Review - The Reckless Age

August 28, 2021
 
The Reckless Age – U.S., 1924
 

On IMDB, Heinie Conklin is credited with appearing in more than 500 films over his forty-four year Hollywood career, a distinction that earned him a spot on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Conklin was of German heritage, a fact that led him to adopt the moniker Charles Lynn early in his career. Later on, he reclaimed his family name, but continued to perform as “Charlie,” a result, it is said, of anti-German sentiments that existed in the United States at that time. I have seen a number of his films, and while I can’t recall any of his performances in them, I have a measure of respect for him. He survived the switch to sound, the rise of the studio system, and the insecurity that its fall brought to those unfortunate enough not to be a member of the Hollywood A-list. I say all this because I want it to be clear that what comes next is not personal. In truth, it’s not even professional. It is more a comment on the anonymity of the people above him and the matter-of-fact nature in which his role was likely cast.
 
See, in Harry A. Pollard’s The Reckless Age, Conklin plays an African-American taxi driver, and to say he doesn’t fit the role would be a colossal understatement. In fact, his appearance is so jarring that it takes you out of the moment. I found myself reflecting on the fact that just a few minutes earlier, we had seen a family of African-Americans at a train station, none of whom had been played by a Caucasian in blackface. There had also been an African-American worker on the train – also not played by a blackfaced actor. Any of them could have played the taxi driver. It was a reminder of the blight that blackface and yellowface left on Hollywood and how it has the potential to tarnish otherwise decent films.
 
The Reckless Age is a silent romantic comedy that no doubt influenced many films that followed, such as It Happened One Night, Charade, and Roman Holiday. It stars Reginald Denny as Richard Minot, an employee of an insurance provider whose job responsibilities are closer to Michael Clayton’s than any other character from silent films that I can think of. In the film’s opening scene, we learn that a certain Lord Allan Harrowby (William Austin) wants to insure his wedding, which is quite unusual to say the least. The deal is simple: If the marriage does not proceed, Harrowby will get $10,000; if he is the reason for its cancellation, he gets nothing; and if he does indeed walk down the aisle, he’ll have married into a wealthy family and all will be well. After all, he owes a bit of money, and as he puts it, he has to “take his creditors’ interest to heart.” Minor is the insurer’s insurance policy.
 
And with that, the film has put itself in a proverbial corner. See, Harrowby has to be a rather upstanding fellow; otherwise, he’d play around, the case would be closed, and the film would be over in fifteen minutes. Thus, when doubt is cast upon his identity, there’s a serious lack of suspense. Another misstep occurs early on in the film when a character’s identity is revealed in an intertitle. We then watch Minor and that character exchange glances, elicit smiles in the other person, and flirt in that cute way that two people do when they are absolutely thrilled to be in the other’s presence. Later, they finally get around to introducing themselves, and low and behold, it’s the person we already knew it was, and I couldn’t help wondering why Minor hadn’t known that beforehand. It certainly would have made his character more interesting. As such, he just comes across as unprepared for his big case.
 
A film like The Reckless Age can only end one way, and Denny is not the only star of the silent period to make films that had pre-ordained finales. All of the three greats comedians of the silent period – Chaplin, Keaton, and Lloyd – left their characters in predictable, crowd-pleasing positions – either married or satisfied that he had performed a good deed. Their gift was to make their characters’ final states feel both earned and eagerly anticipated. To his credit, Denny and his collaborators got this, so while their film has far too many characters and a couple plot points that stretch on longer than they should, whenever Minot and Harrowby’s fiancée, Cecilia Meyrick (Ruth Dwyer), grace us with their collective presence, it’s pure movie magic.
 
Part of this is due to how well they make us believe that their characters’ instant connection – surely Hollywood’s greatest contribution to romantic fantasy – is the kind that, were it to be unacted on, would create lifelong heartache and regret. And then there’s Meyrick’s 20^th century persona. This is a truly independent young woman, and were it not for the conventions of 1920s upper class society, she would probably be living a life of travel, discovery, and romance on her terms. In fact, several scenes in which she increases Minot’s determination by making him feel as if he’s failed brought a rather self-aware smile to my face. I truly hope the two of them made more films together.
 
Alas, despite its title, only a few scenes in The Reckless Age really give Denny a chance to display his comic chops. Fortunately, those rare moments are a delight. Minot’s taxi rides provide Denny ample opportunity to display his skills at physical comedy and a late tussle in which he is outnumbered is delightfully silly. Also impressive are a few scenes with Dwyer in which Denny is able to let him tough-guy demeanor down and play the love-struck young man who suddenly thinks he has a chance with the woman of his dreams and can’t contain his excitement. I now understand why Kevin Brownlow considered Denny to be one of the top five comedians of the silent era.
 
Is there too much going on in the film? Sure. I certainly could have done without the missing necklace, the imposter, and the best friend, yet I absolutely adored the way Harrowby’s answer to every predicament is to look at Minot and ask him what he is going to do about it. There’s also a clever bit in which we meet another member of British royalty, and darn it, he looks so much like Harrowby that you’d swear eugenics was at work in the palace. And then there’s Denny and  Dwyer, a comic pairing on par with Chaplin and Edna Purviance, Lloyd and Mildred Davis, and William Powell and Lyrna Loy. Really, they’re that good together. They make a likeable film a must-see, and that’s saying something. (on DVD and Blu-ray as part of Kino’s The Reginald Denny Collection)
 
*The Reckless Age is a remake of a lost 1919 film entitled Love Insurance.

Review - Parlor, Bedroom, and Bath

September 13, 2018

Parlor, Bedroom, and Bath – 1931, US

To illustrate one of my difficulties with Edward Sedgwick’s Parlor, Bedroom, and Bath, I will ask you consider an alternative version of Steven Soderbergh’s Ocean’s 11. In this version, the film is essentially the same right up until the scene in which Danny Ocean lays out his plan in front of his ten cohorts. Then for some inexplicable reason, the film jump ahead in time. The gang of thieves - sans Danny, of course - is now in front of Caesar’s Palace watching the fountains dance, Tess has rediscovered her feelings for her ex-husband, and it seems everything will end happily ever after. Now, regardless of whatever came next in the film, wouldn’t you feel a tad bit cheated? If your answer is yes, you know precisely how I felt watching Parlor, Bedroom, and Bath.

The film has a somewhat promising premise: A wealthy man named Jeff (Reginald Denny) must find a husband for his fiancée’s older sister, Angie (Dorothy Christy), or else Angie is doomed to remain single forever, an option, it must be said, that she doesn’t seem to have much of an objection to. Jeff resolves to solve the problem by the end of the week, and as luck would have it (luck for Jeff, that is), he just happens to hit a pedestrian who a moment earlier had fallen head over heels in love with Angie at first glance. Talk about a coincidence.

The pedestrian is Reginald Irving, sign tagger (Buster Keaton). Jeff arranges for him to be taken care of at Angie’s home. He also concocts an elaborate plan to give Reginald the reputations of being both a ladies man and a man of means. Reginald is neither, of course, In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d never been kissed in his life. No matter, Jeff arranges for Reginald to be visited by a string of women, each one acting more grief-stricken than the last and each promising to wait for him. Keaton’s reactions were priceless during this scene.

And strangely enough it works. Soon, Angie develops a soft spot for him, reasoning that anyone who is being pursued by that many suitors must be something really special. Thus begins a series of hilarious madcap events, all designed to get Angie not only to like Reginald but also to want to marry him in no time flat. Just kidding. Such scenes actually do not exist. No, instead the film flashes forward, and the next thing we know Reginald’s engaged to Angie (just who popped the question is unclear) and coping with a guilty conscience. To which I have only this to say: What a wasted opportunity.

Hard to believe, but the film gets even more problematic from there, for in its last thirty minutes, it begins to resemble one of Pedro Almadovar’s lesser-quality sex comedies. In these scenes, we get someone’s version of humor – not mine clearly and if I can read Keaton’s body language correctly, not his either. In the finale, Keaton thinks one thing, and a young woman believes another. Now, normally there’s nothing necessarily wrong with most cinematic situations that fit that description, yet in this case, the man thinks a seduction is fake, while a woman (actually more than one) thinks she is in danger of being sexually assaulted. I suppose we are meant to laugh when Reginald tries to wrap his arm around the woman as she screams and begs him to leave her be, but I couldn’t. The sequence made me sick to my stomach, and this is despite the frequent slapstick sequences scattered throughout the scene. I was reminded of a scene in The Naked Gun in which a woman thinks Frank Drebin is going to assault her with an intimate piece of a statue that broke off. What separates the two scenes however is this: Drebin suddenly become aware of how it looks and seeks to smooth things over, while Reginald just moves on to his next unintended target. I just didn’t find it funny.

There are a few daring pre-Code moments in the film that will make jaws drop. One of these involves Angie ending an engagement because of “specifications in a bathing suit,” which brought to mind an episode of Seinfeld. There are also a few flashes of shoulders sprinkled throughout the film, and these must have been considered scandalous back in the day. I also enjoyed some of the film’s witty dialogue. For example, in one scene, Reginald asks the driver of a hay truck who’s given him and a young lady a lift how much he owes him. The driver replies, “Do you think $2 would be too much?” Reginald answers yes.

However, these moments are few and far between. The film is neither amusing enough to sustain interest, nor risqué enough to be bold. Worst of all, it gives Buster Keaton little to do until the very last scene, when he is finally able to break loose and showcase his array of comedic talents. To me, it was too little, too late. I would much rather have seen an extra half an hour of Reginald’s attempts to woo Angie. In addition to this being rather whimsical, it would also have explained why the two of them like each other in the first place and perhaps removed the stigma that Angie gets of being a stuck-up money-obsessed snob for whom no man will ever be good enough. We never get to see another side of her, and that is to the detriment of the film. After all, it’s hard to root for someone when someone else seems like such a better choice. (on DVD as part of Warner Archive’s Buster Keaton at MGM)

2 stars

Review - Madam Satan

November 10, 2016

Madam Satan – US, 1930

The most important line in Cecil B. DeMille’s Madam Satan is uttered early on in the film by Mrs. Angela Brooks (Kay Johnson), the young wife of a wealthy playboy named Robert Brooks (Reginald Denny). It goes like this: “Is it worthwhile for a wife to break her back to please her husband?” The fact that she even asks this is proof that she is a kindhearted character, one whose own happiness would be willingly sacrificed in the name of love, and so she goes about tying to make her husband’s world as joyful as possible. She makes sure the servants have everything clean before he comes home, ensures that dinner is waiting for me when he walks in the door, and makes certain to look her best for him, even at very late hours. If only the cad did something to deserve this treatment.

That he doesn’t - not even at the conclusion of the film - is a problem, for it puts the onus on her to save the marriage. There’s even a moment in which Mr. Brooks tells her that she is to blame for the poor state of their marriage. As he explains it, she became cold and practical, a little too preoccupied with being married to actually spend quality time with her husband. In his words, she went from being a pal to being a wife, the insinuation being that when a woman gets married, she loses her sense of fun.

Early on in the film it is revealed that Robert has taken up with a spirited young woman named Trixie (Lillian Roth). We know she’s the villain because instead of enjoying classical music, she swings her hips to the sounds of jazz, smokes, and openly shows her legs. Decent women, this and films such as 1921’s The Affairs of Anatol imply, listen to classical music and attend formal parties. However, the film also subtly implies that keeping her man may require her to embrace, as one character puts it, flesh and blood. And so Angela sets out to meet and confront Trixie in an effort to win her man back, regardless of how unworthy he is.

Like many films from this time in film history, Madam Satan is an amalgamation of several film genres, and the combination is not an entirely successful one. The film includes moments intended as comedy, most of which involve Robert’s good friend Jimmy Wade (Roland Young). Then there are the film’s more dramatic elements, ones intended to reflect upon Angela’s status as a wronged woman, and the film continues the trend of adding musical numbers to stories that truly don’t need them. Far too often dramatic moments grind to a screeching halt just so characters can emote in songs that, which the exception of Trixie’s number, Low Down, have truly not aged well. There is also a storyline that resembles those found in many Shakespearean comedies. However, Shakespeare’s women were smart, and when they went out in disguise, it was often as wise and educated men who had some say in the fate of the people around them. That is not the case here. Here, she just cheapens herself.

And it’s not just her. The film includes a masque ball where men bid on women as if they were material objects, and at that same ball, skimpily dressed dancers bump and grind in a way that makes the whole scene resembles an orgy. It made me recall the ball in Stanley Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut. However, in that film, the ball was a metaphor for the morally-questionable situations that jealousy and anger can lead people to enter into. In Madam Satan, they’re purely sensational, and the creepy world it represents is portrayed as just another test of Angela’s love for her husband. In other words, she is not saving him from it; she is joining it, becoming a participant in its depravity for a guy who never stops being the schmuck he is revealed to be in the film’s opening moments.

Director Cecil B. DeMille is a legend, yet even he is not able to connect the film’s fragmented narratives into one cohesive thread. He is also unable to get his actors on track, and for most of the first half they are slightly off in their delivery of their lines. The pauses are too long, the emotions too flat, and the comedy too forced. Later DeMille seems to have instructed Denny to stand as if he were channeling a superhero from one of those early serials - his chest sticks out, his hands rest on his hips, even his voice becomes more animated. It’s more ludicrous than commanding.

Throughout all this, Young is the only one who really stands out. As Jimmy, he displays talents in comedy skills that in another film would have had audiences in stitches, and as the film unfolds, his is the only character to undergo real change. A smarter and more daring film would have taken this character and run with it. Here, he is simply underused. (Young acted steadily up until his death in 1953.)

Suffice to say, I was disappointed with the film. I wanted less comedy, fewer songs (or at least better ones), and more honest storytelling. Instead we get a patronizing approach to saving a marriage that essentially makes it the responsibility of the wife. She should be both sweet and wild, forgiving and driven. She should be willing to go to ends of the earth to save her marriage and to become whatever her husband wants her to become, and if she doesn’t, if she dares to have standards or self-respect, she has no one to blame but herself if her husband ends up in the arms of another women. Look. I get that this is an old movie and that it doesn’t reflect today’s sentiments. But I have to ask: Just when were such sentiments ever acceptable? (on DVD as part of Warner Brothers’ Archive Collection)

2 stars