchase Price (1932) and Ladies They Talk About (1933), but Stanwyck’s performance always shined and made otherwise unbelievable situations extremely entertaining. She possessed similar screen traits to one of her screen peers at MGM during the same time, Joan Crawford. Like Crawford, she was often cast as a lower class young woman scraping her way in a man’s world. Just as Joan was the eternal shopworn shopgirl in her pre-code films, Barbara actually starred in a film titled Shopworn (1932). But unlike Crawford, Stanwyck was more hard boiled. She could play not only a gangster’s moll but the gangster, and she had no qualms when it came to revenge. Also unlike Crawford, who was, and wanted to be, iron clad contracted with her studio, Stanwyck had non-exclusive contracts with both Columbia AND Warner Brothers during a time when the studio ruled. Talk about gutsy.

Barbara Stanwyck’s real life past lent a certain credence to her onscreen performances. Born in Brooklyn in 1907 as Ruby Stevens, she was orphaned at a very young age and was cast about in several foster homes until eventually hitting the stage as a teen and becoming a chorus girl. Mind you, a chorus girl in the 1920’s was not exactly a Little Bo Peep existence. She met and married Frank Fay, a popular vaudeville star and followed him to Hollywood, where she got a less than auspicious start in movies. Her first two features were duds, and discouraged and distraught, she went, on recommendation of Columbia Studio boss Harry Cohn, to see director Frank Capra about a picture he was casting called Ladies of Leisure (1930). Capra thought Stanwyck “sullen” and she left the interview prematurely. But after viewing a test she had made for another film, the director wanted her in his picture and the two became great friends with Capra saying of the actress in his autobiography, “In a Hollywood popularity contest, she would win first prize hands down.” A notion shared my many in the film community for years to come.

In Ladies of Leisure, the actress plays a “party girl”. In her next film, Illicit (1930), as if the title wasn’t titillating enough, she plays a girl who wants to live with her lover outside of marriage (this is 1930 we’re talking here). Forbidden (1932), shows her as a sexually repressed librarian who throws caution to the wind and becomes the mistress of a married man, even having his child out of wedlock. Ladies They Talk About (1933), she winds up in a women’s prison. These kinds of roles and ones similar to them, were a prevailing theme in Stanwyck’s early work. Bouncing back and forth between Columbia with roles in early Capra films and Warner Brothers, the actress made great career strides eventually gaining full fledged stardom. The culmination of this bad girl image arguably came in the form of Baby Face, the deliciously decadent diatribe which helped push Hollywood censors over the edge.

Baby Face features Stanwyck as Lily Powers, product of a grimy factory town where her bootlegging father has been pimping her out since she was 14. When he is killed she heads for the big city to make her mark. Starting from the ground floor, she literally sleeps her way to the top in a large metro bank, where she eventually becomes the mistress of the vice president then marries the banks newly elected president (George Brent). The film’s imagery of Stanwyck’s ascent to material wealth is priceless. With each corporate conquest (one of which is played by young pre-stardom John Wayne, pictured above), the camera pans further upward the exterior of a New York skyscraper, which represents the bank in which she intends to prevail, all to the sound of St. Louis Blues on the saxophone. How pre-code is that.
Even in her more tame film efforts after the enforcement of the censorship code, Barbara Stanwyck’s tenacity and vitality shined through. She went on to make better known and glossier pictures, but the seed had been planted in her early days. In these pre-code offerings of sin, seduction and self-sacrifice, Stanwyck showed she not only had what it took, but knew exactly how to use it.
If you are interested in these or any other merchandise, please help support this blog by purchasing them through the Amazon portal at the top of this page. By accessing Amazon through this site, you help me maintain resource material and continue to share my love of classic film. Thank you very much.

Christmas in Connecticut (1945): Christmas and Stanwyck, These Are A Few of My Favorite Things

Unlike Remember the Night (1940), the Christmas flick starring Barbara Stanwyck, which is relatively unknown to the masses, Christmas in Connecticut is a Yuletide offering with Stanwyck that gains more of a following with each passing year. The highly successful actress, professional to a fault and proficient in both heavy drama and screwball comedy, created in this film, a character whose stylish sense of humor has charmed classic film lovers for over 60 years. In fact, the film itself has every bit of style and panache today ~ if not more so ~ as it did in 1945, when it was released by Warner Brothers. Even the department store delivery girl is chic and modern when she ushers in Stanwyck's swanky mink coat.

A Christmas Eve staple for decades, Christmas in Connecticut features Babs as Elizabeth Lane, author of a wildly popular homemaking column in the fictional magazine Smart Housekeeping. However, as it turns out, the Martha Stewart of her day is a complete fake and hasn't a domestic bone in her cosmopolitan body, and when her publisher asks her to play hostess to a young attractive war hero for Christmas, all heck breaks loose. The cast of characters, which is perfect to a fault, rings in the holiday with complete hilarious abandon, making each successive viewing more familiar and more smile inducing.

Barbara is joined in the merriment by Dennis Morgan as Jefferson Jones, the sailor, whose obvious charms entice both a Navy hospital nurse (Joyce Compton) and our magazine darling. But he's not alone, the cast is bulging at the seams with delightful talent including the rotund Sidney Greenstreet as Stanwyck's abominable boss Alexander Yardley, who huffs and puffs his way from Long Island to Connecticut, eating anything he can get his hands on along the way. And speaking of jolly fat men (no, HE'S not in this movie), this film offers double duty with S.Z. "Cuddles" Sakall joining Greenstreet in a corpulent clique. As Uncle Felix, the Hungarian Sakall's verbal massacre of the English language is matched only by his deadpan delivery of it. When he is informed of the definition of the word catastrophe, it leaves his mouth pronounced "cat'e stroph" ~ no final "e" ~ in the thickest Hungarian accent imaginable and used often at the most opportune times. Joyce Compton is a peach as Nurse Mary Lee, who orchestrates the whole fiasco in an attempt to nab a marriage proposal from "Jeffy Boy" (Morgan). Reginald Gardiner, Una O'Connor and Frank Jenks round out the top notch ensemble.

So much of the dialogue in Christmas in Connecticut is devoted to food. Stanwyck, the "fabulous cook" who can't even boil water basically depends on Uncle Felix, a fabulous restaurateur, for sustenance. The portly gourmet delivers to her door a "yummy mushroom omelette" after her own attempts at breakfast yield a tin of sardines! It is from Felix that she obtains the copy for her magazine cavalcade of culinary delights. " I took crisp lettuce, romaine, and crinkly endive from my own garden for my husband's favorite salad. For this I made a rich, creamy blue cheese dressing. Then to prepare roast duck his favorite way, I rub salt and pepper on the inside, then brown the duck in its own fat..." The gastronomic references continue with Mr. Yardley's refusal to partake in his doctor's recommended Christmas menu: mashed prune whip and creamed turnip fluff. I'd pass too. But the epicurean descriptions add a festive holiday element displayed throughout the movie, an element enhanced by several snowy horse drawn sleigh rides ( jingle bells included). Stanwyck, Morgan and the rest of the crew combine to make Christmas in Connecticut a light and fluffy holiday confection, which if missed would be "cat' e stroph."

Remember the Night (1940): Unsung Christmas Classic

Classic movie lovers know Fred MacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck (complete with blonde wig) as Walter Neff and Phyllis Dietrichson, the adulterous murderous duo in the noir classic Double Indemnity (1944), but four years before they became the duplicitous pair of nasty doings, the stars made a little remembered Christmas film ironically called Remember the Night. Each brought their own brand of star power and persona to their roles in the Preston Sturges written flick, MacMurray as a strong and low key hero caught up in the whirlwind that is Stanwyck in a jam.

Set on Christmas Eve in New York City, MacMurray plays a prosecuting attorney who feels sorry for shoplifting Stanwyck (and what a piece she nabs!) after he requests a continuance for her case, causing her to be faced with jail time over the holiday. Softhearted Fred (who I'm sure noticed Barbara's gams in court) works it out with a bail bondsman to get the comely crook out until after the new year. Mistaking the attorney's intentions, the bondsman ~ accurately called 'Fat Mike' ~ gets Stanwyck out of jail and hauls her over to MacMurray's digs. Having been up this street before, the hard boiled dame plays along but the attorney on his way to his mother's farm for Christmas, is flustered and bumbling (as MacMurray does so well). Realizing Fred isn't the wolf she assumed, Babs wants to stay with him and with no where else to go, tags along with him to experience the down home, warm spirit of the season she'd never known before.

Made at Paramount Studio and directed by Mitchell Leisen, the film has alot going for it creatively. Leisen, one of the studio's top directors during this period, had a background in set and art direction and his attention to detail always showed in his films. The leisurely pace of some of the scenes allows for the viewer to linger over the scenario and take it all in to its full effect without being rushed. A fine example is the exchange between Stanwyck's Lee and MacMurray's Aunt Emma (Elizabeth Patterson) while dressing for a holiday barn dance. There isn't alot of dialogue between the two actors as Patterson helps Stanwyck into a corset and reminisces over her lost love of more than a quarter of a century, but the feeling is there and the pathos and sentiment is powerfully felt. One scene to which the pace is an extreme detriment in this blogger's eyes at least, is one played out by Stanwyck's defense attorney. His tirade of comic courtroom defense seems to go on as endlessly as a wedding toast given by the groom's boorish and long winded second cousin, once removed! This performance aside, the film is both charming and touching.

One noteworthy outcome of Remember the Night is the emergence of Preston Sturges as a writer/director. Upset that his script for the film was cut and jumbled about by director Leisen, he was determined to go out on his own to direct his own scripts. When Paramount gave him the chance later the same year, he did just that with The Great McGinty, winning an Oscar for his screenplay and establishing himself as a top talent in Hollywood. He was so impressed with Barbara Stanwyck that he told her that he would write a screwball comedy just for her and the following year did so with The Lady Eve. Leisen was also impressed with the ultra professional Miss Stanwyck and in one account claimed by the director, Stanwyck stayed tied up in all the tight fitting garb for the corset scene for over an hour just in case she was needed before her performance was required.

Along with Patterson's Aunt Emma, Beulah Bondi adds a homespun touch as MacMurray's loving and supportive mother. Always the eternal maternal (unless she played the eternal spinster, of course), Bondi is lighthearted and lays the groundwork for her portrayal of Ma Bailey in Capra's classic It's a Wonderful Life (1946). Sterling Holloway is a bit irritating as Willie, the lazy/hyperactive (depending on the circumstances) farm hand to the elder femmes, but taken into context, Bondi and Patterson help him carry his scenes to completion. MacMurray and Stanwyck, two personal favorites, make the film glide with charm, both of the humorous and sentimental variety. Among the numerous holiday films, both modern and classic, on exhibition this season, my hope is that Remember the Night is added to the must see repertoire of classic movie fans.

Meet John Doe (1941): Frank Capra Takes On Facism

Gary Cooper. Barbara Stanwyck. Frank Capra. All in their prime. What's not to like? Meet John Doe (1941) was made at a time when Hitler's reach was spreading throughout Europe and Capra, always the idealist, spoke to that reach through his film. With Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, made in 1939, the director ended his long term relationship with Columbia Pictures, a relationship which raised Columbia's standing in Hollywood significantly. Along with Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936), Mr. Smith formed the two legs of an unofficial trilogy which represented Capra's signature filmmaking during this period. Meet John Doe formed the third leg, with Gary Cooper in the role of the common, every-man, aptly given the moniker John Doe. Barbara Stanwyck has the role played in the previous films by Jean Arthur, the cynical career gal who is eventually won over by the honest, innocent rube.

The movie tells the story of Long John Willoughby (Cooper), a down on his luck bush league baseball pitcher with a bum arm. He is plucked from hoboville to personify the fictional irate citizen John Doe, created by newspaper columnist Ann Mitchell (Stanwyck). Per Ann's column, Doe, frustrated and disenchanted with society, threatens to jump off a high rise roof on Christmas Eve. After a deluge of response from those wanting to save/help Doe, Cooper is drafted as the disillusioned wretch incarnate. What starts out as a publicity stunt becomes a dark cloud over Cooper's conscience, when John Doe clubs are formed across the nation to spread his mantra of "Love Thy Neighbor" and the whole movement is threatened by a dark and ominous influence.

Cooper, relishing the opportunity of working with Capra again after their success with Deeds, signed onto the picture without seeing a script. This decision said alot for his enthusiasm to work with the director, as Cooper was riding high with a succession of recent hits and his Oscar winning Sergeant York, would be made the same year as John Doe. In turn, Capra wanted Cooper specifically for the lead role. The Capra-Cooper magic hit again with Doe, but not without a few snags. The film tends to get a little talky at times, such as when Cooper's eccentric hobo sidekick (Walter Brennan) goes on a tirade about the helots, his word for those who seek security and creature comforts and get caught up in the soft life. Capra gets a bit heavy handed with the lectures as well as with his classic "Capra-corn" sentiment, but what's wrong with a little sentiment, it hits all on some level.

As a Warner Brothers production being directed by Capra, the studio's reigning bombshell, Ann Sheridan was tagged for the Stanwyck role. Contract entanglements nixed the idea so thoughts roamed to Olivia de Havilland. When she didn't work out either, Stanwyck was cast. Always a good combination with Frank Capra, the gutsy Brooklyn born actress made several pre-Code films with the director at Columbia. Although not her best work, she and Cooper click and her obvious and immediate attraction to his character when they first meet is convincingly carried through the film. There is foreshadowed evidence of Elizabeth Lane, Stanwyck's character in 1945's Christmas in Connecticut, in her performance. As Lane's driving force is ownership of a stunning fur coat, the ambition of Stanwyck's Ann Mitchell is also grounded in material gain, much to her chagrin when her superficial desires interfere with her relationship with Cooper.

The supporting players are a veritable who's who of Hollywood's second tier. James Gleason as Stanwyck's cigar chomping, hard boiled newspaper boss. Walter Brennan as Cooper's crabby, harmonica playing side kick. Edward Arnold, wonderfully menacing as the power hungry Mussolini wannabe. Spring Byington as Stanwyck's good Samaritan mother. Regis Toomey as a small town soda-jerk, who with his wife, Ann Doran (oddly uncredited in a sweet and substantial performance) head one of the newly formed John Doe clubs. Even future cast members of Capra's classic It's a Wonderful Life (1946), Harry Holman and Sarah Edwards are on hand as Mayor and Mrs. Hawkins.

With no satisfactory ending agreed upon, several were filmed. Essentially this is one of the films flaws but doesn't detract from the overall quality of the movie. Though a tad overlong, Meet John Doe provides both an idealistic punch, as well as a great showcase for both its stars , particularly Gary Cooper. His quiet and simple approach to acting was used to perfect advantage and is a great complement to Stanwyck's brash city girl. Originally one of my "13 classic movies I've never seen but want to", I can happily say it is marked off my list in a most satisfactory way.

UPDATE: 13 Classic Movies I've Never Seen....But Really Want To

Several weeks ago, I posted a list of 13 classic films that had always intrigued me for one reason or another but which had eluded me over time, either by my own fault or merely the lack of access to the film. Thanks to a terrific friend, I am happy to say that I have now had the opportunity to watch some of the elusive movies on my list and thought I might share some of my thoughts pertaining to these swell flicks. This post is dedicated to that super classic film loving pal.

The Trail of the Lonesome Pine (1936) Sylvia Sidney, Henry Fonda, Fred MacMurray.

The Trail of the Lonesome Pine was the first film to be shot outdoors in full Technicolor. It focuses on the centuries old feud between two mountain families and how an outsider from the city, who comes to buy part of their lands for coal mining, affects their feud.

Initial appeal for me: I am attracted to Paramount films (which this is) from this era because unlike MGM and Warner Brothers productions, they are harder to find and the ones I have seen (many years ago on commercial television or AMC back in the day when it was a real "classics" channel) I enjoyed no end. Also, I am a fan of young Fred MacMurray, who I feel is underrated and overlooked in the movie actor market. Lastly, having known the backwoods theme of the film, I assumed it would have similarities to one of my alltime favorite movies, Shepherd of the Hills (1941), another Technicolor drama based on hillbilly lore.

My opinion: I really enjoyed The Trail of the Lonesome Pine. The color cinematography is gorgeous and the entire cast did a fine job. Having little knowledge of the films of Sylvia Sidney, the female star, her role as June was enough to ignite an interest in seeing more of her.

Hands Across the Table (1935) Carole Lombard, Fred MacMurray, Ralph Bellamy.

Queen of the Screwball Comedy, Lombard stars along with MacMurray in this fine example of the genre. Carole plays a gold digging manicurist who latches onto playboy Fred, the hitch is, she doesn't know he's broke.

Initial appeal for me: As with Sylvia Sidney, I have only seen a handful of Lombard's films in my time (through lack of access) and as earlier stated, I like the performances of young Fred MacMurray (Maid of Salem, Remember the Night). From the things I'd heard and read, Hands Across the Table seemed like a solid comedy and a good example of Lombard's work.

My opinion: The film was good. Not as good as other screwball classics but better than adequate for sure. I was glad to see Ralph Bellamy in a more sympathetic role rather than his usual buffoon second lead. MacMurray was charming as expected and Lombard was just great. Some of their comic antics were a little strained but overall a film that I'm glad I was able to see.

Mandalay (1934) Kay Francis, Ricardo Cortez, Lyle Talbot

Mandalay is a Kay Francis film through and through. Lurid melodrama which has Kay suffering and wringing her hands with costume changes galore for it's glamorous star (though Francis' character is anything but glamorous, Kay could be nothing but!). Francis plays a gal abandoned by her low life lover into what is essentially white slavery at a brothel/nightclub in Rangoon, Burma. When she decides to leave said life, it's not as easy as she may think. Just getting into distribution under the wire before the Production Code hit big time in Hollywood, it's a racy and risque bit of Kay Francis fun.

Initial appeal for me: I had heard of Mandalay for years as an excellent showcase for the always interesting Francis.

My opinion: The film was everything I expected and then some. Kay is great as Tanya/Spot White and Mandalay is a great example of what a Warner Brothers melodrama could be before the Production Code watered things down.

Forbidden (1932) Barbara Stanwyck, Adolph Menjou, Ralph Bellamy.

Like Mandalay, Forbidden is a pre-Code gem with one of that periods most solid performers, Barbara Stanwyck (Stanwyck would be a solid performer for decades). She plays a dowdy librarian (can you imagine!) who takes her life savings to go on a cruise and meets a married man whom she falls for....permanently.

Initial appeal for me: Always a big Stanwyck fan, her early 30's roles are some of the most compelling of the era. The film was directed by Frank Capra, who always puts on a good show and whose early pairings with Stanwyck were always interesting to me (Ladies of Leisure, The Miracle Woman). Add these elements to the fabulous pre-Code title of Forbidden and I was hooked.

My opinion: Forbidden, like Mandalay, had the adult subject matter and atmosphere that I assumed it would and I enjoyed it thoroughly. Not as much as some of Stanwyck's sassier early roles in films such as Ladies They Talk About or Baby Face, but very watchable nonetheless. Never a big Adolph Menjou fan, that opinion carries through here. I cannot understand Stanwyck's character's attraction to him, as I cannot understand the public's attraction to him as an actor. However, his casting is what it is and taking that fact with a grain of salt, he doesn't hurt the overall picture.

I still have the remaining 9 movies on my initial posting list to discover but I have high hopes for them as well as the many many other films that I yearn to see but fate has yet to allow me. Perhaps after I see a few more on this list I will post another with hard to find gems I can't wait to get my peepers on.

Review: Golden Boy

I've seen several reviews for 1939's Golden Boy that call it a "dated melodrama." Unfortunately, I am inclined to agree with them. I was actually looking forward to watching this, one of filmdom's most famous boxing themed pictures, and thought based on the personnel involved I would thoroughly enjoy it, as I'm a pretty big Barbara Stanwyck fan. But alas, no go.

It was a success on Broadway but much of the staginess translates to the screen. Columbia Studios supposedly wanted to borrow Tyrone Power from 20th Century-Fox to play the title role and John Garfield, over at Warner Brothers, was also very interested, but when the dust settled, it was a very young William Holden who won the part of Joe Bonaparte, a poor kid from rough and tumble New York whose love of the violin is sacrificed for the easy money and fame he gains from his natural abilities as a boxer. As his fight manager, Adolph Menjou does what Adolph Menjou does best. Plays a self absorbed, serio-comic cynic with hard boiled wise cracks aplenty. Stanwyck plays Lorna, Menjou's tough cookie girlfriend who gets taken for granted more than she'd like.

Although I like much of Holden's later work (Sunset Boulevard, Stalag 17) he just seems too green and inexperienced for the role. And as earlier stated, Barbara Stanwyck already had so many great performances under her belt, I expected her Lorna to be close to perfection. But I just couldn't believe that her hard edged moll could fall for a little hot head like Joe Bonaparte. Still, behind the scenes, Stanwyck took Holden under her wing, helped his career and they became lifelong friends.