A Kay Francis Double Feature: "Wavishing"

Most fans of classic movies know film divas of the 1930’s such as Bette Davis, Joan Crawford and Greta Garbo. They are iconic figures who more often than not, appear as caricatures of there original screen image. But among these movie queens, there is a name that hardcore cinephiles also recognize with as much stature in the deco era: Kay Francis.

A sultry brunette who was always dressed to the nines, Francis wrung her hands and suffered long in films at both Paramount and Warner Brothers studios during the Depression. She headlined both light comedies and heavy melodramas, with emphasis on the latter. Two prime examples of a “Kay Francis film” are featured below, the first from her early days at Paramount and the second during her tenure at Warners.

The Virtuous Sin (1930)
Is there such a thing as a virtuous sin? Kay seemed to think so in this very early talkie in which she co-starred with Walter Huston. Set in World War I Russia, it’s actually a bit hokey and kind of dated but since it’s a pre-code, there’s enough risqué hanky panky to make it fun.

Kay plays the wife of a medical researcher (Kenneth McKenna), an eager chap who is taken into the military against his will. His disgust of his current station leads to insubordination and eventually court martial. Sentenced to execution by his superior (Huston), our doctor friend is hopeless. Enter Kay, determined to save him no matter what it takes, even though she has admitted she isn’t deeply in love with him. She frequents a café cum bordello in an attempt to tantalize the general who sentenced her husband to die, hoping to “persuade” him to reverse his decision. So what does she do instead? She falls in love with him!

The Virtuous Sin is the kind of improbable melodrama that ran rampant in pre-code Hollywood. Hand to forehead tales with overacting styles that carried over from silent films. They are a hoot to watch though and rarely boring. As an interesting side note, Kay and costar McKenna carried on a torrid affair during filming which culminated in their marriage in early 1931.

Living on Velvet (1935)
Although not one of Francis’ better known or more notorious vehicles, Living on Velvet is a good example of the genre she starred in while at Warner Brothers. At her zenith, she was among the highest paid stars in Hollywood. At her lowest ebb at the studio, she was among the highest paid stars in Hollywood. You see, hers was an extremely lucrative contract and even when Warners thought her time had passed and gave her sub par scripts in hopes her ego would make her break said contract, she plugged along collecting her paychecks and becoming a very wealthy woman.

Living on Velvet gave her two leading men, George Brent and Warren William (though there was no doubt that Kay was the star). Aviator Brent loses his parents and sister in a plane crash in which he had piloted the plane. Guilty and reckless, he feels he is now ‘living on velvet’. When he meets Kay, it is love at first site for them both, although she is Warren’s girl. Kay marries George only to be plagued by his lackadaisical outlook about making a living and life in general.

Francis had worked with both George Brent and Warren William before and worked with Brent several more times before leaving Warners. Life was not velvet for William during this period. Once a leading man at the studio and on loan-out films like the previous year’s Cleopatra and the original Imitation of Life, Velvet relegated the actor to what was basically supporting status. Far from the suave and virile men he’d played earlier in the decade, he was a mere door mat for best friend Brent and girlfriend Kay to walk across on there way to the alter.

One notable scene from Living on Velvet has Brent’s character giving Francis a diction lesson. The star had a noticeable lisp, where her ‘r’s came out as ‘w’s. So much so that she was often teasingly called the “wavishing Kay Fwancis.” In their shared scene, George gives Kay a verbal exercise where she must repeat “around the ragged rocks the ragged rascal ran,” only Francis’ version went: “Awound the wagged wocks the wagged wascal wan.” Audiences found her self deprecation charming.

The actress continued making films after she left Warner Brothers in the late 1930’s, but her glory days were long behind her. A workhorse (she made 15 films in 1930-31 alone) as well as a clotheshorse (her costume changes were legendary), Kay Francis was also a true blue star.
For more information about the colorful Kay Francis, author Scott O’Brien has penned a fascinating biography entitled, Kay Francis: I Can't Wait to be Forgotten - Her Life on Film and Stage (linked below).

Three on a Match (1932): Everything a Pre-Code Should Be

Before Hollywood decided to censor itself in the mid 1930's with the Production code out of the Will Hayes office, vice ran rampant on the silver screen. Sex, violence, drugs, alcohol (even during Prohibition in the early 30's and before); all things tawdry and unseemly were displayed for the world to gawk at and enjoy with their popcorn. Of all studios, nobody showed the seedier side of pre-code films better than Warner Brothers. Paramount and MGM may have made sex and the post Jazz Age sparkle but Warners threw in grit and grime, and one of the best examples of their pre-code sizzle was Three on a Match (1932). The intriguing title is attributed to the notion during World War I that a single match lit long enough to light three soldiers' cigarettes could cause attack from enemy gunfire and the last to light up would be killed. However, it was later claimed that a match company started the superstition to increase its sales.

The three on a match are Joan Blondell, Ann Dvorak and Bette Davis, who play school girl acquaintances who meet up in adulthood having gone down very different paths. Mary (Blondell) was the girl who cut class to smoke with boys, went to reform school and is now a feisty showgirl (what else for the feisty Blondell). Vivien (Dvorak) was a stuck up priss who ended up in a swank boarding school and is now married to a wealthy attorney, Robert Kirkwood (Warren William). Lastly is Ruth (Davis), the studious one of the three who completes business college and is a career girl. There's alot of Valley of the Dolls in this story. The focus of the film remains on Vivien, a bored and spoiled wife of a rich man. When she rebuffs his amorous advances, he suggests she take a trip by herself (WHAT?). Instead she takes their young son Junior along and the two proceed on a European cruise. En route Vivien begins an affair with a slick and virile gambler, to whom she was introduced by school chum Mary. Viv leaves the ship with the thug, Junior in tow, at a European port. Frantic, Robert searches high and low for his family with no success until Mary gives him the information he needs to find them.

Third billed is 24 year-old Bette Davis, but don't be fooled, this is not a BD movie. Her diminutive role doesn't even rate the billing she receives. It's not her fault mind you, she does what she can with the weak material her character is given. Any accolades for acting must go to Ann Dvorak and Joan Blondell. Dvorak is rather lackluster in the first half of the film, as the spoiled, wandering wife of wealthy William, but as she descends into a pit of carnality and eventually drug addiction, she is splendid to watch. When she has hit rock bottom, with her illicit lothario, she is shown in the dingiest of flats, repeatedly wiping her cocaine addicted nose. Warren William plays the urbane, smooth character he did so well in films of the period. Forgotten by many today, both he and Dvorak offered interesting and dynamic characterizations in many pre and post code films.

In a small but forceful part is Humphrey Bogart. As one of the dozens of sinister hoodlums he portrayed before finally achieving stardom, Bogie doesn't disappoint. He leers and sneers and is just nasty through and through. Great stuff. Also in an early "heavy" role (pardon the pun) is the terrific Edward Arnold. Directed by the talented Mervyn LeRoy (I Am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang, The Wizard of Oz), one of the films greatest assets is its quick pacing and compactness. With a total running time of only 63 minutes, its short even for a picture of its period. But so much is packed into the 63 minutes that there is not time for a dull moment. Like other dramas of the pre-code era, the message is short but sweet ~ at least figuratively. A story could be told by cutting to the chase. The film's climax is powerful and chilling, a tour de force by Dvorak. There is nothing watered down here. No, I'm not going to spoil it for you , its something you must see for yourself.