Review - Hard to Handle

December 20, 2018

Hard to Handle – US, 1933

What does it say that my first thought after finishing Mervyn LeRoy’s Depression-era film Hard to Handle was “Poor Mr. Hayden”? To understand the peculiarity of such a sentiment, it might help to know that Mr. Hayden is a relatively minor character in the film. If I had to speculate, I’d say he has about ten minutes of screen time (but as Anthony Hopkins can attest, it’s not the amount of screen time that counts; it’s what you do with it), and the character goes through the kinds of humiliations that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy – mocked by models he’s photographing, pushed out of rooms by greedy characters not content with his $25,000 salary. (Did I mention the film was released during the Depression?) In fact, by the end of the film, he’s been thrown aside as if he were a joke, and yet he’s the character I had the most empathy for. So, just what does that say for the rest of the film and its famous star? Nothing good, I’m afraid.

The central problem with the film lies with its lead character, an up-and-coming publicist named “Lefty” Merrill. (With a name like that, I expected him to be a boxer, but I digress.) The beginning of the film finds him financially backing one of those dance marathons in which the last couple standing is the winner. When we first see the dancers, they are exhausted, the spectators both enthralled and spent, the host throwing out sympathetic (and occasionally sexist) one-liners, and Merrill smiling all the way to the bank. This would be fine, except that almost immediately Merrill goes into a speech about how gullible the public is, going so far as to describe them as cows waiting to be milked. This from the film’s supposed protagonist. So, here’s a character who loathes the public, seeing them as easily manipulated, and plots ingenious ways to promote things to them that they have either no need for or no chance of profiting from. One of his efforts even results in a rather destructive melee. Gee, I hope he gets the girl in the end.

Lefty’s girlfriend, who just happens to be one of the final contestants, is Ruth Waters (Mary Brian), a nice-enough girl who loves Lefty when he’s down and out, but only likes him when he’s successful. Their romantic moments are awkward to say the least. At several points in the film, Lefty kisses her so “passionately” that Ruth says, “That hurt.” Her “loving” boyfriend’s reply: “That’s love.” My response: That’s ridiculous. While her character is clearly meant to be the moral conscience of the film, it’s interesting that the character never takes a position on the immorality of Lefty’s methods or his disdain for ordinary people. As long as her man does it, she seems to tell herself, it must be righteous. The problem is that our own eyes tell us differently.

The essential plot of the film is boy loves girl, boy loses girl, boy moves to the other side of the country to find girl, boy must make something of himself in order to get girl. This scenario is not a novel one and wasn’t even at the time of the film’s release, but for it to work, we have to get behind the boy. I never did. Cagney plays Lefty with the same energy and speed that he exhibits when playing gangsters, the only difference being the frequent twinkle in his eye, and yet even as great an actor as he cannot make Lefty entirely sympathetic, especially after he appears not to deflect the advances of another woman, which is probably what earned the film its “pre-code” credentials. Still, we’re expected to root for him to get his girl back as he darts down flights of stairs in pursuit of the wronged woman.

Adding comedy to the film is the character of Ruth’s mother, played by Ruth Donnelly, despite being just ten years older than Brian and looking it. The character is spirited and sarcastic, and her sole requirement for her daughter’s suitors is that they be rich. This means that she tells Lefty she hopes he rots in Sing Sing at the beginning of the film and lavishes praise on him when the dough starts rolling in. This would be fine if the contradiction were commented on, yet no one, not even Mr. Hayden seems bothered by it. A wiser film would have let Lefty and Hayden (Galvin Gordon) wax sardonically about the sudden changes and give Donnelly the chance to react. Hard to Handle doesn’t even let the men roll their eyes.

There’s also something inherently spiteful about the film. Made at a time when people were truly suffering, it presents a view of America that is an illusion. Sure, financial hardship is mentioned once or twice, yet no one appears to actually be suffering or in any danger of losing their job or livelihood. More time is spent trying to prove that a man like Lefty can manipulate people by promising them fame and fortune. Now there is some prophesy in this, for it’s hard to deny that these are the motivating factors in the rise of such things as reality TV and YouTube. However, the film is not set at a time when such efforts were choices. In the 1930s, that extra $500 offered in a contest could be the difference between having a home and being homeless, and the film conveniently ignores this. Instead, we get scenes of Lefty smirking as people scurry frantically for a lifeline. This says much more about him (and Hollywood) than it does the people he fancies himself superior to. It also makes him a character not to root for, and it doesn’t take a genius to see the challenges this presents. (on DVD as part of Forbidden Hollywood: Volume 5)

2 stars

Review – Mister Roberts

July 9, 2010

Mister Roberts – U.S., 1955

Most of John Ford and Marvin LeRoy’s film adaptation of the 1948 Tony-award winning play Mister Roberts takes place on a cargo ship oddly christened the USS Reluctant. I suppose the name is intended to be symbolic, to say something about the men on the boat or perhaps about the man who captains it. Still, I can’t think of a scenario in which someone in the military would look at a photo of the ship and say, “Let’s call it the Reluctant.” He’d likely be greeted with incredulous expressions and requests for confirmation that what he had just said was not a joke. In the film, the crew of the Reluctant has come to call their sea home “the Bucket,” which I’m not sure is not much of an upgrade.

The crew is made up of the usual hardworking bunch that we’re used to seeing in war films. They follow orders when they are given, although not always in the most professional way. They complain to each other, try to get out of cargo duty, and often come close to engaging in fist fights. They are clearly stressed, and much of the tension they feel is the result of not having had shore leave, here referred to as “liberty,” for a year. They receive support and understanding from Lt. JG Douglas Roberts (Henry Ford) and the ship’s doctor – referred to only as “Doc” (William Powell). However, neither of these two men have the power to change the crew’s situation. That power resides in the hands of Captain Morton (James Cagney), who like Captain Francis Queeg a year earlier in The Caine Mutiny runs things by-the-book even though doing so has a detrimental effect on the morale of the crew.

In most war films, members of the armed forces simply can’t wait to get into battle. Filled with patriotic fervor, they are usually willing and ready to fight against their country’s enemies. In Mister Roberts, only Lt. Roberts expresses such sentiments outwardly. In the beginning of the film, he sees a formation of battleships and carriers through his binoculars and pictures himself there with them. Roberts worries that the war will be over soon and that he will not have been a part of it. His solution to this is to repeatedly put in requests for a transfer. However, his requests must go through Captain Morton, and he repeatedly denies them. He sees too much value in keeping Roberts on board. After all, it’s not everyone who can command as much respect and admiration from his crew as Roberts does.

The main drama in Mister Roberts has to do with Roberts trying to win his crew their much needed liberty. This requires great sacrifice on his part, and there are plenty of strings attached. One of them is absolute silence about both the details and the existence of the deal. This creates problems, as the men misinterpret Roberts’ new demeanor.

Mister Roberts contains impressive performances by each of the film’s lead actors. This includes Jack Lemmon’s performance as Ens. Frank Thurlowe Pulver, for which Lemmon won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor. To be honest, I’m not quite sure what to make of this character. While he’s entertaining and funny, he’s also lazy and unmotivated. There’s no evidence that he shares Roberts’ desire to be on the front lines, and yet I have a feeling that Ensign Pulver is meant to be seen as a sympathetic character, as the kind of man that Roberts confesses his deepest respect for later in the film. Warner Bros. apparently thought so highly of the character that they brought it back in 1964 in a sequel appropriately entitled Ensign Pulver. Lemmon did not return for that film, however.

In 1948, Henry Fonda won a Tony for his portrayal of Lt. Roberts in the original Broadway production of the play, so I imagine he knew the play and its characters rather well. According to IMDB, Fonda felt the film version lacked the quality of the stage version. He may have been right. I have not seen the stage version, but I have a feeling that some of the dialogue and choreography in the film would seem more believable in a play. In a play, characters can recite long speeches much more easily than they can in films. The stage also allows characters to move in somewhat unnatural ways. In films, long speeches, snappy dialogue, and unexpected physical movements, such as a character suddenly marching in an invisible line without anyone around to observe him, which Lt. Roberts does, may seem rather unrealistic, while appearing completely natural on stage.

Still, Mister Roberts is a very moving film. We see the goodness of the crew and feel for them. In addition, we admire Roberts’ courage and concern for the crew, while still coming to understand Capt. Morton and his methods. It’s said that the U.S. Navy disapproved of the film because of the way Capt. Morton was portrayed. It’s easy to see why they would have this viewpoint. However, by the end of the film, there’s enough patriotism in the air to dispel any negative feelings that Capt. Morton’s personality may have created. Mister Roberts is worth taking a chance on. (on DVD)

3 and a half stars

Review – Yankee Doodle Dandy

May 28, 2010

Yankee Doodle Dandy – U.S., 1942

I have a feeling that contemporary audiences may have a hard time relating to Michael Curtiz’s 1942 film Yankee Doodle Dandy, which chronicles the life of one of the most successful performers of all time, George M. Cohan. First, I suspect that they have a hard time relating to classic musicals, especially ones in which the musical numbers do little to advance the plot, which unfortunately is true of Curtiz’s musical. In fact, almost every musical number in the film occurs as part of one of Mr. Cohan’s musicals, and if an audience member does not find these musicals particularly interesting (and musical tastes have changed greatly), that’s a problem. In addition, it’s possible that present-day moviegoers are not as knowledgeable of Mr. Cohan as previous generations were. To be honest, prior to watching the film, I had really only heard Mr. Cohan’s music in my middle school music class and my high school AP history class. In the middle school class, we were simply given a book to sing out of for thirty minutes, but not given any background knowledge of the songs we were singing. I don’t remember even being aware of the fact that “Over There” was about World War II. In the latter class, we heard “Over There” during a lesson about patriotic wartime songs, some of which were not what we would consider politically correct nowadays. However, even in that class, not much was said of the man who penned the legendary tune.

Yankee Doodle Dandy begins in 1936, the year in which Mr. Cohan made his triumphant return to the stage playing the then current president, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, in the musical “I’d Rather Be Right.” After a performance, Mr. Cohan receives a letter from the White House saying that the President would like to meet with him. Mr. Cohan is not told why the President want to see him, and he’s a bit worried that the President may have taken offense to the way Mr. Cohan is portraying him on stage. Soon he is sitting in front of the President telling him his life story. Personally, I doubt whether the President would really have had a spare two hours to hear Mr. Cohan’s story, especially during the Depression and in light of events that were occurring in both Asia and Europe, but this is the technique the film uses to allow Cohan to tell us his life story.

We then see bits and pieces of Cohan’s early life. We see the day he was born, which according to legend was the Fourth of July in 1878 (he was actually born a day earlier). We also see him a few years later performing with his family as part of an act known as the Four Cohans. As the years go by, Cohan develops a bit of an ego, for which his family suffers somewhat. He grows wiser with the years, yet the ego never truly leaves him. He meets Mary, the woman he’ll later marry, and Sam Harris, the man who will be his business partner for fifteen years. He has countless hit shows, many of which have patriotic themes, a fact that leads some critics to contend that his shows are nothing more than sentimental song-and-dance numbers lacking both story and drama. Cohan responds to such comments by saying, “I’m an ordinary man who knows what ordinary guys want to see.” After the Lusitania is sunk, signaling the beginning of the U.S.’s involvement in World War I, Cohan tries unsuccessfully to enlist (he’s too old). The senior recruiting officer explains that Cohan is needed on the home front, and shortly after, he gets the inspiration for “Over There.” The song will become known all over the United States.

Yankee Doodle Dandy is a rather ambitious film. It attempts to tell the story of Cohan’s family, from their early road shows, which included minstrels, to their later years in Cohan’s Broadway musicals. We also get the story of Cohan’s relationship with Mary, a love that starts sweet and remains so throughout the film. Last, we get Cohan’s solo career, from his unsuccessful auditions to his lavish patriotic productions. Oddly enough, it was this last part that I found least interesting. I suspect the reason for this is that the scenes did little more than provide visual evidence of Cohan’s patriotism and multiple talents, both of which had already been well established. However, watching the Four Cohans was like stepping into a time capsule and seeing a fascinating part of the American experience that simply no longer exists. In addition, Cohan’s wife, Mary, is perhaps one of the sweetest characters every put on film. Watch how she handles the news that a song her husband wrote for her has been given to someone else. It’s pure magic.

Yankee Doodle Dandy is sometimes hailed as one of the best American films of all time. The American Film Institute ranked it #98 on their list of the greatest films of all time in 2007, and renowned film critic Roger Ebert includes it on his list of Great Films. However, the film appears to not be appealing to people the way it used to. As evidence, the film currently only ranks 7.8 on IMDB, and while the film does have a 91% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, only 23 people have ranked the film. In contrast, Chicago has been ranked by over two hundred people. (The film is rated significantly higher on Amazon, yet so is a CD of William Shatner’s and Leonard Nimoy’s greatest hits.)

What do all of these numbers and rankings mean? Maybe nothing. It certainly says nothing about the quality of Yankee Doodle Dandy, for the film remains heartfelt, informative, and surprisingly moving. James Cagney delivers a truly superb performance, and it’s easy to see why he often cited the movie as his favorite of all his films. His dancing may be a bit stiff, yet it is still incredibly impressive. In fact, I find myself wishing I could move my feet as fast as he does in the film. Yankee Doodle Dandy may not have aged as well as other films, but it remains a film that is certainly worth watching. (on DVD)

3 and a half stars

*James Cagney won Best Actor for his performance in Yankee Doodle Dandy.

Review – Blood on the Sun

April 7, 2009

Blood on the Sun – U.S., 1945

Hollywood is a terrible place to look for historical truth. Over the years, Hollywood films have developed certain annoying habits when it comes to presenting non-fiction. In some Hollywood products such as The Last King of Scotland, Hoffa, and JFK, fictitious characters are inserted into real events as if they are somehow needed to explain events better. However, what Blood on the Sun does with history in the name of entertainment is truly astonishing, and not always in a good way. Here are a few undisputed facts about the events and characters in the film: Giichi Tanaka served as both the Foreign Affairs Minister and the Prime Minister of Japan from 1927 to 1929. During his tenure, he continued policies that were aggressive towards China, Manchuria, and Mongolia and even prevented Chiang Kai-shek’s from unifying China at least three times. Tanaka eventually fell out of the Emperor’s favor after advocating that Japanese officers that had assassinated a Manchurian warlord and attempted to invade Manchuria be court-martialed. Tanaka eventually resigned from his posts and a few months later died. What is unclear, however, is Tanaka’s role in a document that became known as the Tanaka Memorial Imperialist Conquest Plan, a detailed plan for the subjugation of Manchuria, Mongolia, and eventually all of China. While Japanese historians have presented the document as a forgery, Chinese history books contain references to it and treat it as if its authenticity has been proven.

In Director Frank Lloyd’s 1945 film Blood on the Sun, the document and the plans outlined on it are indeed real, only the scope of the plans has been expanded. Tanaka’s plan, like the plans of one of James Bond’s many nemeses, is for world domination, and despite the fact that the film takes place in the 1930s, Tanaka (played by John Emery), referred to in the film’s prelude as the “Oriental Hitler,” is very much alive. In fact, joining him on his mad quest are other important figures from history, the ruthless but very direct Col. Hideki Tojo (Robert Armstrong) and Secret Police Captain Yamamoto (Philip Ahn), who by his own admission is looking forward to accepting America’s surrender at the White House. Japan, as presented in the film, is a country under tight control. Newspaper content must be approved, and spies seem to be everywhere. How do we know this? Because they’re lousy at hiding. Japan’s future, we’re told, lies in rescuing Japanese women from the chains that Japan’s male-dominated society forces them to wear, a common stereotype that the film mentions once and then forgets about. In addition, it appears that every foreigner in Japan just can’t wait to leave. One character goes so far as to say, “[Nick], you’re all we’re going to miss of this place.”

The Nick that the character refers to is Nick Condon (James Cagney), a tough-as-nails, no-nonsense reporter for the Tokyo Chronicle. As the film opens, an article that Nick wrote leaking Tanaka’s plans for Asia has raised the ire of government and police officials. They want him to write a retraction, claiming the rumors are simply a diversion from China. How he gets out of doing so is clever to say the least. At the same time, Nick’s long-time, cash-strapped friend Oliver Miller (Wallace Ford) suddenly announces he is leaving Japan and that he has money to burn. However, someone has other plans, and soon Oliver and his wife Edith (Rosemary DeCamp) are murdered. Before Oliver dies though, he hands Nick a document that proves that Tanaka’s plan is real. Nick must now somehow get the document out of Japan and into the hands of the proper government officials.

What follows in an odd mix of silly Hollywood romance, tense escape attempts, and an interesting game of cat-and-mouse. I enjoyed seeing Condon trying to stay one step ahead of the Japanese secret police. It’s not easy to do when they have the power to make crime scenes completely disappear or have Condon arrested on trumped-up charges with relative ease. The film is less successful when it introduces Iris Hilliard (Sylvia Disney), a character who is supposedly half-Chinese, as Condon’s love interest. Although he initially suspects her of being a spy, it’s obvious from the moment we see her that she’s not. While it seemed to me that Condon would be too intelligent to get emotionally involved with someone while his life is in danger, he’s soon trying to woo Iris by using tried-and-true flirtatious lines on her. Of course, she falls for him, and because of her strong attachment, which it apparently only takes two days to form, she informs Condon of her role in the mystery. However, it seems to me that someone is her rather delicate, vulnerable position would have chosen a more secure place to do so.

Despite its tense first half, Blood on the Sun ends somewhat poorly. Characters are shot but don’t die, imprisoned but somehow allowed to escape, outmatched physically but victorious one way or another. It’s nothing we haven’t seen time and time again. It should also be said that the film is a product of its time, and that might hurt some people’s ability to enjoy it. The film was released on April 26, 1945, three and a half months before Japan surrendered to end the Second World War. I imagine that the film would have been a bit different had it been made a few years later. In addition, most of the Japanese characters are played by Caucasian actors, a common occurrence at the time but one that can evoke strong resentment nowadays. In addition, only one of these characters can truly be considered sympathetic. Still, in spite of these criticisms and the questionable casting of Sylvia Sidney as Iris, I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy Blood on the Sun. It remains exciting throughout, and Cagney is excellent as always. However, despite the presence of historical figures, the film should not be taken as anything resembling fact. After all, if it were, wouldn’t the attack of Pearl Harbor have been prevented? (on DVD)

3 stars