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.

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.

Wuthering Heights (1939): I Am Heathcliff!

As yet another representative of Hollywood's golden year of 1939, when so many American films of high quality and popularity were produced, Wuthering Heights ranks in the upper echelons of that illustrious year. One of the fine productions of the late 30's by producer Samuel Goldwyn and director William Wyler, theirs was a superb match for quality artistic filmmaking, as was shown in their earlier collaborations, Dodsworth (1936), These Three (1936) and Dead End (1937).

Wuthering Heights is considered one of the great romantic films of classic Hollywood. Based on the 1847 novel by Emily Bronte, its literary roots were transferred to the screen by way of famed writing team Charles MacArthur and Ben Hecht with pre-directing days John Huston along for the screenwriting ride. The film only covers half of Bronte's book, leaving out the second generation's story completely. None the worse for the omission, Heights is a masterpiece of movie making and the winner of the New York Film Critics Circle for Best Film of 1939 ~ beating out Gone with the Wind and all the other timeless classics of that year.

With so many good aspects to the movie, one to note is the performance of Laurence Olivier. Years after the film was released, the actor credited William Wyler for helping him with his performance by reining in his stage method and taking a more subtle approach on film. It wasn't easy though and there were tensions on the set, both with Olivier and Wyler, as well as co-star Merle Oberon. Although Olivier's Heathcliff isn't an outstanding performance, it is his presence that so defines Wyler's variation of the role, not Bronte's. The film created a Gothic heartthrob, not necessarily a gypsy devil of the moors, as depicted by Bronte's book. It certainly created a star in Laurence Olivier, who followed his Heathcliff role up with yet another famous literary character, Maxim deWinter in Hitchcock's Rebecca the following year. He and Oberon are the definitive Heathcliff and Cathy, as this film is the definitive cinematic version.

The classic tale is set in 19th century England. It relates the story of Heathcliff, a dark and brooding gypsy boy, found starving in Liverpool by wealthy and kind hearted Mr. Earnshaw and brought to live with he and his children, Hindley and Cathy. Hindley, jealous of his father's love for the orphan, despises Heathcliff, while young Cathy loves the wild boy, and he in turn loves her. As they grow, the hate between Hindley and Heathcliff also grows, as does the love between Heathcliff and Cathy. Torn between her love for Heathcliff and the material pleasures offered to her through a marriage with a neighboring aristocrat, Edgar Linton (David Niven), Cathy confides to her housekeeper Ellen (Flora Robson) that it would degrade her to marry her low born lover, unaware that he is listening at the door. When Heathcliff runs away after this revelation, Cathy, realizing the mistake she has made, marries Linton and resides in comfort and luxury at the neighboring estate with her husband and his young sister Isabella (Geraldine Fitzgerald). After a significant time, the brooding and vengeful anti-hero returns, affluent and refined and ready to repay old grudges with blackhearted vengeance. After paying the mounted gambling debts accrued by the constantly drunken Hindley, Heathcliff buys his estate, Wuthering Heights, out from under him and allows him to remain there to be tormented. When he is rebuffed by the now married Cathy, even though she still loves him, he woos and marries young Isabella, only to make her and the rest of the complicated melange miserable.

British stage star Olivier wasn't so keen to play the role initially. Earlier experiences in Hollywood hadn't been particularly pleasant ones and even more, his then lover, Vivien Leigh, had been rejected for the role of Cathy in favor of Oberon, who was under contract to producer Goldwyn. Leigh was offered the lesser role of Isabella but rejected it as too dull (she went on later that year to play the greatest role Hollywood had to offer...Scarlett O'Hara). However, after re-reading the quality script and with encouragement from Leigh, Olivier accepted.

Famed cinematographer Gregg Toland's camera work takes a prominent place in the film's success. Deeply focus and expertly lit, this film was the precursor to his masterful work in 1941's Citizen Kane. Of his numerous Oscar nominations, including Kane, Toland's only win would come from Wuthering Heights. It was the first year the Academy divided the prize for both black and white and color work ~ Gone with the Wind won the color honor. Toland's cinematography was actually the only Academy Award won for the film, although it was nominated for a total of eight, including Best Picture, Best Director and the performances of Olivier and Fitzgerald.

Other versions of the famed novel have been filmed but none have come close to capturing the romance or aesthetic detail that the 1939 installment did. It made stars of its leads, increased the fine reputation of its creators and was wildly popular at the box office. In any other year, Wuthering Heights may well have been the picture of the season. Nonetheless, it is a classic to be revisited and enjoyed.

Review: Dead End (1937)

Dead End (1937) is hard core. If you didn't know it was produced by master film man Samuel Goldwyn, you would swear it was a Warner Brothers crime melodrama, in the manner of Angels With Dirty Faces (1938) and They Made Me a Criminal (1939). Why? Because all the elements are there, the dirty, gritty New York tenement neighborhood, the criminal element, both petty and professional, the struggle for survival under the harshest circumstances. Heck, it even has Humphrey Bogart as a sinister thug (always in his earlier days) and a gang of smart aleck young punks (the Dead End Kids, who were also featured in the afore mentioned films). However, as a few clues that it belongs to Goldwyn, it features Joel McCrea, a favorite in several Goldwyn films of the 1930's, in his regular good guy role. It also has William Wyler, Goldwyn's director of choice, at the helm.

Based on the successful play by Sidney Kingsley, Dead End is a story of abject poverty and the battle to survive in a decaying and filthy New York slum. The struggle is reflected even more vividly in the fact that the tenement is smack dab beside a luxurious high rise apartment on the Hudson River, the back entrance of which enters onto the back alley of the dead end poverty stricken street. There is nothing pretty or glamorous about the film, except actress Wendy Barrie, but even her story is ugly. Bogie is a wanted murderer, a nationally known criminal of the most dangerous order. He is back in his old neighborhood, the stomping ground of his hard and lawless youth, to see both his mother and his long ago paramour, neither of whom he's seen in over a decade. As the parable goes, he reaps what he has sown in this endeavour, as the mother (Marjorie Main, in a powerful early role), pitiful and careworn, wants absolutely nothing to do with him and tells him she wishes he were dead. His reunion with his old flame is no better. Though she is glad to see him, she is barely fit to be seen herself. Poverty and desperation have driven her into prostitution and she is in the final stages of syphilis, warning the gangster against even a lip kiss. She is played by Claire Trevor, who was nominated for a Best Supporting Actress Oscar, in what was an earlier and surprisingly short role (she only has one scene). Bogart's "Baby Face" Martin is a somewhat deeper character than most that he played at Warners during the same era. Still innately evil, there's a glimmer of another dimension in his affection for his mother and ex-lover.

Also on hand is Sylvia Sydney as poor working girl Drina. She is barely able to keep the heads of both she and her delinquent kid brother, Tommy (Billy Halop) above water. Drina is in love with Dave (McCrea) an educated native of the neighborhood, who can't find work as an architect so instead gets by on odd jobs. He in turn has become infatuated with Kay (Barrie), the mistress of one of the wealthy inhabitants of the luxury high rise. But romance is not the agenda of Dead End. It is merely one of the avenues which leads to dispair and the unfulfilled dreams of its characters. The setting of the film feels rather stagy, as the entire drama takes place in and around the decaying dead end street. Don't misunderstand, art director Richard Day did an outstanding job with the extremely realistic set, and instead of the claustrophobia of filth being a detriment, the single set lends to the enclosed and trapped feeling experienced on a daily basis by the inhabitants of the street.

Although Dead End finishes on a slightly higher note compared to the body of the film, the ending doesn't diminish the grimness of the overall theme. The power of both the story and of the performances by all involved shines through and endures long after its original release.

Review: The Little Foxes

"Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes". Song of Solomon, Chapter 2, verse 15. It was this biblical reference which acted as the on-screen prelude and general theme to one of the richest characterizations of avarice put to film. The Little Foxes tells the story of a prosperous family in the Deep South during the turn of the 20th Century, whose overwhelming greed and corruption, corrodes their already deteriorating clan.


The film was directed by legendary William Wyler, produced by legendary Samuel Goldwyn and starred legendary Bette Davis, who gives a masterful performance. But that being said, it's not necessarily a Bette Davis movie as say Dark Victory (1939) or Now, Voyager (1942) were. It's part Bette Davis movie, part William Wyler movie and part Samuel Goldwyn movie, all tied together with a screenplay by Lillian Hellman, authoress of the original play. Each of these creative powerhouses contributing his or her own expertise to conceive a film classic.

Hellman had brought her play to Broadway in 1939, starring the infamous stage actress Tallulah Bankhead in the juicy role of vicious Regina Giddens. The films director, William Wyler immediately wanted to cast Bette Davis as Regina. The two had worked together on two previous films, Jezabel (1938) and The Letter (1940), as well as allegedly having a torrid affair. Warner Brothers, Davis' home studio, never loaned their biggest star out to anybody. However, Jack Warner arranged to have her loaned out this one time as a trade for Gary Cooper, who he wanted to star in Warner's upcoming biopic Sergeant York (1941). It was the only time between 1934 and 1949, when her contract ended at Warners that the studio loaned her services out.

Davis, famous for tour de force, eye-popping, shoulder jerking performances, underplayed the role to great effect. Her Regina is cold and calculating as she and her equally greedy brothers (Charles Dingle and Carl Benton Reid) try to manipulate her gravely ill husband (Herbert Marshall) into investing money in a cotton mill venture that could make them all wealthy beyond their wildest dreams. She is a vision of controlled, steely determination, in the fine period dress and rice powder makeup provided for her by famed make-up artist Perc Westmore.

The film is visually sumptuous. Producer Samuel Goldwyn, well known for his use of high production values in his films, displayed these abundantly with lush interiors. Through architectural nuances, like bold archways and rich decor of dark wood and exquisitely upholstered furnishings, the old south aristocracy is brought vividly to life. As it does in many examples of director Wyler's work, the use of sweeping staircases creates a dramatic stage on which his actors perform, as well as a visual focal point, with much of the action taking place on or around the grand corridor. Master cameraman Gregg Toland uses deep focus photography to capture a sharp and realistic image, enhancing the intensity of the unfolding drama.

Besides Davis, the ensemble cast showcases some superb performances from Dan Duryea as Regina's lazy, imbecilic nephew Leo, Patricia Collinge as the pathetic, drunken Birdie and Teresa Wright, who, in her film debut, gives an Oscar nominated portrayal of Regina's naive but maturing daughter Zan. In all The Little Foxes received 9 Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture, Best Actress for Davis and Best Supporting Actress for both Wright and Collinge.