THE MALTESE FALCON (Roy Del Ruth, 1931)

 

Private Dick Sam Spade would sell his own mother for a few bucks so it’s no surprise he trades his soul for a “golden goose”, which goes over like a lead falcon. Roy Del Ruth’s competent and enjoyable Pre-Code adaptation of Hammett's novel is forever overshadowed by John Huston’s legendary version, and Ricardo Cortez’s portrayal of the amoral Detective tarnished by Bogart’s classic depiction against which all others are now measured. 

I won’t suffer the tumultuous plot mechanics of “who murdered who” and why, I’ll just point out some rather enjoyable Pre-Code details that make this worth your time. To begin with, the film opens with a panorama of San Francisco and cuts to a silhouette of a kissing couple and a pair of female legs, skirt hiked up, adjusting her stockings as a woman leaves Spade’s office. We get a cute-as-a-button Una Merkel as Spade’s secretary Effie who, for some reason, is smitten with her womanizing and amoral employer. Spade is sleeping with his partner’s wife and, when Archer is gunned down in a filthy alley, is happy to have Archer’s name removed from their office door as quickly as possible! Ricardo Cortez as Sam Spade is much different than later representations and quite possibly more akin to Hammett’s vision. Cortez plays him as a grinning Grifter, a man who loves money more than mercy, a two-timing cheater whose only concern is himself. And he’s proud of it. His ethical toxicity isn’t shrouded in a world-weary cynicism or latent trauma, he’s just a smirking asshole that manipulates people for profit. Cortez plays him so well that even though you don’t trust or respect him, you still find the character interesting. Thelma Todd as Iva Archer his recently widowed squeeze and Bebe Daniels as his mysterious client Ruth Wonderly are both wonderful in their parts, both selfish and scheming which fits the story’s moral pattern quite well. The only innocent is Effie, yet in this Pre-Code affair it’s insinuated that she’s sleeping with the Boss (out of Wedlock, mind you). We get Ms. Wonderly naked in Spade’s bathtub and later she is forced to strip in his kitchen! So much for integrity. This version depicts the homosexual relationship between Casper Gutman (Dudley Digges) and Wilmer Cook (Dwight Frye) as a little more than subtext, as Gutman is emotionally burdened about turning his cohort in as a Fall Guy. I just wish Dwight Frye had a larger part, he’s one of my favorite supporting actors of the era! Interesting to note that all four murders are elided, and we are only privilege to the cunning consequences. Which leads to the film’s major weakness: the dialogue is slowly paced and enunciated which alters the tempo of the entire film. Sound recording and design in 1931 was still in its infancy (or Terrible Twos, I suppose) and here it becomes nearly insufferable. Each sentence is articulated then seconds pass before a response as if to make sure the microphone recorded the dialogue. This could have been minimized with a subtle score that dramatized these breaks, or with physical acting that could fill these voids. Alas, this is a typical early sound film, and the actors are stuck with rigid blocking. 

Even the coda reveals what a narcissistic sociopath Sam Spade is and will always be. Interestingly, Roy Del Ruth shoots him in medium shot gripping the prison bars like he’s the one incarcerated which could be a visual clue that Spade is as trapped in his psychosis as Ruth Wonderly is by her unanimous verdict. Despite the flaws, this is an enjoyable film that is best considered on its own and not in comparison to later versions. 

Final Grade: (C+)

ROAR OF THE DRAGON (Wesley Ruggles, 1932)

 

Edward Everett Horton goes from Civil Engineer to meek and mild-mannered clerk then to full-on fucking Action Hero! Though an inebriated Chauncey Carson (Richard Dix) is the prime protagonist, the film becomes much more interesting with a great supporting cast including the mysterious Gwili Andre, Zasu Pitts, Arline Judge, Toshia Mori, C. Henry Gordon and the above-mentioned Mr. Horton! The direction is quick and well-paced yet allows a few moments of intimacy with the supporting cast, so when the final act explodes, we feel saddened by the loss and sacrifice of the peripheral cast. 

Set in Manchuria (yet filmed in Hollywood, of course), the evil rogue Voronosky (C. Henry Gordon) rapes and pillages the countryside and finally attacks the city of Yolung, where a group of Americans have fortified themselves in a riverside hotel awaiting the chance to escape: will their riverboat be repaired in time? Capt. Carson falls for the fatale femme Natascha (Gwili Andre, looking very Myrna Loy-ish), sex slave to the bandit leader. Various others bicker and argue but must eventually join together to hold off the bandits until the boat is repaired. Most of the film develops the comradery between characters while cross-cutting with the action outside the hotel walls. Fortunately, Capt. Carson has an ace up his sleeve or, more precisely, a .50 caliber machine gun in the tower! 

So, Capt. Carson falls in love with Natascha, Busby (Edward Everett Horton) falls for the ingenue Hortense O’Dare (Arline Judge), while the whiny unnamed character (ZaSu Pitts) adds humor amid the pathos. The film is ripe with contemporary stereotypes and racism, as most of the Asian characters are depicted as savage and inhuman, though we do get a significant supporting role from Toshia Mori who is intelligent and decisive. White entitlement abounds. The final act depicts scores of bandits being machine gunned to death, some writhing in agony amid their death throes! And who is behind the Browning? None other than our pal Edward Everett Horton! Wow! After his girl is shot by a sniper while wrangling up a stray child, he becomes an angel of death raining lead upon the invaders. But it’s Chauncy Carson who gets the final act of heroism, carrying Busby’s broken body through a gauntlet of gunfire and makes the great escape at the very last moment. Voronosky dead and his girl safe in Carson’s arms, the ship departs leaving the dead to bury the dead.

Final Grade: (B-)

TERROR ABOARD (Paul Sloane, 1933, USA)

 

The City of Hope brings salvation to the Dulcina, which has become a floating morgue on the high seas, a ghost ship haunted by bad intentions. Director Paul Sloane and DP Harry Fischbeck deliver a utilitarian and rather mundane film about a mass murderer, eschewing thrills and mystery for tepid vaudeville humor, though it is a rather brutal and sordid affair. It’s melodrama with a high body count! 

The opening scenes are quick and exciting as ghostly lights materialize in the thick fog, as a seemingly abandoned ship careens out of control and almost crashes into the excited crew. Soon, a member of the boarding party is mysteriously clubbed to death, a woman’s lifeless frozen body is discovered on the deck (in 102-degree heat!), another man is found hanged in his cabin, and smoke and fire billow from the boiler room. We get a narratively ambiguous shot of a strange man jumping into the sea (obviously not someone from the boarding crew) and then a partially burnt teletype is found. The story then match-cuts (and jump-cuts) from the teletype, present tense to the past, and we see a well-dressed man reading the now intact message: a man who is obviously the intended recipient of the arrest warrant! The first act builds a modicum of suspense a’ la Mary Celeste, then gives us the explanations for each gruesome discovery before expiring. Turns out, the man reading the note is Maximilian Krieg (John Halliday), owner of the yacht, who is wanted for fraud and facing a lengthy prison sentence. Pushed to wits end, he begins to methodically murder the crew so he and his fiancé Lili (Shirley Grey) can hide away on an isolated atoll. But Lili isn’t so keen on Max anyway, so when her pilot paramour Jim (Neil Hamilton) and his kitten show up, sparks literally fly. In the best Pre-Code WTF? fashion, Jim crashes his plane in the middle of the ocean just to be picked up by Max’s ship! We get emotional violence on multiple levels as a married man is cuckolded by the piano player (Jack La Rue) which leads to the mistress's frozen demise, his neck stretching big sleep, and thus begins a gaggle of gruesomeness. The radioman is shot through the heart (his uniform thick with gushing blood!), the chef is poisoned, the maid tossed overboard and finally the entire crew introduced to Davey Jones’ Locker in one fell swoop. Wow, this may have the second highest body count after James Whale’s THE INVISIBLE MAN! 

The film’s short run time is a benefit since Sloane fails to build suspense, and Fischbeck’s photography really adds nothing to the drama. This could have been an unforgettable thriller, revealing Krieg as a remorseless killer feigning innocence as passengers disappear one by one, but the script gets mired with insubstantial humor from Charlie Ruggles which breaks the tension. Is this meant to be a farce or ferocity, humor or humours? This balancing act is deftly handled in another Pre-Code classic MURDERS IN THE ZOO but here it all falls flat. The premise is so much better than the result. At least Max gets his comeuppance and the mysterious figure jumping into the brine is finally explained, and he becomes chum for Chondrichthyes. 

Final Grade: (C) 

BY CANDLELIGHT (James Whale, 1933)

 

Josef plays at being both a Casanova and a Prince but, in this comedy of errors, learns that love is a dish best served by candlelight. Director James Whale goes full Lubitsch in this lighthearted farce with excellent pacing and camerawork from his DP John Mescall, who tracks the camera and frames the film to make this talky stage-bound drama visually interesting. W. Franke Harling’s score dominates the film throughout its runtime, often seeming like Carl Stalling’s cartoon music complete with sound effects! 

The plot is fairly simple: the Butler Josef (Paul Lukas) meets the beautiful Marie (Elissa Landi) and, believing her to be an Aristocrat, pretends to be his employer Prince Alfred von Romer (Nils Asther) in order to court her. Of course, this all leads to mistaken identities, role playing antics, lots of alcohol consumption, flirting by candlelight (hence the film’s title), all without much accountability except possibly needing a new resume. Josef is finally given away by a solid gold cigarette case before learning of his paramour’s own duplicity! It’s all fluff and circumstance. What I enjoyed most was the relationship between Josef and his boss was shown to be rather intimate and friendly, as the Prince was not condescending or cruel to Josef even when the ruse was discovered: the Prince even spontaneously played the part of Butler to help Josef get the girl! And the call-back comes in the third act with the “blown fuse” (how’s that for subtext) when the Prince, pretending to be a manservant, carries the candelabra into the study as Josef makes his moves on Marie in the dark. Which Josef did in the first act for the Prince, a seeming nightly duty to include fluffing a second pillow for the bed! How’s that for Pre-Code. 

The film’s weak point is in the sometimes-annoying performance from Paul Lukas, as he becomes a bit too whiny and whimperish. Elissa Landi as his inamorata is sometimes too strident in her caterwauling (ala I LOVE LUCY) though she plays coy with subtle flair. Nils Asther is fine in the Noble supporting role, playing his character with class and dignity. However, by today’s standards Josef and the Prince probably commit at least a dozen misdemeanor sex crimes against their dates! An enjoyable romantic comedy that doesn’t quite reach screwball status.

Final Grade: (C+)

BLONDIE OF THE FOLLIES (Edmond Goulding, 1932)

 

Blondie may sell her body to the richest man but retains her soul, her fierce friendship a bond whose tensile strength is severely tested but never broken. Goulding’s film focuses squarely upon Marion Davies as the titular ingenue, as we experience her character arc from adorable precociousness to forlorn maturity, her strident personality filling nearly every frame. In a nice meta-parody, Marion Davies and Jimmy Durante mock Garbo and Barrymore from Goulding’s own GRAND HOTEL, filmed earlier in 1932! 

From their first fisticuffs and hair-pulling brawl to their final crippling assault, Blondie and her best pal Lotte (Billie Dove) break-up, break bones, break hearts and break bad but always make up. This is a film about their friendship from poverty to penthouse, how they must commodify their flesh to attain financial security, and the consequences suffered. Lotte becomes the socialite Lurline, her faux French subjugating her street slang, her new persona worn like an expensive gown...and just as easily removed.  The conflict begins with a Mother’s Day visit to Blondie’s family in their downtown tenement, flaunting her wealth (and accent) and bragging about her employment in the Follies. Blondie is naive and virtuous and soon follows her best friend uptown, whose paramour Larry Belmont (Robert Montgomery) then falls in love with her. Now, Larry is a cad whose objectification of women is typical of the era, his sexual exploits with the dancers revealed not as subtext but declaration! Gotta love Pre-Code films! Though Larry breaks-up with Lurline, he doesn’t “dump” her as continues his financial support. He’s also brutally honest with her but not overtly cruel in his pursuit of Blondie, who is having none of his foolishness. This eventually ends with Blondie’s being purposely “whipped” into the orchestra pit where she suffers permanent disability. But what’s a broken leg between friends? 

This film also has one of the most emotionally crushing father/daughter scenes, as Blondie’s father berates her for coming home drunk then later apologizes for being an “old time Pa”. Of course, the narrative follows the rule of “Chekhov's Health”; if you mention an illness in the first act it’s damn well going to be fatal by the third! And I have to mention Zasu Pitts as Blondie’s older sister because she always makes a film better by appearing, even in a small supporting role. 

Final Grade: (B)

BLOOD MONEY (Rowland Brown, 1933)

 

Bail Bondsman Bill Bailey doesn’t bother to wipe the blood off his money before he spends it and soon ends up behind the eight-ball. Director/Writer Rowland Brown’s tempestuous tale of Underworld undesirables posits a morally compromised protagonist as our sympathetic nexus, a man who grifts elderly matrons for collateral and advises his ‘clients” to abscond when a guilty verdict seems certain. Bill Bailey has stared so long into the abyss of human behavior that it has consumed him. It’s to George Bancroft’s credit as our protagonist that his presence is like the bad child that we chastise yet still love unconditionally. Bancroft channels Wallace Beery’s childlike insouciance into a character we care about...but shouldn’t!

The somewhat convoluted plot involves Bailey putting up bail money for his mistress Ruby Darling’s (Judith Anderson) brother who robbed a bank and made away with $500,000 in mostly worthless bonds. But Bailey falls for a rich girl Elaine Talbert (Frances Dee), daughter of a pineapple pioneer, who seems an ingenue but in truth is a sadomasochistic seductress. When Bailey is set up by his criminal cohorts for going to the police when Ruby’s brother skips town and supposedly takes the bail money (and Elaine) with him, a potentially explosive climax ensues.

BLOOD MONEY is a down and dirty Pre-Code film from a different aspect, neither purely gangster nor pro-law enforcement: the bail Bondsman walks that moral tightrope between the two. The film opens with a man packing his suitcase for quick getaway. His girl chides him until she opens the door to two detectives who are there to arrest him. BAM! Guy punches girl squarely in the face. Not a slap, mind you, full-on five-fingered fist! The next scene involves a clerk trying to get bail paperwork signed for the guy, sitting at a Judge’s bedside in the middle of the night. The medium shot makes sure to reveal both husband and wife in bed together! Another scene depicts a cross-dressing woman making a sissy joke to our gruff protagonist. Ha! Then we get moral corruption as business as usual until Elaine is introduced, an entitled woman in search of domination. She says so herself. In one of the final scenes, Elaine meets a desperately upset girl who just ran away from an “artist” who tried to rape her. Elaine becomes sexually charged and demands the address and she is last seen running towards his apartment. Wow.

Solid photography from DP James Van Trees with nice compositions and crowded tracking shots. The finale utilizes some nice suspenseful crosscutting that Hitchcock would later perfect. It’s an enjoyable Pre-Code romp through upside down morality and perverted obsessions.

Final Grade: (B)

20,000 YEARS IN SING SING (Michael Curtiz, 1932)

 

Convicted Felon Tommy Connors gets 5-30 years in stir where he learns he is no longer King of the Hill, but just another maggot in the flock. Michael Curtiz’s sharp direction with brutal and unflattering performances between Spencer Tracey (Convict, Tommy Connors) and his nemesis Arthur Byron (Warden, Paul Long) make this story of moral conflict absolutely entertaining, even if your disbelief needs more than suspending...but murdered outright! 

Tommy is sent up the Hudson River to the brutal gulag of Sing Sing for Robbery, Assault, and various other violations of the Crimes Code, especially when they occur on a Saturday. A gangster with a violent history who is used to getting his own way through intimidation and force, he is brought back down to Earth (and his cell) by the Warden who runs his prison with a steel fist (but kind heart). Throw in sleazy lawyer Joe Finn (Louis Calhern) and Tommy’s adorable gal Fay Wilson (Bette Davis), and you have a war upon two fronts! Tommy eventually bends his will (and knee) to his overseer, and both earn each other's grudging respect. When Fay is fatally injured in a traffic accident (she actually attempted suicide), the Warden allows Tommy a 24-hour release on his honor, to return to Sing Sing after he pays his last respects to his gal. But Tommy and his attorney no longer see eye to eye (more like fist to fist), and during the brawl, Joe is shot dead by the bedridden Fay. Of course, Tommy grabs the gun and takes the fall. Headlines denounce the Warden and his “scouts honor” approach to rehabilitation while Tommy remains at large, but the Warden holds steadfast in his judgment of Tommy and awaits his return, even though it means the chair, as in the kind you plug in. Tommy returns on his own, Fay’s body heals but her heart is broken, and he faces electric consequences not for his behavior...but hers! I suppose no one would believe the truth, that she killed her abuser Joe Finn in defense of Tommy and herself.

The great DP Barney McGill films in an almost documentary style seemingly on location which adds verisimilitude to the narrative. McGill captures the claustrophobia of prison life, the crowded yet lonely existence of the inmates, as their regimented pantomime belies the soul-crushing despair they all must feel. After the credits where numbers announce each inmate's sentence (I suppose this equals 20,000), we get an airplane shot of a train racing towards its destination. This isn’t a miniature composition and is one of the first establishing shots via airplane I can remember in a Pre-Code drama! There is an exciting jail break sequences that involves murdered guards, tear gas and an intricate lock-picking mechanism built with stolen parts from the machine shop. Since it’s Saturday, Tommy doesn’t partake of the rumble and therefore earns his 24-hour vacation though his sentence is eventually the same as the conspirators. 

Overall, a decent film that may minimize the reality of contemporary prison abuses and presents lengthy incarceration and Capital Punishment as deterrent and redemptive consequences. And if you’re wondering, a group of maggots is a rumble, not a flock. 

Final Grade: (B)