Snapshot # 5 - Ladies' Man (1931)

What is it about?: A notorious society gigolo wines, dines and beds a wealthy socialite and then her daughter but finds it difficult to escape the consequences of his lifestyle when he meets someone he really loves.

The Call Sheet: William Powell, Kay Francis, Carole Lombard, Olive Tell, Gilbert Emery

Behind the Camera: Directed by Lothar Mendes, Screenplay by Herman Mankiewicz from a story by Rupert Hughes, Cinematography by Victor Milner

Snapshot Thoughts: Ladies’ Man is a fairly routine and static melodrama whose main selling point is its rather sordid story of Pre Code loose morals. William Powell plays Jamie Darricott, the titular ‘Ladies’ Man’ (the film’s euphemism for gigolo) who is the escort of choice for middle aged socialite Mrs. Fendley (played by Olive Tell). Mrs. Fendley is rich and bored, as her husband is too busy making money to take her to the opera and go to parties with her. The perpetually jaded looking Jamie fulfils his position with a resigned stoicism due to the fact that it provides him with money to keep up the pretence that he is a gentleman. A complication arises when Mrs. Fendley’s young daughter Rachel (Carole Lombard) falls for Jamie and he obliges to her overtures, creating an odd ménage a trios between mother, daughter and gigolo that is mildly distasteful even in the context of Pre Code bad behaviour. Jamie eventually meets Norma Page (Kay Francis), a fairly normal woman and they start a relationship while Jamie attempts to extricate himself from the entanglements of his profession and start a new life with Norma.

From that brief synopsis we find a movie shrouded in a bleak air of tragedy where death constantly lurks. William Powell plays the part of Jamie in the restrained manner of a man married to his fate and tired of life. In Mrs. Fendley’s home he admires portraits of Catherine the Great and her lover the statesman Grigory Potemkin (I love how 30s films continually throw in these historical references assuming their audience knew full well that they were talking about. I wonder how many did? I had to look it up). They talk about how Potemkin ‘had to die’ for loving Catherine but that it was ‘a glorious death’ for such a love. The relationship is brought up several times throughout the film to remind us that following your heart results in death.

Jamie finds something to really live for when he meets Norma, but we know full well it is doomed (and if we didn’t, the fact that Mrs. Fendley and her daughter both proclaim that if Jamie doesn’t marry them they will kill him kind of gives it away). At this point we are supposed to feel some sympathy for Jamie’s dilemma, but it’s really difficult not to think he has willingly and selfishly brought it all on himself. Meeting Norma may have made him see the light and experience real love but he is still unrepentant for his lifestyle and prefers to blame busy husbands for creating the bored wives that provide a living for him. It’s a testament to the screen persona of William Powell that we feel anything at all for the cad.

Star Performances: William Powell is his usual excellent self and without him the movie would be like watching paint dry. He portrays Jamie Darricott as a world weary, fatalistic traveller who is constantly aware that his life can only end with premature death. Unfortunately at times he is often too world weary which hurts the picture when the poor dialogue and somnambulant pace really require a jolt of energy and movement. Powell is good in the film but the restrictions of the part really limit his ability to give his usual warm, assured performance. Kay Francis, still a few films away from stardom gives a rather charming performance as Norma. She is likable and feisty despite her motivation being questionable (why exactly is she with him?). Unfortunately she serves merely as window dressing for many of her scenes, standing or sitting silently while other characters move the plot on. However, it’s definitely a positive appearance for her, and she has future star written all over her. Speaking of which, the third part of the triumvirate of dream casting in the movie, Carole Lombard acquits herself well as the highly strung daughter Rachel. It’s not much of a part and indeed her character disappears two thirds of the way through the movie but she shows poise and charm. The scenes where she is blind drunk and acting alternately silly then threatening are particularly good. Finally, plaudits must also go to Olive Tell as the bored society wife who starts the whole sorry mess. She looks and sounds like the typical middle aged socialite of so many classic movies, yet instead of being shocked at immoral behaviour, she is the one instigating it. It’s an interesting role for her that continually plays against type.

Technical Excellences: There’s not much to report here sadly. The direction by Lothar Mendes, is flat and uninspiring. The fact that he had previously worked with William Powell and Kay Francis several times seems to made no difference to the quality of their performances and the generally static visual style. Looking at his other directorial efforts of the period, this seems to be his characteristic style and generally his films rise and fall based on the script and the charisma of the actors. Sadly here, neither are particularly inspiring, with Herman Mankiewicz’s script delivering some of the most stilted and dull dialogue imaginable. On the plus side, there are some lovely sets, particularly the hotel lobby set and the various society balls portrayed in the film look like they take place in some suitable grand surroundings. However, the flat direction generally reduces such scenes to vacant wide open spaces.

The Sublime: The best bit of the movie is it’s finale, where Mr. Fendley finally confronts Jamie about his dalliances with his family as a costume ball is about to start. After a brief scuffle, Jamie falls to his death from the hotel balcony and Mr Fendley takes his place leading the procession at the ball. He walks with his wife as it slowly dawns on her what he has done, his eyes glazed over as the police arrive. It’s a really strong ending which in the hands of a better director could have been a powerful scene of celebration slowly descending into tragedy as the truth dawns on all involved. As it is it’s still good, and capped off by Norma crying in the corner if the hall as the dance begins. A policeman says to her “Were you in love with him too?” and in a classic piece of Kay Francis tragedy she tearily replies “You don’t have to feel sorry for me. He loved me. They can’t take that away from me!”. She gives the camera a desperate, hysterical look as the film ends, safely chalking up another entry in the Pre Code book of miserable downbeat endings.

The Ridiculous: Kay Francis’ fashions. I don’t know who was responsible (sensibly the guilty party is left off the credits) but she wears some truly ridiculous outfits in Ladies’ Man. First off she has a hand muff in the hotel lobby that is the size of a baby seal (it may actually be a baby seal). It’s so big it takes up most of a coffee table and provides a useful ice breaker for Jamie to talk to her. Maybe that’s why she was wearing it as it’s really difficult to miss. The film’s designer then strikes again when it come to Kay’s evening wear. She wears a fur coat that looks like a stuffed and mounted poodle lives on her shoulders complete with a collar that even Liberace would say “No, too much” when asked to wear. And after that there is her dress. Wow. It’s a white (I think) number with polka dotted shiny things on it that may or may not be bits of foil taped on, or the entire 1931 supply of rhinestone, it’s difficult to tell. It also seems to have bits that hang off it and move about and basically it is a mess. From a distance it looks like a landing strip for a flying saucer. If you need to see this film, if you really need to, it should be to witness this monstrosity of misplaced glamour. No wonder everyone at the nightclub was drunk - one look at her ensemble and they were three sheets to the wind.

Is it worth watching?: In a word, no. Unless you are a hardcore Pre Code fan and have to see everything, I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s the sort of film that is interesting as a glimpse of the average filler material thrown out to a public demanding constant product. Not every film was a priority and contracts had to be met so the result is a movie like Ladies' Man. It takes a well known star, a couple of up and coming players and some veterans then throws together a bunch of ‘scandalous’ tropes involving sinful behaviour. Add some melodrama, a contract director and mix. Quite watchable, with hints at greater things but ultimately average and uninspiring. It’s the sort of picture that filled up the bill of an evening’s entertainment and was then instantly forgotten. And let’s face it, there’s nothing wrong with that.

Of course, with that said, if you are true connoisseur of 30s high fashion and impeccable glamour then Ladies’ Man is one of the greatest films ever made.

Random Quote: “Women are always waiting for someone, and then Mr. Darricott comes along!”

Evelyn Prentice (1934) - Where's Asta?

After the success of The Thin Man, MGM decided to put their hot new screen couple Myrna Loy and William Powell in to another picture while they figured out what to do with them and prepared to work on a sequel. The film the studio gave them was Evelyn Prentice, another of the seemingly endless cycle of early 30s melodramas about marital infidelity and intrigue. Despite a decent cast and crew and by all accounts positive contemporary reviews, the film is ultimately rather average, and not really the best showcase for its stars. However, if you are in the right mood (and I was) it’s a supremely silly film brimming with over the top courtroom dramatics, utterly ridiculous legal twists, dubious moral behaviour and featuring possibly the world’s worst barn dance. I had planned to document it’s less than stellar moments but when I looked at the list I had made, one aspect of the movie leapt out at me as possibly the most jarring.

Throughout the film, our stars Myrna Loy and William Powell seem rather muted and lack a lot of the sparkle and chemistry that made them their names together in The Thin Man and the earlier Manhattan Melodrama. Part of the blame for this is surely the tired soap opera of the plot concerning busy lawyer Powell leaving bored wife Loy to suffer the drudgery of a fabulously wealthy lifestyle of endless parties and cocktails (oh, the ennui of it all). Her boredom culminates in a near miss with an affair and (predictably) murder. William Powell has his problems too as Myrna suspects he is having an affair with a former client played by the debuting Rosalind Russell. The film never shows any of his alleged infidelities, tantalising us by fading out just before anything untoward happens, thus putting the focus of the marital problems on the wife. Due to the fact that he’s a man with a respected position in society, the assumption is that he’s obviously innocent. Because that happens. But I digress…

What really got to me was that the couple have a young daughter in the film, played by Cora Sue Collins. Despite the fact that she seems to be largely raised by Myrna’s best friend (played here in a brilliant turn – possibly the only dose of pep in the whole dreary affair - by the under rated and wonderful Una Merkel) and that both parents seem to be too busy working, carousing or moping (usually after the carousing) to bother with child care, something just isn’t right.

For a start, sweet little Cora Sue is a curly haired moppet in a sailor suit of the Shirley Temple variety. She has a nice line in saccharine dialogue, specialising in saying “Mommy, what’s wrong?” with big eyes and trembling lip. In reality though, her plaintive pleas for her parents’ love are probably due to the fact that she never actually sees them.

And of course the most glaring thing that is wrong with the poor child is that frankly, she’s not Asta, but I’ll get to that in a moment.

Her character in the film is wrong on so many levels. Firstly, if Loy and Powell ever fictionally procreated (let’s forget about Little Nicky in the later Thin Man films for the moment - actually let’s try to completely forget him) then they would surely produce a more sophisticated and less annoying child. It’s just basic genetics. Okay, in the film the child has largely absent parents, so misses out on the touch of urbane sophistication and expert cocktail shaking abilities of her dad, and the sly wit and fashion sense of her mother. However (and here we could possibly get into a nature versus nurture debate) surely the unfortunate child would have picked up something by osmosis in the brief minutes she spends with her folks? Failing that, if she could have at least picked up a sense of fun, energy and the baffling ability to randomly speak French of her surrogate carer Una Merkel then it would at least be a minor victory for all concerned.

No, this child is failing at all her basic duties. Our ringlet-strewn urchin has had these wonderful opportunities given to her on a silver platter and has single-handedly managed to be oblivious to the glittering world of fun around her. The poor girl probably can’t even tell you the correct glass for a mint julep, and I'd guess is a shockingly bad bridge partner to boot. No, I refuse to believe that this could be the true child of a Powell-Loy fictional union. The only explanation is that somebody must have swapped the baby at birth and that this plot point was edited out of the final print due to timing constraints. Yes, that’ll be it.

There is a strange scene in the film where William Powell, home for a brief moment between busy work assignments spends time playing and exercising with dear little Cora Sue and wife Myrna. The point of the scene is to show the bond between the parents and child and also seemingly to inject a moment of Thin Man style whimsy into the movie. It also shows the underlying tension between the husband and wife while contrasting with the innocence of the child. However, the scene, with its silly exercise routine just comes across as a failed attempt to inject some spontaneity into the movie and to make the characters a bit more likable. The result is just emotionally cloying and despite flashes of the old chemistry the whole thing is just contextually wrong. Firstly the scene seems unnatural for the straight-laced characters and secondly, the addition of an irritating child to the Powell-Loy act seems forced.

Which brings me to Asta. Let's face it, Little Cora Sue bless her heart just doesn’t have the charisma, the poise and the raw cinematic presence of Asta. To me, Asta is as much a part of the Powell – Loy act as Dorothy Lamour is to Hope and Crosby (not that I’m comparing the two but you know what I mean). In fact it’s a shame that after The Thin Man, Asta was not part of the package for other new films starring the pair. Granted, he wouldn’t have always fitted in, but I’m sure he would have had fun trying. Perhaps he got an agent and his doggy demands for bones and sausages were too much for the studio to give in to. I’d imagine that talent like his didn’t come cheap during the meat shortage.

Anyway, despite the fact that Cora Sue Collins is just all kinds of wrong as the fictional offspring of William Powell and Myrna Loy, she generally just looks out of place sitting next to the two stars. Powell and Loy just don’t do soapy melodrama and comfortable family units, or at least they shouldn’t, and anyone who shares the screen with them needs to be able to hold their own and push them to greater heights. A cheeky little scamp like Asta could provide the needed kick in the pants to a film taking itself too seriously, but a curly haired young urchin just makes things worse. Personally I think the perfect child for Bill and Myrna on screen would be Mitzi Green, possibly the only non-irritating child star in Hollywood history. (For more on Miss Green, please see here)

For instance, if poor Evelyn Prentice were sad because of sort of accidentally murdering a man she’s sort of not really having an affair with, little Mitzi would simply do a skipping soft shoe dance number then cheer her up with an impression of George Arliss. That one never fails. She would also come in useful at the dreadful social events her mother has to appear at by insulting haughty guests with a Dorothy Parker-esque put down while mixing a mean manhattan.

Of course she’d still be second choice behind Asta. Evelyn Prentice was obviously a stop gap film given to it’s stars regardless of whether it suited their screen personas, but it highlights so much of what makes the William Powell and Myrna Loy films so magical by showing us what it lacks. The film lacks the characters we would all grow to love, shoehorning them into stodgy melodrama, but most of all the film lacks that special catalyst to free them from the straight-laced theatrics. Cora Sue Collins, an otherwise talented child performer was not the solution. As Myrna said of the film in her autobiography, "The Thin Man had been so perfect for us, such a ball to make, that going into this thing was kind of a bore. It sent Bill into occasional depressions" And if you ask me, any film that made William Powell sad makes me sad too.

The lesson to be learned here is that all you really need to brighten up any picture and give that extra bit of appeal to a new screen couple is a cute dog that does tricks. Hey, some films can win Oscars due to it. Cute children just don’t quite cut it. Evelyn Prentice was a movie sorely lacking something, and that something had four paws and a tail and a special affinity for fire hydrants.

Happy Birthday William Powell!

I’ve always found William Powell to be hugely entertaining to watch, with a screen persona that matched elegance, wit and sophistication with a self-effacing and genial charm. I realize that he is still very popular with the classic movie crowd but it’s such a shame that he has not been remembered as much by the media and general public. Of course, the Thin Man films have had an enduring appeal and for him probably amount to the closest to cinematic immortality that he is likely to get, but there is really so much more to his career than just Nick and Nora.

I have to admit, much to my eternal shame, that I haven’t seen any of his silent films. I can’t comment on him as a silent actor though he had obviously established himself as a fairly big star by the time sound was introduced. Like Ronald Colman, it’s a testament to his immediate success in sound that his silent triumphs have been virtually forgotten but Powell had a voice that perfectly matched his persona and he seems to have taken to the new technology straight away.

It’s really his Paramount and Warner Brothers films that I find most rewarding to watch. Here, his screen character is a shade darker and more serious and he shows his ability to he a compelling and confident leading man. This, combined with his criminally overlooked partnership with Kay Francis (six films in total) set him out as a heavyweight star of dramas and romances. And if anyone out there hasn’t seen One Way Passage, stop what you are doing and go and watch it NOW! Beg, borrow and steal to get hold of it because it needs to be seen!

Of course, the eventual move to MGM propelled him into the upper echelon of stars and resulted in one of the best screen partnerships in film history so it’s not like it was a step down. The Powell-Loy partnership really is cinematic gold and one of the reasons why I’m proud to be a fan of classic movies. Regardless of entertainment value they also show Powell’s range and amazing gift for light (and sometimes quite bizarre) comedy.

Unfortunately I find that his late ‘30s and ‘40s films without Loy lack a certain ‘something’. Often it’s the fault of the film itself (the uninspiring Crossroads for example) and other times it’s due to his co-star merely being a Myrna Loy surrogate because she wasn’t available for the film (The Ex-Mrs. Bradford take a bow). Despite this I must admit to a fondness for Mr Peabody and the Mermaid and its threadbare charm and heartily recommend it.

In the end, though teaming with Loy was a great career move, it ultimately worked out better for her. She continued to be a star in her own right whereas Powell started to become defined primarily by the partnership and the character he developed with her. Their films may well be cinematic gold but they started to limit his career and the types of roles given to him. Of course, another explanation for his career lull could be the unfortunate death of Jean Harlow and his own later health problems. However, on the whole he has a filmography to be proud of, and unlike a lot of his contemporaries, he knew when to quit and managed to go out on top and in a dignified manner.

However, the best thing about William Powell is the emotions he evokes. He’s one of those stars that always bring a smile to my face and for whom I like so many others, hold real affection for. There’s something very genuine in him and his performances, a real and infectious sense of fun and enjoyment. As I find myself saying all too often, he is one of those stars that make it look all so effortless and easy, but this just shows what a huge talent he was. Like all great film stars, besides being a good actor he represents an ideal and an aspiration, and to me he represents warmth, sophistication and good humour (as well as tuxedos, cocktails and crime solving but that goes without saying). In fact, most importantly he represents everything I enjoy about Hollywood films in the 1930s.

Lawyer Man (1932) - William Powell Goes to Court, Joan Blondell Throws Stuff Around...

I had been looking forward to watching Lawyer Man for a long, long time. The reason? Because it features the one time only teaming of two of my tip-top favourite screen stars, William Powell and Joan Blondell. Successful screen partnerships are always a tricky business. On paper, having two favourite stars together always looks like an exciting proposition, but in reality a number of factors can enable the venture to fizzle away into 90 minutes of forced love scenes and passionless kisses (think Errol Flynn and Bette Davis). A good script helps, as does a capable director and supporting artistes, but when it comes down to it you either have chemistry together or you don't. William Powell had it in spades with Myrna Loy, and before that with Kay Francis. Joan Blondell obviously had it with Dick Powell and also with James Cagney. But put the two of them together and would it work?

To be honest, having just watched Lawyer Man I'm none the wiser.

The movie, directed by William Dieterle is one of those fast paced, star laden Warner pre-code gems that the studio managed to churn out so effortlessly in the early 30's. The story concerns the ups and downs of lawyer Anton "Tony" Adam (Powell) as he goes from struggling East Side councillor for the needy to Assistant District Attorney and right back again. In between he gets mixed up with a crooked D.A, a shady doctor and his scheming gold digging gal. The constant in Powell's rise and fall is his no nonsense secretary Olga (Blondell) who acts as his personal organiser and conscience, all the time holding a secret love for her boss.

I've said this before and I'll say it again, in a movie like this the plot is (obviously) necessary but ultimately just window dressing for the stars to do their thing, and here is no different. The story is engaging and brisk, though moving from each new set of situations and characters rather quickly with little time for much characterisation or detail. As it typical of the era, the tone mixes the light with the dark, segueing from broad comedy and pathos to the serious inner workings of the courts and the corruption of City Hall and the racketeers. This backdrop is all standard fare but never less than exciting.

A lot of the fun to be had in Lawyer Man is by spotting the familiar faces in the cast, not all of twhom are listed in the credits. Allen Jenkins and Jack La Rue play a couple of hoodlums lured into the pay of William Powell by the offer of maple layer cake; Claire Dodd once again excels in having dubious morals as the film's bad girl; Roscoe Karns shows up unannounced as a reporter; and Laurel and Hardy fans like myself will spot Tom Kennedy, Wilfred Lucas, Henry Hall, Dorothy Christy and Max Davidson in (sadly) minor roles. Finally, in the pre-code moment of the whole movie Sterling Holloway pops up as a drunk in a bar while poor Joan Blondell mopes around over Powell. As she looks off into middle distance all sad he declares that "you're in love with your boss and he won't give you a tumble". That she doesn't disagree with him is one reason why we all love pre-code films.

However, when it comes down to it this is a William Powell picture. He gets the top (and only) billing on the title card and everyone else is reduced to support (Blondell does get a fairly prominent mention in most of the advertising). As usual he is fantastic, giving an assured performance typical of this pre-Nick Charles period in his career. Powell's films with Warner and Paramount are always good value even though he essentially plays the same character in most of them, as he reigns in his comedic tendencies and and allows himself to be slightly unsympathetic when need be. In this era (before Manhattan Melodrama) he's a real leading man and one who doesn't need a female co-star to help carry a picture. I always felt that as good as he was with Myrna Loy (and he was very good) he always got tagged as a part of a double act once they got established and in all his appearances after The Thin Man producers felt they couldn't put him in a movie without a Loy surrogate. Interestingly Myrna Loy didn't suffer from this as she continued to carry movies whilst slipping back into the Loy-Powell partnership when needed.

As I said, this is Powell's film, so sadly we don't get to see the real potential of a Powell-Blondell partnership as Joan and indeed all the other stars are relegated to mere support. It's strange that Blondell doesn't get more to do as even though she was yet to hit her Gold Diggers of 1933 peak, she still had such popular hits as Blonde Crazy and Miss Pinkerton behind her. It could be argued that she wasn't seen at the level of William Powell at that time as her appearances to this point had been as love interest to stars such as Cagney, or sharing the top slot with other female leads (such as in The Greeks Had a Word for Them). By 1932 she was just beginning to get top billing in a few films and probably this was another step towards establishing herself as a star in her own right.

Despite her lack of screen time with Powell, Joan Blondell makes the most of her scenes. The theme of her relationship with him is the phrase"I told you so!" (so much so that it's the last line of the film) as she arches her eyebrows and screws up her face each time her boss is led astray by another woman or hopeless court case. She acts as the conscience of Powell's character and when she doesn't get her own way has a nice line in slamming doors and throwing files around the office. At one point, when Powell is about to go to lunch with his colleague's sister, Blondell glares at him while menacingly snipping a pair of scissors. What could she be implying?

Of course, regardless of threats she's in love with him. What's unusual about the film is that despite this the love goes unrequited in the end. During the film, Powell is even confronted with her attractiveness when he spots a shapely pair of legs at a shoe shine stand, only to look up and realise they are those of his secretary. In the end, back on the Est Side, the two take a stroll arm in arm, with no final kiss just two friends talking. It's quite disappointing since the film subtly leads up to a romantic conclusion after Powell's bad luck with bad women. It's also quite charming as we can imagine further legal adventures for the pair and perhaps romance now that the boss is listening to his secretary.

In the end, it is Powell's film and the point being made is about the practice of law, not the practise of love. Sadly, because of this the dream pairing of William Powell and Joan Blondell never has the chance to blossom as they are never the focus of the picture. The small hints given of their chemistry show Powell at his suave and subtly humorous best and Blondell doing her trademark pouty looks with added bursts of violence towards stationery and furniture. All in all, they make a sweet couple and given another pairing in a more standard type of vehicle (for example the usual Blondell plot of being the neglected wife of a reporter, detective etc, or of competing with said man in said occupation) they could have been very entertaining. As it is, Lawyer Man is a great film full of memorable moments but sadly only fleeting moments of greatness from two of my favourite stars together.