CLFP: SWING HIGH, SWING LOW (1937)

carole lombard

A mix of light comedy and dark drama defines Swing High, Swing Low, the third movie to team Carole Lombard and frequent co-star Fred MacMurray and the only one that might be classified as a drama. At the beginning we see what looks to be a screwball comedy in the vein of the team’s earlier Hands Across the Table, until the story takes a complete turn in the second half during which it proceeds to deal with large themes such as divorce, fallen stardom, and alcoholism in an unusually frank manner.

Maggie (Lombard), young stowaway on a ship to California via Panama is courted by Skip (MacMurray), a young soldier on his final day of the army, and she reluctantly agrees to go on a date with him at a local Panamanian bar. After a brawl between the soldier and a local caballero, they land in court and while humorously trying to break the language barrier they keep getting fined more and more money for contempt. During their struggle they hear Maggie’s boat leaving, and she is stuck in Panama and forced to move in with Skip and his musician roommate until the next boat. She discovers Skip’s talent for the trumpet and encourages him to play professionally. The three of them form a small group with the roommate playing the piano, Skip playing trumpet, and Maggie singing at the bar, where there is also a sensual dancer by the name of Anita Rodriguez (Dorothy Lamour) who has her eye on Skip. By this time, Skip and Maggie have fallen in love and marry, Maggie leaving her desire to stow away on the next ship to California.

Skip receives an offer to go to New York to play at the El Greco, and leaves a forlorn Maggie behind in Panama. She writes him every day, but never receives a reply. Eventually she sails to New York to find him, and learns that Anita also appears in Skip’s show at the El Greco. Suspecting infidelity, she calls Anita’s room at the hotel and her worst fears are confirmed when Skip answers the phone. She writes him a letter informing him of her intention to get a divorce, and this sends Skip into a deep depression. He loses his job at the El Greco, and turns to alcohol to numb his pain. He tries to rejoin the army, but they won’t take him due to his alcoholism. His old roommate tries to get his career back on track with a radio spot for their old band, and the program director contacts Maggie who has just returned from getting the divorce in Paris to see if she would help. Hearing Skip’s plight, Maggie goes to find him and the band plays together again with Skip leaning on Maggie for support, ending the film on a hopeful note for Skip’s future.

The issue of divorce was a tricky one in the 1930′s, and most movies that deal with divorce during that period end with the decree not going through. Swing High, Swing Low is different. Not only does Maggie obtain the divorce that she sought, but she does not romantically involve herself with Skip again in the end. Instead, Maggie is shown as a sympathetic character who was correct in filing for divorce from the man who wronged her, but who has the dignity and confidence to care for him when he is in need. This greatly surprised me as not only does it validate divorce, a very risky move under the code, but it also validates a woman’s judgment regarding the infidelity of a man and paints her as the man’s saving grace at the end, instead of the reverse.

This is certainly not the best of Lombard and MacMurray’s four pairings, but to me it may be the most interesting due to the thematic switch halfway through and the gender role reversal that ends the film. The acting by MacMurray is marvelous, and Carole Lombard is given the ability to show her talent for both screwball comedy and for drama. Given the versatility she showed in her movies I often think that if Carole Lombard had lived longer, she may have proven to be one of the most versatile actresses of her day, equal to the likes of Irene Dunne and Barbara Stanwyck. A poignant thought.

See you next time!

What Happened at the 23rd Academy Awards?

As the Academy Awards are broadcast from Hollywood, Gloria Swanson anxiously awaits the announcement of Best Actress.

On a whim yesterday, I removed my trusty VHS of Sunset Boulevard from its spot in my movie library (organized alphabetically, by year) and put it in for an  impromptu viewing. Sunset Boulevard is one of those movies with everything–flawless plot, perfect script, skillful directing, and tour-de-force acting by Gloria Swanson, whose portrayal of fictional fallen screen star Norma Desmond, whose life has unraveled to the point of insanity, is one for the ages. As a friend of mine puts it, “Gloria Swanson tore her heart out and bled that role.”

Rightly, she was remembered in the Best Actress Oscar nominations for 1950, along with Bette Davis (All About Eve), Judy Holliday (Born Yesterday), Anne Baxter (All About Eve), and Eleanor Parker (Caged).

All About Eve is similar to Sunset Boulevard in many ways. Both were directed by writer-directors (Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s script for All About Eve is a phenomenal triumph, and Billy Wilder’s script with Charles Brackett for Sunset Boulevard is famous for being the pair’s last collaboration) and both deal brutally with the issues of stardom as one ages. The main characters are stubborn and vulnerable larger-than-life personalities. We are led to realize the unfairness in life that has been dealt to them–where Norma Desmond’s fragile mental state leads those close to her (namely her strangely devoted butler Max) to treat her with kid gloves, no one takes Margo’s guff and it is assumed that she can take care of herself–when in reality she is in desperate need of protection.

Hollywood loved its own. It was going to be either Bette Davis or Gloria Swanson, no one else had much of a chance.

But when the announcement was read, there was an upset.

So what happened?

I think the nomination of two actresses portraying similarly themed characters, both giving the performance of their respective careers, was too much for that year. The votes were split down the for Davis and Swanson, relegating each of them to the minority allowing Judy Holliday to win with the “outlier” votes. Essentially, 1950 was so good, it backfired.

Now don’t get me wrong, I think Judy Holliday was brilliant in Born Yesterday. It remains one of my favorite movies of 1950, and Judy Holliday was what made it. Check out this wonderful scene of her playing cards, and the subtle expressions and physical movements that drive the scene. I apologize for the poor quality, but it’s very much worth watching.

Had this been any other year, I would have applauded Holliday’s win, but it was an inappropriate result for a category that included Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard and Bette Davis in All About Eve.

I would like to pose the question to you, readers–what are your opinions on the 23rd Academy Awards? Who do you think should have won? What do you think happened? Leave a comment in the comments section and let’s discuss it!

I look forward to reading your comments!

Remembering Katharine Hepburn

Today, May 12, would have been the 106th birthday of the great Katharine Hepburn.

I often struggle trying to describe Katharine Hepburn, as mere adjectives don’t seem to suffice, and empty superlatives would have bored her. To say she was a woman ahead of her time would be stating the painfully obvious, and to say she was the best American actress of all time is something that has been stated again and again since her official inclusion on the American Film Institute’s “100 Years, 100 Stars” list, filling the #1 spot. I will not rehash any of that here, as it has all already been said.

People adore her, bow down to her, and put her on a cinematic pedestal as a standard to which we should all strive. I fear that if idolized to the point of mythology, the Katharine Hepburn who prided herself on being a real, grounded, salt-of-the-earth woman will cease to be. Hence, instead of tripping over myself trying to celebrate Katharine Hepburn in words, I will let her clips speak for her.

Happy birthday, Kate.

This is perhaps my favorite scene in any of Katharine Hepburn’s movies.

Despite winning a record 4 Academy Awards, this is Katharine Hepburn’s only appearance at the Oscars.

And here is one of Hepburn’s interviews, of which she had only a handful. Note in the first video that Hepburn is essentially overhauling the entire set, but no one complains. They are putty in the hands of a legend. I am hard pressed to think of someone today who could command this type of complete deference.

THE GREAT ZIEGFELD (1936): A Fitting Epic

Between the years 1907 and 1931, the Ziegfeld Follies were the toast of New York. The lavish entertainment spectacle that featured beautiful girls in beautiful gowns was wildly popular among New York’s high society, as was its creator, Florenz Ziegfeld, whose life was as decadent as his shows.

How fitting that in 1936, at the height of the Great Depression, Metro-Goldwyn Mayer (known for removing its audience from their current financial woes with its own lavish musical productions) decided to create a large-scale biopic about the lavish and luxurious life of Florenz Ziegfeld. The 3-hour exploration of Ziegfeld’s loves and losses simultaneously reminds viewers of what life was like when people had money to spare, and acknowledges the problems of the present. Several former Ziegfeld performers appear as themselves in the film, notably Ray Bolger and the legendary Fanny Brice (from whom we hear a few measures of her signature song, “My Man,” but the camera cuts away and the rest of the song is lost. A disappointing cinematic choice, in my opinion!) A reminder that Florenz Ziegfeld was essentially left for broke when the stock market crashed in 1929 resonated with audiences in 1936, still reeling from the stock market crash 7 years prior, as well as audiences of the present day. Ultimately we are reminded that our luxuries are temporary, and that we should not take anything for granted.

William Powell and Luise Rainer as Florenz Ziegfeld and Anna Held.

The story hinges mostly on Ziegfeld’s common law marriage to Anna Held, a Polish-French stage performer, portrayed in the film by Luise Rainer. Ziegfeld (William Powell) is painted as a perpetual ladies’ man, and his line of work certainly doesn’t curtail his propensity for chasing women. Anna tolerates it to a point, but when Ziegfeld is seen kissing a drunk chorus girl, she leaves. Despite his indiscretions, the film makes it clear that she still loves him. Ziegfeld subsequently becomes involved with Billie Burke (Myrna Loy) and when he marries her, Anna is heartbroken.

Luise Rainer won the 1936 Academy Award for Best Actress for her role as Anna, and it is widely said that her scene congratulating Ziegfeld on the telephone was what secured the award for her. Though it is a brilliant and beautiful scene with magnificent acting by Rainer, for me it is the few seconds just before she gets on the phone that stand out as the most emotional moment of the film. The character is miserable, anxious, and shaky, and the emotion exuded by Rainer is raw and shockingly real.

Ziegfeld’s romance and marriage Billie Burke is the most celebrated of all Ziegfeld’s exploits, but gets the least amount of attention in the film. The character of Billie Burke doesn’t come in until 2 hours into the movie, and the exploration of Burke and Ziegfeld gets about half an hour of screen time. The birth of their child is completely glossed over (suddenly the audience is confronted with a 4-year-old child who was never mentioned previously, and is left to the task of deducing that this is the child of Burke and Ziegfeld), and it seems that Metro was in a hurry to get this expensive picture wrapped at the expense of the continuity of the plot.

Nonetheless, the last few minutes of the film, depicting Ziegfeld in the throes of bankruptcy and severely ill, is full of poignancy and in itself a representation of the American identity in the 1930′s. Ziegfeld himself, in many ways, represented the 1920′s. Extravagant, joyous, devil-may-care, his attitude was reflected in the overarching sentiment of the country. The stock market crash ruined Ziegfeld just as it ruined the spirit of the 1920′s, and the vision of this symbol of extravagance and luxury lying on his deathbed is one that holds a double meaning for audiences. The film ends as Ziegfeld has a vision of his Follies for one last time–before the flower he is holding drops to the ground.

The film is extremely long, but doesn’t particularly feel that way until the plot begins to speed about 45 minutes before the film’s end. Beautiful performances all around, and I feel that Myrna Loy’s portrayal of Billie Burke could have been a lot more exposed had the studio taken the time to expand the end of the film a bit. Myrna Loy’s high, sweet voice with just a hint of the flitty quality to it that defined Billie Burke’s, it is clear to me why they chose Myrna for the role.

The year after her Academy Award win for The Great Ziegfeld, Luise Rainer starred in The Good Earth with Paul Muni, for which she was nominated for another Academy Award…and won again. This gives her the distinction of being the first person ever to win 2 consecutive Academy Awards. The feat is matched by only 3 other people in history: Spencer Tracy (Captains Courageous, Boys Town) Katharine Hepburn (Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, The Lion in Winter), and Tom Hanks (Philadelphia, Forrest Gump). Rainer later remarked “It was the worst thing to ever happen to me!” Indeed, Rainer worked very little after her Oscar wins due to her refusal to be typecast, and left Hollywood in 1938
to work on the stage. She retired to London, England, where she still lives, having recently celebrated her 103rd birthday. She lives a semi-quiet retired life, but made an appearance at the first annual TCM Classic Film Festival, on the occasion of her 100th birthday.

Here are some pictures of the real Florenz Ziegfeld, Billie Burke and Anna Held. See you next time!

Anna Held.

Ziegfeld with Billie Burke

The real Billie Burke with Myrna Loy.

 

A Brief Housekeeping Note…

Hello readers, Lara here to bring you an update on Backlots’ social media presence.

As some of you may have noticed, the Facebook page had a technical issue for quite some time which prevented posts from appearing. However, I am proud to report that the page is back up and running! If you have not yet “liked” Backlots on Facebook, be sure to do so. Now that the page has returned to full functionality, I am going to be posting some fun stuff on the page each day.

You can scroll down to find the link to the Facebook page on the right hand side of this site, or simply click here.

Thanks for your patience, and see you on Facebook!

Deanna Durbin, 1921-2013

We have lost another legend. Deanna Durbin died a few days ago, in her Paris home at the age of 91.

If I were to characterize Deanna Durbin in any way, I would say that she was like a bright comet streaking through Hollywood. She did not stay long–she left Hollywood for married life in France before her 30th birthday–but her presence is still talked about with wonder. She was a child prodigy and a genius, it is said that her young operatic voice has influenced such musical luminaries as Kiri Te Kanawa and cellist Mstislav Rostropovich.

She was born Edna Mae Durbin, and came to Hollywood from her native Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, as a baby. She began singing lessons at the age of 10 and by the time she was 14 she was considered a prodigy, securing a contract with MGM Studios. Her first film appearance was in a 10-minute short called Every Sunday, opposite another unknown by the name of Judy Garland.

She was soon transferred to Universal where she established herself as the darling of the lot and a musical force to be reckoned with. In late 1936, taken with Durbin’s talent, the artistic director of the Metropolitan Opera offered her a position with the company. Durbin did not take it, humbly asserting that she needed more singing lessons. But upon viewing her operatic performances on film, one certainly sees a seasoned singer of enormous capabilities.

Her first two marriages ended in divorce, but upon marrying producer Charles David, and after only 26 movies, she left Hollywood abruptly and moved to Paris. She had always disliked the studio system and fiercely defended her privacy through the years, maintaining almost complete anonymity after her marriage to David. Few knew her whereabouts, and only a select few people would receive answers to fan mail.

I often considered writing Deanna, as I have a bit of a connection to her. My paternal grandmother, who died before I was born, was married to a record producing agent in the 1930′s and, for a time, lived across the street from Deanna Durbin. They considered each other close friends and confidantes, and often spent time together when Deanna was not at the studio. Though I don’t think they kept in close touch after my grandmother moved away, due to Deanna’s busy schedule, I often thought of writing to remind her of her friendship with my grandmother. I deeply regret not doing it now.

I am glad that Deanna went her way, on her own terms, and without the hoopla that often accompanies celebrity deaths nowadays. It was quiet, personal, and befitting a woman who deserved our utmost respect.

The most recent picture I have seen of Deanna, beautiful at any age.

LIVE FROM THE TCM CLASSIC FILM FESTIVAL DAY 4 (Closing Day): “Gilda,” Women of Early Hollywood, “It Happened One Night,” “The General,” Closing Night Party

Well readers, the 2013 TCM Classic Film Festival has come to a close. It has been a busy and very exciting 4 days, and your author is at once exhilarated, exhausted, and ready for next year!

In my humble opinion, this 4th day held the best lineup of the festival. Gilda was first on the agenda at the Egyptian Theatre, and though I had seen it on the big screen once before I was all too eager to see it again. The movie tells a story that is complex and hard to follow, but in all truth, the movie is not about the story. The audience is too busy watching Rita Hayworth to have any time for following a plot anyway. It is the ultimate noir, almost a caricature of the genre, and it really seems as though everything  that happens when Rita Hayworth is offscreen is just filler. Rita is the heart and soul of the movie, and because of her, the film is considered to be one of the great noir films of all time. Instead of trying to describe Rita in this movie with words, I will give you some clips so that if you haven’t seen this film, you will see what Gilda is all about.

Hayworth’s performance is rendered even more stunning when one examines who she was offscreen. By all accounts sweet, quiet, and timid, Rita Hayworth was the antithesis of the character of Gilda. She only gave a handful of interviews in her life due to paralyzing shyness, and Louella Parsons (who had met Rita as a teenager just starting her career) noted that she could barely look strangers in the eye. Here she is sultry, sexy, steamy, and an all-around tiger with every man she meets. Suffice it to say, I am of the opinion that Rita Hayworth was robbed of an Oscar nomination for this role.

Our next event happened in Club TCM, a discussion with Cari Beauchamp about women writers in early Hollywood, focusing specifically on Frances Marion. Beauchamp has produced a documentary on Frances Marion, and offered fascinating insight into who she was as a woman, as a writer, and as a member of a fledgling industry. Marion was extremely prolific–one surprising trivia bit Beauchamp related was that out of the 9 pictures nominated for Best Picture at the 1st Academy Awards, Frances Marion had written 7 of them. She eventually left the industry as it became increasingly production- and output-oriented, and she decided to pursue other tasks in which she did not have to compete. She became an accomplished sculptor and painter in her later years.

I must say that I find Cari Beauchamp to be one of the most fun, enthusiastic, and accessible film historians I have ever come across. She is a renowned scholar, and has written highly respected biographies and documentaries, yet her presentations are always down-to-earth and casual, with plenty of humor and no shortage of one-liners. As an example of a classic Cari Beauchamp utterance, she referred to the papers of Fred Thomson (Frances Marion’s husband), noting: “His stuff on de Mille is freaking hilarious.” She is very popular among us young classic film bloggers, enthusiasts, and devotees!

Next up was It Happened One Night, introduced by Cari Beauchamp once again. She pointed out a number of the continuity errors in the movie, ones which I had never noticed in my literally dozens of times seeing this movie. For example, in the famous “Man on the Flying Trapeze” number, the inside of the bus is rocking back and forth while the outside stays still. At one point, Claudette Colbert’s handkerchief disappears and reappears a number of times. The road Clark Gable drives on sometimes has a line, sometimes does not. Regardless of these errors, this movie remains the cream of the screwball comedy crop–one of the very first, and one of the very best.

The next movie was one I was very excited to see–not only is The General (1926) Buster Keaton’s best known film and arguably (or not arguably) his best, but the movie was to be shown at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, giving it the majestic treatment it deserves. The movie is about a young engineer in Georgia during the Civil War who wants to enlist in the army but is rejected because he would be more use to the South as an engineer. However, when he sits on the wheel of a train to think, the train starts and he is carried to an army base. Buster Keaton antics ensue, and he ends up foiling deserters, hearing enemy plots, and derailing trains from the North. It is Buster Keaton on a grand scale, and his antics are more polished and refined in this movie than they are in his shorts or even his other feature films. I am used to a Buster Keaton whose comedy is mostly slapstick, but this film highlights his ability to create subtle humor through facial expressions. One scene in particular stands out for me–when Buster sees yet another obstacle in his path, he expresses his incredulity through blinks of his eyes. It gives the audience a clear view of what he is feeling, yet Buster never for a minute lets go of his famous deadpan face.

Keaton was also known for dangerous stunts that he performed himself. Here are some stunts from the movie that demonstrate what he was capable of.

The General marked the final event of the TCM Classic Film Festival. A closing night party tied off the festivities, during which we said goodbye to friends and acquaintances that we met here, and even made plans to meet up again before the next festival. I always have fun at the TCM Classic Film Festival, and I can’t wait for next year!

Thank you, dear readers, for following along during these 4 days that seem to have gone by so quickly. I hope you enjoyed this coverage, and I will be resuming regular blogging duties upon arrival back home, including catching up on the Carole Lombard Filmography Project.

See you soon!