Screen Snapshots

Screen Snapshots
Showing posts with label Cary Grant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cary Grant. Show all posts

Wednesday, 21 January 2015

Big Brown Eyes (1936) - Exclusive! Joan Bennett Solves a Crime While Polishing Nails!

There’s a lot to take in while watching this movie: two engaging stars, some nifty direction and cinematography, a sterling line up of supporting players, and a very schizophrenic approach to tone. However, on the whole Big Brown Eyes doesn’t quite equal the sum of its parts, but strangely this is exactly why it’s such a fascinating and compelling film.

Released in April 1936, Big Brown Eyes from all appearances is firmly a B picture. For a start there’s the bland generic title that unlike similar 30s movie titles with no thought put into them (such scintillating gems as Lawyer Man, Parachute Jumper, Air Hostess and Jewel Robbery spring to mind) succeeds in not only being unimaginative but in no way describes or has relevance to the plot. Whose brown eyes? And how do we even know? The movie is in black and white! One would assume it refers to Joan Bennett’s character but they could have at least written one line into the script to reference it. She has eyes, but to my knowledge they are neither big nor brown.

The film is unusual due to its odd mix of genres, styles and tones. Ostensibly it’s about the relationship between quick talking detective Dan Barr (Cary Grant) and his equally sharp witted girlfriend, manicurist Eve Fallon (Joan Bennett). They bicker, fight, fall out and make up over the course of the movie and in doing so foil the plans of a gang of jewel robbers. The thing is,there's so much going on it’s as if the writer(s) just had lots of bits left over from other films and decided to throw them all together to see what fitted. It’s at once a cops and robbers movie, a poor girl made good movie, a fast talking journalist movie, and a lone detective movie. It’s also both a breezy romantic comedy and a gritty gangster film, and none of these elements fit together very well. When lowly manicurist Bennett becomes a hotshot reporter for the local newspaper seemingly overnight you can tell the writers are making this stuff up as they go along.

Most jarringly is the tone, sweeping from the light and snappy one liners of the soon to be typical Cary Grant romantic comedy to the darkest of the dark, during which the criminals accidentally shoot a baby in the park when a gangland disagreement goes wrong. We see the anguish of the mother as she looks into the bullet ridden pram then…the movie continues in its merry way, and the jokes and silly situations continue. In fact the criminals in the film are about the most unsavoury bunch I can remember seeing outside of the early pre-code gangster movies and at times just seem to be in the wrong film. More leftover plots from an earlier time?


The movie’s B credentials are furthered by two solid mid level stars as leads. Obviously, Cary Grant would go on to greater things but here he’s not quite there yet (but almost). In Joan Bennett the movie gains a young, pretty name actress, but not one who ever quite made the A lists despite a long career as a star actress. In fact I always think of Joan Bennett at one of the great unsung talents of the 30s and 40s and a real dependable utility player in Hollywood. I started noticing it whilst listening to Lux Radio Theater as whenever an advertised star had to cancel due to ‘illness’, it always seemed like Joan Bennett was the girl chosen at short notice to replace them (and if she wasn’t available Virginia Bruce got the call). She has a great range and is everything a star should be, but often just seemed to get lost in the shuffle, with very few of her early films remembered well today. Perhaps this a case of someone who movie history has overlooked but I wish she had become a bigger star. In any case dependable is good, and in Big Brown Eyes she is simply wonderful. In fact if she was as charming and sassy in all her movies as she is here, I know we would remember her much more, though her career would perhaps be less interesting.

You could write a whole book studying the young Cary Grant’s path of discovery towards becoming the Cary Grant character in his early films, which is one reason why they are often so fascinating. Here he’s 18 months and half a dozen films away from his breakout performance in The Awful Truth, and you can see him gaining confidence and starting to put the pieces together for his new screen persona. He plays a confident, wise cracking cop trying to solve a murder and has loads of opportunity for the sort of self effacing foolery he later made an art. He is charming, forceful and funny but somehow he’s not 100% believable in the role. He hasn’t quite joined the dots on how to pull it all off sucessfully and behind the smile there is a smidgen of doubt. He didn’t have long to wait though, and we all know how that worked out (yes, he was never heard from again...).

For me though, Joan Bennett is the real star of the movie. She has an air of confidence that really carries the film, and she really needs it to get away with some of the ridiculous fashions she sports during the proceedings. It's almost as if her part was another holdover from the pre-code era, a final hurrah to the sort of girl who works her way up from the shop floor to success and romance, the sort of girl who is tough and hard because her life is, yet becomes all smiles and big eyes when love comes her way. There are comedic moments when Cary Grant threatens to outshine her, but she holds her own, and frequently manages to get bigger laughs. A scene where she mimics Grant is both hilarious and unexpected and she shows a flair for outrageous comedy. Bennett literally stomps through the picture unperturbed, instantly becoming a reporter, keeping her boyfriend in line and solving a crime while buffing nails like it's the best day out ever. It's a breathlessly effervescent performance that is perfectly judged (unlike the script) and makes one wish she had been given similar vehicles in the pre-code era.

Surprisingly (at least to me), Big Brown Eyes is directed by Raoul Walsh. I'm surprised because I always associated Walsh with a higher quality of product but a quick glance at his filmography shows that after his great silent successes of the late 20s such as What Price Glory and The Thief of Bagdad, he spent most of the 30s making fairly forgettable movies. This creative lull would come to an end in 1939 with a move to Warner Brothers for The Roaring Twenties and after that he had an incredible run of great movies that would continue pretty much to the end of his career. So what happened in the 30s? I'd take a guess and say he was just seen as a contract studio director at Paramount and never given the chance to direct anything worthy of his rugged talents. Every studio was a fit for certain stars and directors, and it seems that Paramount had no idea what to do with him.


Despite being given a fairly unremarkable vehicle to work on, Walsh and his crew work hard to bring the movie up to a level above the norm. There are some stunning Art Deco sets, some of which seem so incongruous with the tone of the movie that they stand out like a sore thumb. This, combined with some outrageous high fashion really makes the visual style memorable, and the movie is at times an awkward halfway house of early and mid 30s styles. This is complemented by a style of direction and cinematography that while patchy, is at times far better than a film of this type deserves. There is a wonderful opening sequence set in the beauty salon where the premise of the diamond thieves is explained through a stunning montage of gossiping staff and customers in the salon. The quick cuts and extreme close ups of the faces, combined with the constant chatter and whisper about the scandal produces a scene worthy of Hitchcock and more importantly sets up the plot perfectly in about 30 seconds. This trick is repeated in a more unusual way, full of strange camera angles to heighten tension during a later court scene.

Perhaps the most striking aspect of the movie, and the area where Raoul Walsh exerts his influence the most noticeably is in its treatment of the criminal characters. To do this successfully, the movie casts a group powerhouse character actors that get some of the best roles of their careers. If we ignore the fact that the tone of the movie is schizophrenic, the part dealing with the jewel gang is excellent, and it's all down to the talent of the actors and a firm directorial hand. The criminal scenes are shot in a matter of fact way, with a bleak dispassionate stare and a black streak of humour.

Lloyd Nolan plays Russ Cortig, the head of the jewel gang and brings to the role his customary combination of believability and rough charm. The character is both thuggish and cultured, an arrogant criminal yet a man with a sensitive side that hints at hidden depths. When we see his apartment it is dressed with all different types of flowers, and Cortig himself is listening intently to a horticultural show on the radio. His interest in flowers is not merely a lazy gimmick, it is a motif that is woven into all his appearances in the movie. When detective Dan Barr (Grant) arrives to confront him, he puts his drink in a vase of lilies, much to Cortig's dismay. Barr replies by saying “There'll be plenty left for your funeral” thus foreshadowing a prominent use for the precious flowers in the gangster's life. The flowers may put Cortig a cut above his loutish cohorts but when he is acquitted of the baby murder he shows his true colours and leaves the courtroom laughing heartily, ready to get back to his beloved plants. That we still have a degree of sympathy for the character after this is all down to the subtle playing of Nolan.


Eventually he is shot dead by fellow gang members, surrounded by his plants. Unaware that he will be the recipient of a hit, he tells his would be assassins about this love of flowers: “American Relatives. My favourites. I guess that's because they're so expensive”. The line is delivered so perfectly, all at once undermining any pretence of depth in the man, and confirming that his tastes, though genuine were largely a matter of ego and status. As he goes to put the flowers in a vase, he talks to them (“these go in poppa's bedroom”) and absentmindedly lectures his friends on the ins and outs of flower arranging. He puts a flower in his lapel, turns around and is shot to death. As predicted, earlier, the flowers find a use covering his dead body.

Another memorable player in the movie is Douglas Fowley, who plays the gang's resident wise guy Benny Battle. He has the most amazingly high-waisted trousers, a cocked hat and the catchphrase “Howzit babe?” that mark him out as a come to life figure out the pre-code era. He is all front, with his corny patter and Bowery bravado he is the epitome of Warner Brothers gangster film swagger. Later, he is arrested and is convinced that he has squealed on his gang, so flips out in the police station, and we see the most amazing transformation from bully to scared little boy. It's a brief but intense performance and is easily one of Douglas Fowley's best character parts.

Despite these great performances, the movie is completely stolen by Alan Baxter in the role of gang hitman Cary Butler, who appears alongside his brother and fellow hitman, played by Henry Brandon (here billed as Henry Kleinbach). Alan Baxter is someone who I wasn't aware of before this film but he made such a big impression here that I have to start tracking down his other appearances. He looks impossibly young (actually 27) in this movie, but with a cold steely eyed determination in his face that just oozes menace. His character only appears a few times in the movie, but each appearance is sufficiently striking that at times it seems like he is in a completely different movie (again, this is probably the script's fault but his scenes are directed with a degree of seriousness that is still at odds with the majority of the film).


Cary Butler and his brother are always together, always similarly attired and always looking shifty. It is an argument with brothers that causes Lloyd Nolan's character to shoot the baby, and so later it is up to the them to sort the mess out. In a rather chilling scene, the real boss of the gang (played by Walter Pidgeon) calls them up with a job, we find them lying on a bed together smoking and staring off into space as if they are automatons that have nothing to fill their lives without killing. As the phone rings, they look at each other then sit up in unison. Butler talks in a low, clipped monotone, stone faced but for the hint of a cruel smile. Now with a job in hand, they calmly start packing and talk about catching a flight. It is the brothers that kill Russ Cortig, with Butler looking particularly cold and inhuman in the face of a man and his enthusiasm for tending for plants. After the shooting he throws some flowers on the prone body, snarling “Take these with you...daisies never tell”

Alan Baxter's performance really has to be experienced, as his otherworldly deadpan approach is strikingly modern. He doesn't say or do much but every movement and every word is laced with threat and menace hiding behind a boyish face and dead eyes. Mention also should be made for Henry Brandon playing his brother, though he isn't quite as good, his size and mean face (which were put to such memorable use in Laurel and Hardy's Babes in Toyland) combined with his almost complete lack of dialogue gives him a scary presence.

All in all Big Brown Eyes is a really watchable film. It's odd combination of the serious and the comic, and its mix of genres and characters at least makes it far from ordinary. I would love to know about the genesis of the script as there are so many elements and characters that seem decidedly pre-code. It's almost as if it was a script that was lying around in a studio drawer for a while and subsequently spruced up by Raoul Walsh for a 1936 audience. Nonetheless it is a great film, with two stars at very interesting parts of the careers, a host of top notch character actors giving scene stealing support and a director trying to do a little more that is usually required with a B movie and a B script. And if nothing else, it's really worth watching for the final seconds. As the criminals are rounded up and justice prevails, Cary Grant grabs Joan Bennett in the clinch for the customary final kiss and fade out and...let's just say he's enthusiastic! Cary Grant has always been a great screen kisser but here he looks like he's really giving it the old college try. Well, maybe it was her big brown eyes...

Sunday, 27 June 2010

Hot Saturday (1932) - Cary Grant Needs to Work on his Cary Grant-ness...

For years, Cary Grant was my favourite film star and one of the idols of my formative years. I watched all his movies that appeared on television and feverishly read any biographies I could get my hands on. After a while the new films to watch dried up so I rested him for a few years and moved on in other directions. Recently I’ve returned to him, filled all the gaps in my collection and then watched a number of his films only to find that…well it’s not the same. For reasons that I haven’t yet fully understood, I’m not enjoying his movies as much as I used to and most of the ones I’ve viewed lately, whether they were good films or bad have left me a little disappointed by his performance (for the record these films have been When You’re in Love, Kiss Them for Me, Wedding Present, I’m No Angel, Only Angels Have Wings, Holiday and Indiscreet). While Cary Grant is still the benchmark in my life when it comes to sartorial elegance and gentlemanly conduct, I’m finding that there’s just something missing when I watch my former favourite on the screen. He’s just not matching my memories from when I was younger. What’s wrong with me, am I ill?

Which brings me to Hot Saturday, currently the earliest performance of Cary Grant that I’ve seen (actually I’ve watched Singapore Sue but that doesn’t really count). Though top billed, he’s not really the star as that honour belongs to Nancy Carroll. She plays Ruth Brock, a pretty girl in the sleepy small town of Marysville who regularly has to fight off the attention of the bored young men at the bank where she works. She meets local playboy Romer Sheffield (Grant) who invites everyone down to his house for a party, the ‘Hot Saturday’ of the title. From there we get the usual melodrama of love affairs and misunderstandings with the main message being the petty-mindedness of small town gossips as Ruth becomes a scarlet woman due to her carefree attitudes. There’s quite a lot to talk about in the film (short version: Nancy Carroll does a ridiculous Lillian Gish impression, lots of underwear on show gratuitously, Randolph Scott undressing an unconscious woman in a cave and a hilarious turn from Grady Sutton) but just this once I’m going to ignore all that and talk about one aspect, the aforementioned Mr. Grant.

Cary Grant’s character in Hot Saturday is interesting as not only is it his first leading role but possibly his first excursion playing the “Cary Grant” character that he would go on to perfect, both on and off screen. Here he hasn’t quite figured out the formula. As Sheffield he is charming and romantic but with an altogether harder heart. For example, at the start of the film he pulls up outside the bank with his current girlfriend, who is promptly dispatched with once Nancy Carroll becomes the new object of his affections (complete with monetary pay off). When he asks his servant if she has left a message for him, the reply is “..she said you can go to h...the devil”. Sheffield is obviously a worldly-wise character with a long line of female conquests to his name.

You get the feeling with Grant in this picture that he is still finding his way in this sort of role, still piecing together his screen alter ego. At his party he’s decked out in boating whites and blazer, and walks around with an almost Gatsbyesque air of bored detachment (everybody is enjoying the food and drink except him). When trying to woo Nancy Carroll the words sound lovely but the delivery is hesitant and at times empty. He also has that strangely toothy and feminine smile that he only seems to have in early portrait pictures. It’s almost as if he hasn’t even grown into his face either. He’s not helped by a lack of close ups and some bad continuity throughout the film as he sports a healthy and deep tan in some scenes, only to have the white pancake makeup on in the next. It’s an altogether stuttering start for the local lothario.

Despite these teething troubles, his character certainly shows the suave arrogance of a true cad to match his detachment. After trying his best pick up lines on Carroll at the party, he emerges hand in hand with her in full view of her current beau as if to highlight that he is used to women falling into his lap regardless of their existing relationships. Later in the film when Carroll appears at his house late at night we find the young playboy lounging about on his porch in his smoking jacket. He seems unsurprised to see her and admits that when he saw her he knew he had to have her. When Carroll talks marriage he replies “Marriage…ownership...dreadful thought isn’t it?” He has the casual attitude of a bored playboy who is used to living his life the way he wants and used to getting what he wants, and usually through money. This is scripted without a trace of emptiness on his part - up to this point money has bought him happiness. Though it’s early days, this embryonic version of the ‘Cary Grant’ character is with hindsight quite troubling. After all, Cary Grant without a heart, without a sense of compromise, without the ability to be ridiculous and self depreciating is, well…you can fill in the name of your least favourite leading man if you want to be cruel.

Luckily by the final reel Cary has a sudden change of heart and starts to really look a bit more familiar to our modern eyes. When informed that Nancy Carroll is due to marry longtime friend Randolph Scott he accepts the news with disappointment but also grace and gallantry (and all while impeccably dressed in a tuxedo). It’s an unexpected admission for a man who gets everything he wants that he has lost for the first time in his life. However, this in turn leads to the frankly unbelievable ending where Carroll decides to run off with Grant and get married. Yes, faced with scandal and ruin, she sides with the home wrecking cad. Worse still, he goes along with it - what happened to all that dreadful ownership stuff?

Hot Saturday is interesting for what could have been had this character emerged as the template for Cary Grant’s screen persona. Though his character had a somewhat ambiguous morality, I can’t say I enjoyed his performance and I wouldn’t say that it is in any way a star making turn, though these days it’s impossible to put yourself in the shoes of a viewer seeing Cary Grant for the first time. I’m afraid that for me the movie continued the run of under whelming performances by Grant. What’s interesting is that the suave playboy he portrays in Hot Saturday certainly lacks ‘something’, with his empty words and arrogance. Of course, that ‘something’ is the special magic that Cary Grant eventually brought to his roles as a star, that unique charm that made him stand out from the crowd and made him my favourite actor for so many years. It’s strange watching him in the process of finding that magic and seeing him misjudge a few steps on his way to creating one of the most enduring and popular characters in film history. I guess I’ll have to find a way to reconnect with Cary Grant with the next film I watch…