These Three (1936): It's a Lie! (or Is It?)

In many cases films of 1930's American cinema are very stylized, by that I mean they fall very squarely into a specific genre. Astaire/Rogers musicals follow a formula of boy meets girl meets dancing (charming boy, lovely girl, amazing dancing mind you). Shirley Temple movies were just that, perky Temple plunked down in the middle of a sweet and sentimental situation. Gangster thrillers were tough guys with tough talk and a lot of bullots in between. Much of the acting was over the top (wonderfully so in most cases) and many of the characters even more animated.

The collaboration of producer Samuel Goldwyn with director William Wyler created films during this period that, unlike the mainstream themed picture, were independent in spirit, exceptional in technical expertise. The first of the Goldwyn/Wyler successes was a very sophisticated adult drama called These Three (1936). Both powerful and compelling, the film was based on Lillian Hellman's debut play, The Children's Hour, a gripping look at the consequences surrounding a child's lie that her two schoolmistresses are lesbian lovers. Goldwyn bought the film rights to the play aware that the Hays board of Hollywood censors would never allow him to use either its title or its sapphic storyline. However, he hedged his bets by also hiring Hellman to write the screenplay. The lesbian angle was changed from sexual relations between the two female teachers to a heterosexual love triangle with one teacher allegedly committing an indescretion with the other's intended, a local doctor.

Hellman's play was partially based on a court case in 19th century Scotland and on Broadway it ran for 691 performances. It was a real heavy hitter and even with a somewhat "sanitized" version set for movie audiences, it packed a wallop as Hellman successfully tried to illustrate that the power of the story came from the damage a lie can create rather than the nature of the lie. The cast was headed by screen stars who would become Goldwyn regulars. Karen Wright and Martha Dobie, the slandered teaching duo were played by Merle Oberon and Miriam Hopkins respectively, while Joel McCrea was cast as the third leg of the titular triangle. All three gave fine performances, Hopkins and Oberon arguably the best of their careers. The physical and personality differances between "these two" complemented the picture. If Oberon had been paired with Kay Francis or Hopkins with Carole Lombard, there might have been an imbalance of sorts. Saying this however, it seems less likely that Oberon's elegant, soft spoken Karen and Hopkins earthy and somber Martha would become bosom chums as undergrads.

The supporting cast is outstanding. Catherine Doucet as Martha's worthless leech of an aunt. Marcia Mae Jones as a timid pupil, terrorized into complicity of the lie. Margaret Hamilton, whose small but notable role as a maid won't be forgotten. Alma Kruger as wealthy matron, Mrs. Tilford, whose influence in the community causes the downfall of the reputation of those involved and juvenille actress Bonita Granville. As the prepubescent monster Mary Tilford, Granville was as evil a villain as 30's audiences had experienced, giving Basil Rathbone, Lionel Atwill or Conrad Veidt a run for their sinister money. Her natural blond hair was darkened to convey a more threatening persona, but her strong performance required no such physical pretense and she was nominated at age 13 for a Best Supporting Actress Oscar, the first year the Academy offered the award (Gale Sondergaard won the prize that year).

The movie met critical acclaim including Britain's Graham Green who wrote: "I have seldom been so moved by any fictional film as by These Three. After 10 minutes or so of the usual screen sentiment, quaintness and exaggeration, one began to watch with incredulous pleasure nothing less than life." William Wyler remade the film 25 years later under its original title and with the original lesbian theme intact (and with Miriam Hopkins in the supporting role of Aunt Lily). It was a pale comparison to the '36 version, Wyler's direction and Hopkins' presence notwithstanding.

24 Hours (1931): A Full Day with Hopkins & Francis

Talented but temperamental actress Miriam Hopkins had the reputation of stealing scenes and chewing scenery throughout her prominent career. Her earliest days onscreen were no exception and as a bright and shiny new star at Paramount in the early 1930’s, she did not hide her light under a bushel. Making her film debut in 1930 in Fast and Loose with fellow Paramount pretty Carole Lombard ( Lombard had been in films for over half a decade by then), she had a hit in her second feature The Smiling Lieutenant (1931) co-starring movie novice Claudette Colbert. By her third film, she was the sure fire star of the show, even though Clive Brook and Kay Francis were billed above her. The film was called 24 Hours, and it was a prime example of pre-Code Paramount, with a great line-up of actors to boot.



Jim and Fanny Towner (Brook and Francis) are a wealthy yet bored couple who are each involved in an extramarital affair. Jim’s alcoholism doesn’t help the problem and he finds solace with his paramour Rosie Duggan (Hopkins), a brassy speak easy singer, who is married to a weak and neurotic small time hoodlum named Tony (Regis Toomey, whose 40 year screen career began the year before this film was made). Tony is on the skids after his wife has the bouncer at the club where she works, toss him out on his keyster. Later that evening, she carries the falling down drunk Jim home with her to see that he sleeps off his buzz. When Tony comes aknockin’ in the middle of the night, crazed look in his eyes, he accidentally kills the two-timing torch singer, while her sugar daddy is passed out in the other room. He beats it when he realizes what he’s done, as does Jim when he awakes the next morning and realizes he could be blamed for the chanteuse’s demise.



As much as a dramatic showcase 24 Hours is for Miriam Hopkins, Kay Francis has the tougher job of giving a more subtle yet still effective performance. To an extent she succeeds, but her character is written so that she has little more to do than look forlorn about the lack of love in both her marriage as well as her affair. Her dramatic glory days would come with her tenure at Warner Brothers a few years later, a working relationship that was both extremely profitable as well as turbulent for the raven haired star. British born Clive Brook worked in silent films for years and made the transition to sound successfully. He looks rather bored in the first half of this film, but I suppose that is his job, as he is bored with his life AND his wife. (Brook made a telling statement about his profession in America when he said: "Hollywood is a chain gang and we lose the will to escape. The links of the chain are not forged with cruelties but with luxuries."). Although given a small role, veteran stage actress Lucille LaVerne gives the audience a visual once-over as Tony’s slovenly and tough-as-nails landlady. I recognized immediately her voice as that of the old hag in Walt Disney’s animated masterpiece Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937). It was the last performance of her very lengthy career, and the one for which she is most associated, as the animators actually used the actress as a visual model for the crone.

Based on the novel Twenty-Four Hours by Louis Bromfield, the film is a lost gem, a part of Paramount’s film library, owned by Universal/MCA, most of which are unreleased to the general public. Copies aren’t easy to find and when they are, the quality sometimes has much to be desired, but if you do get a chance to gander the charms of the young Mesdames Hopkins and Francis, I’d jump at it.

Bette vs. Miriam, Bout of the Divas: Meow

About a year ago, I wrote a short piece on the legendary feud of two legendary Hollywood actresses, Bette Davis and Miriam Hopkins. Since then, I have expanded this forum and also, delved deeper into the abyss that was the Davis/Hopkins relationship. Bette was infamous for her battles with certain co-stars, male (paging Mr. Flynn! Mr. Errol Flynn!) as well as female (calling Joan Crawford!), but they seemed to pale in comparison to her feeling for Miriam Hopkins. Their’s was a deep seeded, long standing rivalry, which began even before either woman made a single movie.

Round 1
In 1928 both young actresses were in a stage production on the east coast called Excess Baggage. Both were part of a repertory acting company headed by director George Cukor, although at this point, unlike their future film pairings, Miriam, not Bette, was the big cheese. Hopkins also made leading lady status in Hollywood long before Davis, with star turns in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931) and Design for Living (1933), among other notable films of the early 30’s.



Round 2
In 1933, Hopkins starred in Jezebel on Broadway. It was the story of a tempestuous Southern belle (a part tailor made for the real life Southern spitfire) in the era before the Civil War, ala Scarlett O’Hara. The play was unsuccessful, running only a few dozen performances and closing after a month. Not only did Miriam star in the play, but she was part owner of the rights to it. When Warner Brothers studio showed interest in the story as a vehicle for its rising star, none other than Miss Bette Davis, Hopkins balked, refusing to sell the rights unless the deal included her in the lead role of Julie, which she had originated. In order to obtain the rights, she was given the impression that she would be cast, so when top brass gave the plum part to Davis, Miriam was livid. To add insult to injury, Bette won her second Oscar for her performance in Jezebel. The story goes that Miriam cried.

Round 3
In late 1938, with her career in somewhat limbo, Hopkins signed a two picture deal with Warner Brothers. The first film under her new contract was the historical melodrama The Old Maid (1939), based on an Edith Wharton story. In the film, she played second lead to guess who….Bette Davis, Warners reigning queen supreme. But neither actress was a shrinking violet and there was tension aplenty on the set, with director Edmund Goulding at the helm. A studio memo summed up the stressful situation when it relayed, “…Goulding has a tough job on this picture with these two girls. Not that they want to cause him any trouble or worry, but each one is fighting for a scene when they go into it…”

Davis had fought hard with the studio to get where she was professionally, and she wasn’t about to take guff from her rival. But Miriam certainly tried to get a rise out of her at any opportunity. On her first day on the set, Hopkins wore an exact duplicate of the dress Davis had worn in Jezebel. Davis reflected on this time with Hopkins in her autobiography with the following observations: “Miriam used and, I must give her credit, knew every trick in the book. I became fascinated watching them appear one by one…When she was supposed to be listening to me, her eyes would wander off into some other world in which she was the sweetest of them all. Her restless little spirit was impatiently awaiting her next line, her golden curls quivering with expectancy."



Warner Brothers publicity department took full advantage of the dueling divas and played up their feud to boost ticket sales for the upcoming film. They even went as far as to circulate a photo of the actresses in full costume with boxing gloves on, ready to duke it out, with director Goulding looking resigned between them. (above)

Round 4
During the making of The Old Maid, Hopkins was married to director Anatole Litvak. Litvak had directed Bette Davis in her follow up film to Jezebel called The Sisters (1938), and Miriam suspected the two were having an affair, but Davis was too taken with her Jezebel director, William Wyler, at the time to look at Litvak. However, reportedly Litvak and Davis DID have a short affair during the filming of All This and Heaven Too in 1940, but by that time the director and Hopkins had already divorced.

The Old Maid was excellent box office, and Warners signed Miriam on for another spin with her nemesis in 1943 to make Old Acquaintance, the story of two childhood friends/rivals who spar incessantly over men, career, and a child. The romantic yarn was perfect for the pair, but wasn’t without its backstage fireworks. Edmund Goulding was again slated to direct but had a heart attack shortly into the production. Knowing the emotional state of the set and the stress Goulding had been under with the two high maintenance queens, studio head Jack Warner jokingly accused him of having the heart attack on purpose. At 40, the dew was off the lily for Miriam, and when production wrapped on Old Acquaintance, she sold her house in California, packed her bags and went back east to the stage. When she returned to Hollywood, it would be in character roles over half a decade later.

Barbary Coast (1935): The Gangs of San Francisco?

In Edward G. Robinson's autobiography, he relates his on-set relationship with his co-star Miriam Hopkins, during the filming of their joint venture, Barbary Coast (1935). According to Robinson (and many others through the years), Hopkins was a diva extraordinaire, snobby, impossible to deal with and constantly late to the set, making cast and crew wait to prove she was the true star of the film. When Robinson finally called her on her behavior, she egged him on to give it all he had in an upcoming scene were he was supposed to slap her. When the time came, he did just that and received a roaring burst of applause from the entire crew. So was the backstage atmosphere for Barbary Coast.

The film was inspired by a book called The Barbary Coast: An Informal History of the San Francisco Underground by Herbert Asbury, who also authored The Gangs of New York. The latter story was a gritty period piece which was famously filmed in 2001 by director Martin Scorsese and starred Daniel Day-Lewis, Leonardo diCaprio and Cameron Diaz. While the story lines of the movies do not mirror one another, there are similarities; older, darker bad guy (Edward G. Robinson/Day-Lewis), younger romantic guy (Joel McCrea/diCaprio) and blonde cutie (Miriam Hopkins/Diaz), all gathered within a lusty, boisterous male driven setting almost two centuries ago. But this is not a comparison of the two films, merely an acknowledgement that they are based on work by the same author.

Producer Samuel Goldwyn had read the Barbary Coast story and wanted to film it as early as 1933. At one point the film was thought to be a comeback film for silent star Gloria Swanson and Goldwyn also contemplated it as a vehicle for his European "discovery" Anna Sten (his answer to Garbo) and Gary Cooper, but when the first few pictures Sten did for the producer flopped, he backed off. The final verdict was Miriam Hopkins and Joel McCrea, Goldwyn regulars in the mid 1930's. Robinson, borrowed from Warner Brothers, rounded out the starring cast. Noted director Howard Hawks was set to oversee the film, while the renowned writing team of Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur handled the script.

The story isn't an extremely complicated one. Mary "Swan" Rutledge comes to old San Francisco during the famed Gold Rush of the 1840's, with its muddy streets and rugged, dangerous atmosphere, as a mail order bride for a wealthy saloon owner. She finds instead that her "beloved" has been murdered and his fortune overtaken by rival Luis Chamalis (Robinson). Intent on getting her share of the dead man's money, she cozies up to the loud and barbaric Chamalis, who puts her in his place, the Bella Donna, running a crooked roulette wheel. She is content to make money and be the belle of the ball (one of the few white women in Frisco at the time) when she accidentally meets up with a poety readin', deep thinkin', nice lookin' prospector named Jim (McCrea). Drawn to Jim but not daring to hope they could be together due to what kind of gal she is/has become, she goes back to her roulette wheel, Jim none the wiser. On his way out of town, Jim stops in at the Bella Donna to find Swan in her Jezebel garb and men aplenty. She gets embarrassed, he loses his gold and Chamalis gets suspicious. Enough for now, no spoilers here.

Miriam Hopkins may have been a prima donna both on-screen and off but her career was in high gear during the filming of Barbary Coast. She had just finished making Becky Sharp, based on Thackeray's Vanity Fair, which was notable in film history as the first feature ever filmed in full Technicolor. For her efforts in Sharp, she would be nominated for a Best Actress Oscar and begin her rich association with Goldwyn. Joel McCrea, always a favorite in Hollywood, didn't have much to do in the film except look attractive and let Robinson chase him around. Still his good guy persona stood him well and his career continued to flourish. Also cast was Walter Brennan, an extra and bit player for years. According to the Howard Hawks biography, "The Grey Fox of Hollywood", Brennan went to his audition and asked "With or without", to which he was asked, with or without what. He was talking about his dentures and did the test without his falsies. He not only gained the role but the part was gradually expanded until he ended up with fourth billing! As another example of his continued success, Brennan was awarded the very first Best Supporting Actor Oscar the following year for his role in Come and Get It. Brian Donlevy is another up and coming wannabe who gained great success after appearing in Coast as Robinson's henchman, Knuckles (boy was he a chipper chap).

With the production values afforded a Goldwyn picture, the tight direction of Hawks and the fiery performances of Hopkins and Robinson, Barbary Coast is a very worthwhile flick. Catch it if for no other reason than to see Edward G. with muttonchop sideburns, fluffy, puffy shirts and a single dangling earring. A long way he is from the milquetoast in Scarlet Street for sure.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1932): Hyde and Hopkins at Halloween

As Halloween approaches, the blogosphere will be filled with words and images devoted to the celebration of this much lauded holiday. As far as film blogs go, there is much fodder for this fun filled fright fest. Although I enjoy the Universal horror set as much as the next guy and one couldn't get more delightfully creepy than Vincent Price, I wanted to spotlight a film from a studio that was the least likely to have a reputation for scary flicks.

Paramount in 1931 was home to stars such as Gary Cooper, Marlene Dietrich and Claudette Colbert. European elegance and sophistication displayed by directors like Ernst Lubitsch became the studio's trademark. So it was unlikely that one of their top productions that year would be an installment of the scary supernatural genre. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, premiering on December 31, 1931 but generally released after the New Year, was based on Robert Louis Stevenson's story of a Victorian physician who discovers a formula which releases the dark, uninhibited side of his human nature. The sinister side, known as Hyde, is attracted to a sluttish dancehall singer while the refined and genteel Dr. Jekyll (pronounced in this version as Jee'kyll) is engaged to a mild mannered young society lady.

Arguably the best of the three famous film versions of the tale (a 1920 silent with John Barrymore and an opulent 1941 version from MGM starring Spencer Tracy), it stars Fredric March as Jekyll/Hyde, a role which garnered the actor his first Academy Award (for which he tied with Wallace Beery in The Champ). By way of early but impressive special effects and the artistry of make-up whiz Perc Westmore, the handsome March was transformed into the hideous Mr. Hyde, the carnal, brutal, decadent essence of the human dark side. This image, along with that of Lon Chaney's Phantom, Karloff's Frankenstein's monster and Lugosi's Dracula, shape the iconic image of Hollywood monsters from the early film era.

As much as Jekyll launched Fredric March into full fledged stardom, it pushed female lead Miriam Hopkins one step closer. Originally interested in the refined fiancee of Jekyll ( a role which was played by Rose Hobart), she was convinced by director Rouben Mamoulian to take the risque role of prostitute Ivy Pearson, object of Hyde's desire. With the enforcement of Hollywood's Production Code still a few years away, Hopkins' performance was quite raw and erotic and her stock in films increased considerably after her role in the film. Later the same year she would star in one of the decades most sophisticated comedies, Trouble in Paradise.

Mamoulian was an intelligent, innovative and creative director and these traits were very evident in Jekyll/Hyde. His is a very stylized production, with elaborately detailed Victorian sets, effective use of black and white as colors and several elements of the creepy kind: the camera taking in the view from Dr. Jekyll's eyes at the beginning of the film, straight on close ups of the actors faces in various forms of emotion and enthusiastic organ music, such as not heard since the Phantom of the Opera. Fine performances are given by all the principal actors and Karl Struss' excellent cinematography was nominated for an Oscar as was the writing of Percy Heath and Samuel Hoffenstein, who adapted the Stevenson classic. The mix of horror and eroticism make Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde a unique and intriguing alternative to the standard spooky fare offered the classic movie lover this All Hallows Eve. Enjoy.

Review: The Story of Temple Drake

My first connection with The Story of Temple Drake (1933) was a still photo of one of the scenes from the film in a coffee table book of Hollywood films that I owned as a young teenager. The picture is almost black, the only light coming from a small oil lamp in the dingiest of decaying rooms, and being illuminated by this tiny flicker are actresses Miriam Hopkins, Florence Eldridge and a rickety old metal frame bed. Both females look haggard and much the worse for wear. The photo fascinated me. I had no idea what the film was about but it looked like a really creepy horror movie. Intrigued, I dug a little deeper and found The Story of Temple Drake was based on a 1931 William Faulkner story called Sanctuary. So off I went to the local library and checked out a musty smelling, decades old edition of Faulkner's story. With each page that turned my eyes widened. At fourteen, I had seen and read some racy stuff but not something under the guise of high literature! It was years before I actually got to view Temple Drake and it was definitely worth the wait.

Temple Drake is a wild buck of a girl who lives during Prohibition in the Deep South. She is a well to do debutante and granddaughter of a wealthy and influential local judge. Of her many beaux (the word fits perfectly in this part of the film) is a young and devoted attorney, Steven Benbow, of whom her grandfather heartily approves. "you know Steven," he says to the young suitor, "I'd feel better about Temple, if I knew she had someone steady and reliable like you to take care of her...She's a good girl, Steven." In the next scene, we see Temple, hair and evening dress disheveled, sneaking into the house she shares with her grandfather at four o'clock in the morning and giddily saying good night to a man who in NOT Steven. The next time we see the saucy wench she is doing some passionate necking in a convertible with her frat boy paramour. But instead of a tramp, we find out that Temple Drake is just a big tease who likes to get the fellows all hot and bothered. She's the belle of the ball. The first fifteen minutes of the film could have served as Miriam Hopkins', who plays Temple, screen test for Scarlett O'Hara, a role for which she was considered.

As the film progresses, our girl Temple and her drunken boyfriend are involved in an auto accident on a back road after leaving a country club dance. When they come to in the darkness, they are approached by a couple of shady figures, one of which ogles Temple with his flashlight, shining the torch from top to toe on her figure. With a major rainstorm approaching, the two are taken to a dilapidated, crumbling, isolated old plantation house where Temple is greeted with the leering and lecherous eyes of a group of bootleggers who use the house as their hideout and operations center. Among the group is a lone woman, the bitter, careworn moll of one of the thugs, whose baby is kept in the wood box so "the rats don't get it." She does her best to keep the men from literally ripping the dress off Temple's body. With the help of an inbred, half witted man-boy, Temple is kept safe in the barn. The next morning she awakes from a restless night in a horse stall, to find the meanest, most menacing of the goons, Trigger, coming toward her. When the half wit tries to help, Trigger shoots and kills him (They don't call him Trigger for nothing). He then rapes and kidnaps Temple, taking her to a bordello called Miss Reba's place, in Memphis.

The Story of Temple Drake is a lost pre-Code masterpiece. When the Production Code finally took effect, the year after the film's release, Joseph Breen, the Codes administrator, wouldn't allow it to be re-released and it didn't get back into circulation for decades. It is truly one of the most adult films of the era, even though a watered down version of Faulkner's tale (in the book, Trigger's character is impotent and rapes Temple in the barn with a corn cob!). The scenes at the bootleggers coven are by far the best. They are dark, somber and weird. Hopkins' Temple is truly horrified while at the same time fascinated with all the depravity around her. She finds herself drawn to Trigger's machismo, no matter how fearful she is. The feel of the pre-Depression, rural South is exuded very effectively. Hopkins, a Georgia native, uses her most authentic drawl as the over-ripe belle who goes from getting her way in all life's aspects, to becoming the sex slave of an oily hoodlum. Cinematographer Karl Struss makes an effectual use of close ups between Hopkins and a cigarette lipped Jack LaRue, who plays Trigger, when denoting upcoming intercourse.

Full praise must go to Miriam Hopkins. As Temple, she uses the full range of the multi-emotional bag of acting tricks for which she is famous. But unlike many of her later roles, she doesn't have to go over the top to prove she is the star of the show. That's definitely a given. She has a pre-Code sexiness that is lacking in her films of the late 30's and 40's. Jack LaRue's Trigger is both overtly masculine and alarmingly dangerous. Finally as Ruby, the white trash bootlegger's woman (its never established that they are married), Florence Eldridge (Mrs. Fredric March), gaunt and wan, reeks of world weariness and exhaustion. Merely surviving and keeping her man take all the energy she can muster.

Any pre-Code or Miriam Hopkins fan who has never seen The Story of Temple Drake is in for a wonderful treat. The raw earthiness of this lurid tale combined with skilled film making create a rare gem of early 30's American cinema. The film was remade in 1961 under the original Faulkner title, Sanctuary, but it doesn't hold a candle to this little seen classic.

 

The Bette Davis Feuds: Round 2, Hopkins

Bette Davis won a second Academy Award for her performance as a spoiled southern belle in Jezebel in 1938 and it is said that Miriam Hopkins cried. The southern born Hopkins had played the plum role of Julie on Broadway and had hoped to play it in the film version at Warner Brothers. Losing the part to Davis was only the tip of the iceberg.

The same year that Jezebel was released, Davis made The Sisters with Errol Flynn. The director was Anatole Litvak and he and leading lady Bette were reportedly having an affair. Mrs. Litvak at the time was none other than Miriam Hopkins. Never a shrinking violet, Hopkins was livid.

The following year the two rivals were cast together in The Old Maid, a story about, what else, two women in love with the same man. Hopkins, a notorious scene stealer, was constantly trying to upstage Davis. Warners played on the star studded cat fight to build publicity for the film. Four years later they would do it all again in Old Acquaintance, where they played professional and yet again romantic rivals. Talk about life imitating art.