Love is in the air… Christopher Strong (1933)/ Merrily We Go to Hell (1932), BFI Dorothy Arzner Season

 

I’m not sure if I watched this film looking for Dorothy Arzner but found her anyway in yet another film in which heteronormative behaviour is gently challenged. In both these films, there is a direct challenge to the sanctity of marriage with the wanderings of the heart illustrating the soulful complexities that can work against relationships forged by societal expectation and rigidly “enforced” moral rules. But as with Arzner’s other work, they show women’s agency and place them at the forefront of the moral challenges and, ultimate decisions.

 

Christopher Strong achieves this critique through the initial presentation of exemplars of this morality; a man who has always been faithful to his wife and a woman who has never been in love or in a relationship with a man. The previously unthinkable is soon drawn together as these two fall in love and begin a sexual adventure that is in complete opposition to their lives and morality up to that point. If the unexpected can happen to them it can happen to you, whatever it is.

 

Now then, the idea that Kathryn Hepburn’s daredevil Lady Cynthia Darrington might be tempted into lustful union by Colin Clive’s stuffed shirted Sir Christopher Strong, is another thing altogether; it’s a mismatch both in terms of acting ability and star power, Hepburn is magnetic and intense whilst Clive is rather dreary but maybe that’s the point. He would do more impressive work before his untimely death and I don’t mean to be unfair. This was, however, only Hepburn’s second screen role and first as the star and she carries the dramatic weight very well along with one other performer.

 

Sir Christopher and Lady Cynthia are brought together as the above examples by his daughter Monica (Helen Chandler) at a gathering of bright young things at a London party thrown by her aunt Carrie Valentine (Irene Browne). Monica is young and naïve and also involved in an affair with the very married Harry Rawlinson (Ralph Forbes) which might be one of the prompts for Aunt Carrie to declare a scavenger hunt in which the women must find that steadfast married man and the men a woman previously missed by Cupid’s arrow.

 

So it is that adventuress meets the politician and their priorities begin to change. What makes this story so poignant is the performance of Billie Burke as Lady Elaine Strong, who’s open-hearted ethereality – so well used in The Wizard of Oz as the Good Witch of the North – makes her perfect for the innocent wife at the heart of this otherwise two-sided love triangle. This being Arzner the drama pivots around Mother, Daughter and Flyer as much as the lovers.

 

Sir Christopher tries to stop Cynthia’s flying but we all know what that means: she needs to be free not just from him but from expectation. As she says, “courage can conquer even love…” and she has records to break and round the world races to win; she must be true to herself.

 

Directed by Dorothy Arzner with help from Tommy Atkins, the adaptation was written by Zoë Akins based on Gilbert Frankau’s novel. Hepburn and Arzner did not enjoy the smoothest of working relationships and it shows in some of the film’s unevenness but there are many fine moments, not least when Cynthia appears all dressed up as a silver moth for a fancy dress party… she looks unearthly and someone who should fly far, far away from Sir Christopher.

 

There are some fine dramatic moments, lovely-looking aircraft and a superbly suggestive sequence as highlighted by Pamela Hutchinson on the discussion at the start of the season in which we see only Cynthia’s braceleted forearm is seen as she and Christopher talk warmly in post-coital intimacy about their situation; has he brought her down to ground, is she bound by his gift… voluntarily, forever? It’s delightfully subtle film making.

“First she gave me gingerbread and then she gave me cake; and then she gave me crème de menthe for meeting her at the gate.”

  

In Merrily We Go to Hell (1932) Sylvia Sidney’s Joan Prentice is faced with similar decisions regarding Fredric March’s intoxicated Jerry Corbett who’s so out of touch with his feelings that he substitutes “swell” for “love” in all his praises. Swell is defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary (no longer Moroccan-bound but online, if you know your Bing and Bob…) as a generalized term of enthusiasm but that’s not really good enough if you’re seriously committed and Joan simply deserves that.

 

This more comedic offering presents a heart-breaking take on a good man laid low by alcoholism; March’s Jerry is a charmer, even when drunk, but when he gets drunk he goes the whole hog and clearly there’s a deeper issue. Even his friend Vi (Esther Howard) warns her off before relenting knowing how intelligent, witty and kind he can be.

 

Joan has been used to every luxury Corbett. I never taught her the value of money only as I didn’t intend she’d ever have to know it…

 

Joan’s father, Mr. Prentice (George Irving) is altogether more suspicious and he offers Jerry $50,000 to give up Joan but he’s not taking any amount even though her father describes her as just a child… he wants them to wait until she is sure. But we are sure, says his daughter, we are sure, aren’t we Jerry. You’re sure of everything when you’re in love…

 

So, there’s a class issue here – as well as over-protective masculinity - but Joan is remarkably self-determined, she knows her own mind and is only let down by the men in her life. Her father is perfectly right in his instinct that Jerry might be a waster and the journalist soon does his level best to prove him right by getting drunk and incapable on the evening of the reception where the engagement is to be announced.

 

Joan’s in love enough to go through with the wedding but there’s a Arzner moment when, having forgotten the ring, Jerry has to use a bottle opener he finds in his tuxedo for Joan’s wedding ring. The worst of all starts, but Joan forgives him again as she does when he drops their Thanksgiving turkey… he’s trying and she sees something in him that he hasn’t quite found himself.

 

Encouraged/financed by Prentice, Jerry writes plays and finally gets one accepted, a satirical comedy called When Women Say No which is to be produced in New York. A success at least, what could possibly go wrong? Well, his former paramour Claire Hempstead (Adrianne Allen) is exactly what the doctor wouldn’t order, she’s encourages his drinking, rewrites some of her part and, of course, makes a play for the playwright…

 

Sir, if I said yes I should mean no and if I said no I should mean yes but my silence is all true and for you…

 

It’s almost as if Jerry wrote the play with Claire in mind and these lines reflect the ambivalence in his own communication and commitment, hiding his uncertainties behind witty circumlocution. On the opening night he succumbs to temptation deliberately placed in her dressing room and is pie-eyed by the time he is pulled on stage to take his bow. Joan asks his pal Buck (Richard "Skeets" Gallagher) to look after him but he’s senseless by the time he gets home in the early hours.

 

You can’t be a doormat!

 

I’m not a doormat, you don’t know how sweet and fine Jerry really… I know what I’m doing.

 

Soon he succumbs to Claire’s temptation whilst Joan responds by dating fellow cast member Charlie Baxter (some fellow called Cary Grant) and the rift deepens… Joan has to fight her father and her husband’s weakness/illness to get what she wants but it’s not a simple or straightforward path yet she has the strength.

 

March makes for a very good drunk but Sylvia Sidney is superb, her face alive with so much emotion, vulnerable, quaking and yet steadfast and resolute. Arzner may have been the only woman directing film in the Thirties but there were so many fascinating actresses and she worked with a number of them.

 

Merrily we go to Hell.

 

Merrily you go to your girlfriend.

 

This is no easy ride.

 

Boom time for Clara Bow… The Wild Party (1929)

“…she was the outstanding flaming youth and she was flaming…”

One of the gems in the recently-published Silent Women – Pioneers of Cinema is a 1977 interview conducted by Kevin Brownlow with Dorothy Arzner – just about the only female director for most of thirties and forties Hollywood.

Arzner started as an editor working on Blood and Sand amongst others before her irresistible talent propelled her to a position from which Paramount had to let her make her own films. In another chapter of the book, Francesca Stephens, describes how she brought an unique sensibility to the development of female characters – not just a subversion of the all-pervading male gaze but a presentation of believable and real personas.

A group of students yesterday

This could hardly be more apparent than in the opening scenes of The Wild Party as Clara Bow and her mates clown around in the dorm, relaxed and thoroughly modern. Clara Bow? Wasn’t she terrified of microphones and doomed to fail in the talkies? Well, no actually, this film was a success and she would carry on making films for a few years yet before her personal problems over took her.

Clara was a kinetic actress though and to enable her full range of expression Arzner devised the boom microphone, getting her sound man to lash the mic to a broom in order to allow both artists and camera to move more freely. So, rather than hover nervously within range of a static mic, Clara is free to run wild and gives a compelling and genuine performance…

Clara's tears

One of the most under-rated actresses of the era, Bow was an emoting wonder able to hover between tears and smiles all in one moment of unconscious flow and here Arzner was able to harness this all in a sound context. And the voice? Pretty good as it goes no trace of Brooklyn to my anglo-ears and clear diction that sounds more relaxed and natural than some of her fellow actors including from line-to-time co-star Fredric March.

In fairness Fred has less to work with in a film that focuses, remarkably, on women; he’s there as the token male interest in a story that is about female loyalty, betrayal and love. The women aren’t perfect but young, competitive, ambitious, scheming, daft and willful... just as you and I.

All dressed down and nowhere to go

Clara plays Stella Ames, the loudest and most liked gal in her dorm of the all-girl Winston College. She is, as has been said elsewhere, very like Clara Bow or at least the Clara we think we know: bubbly, flirty, sassy and never someone to let a good party get in the way of study.

Her best pal, Helen Owens (Shirley O'Hara), couldn’t be more different, chained to her desk studying hard and aiming high whilst the others gallivant. There’s a Babs (Adrienne Dore) – there had to be! – and a gaggle of wise-crackin’, nail-paintin’, gum-chewin’ pals who generally treat schooling as that dreary period of obligation sandwiched between the hangover and the hair of the dog: Mazie (Alice Adair), Thelma (Kay Bryant), Gwen (Marguerite Cramer) and more.

Beau Peep (Marceline Day) takes exception to the girls' cozzies

Balanced against this is the straight-laced Faith Morgan (a third-billed but underused Marceline Day) – something like the Head Girl who makes no secret of her disdain for the 24 hour party people. But then there’s the college creep, Eva Tutt (Joyce Compton) who’ll split on anyone if she thinks she’ll benefit.

Given the girl’s lifestyles, Eva will find plenty of tales to tell and she listens well to Stella’s story of accidentally climbing into the wrong bed bunk on the train returning from vacation. The bunk is already occupied by a handsome man and the two narrowly avoid reputational damage.

The female gaze: Marceline Day

However, there's a new anthropology teacher and Stella realises that her temporary bunk-mate is none other than Professor James 'Gil' Gilmore (Fredric March) – queue rom-com friction between attracted opposites.

Stella is easily convinced by Gil’s critique of her work and abilities that she’s better off sticking to the party life but an excursion to the wrong side of the tracks leads them closer. There’s a genuinely unpleasant sequence in which the girls are harassed by a group of toughs who proceed to kidnap Stella with who knows what intention. The other girls alert Gil who runs off after the car cutting across the country roads to intervene and rescue the distressed dame.

One the run with the Professor

The relieved couple soon fall into each other’s arms but back in class it’s business as usual and Stella resumes her partying ways… the film isn’t quite ready to succumb to narrative convention just yet.

The focus shifts back to the girls and the relationships between Stella and her best friend Helen. Helen is compromised after attending a party in which she spends hours alone on a beach with a man talking. Afterwards she vows to focus on her studies and achieve the top scholarship but all will be threatened by tell-tale Eva who’s out to well, just be mean to everyone as often as possible.

Stella gets a tough time in class

She also has Stella and Gil in her sights after spotting their late night re-union after he has been shot in the shoulder by the bad guys from the bar…

She has enough to blackmail her way to an easy pass and to get her enemies expelled… the only thing standing in her way is Stella’s sense of decency… she hasn’t got a chance.

OK, the story isn’t a million miles away from so many others of the period but what makes the film stand out is the focus on the women – the men are almost incidental and surely this is one of the few films that would pass the Bechdel test?

Clara and Shirley O'Hara after a conversation purely about academic attainment

Arzner brings out the best in Clara Bow making it hard to credit the struggles that were to follow. She seems every bit as powerful as in silence and that, given those tales of mic-fright says much about Arzner’s direction as well as her remarkable moment of invention.

Annoyingly, like so many of Clara’s films, The Wild Party isn’t available on DVD. There’s a decent copy at the Internet Archive (as Stella's Merits) indicating that it's public domain… why then doesn’t somebody clean it up and release a bit more of Clara to the World?

As Dorothy said to Kevin: “Clara Bow’s quality was like a gamin… she was full of animation and full of the projection of her thinking and emotion through the screen… a natural because… she understood the emotional content…”

Silent Women is available direct from Supernova Books. Every silent home should have one!