Showing posts with label Barbara Kent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barbara Kent. Show all posts

Thursday, 30 December 2021

Three’s a charm… Early Universal Vol 1, Eureka Blu-ray


More seasonal lolling about watching my presents, this time a box set of three Universal films, fully restored and issued on Blu-ray at a very reasonable price and with essays and commentary on what could be regarded as lesser works in the silent film "cannon". All three are, however, very well made and feature noteworthy participants, they represent popular films from Hollywood's golden age and act as fine examples of the type of film that made up most of Universals output and which were enjoyed by large portions of the film-going audience.  In historical terms, there’s no such thing as “standard fare” and these films may well have had a wider audience than many an arthouse classic. So play on...


The Shakedown (1929), 4K Restoration

 

Directed by some fella name of William Wyler, this fast-paced morality tale features The Crowd’s remarkable James Murray in only the second film I’ve seen him in and he’s good, very good, making his life-struggle with addiction all the more tragic, as if anything could. He was so bright and not only soul full of light and shade but also physically brave, seen here rising high onto an oil rig and in the ring going toe to toe with boxer and professional wrestler George Kotsonaros. The latter appeared in Beggars of Life (1928) and others, but his life ended tragically too in a 1933 car accident.


James Murray

By contrast, Barbara Kent made it to 2011 and 103 years of age although her career petered out in the mid thirties while she was only in her twenties. So it goes and the other star of this film Jack Hanlon, would have further grounds for complaint, with a film career that ended he was just 16… a smashing child actor who became simply too old for the job.

 

Everyone acts well in this film with Wyler moving things at a pace and incorporating comedy, love, criminality and some excellent late silent period dolly shots following the cast along streets and in the boxing ring. In the excellent booklet with this set, Richards Comb talks of Wyler’s later acknowledged “deep-focus look” and “the ability to hold many actors, in different planes of action, across the screen…”. Combs startling evidence of this in The Shakedown starting with the early set up of the scam at the heart of the story.

 

James Murray and Barbara Kent at the fun fair

It’s the way the director and his cinematographers Charles Stumar and Jerome Ash, show the action in the bar where Murray’s character Dave is showing his boxing skills. He’s challenged by a rough-looking type, boxer Battling Roff (Kotsonaros) and as the bruiser tries to hit Dave, the action is seen from behind him at the bar and the street outside is fully visible. Then the camera view shifts to the reverse as Dave talks to a young woman at the doorway, back inside as Roff spots her, then outside tracking her walking away and being followed by Roff, back to Dave who moves to intervene and rush to the damsel’s distress.

 

Dave knocks down Roff and the latter’s manager (Wheeler Oakman) steps in saying the two should settle things in the ring where Dave could win $1,000 if he lasts three rounds. The contest agreed, the manager starts taking bets from the gathered crowd… we’re sucked in, and the next shot shows a hotel room with Dave, Roff, the girl and even the two guys arguing about who would win, all in on the scam. It’s quality filmmaking and I’m not surprised that Wyler spent months planning the project.


The excitement is in tents.

The rest of the film shows Dave setting up another scam in a new town only this time he gets too involved helping a young boy called Clem – tough and lonely as he once was – and falling for the girl he works with at the oil company, Marjorie (Barbara Kent). Will the outcome be different this time? Wyler packs a lot into a relatively short film and the climax is intense; you really care about Murray’s characters! A very proficient Hollywood film and a delight for rainy seasonal afternoons and any time really.

 

The film comes with a new score by Michael Gatt and commentary by film writer Nick Pinkerton.

 

The Shield of Honor (1927), 2K Restoration

 

Directed by Emory Johnson a one-time actor whose career faltered after the silent era and who directed the superb news-based action thriller The Last Edition (1925), this is another exciting feature even though it starts off like a promotional film for the LAPD.


Ralph Lewis and Neil Hamilton

The LAPD has a new weapon in the fight against crime, an airplane that is going to be piloted by one Jack MacDowell (Neil Hamilton, later Adam West’s Commissioner Gordon, a fact I love). Jack is the son of long-termer Dan played by Ralph Lewis who was so good in The Last Edition who although only 55 is tasked with playing a man ten years older and on the point of forced retirement. Dan is a natural cop and is still fit and raring to carry on. Naturally events conspire to give both father and son the chance to prove themselves and in the most heart-warming fashion.

 

A jewellers run by police supporter, Matthew O'Day (Fred Esmelton) has been infiltrated by a bad sort, Robert Chandler (Nigel Barrie) who is working with gangster A.E. Blair (Harry Northrup) on an elaborate plan to defraud the company by making it pay to get by diamonds already stolen from its vaults. Chandler is assisted by a woman working as a secretary for O’Day, Flora (a young and feisty Thelma Todd), and even an odd-job man; this caper is well organised.


The gang with Thelma Todd on typewriter

But even the best laid plans can go awry and when they do O’Day’s daughter Gwen (Dorothy Gulliver) – Jack’s sweetheart – gets caught up as does Dan who is retired but working as a guard at O’Day’s. Chandler plans to fly his ill-gotten gains away but his is not the only plane in town… the finale is dynamic and multi-channelled – planes crash and burn, a woman gets locked in a safe in a burning building, the tough very much get going, men fight and a dog barks! It’s breathless and the likeable cast make it work very well.

 

The film comes with a new score by Alex Kovacs and audio commentary by professor and film scholar Jason A. Ney.



Skinner’s Dress Suit (1926) 4K Restoration

 

I once saw Kevin Brownlow introduced this film at the Kennington Bioscope and he described how he’d met its star, Reginald Denny, in 1964, many years after the British actor’s silent heyday and after decades of playing stock English characters in the talkies. Brownlow projected the film for Denny and his family and, despite the actor’s fears that the film might “creak” he was rewarded with an emphatically amused response.

 

Skinner's Dress Suit is that rare thing, a genuinely charming comedy featuring two vibrant leads – Denny and the lovely Laura La Plante who cut a rug almost as sharp as her platinum bob. In thrilling style, the two dance the Savannah Shuffle, a variation on the Charleston, before leading a host of society types in trying to learn the steps.

 

Laura and Reg fret

Directed by William A. Seiter a keen golfer and close buddy of Denny’s, the film never strains and the relaxed humour is testament to the compatible temperaments of both men: “we never had an argument, never a cross word, “he told Brownlow, “…and we always brought the picture in within budget...” Seiter was clearly a very able manager of time and people.

 

Skinner (Denny) is an over-reaching and under-achieving office worker whose wife, Honey (Laura La P), keeps egging him on to get a raise. But Skinner not only doesn’t have the nerve he doesn’t really have the edge being walked all over by both his juniors and his superiors. Unable to tell Honey he’s been passed over yet again, he pretends that he’s had a $10 a week raise and the two start extending their credit starting with a party dress for her and a dress suit for him.


Reginald Denny in said suit

Both prove very useful after Skinner is taught the new dance craze, the Savannah, by fellow wage slave Miss Smith (a peppy Betty Morrissey) and simply everyone at the party they attend wants to learn it. Social mobility awaits but in keeping up appearances their credit gets stretched to the limit. But gradually they are accepted by their snooty neighbours, The McLaughlin’s and are invited into higher society.

 

All comes crashing down when a major contract is lost, and Skinner is the man to be let go… he hasn’t the heart to tell Honey as she entertains but has to fight off the repo men gathering for their furniture and the tailor who wants his fine dinner suit back. There’s just one last chance… an invitation to the party of the season held by the Colby’s (Hedda Hopper and Henry Barrows) if they can make an impression Skinner could still save his social standing. Cue Mr Jackson (Lionel Braham) the man who withdrew his contract with Skinners firm and his wife (Lucille Ward) both eager themselves to get introduced to society… You can work out the rest, but the story is so well pitched the resolution works as smoothly and reassuringly as you’d hope.

 

Denny and La Plante

It's a thoroughly enjoyable slice of mainstream silent Hollywood and just edges The Shakedown as the most entertaining of these three. 


The film comes with a new score by Leo Birenberg and audio commentary by film historian and writer David Kalat.  There’s also an excellent collector’s booklet featuring insightful new writing by critic Richard Combs and film writer Andrew Graves.

 

This is great set, and I can’t wait for more as the Universal restoration project proceeds. We’re lucky to be at a point where such a broad range of material is being considered for release and we need to support this as much as we can. The second volume is already available, and you can find further details and order both, from the Eureka website.

 



Sunday, 24 November 2013

Coney Island baby… Lonesome (1928)


“Gee it’s funny how lonesome a fella can be, especially with a million people around him…”

This magical tale straddles the divide between silent and sound and, for me, makes good use of the limitations of the latter without compromising the stunning visual fluidity on show.

Director Paul Fejös had a febrile imagination to accompany his ability to absorb and command technique. Lonesome is brimming with invention as he shows ordinary lives in extraordinary ways… clever motifs, over-layed in montage as he establishes character and situation with barely an inter-title.


His first Hollywood film, The Last Moment (1928), had been about the final seconds of a dying man and here he picks a few pivotal hours in the weekend of a young couple, both of whom are lonely in the big city.

Barbara Kent plays switchboard gal Mary, whilst Glenn Tryon is Jim a factory worker. Both live in small, single room apartments and head off for work each day with no one to say farewell or welcome home. Yet the streets, subways and workplaces are teeming with people and all their friends have romantic partners… it just hasn’t happened for them.

Barbara Kent and Glenn Tryon
The camera follows them around their cramped apartments as they start their working day pulling us into their solitude. They travel to work on crowded subways and the camera switches from one to the other as a double-exposed clock-face ticks down the seconds of their working hours.

The weekend arrives – halfway through Saturday – and the two are persuaded to travel to the beach by the sound of 4th of July bandwagons. They board the same double-decker bus and Jim's eye is caught by the radiance of Mary's smile...


The tone is pushed just beyond normality and whilst the street scenes are recognisably real the beach is more crowded, more frenetic and more submerged in confetti than you’d expect: it’s expressionistic and the influence of Murnau is plain with "European trick shots" aplenty. Fejös later became a documentary film maker and anthropologist of note and here his eye for human behaviour is acute as he shows the crowds milling around enjoying their Coney Island daydreams.


There is a confusion about all the best seaside adventures as anyone who’s walked the Golden Mile on a sunny day will know and Fejös is following his characters’ hearts through an impossible landscape of compacted humanity: their connection hangs by a thread.

Jim pursues Mary through this throng and she responds;allowing him to chase her, teasingly throwing him off the scent as he tries to impress her with his strength. Jim gets told that he will meet his heart’s desire by a fairground machine and the relationship seems to be sure thing.

On the beach... in grainy silence
They go swimming and she loses her ring beginning another surely hopeless search and yet they find it: everything is against the odds and incredible. For a second Jim is confused thinking the wedding ring means Mary is already married but it turns out to be her grandmother’s: could be his day after all.

They get their photographs taken, Mary unguarded, joyful, beauty "passing the test" and Jim insecure, awkward, masculinity... then get closer as they sample the rides and amusement of the Playground of the World.

...and in spotless sound.
There are a three talking sections which Universal insisted on post-production. I think Fejös makes the most of these by using the first two, between Mary and Jim, as fantasy inserts, the actors rigidly posed in sand and studio, explaining each other in awkward formalities forced by the recording situation but also not unlike our first tentative conversations with girlfriends and boyfriends.

Similarly the colourised sections of the film, when Coney Island really lights up, are expressionist inserts showing the colour of love and the hope for happiness...


But, just as we think this story is heading only one way, there’s a fire on the roller-coaster after which the couple get separated. Mary feints and as Jim tries to get to her, he bumps over an officer of the law and is carted off to the fairground police station...

A third talkie tableau sees Jim arguing his innocence with the cruel coppers who almost lock him up for "picking up girls" but who finally let him free...but can he find Mary?

Now the film throws us into despair as Jim and Mary desperately search the amusement park for each other. They’re pushed and jostled, rebuffed by the fairground manager and blasted by wind and rain in the most pathetic of pathetic fallacies… and it works, as you shift anxiously hoping they’ll find each other…


Will the couple find themselves again or are they doomed to return empty handed to their lonely lives amongst the millions? You really need to see for yourself...

Lonesome deserves its reputation as a classic of sweet expressionism and shows that Fejös had a visual style all of his own aided ably by the superbly mobile camera work of Gilbert Warrenton.

Barbara Kent’s unrestrained smile illuminates the screen and enables her to project an honest vulnerability whilst Glenn Tryon is the more deliberately comic – an ordinary Joe (or Jim in this case…) who doesn’t want to blow his big shot at happiness.


I watched the Criterion version which comes with a nifty booklet containing essays about the film and Director. There’s also a fascinating visual essay featuring Fejös reading from his autobiography in the early 60’s: from a medical studies in Hungary to films in Hollywood, Denmark, Madagascar and some of the most remote populations on Earth… he had an amazing career.

There is also a second disc which contains two more Fejös’s films, his 1929 silent, The Last Performance with Conrad Veidt and, most intriguingly, a restored Broadway, his 1929 musical featuring Mr Tryon again alongside the greatly under-rated Evelyn Brent. More on both later…

You’ve all probably got the set already but if not, ‘tis available from Criterion direct and all decent ecommerce practitioners.