Lisa Marie Reviews An Oscar Nominee: Alice Adams (dir by George Stevens)

Posted on January 14, 2025 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Katharine Hepburn was famous for both her relationship with Spencer Tracy and the films that she made with him. They were such frequent co-stars and so associated with each other that “Hepburn-Tracy” became a film genre in and of itself, one that promised a bit of comedy, a bit of drama, and some sharp-witted romance. That said, I have to admit that one of my favorite of Katharine Hepburn’s film is one that she made not with Spencer Tracy but instead with Fred MacMurray. Alice Adams is a Tracy-Hepburn film without Tracy.

First released in 1935 and based on a novel by Booth Tarkington (who was quite a big deal back in the day even if, like Arrowsmith‘s Sinclair Lewis, he’s somewhat forgotten today), Alice Adams stars Hepburn as the title character. Alice is the daughter of Virgil Adams (Fred Stone) and his wife, who is only referred to as being Mrs. Adams (Anne Shoemaker). Virgil is a sickly man who has worked as a clerk at a glue factory for several years. Despite living in a rather large house and having a maid named Malena (Hatti McDaniel), the Adams family is not wealthy. However, Mrs. Adams desperately wants the family to be rich and Alice carries herself with the airs of a wealthy woman, despite the fact that everyone in town knows that she’s not. Alice love her family and is loyal to them, even if her younger brother (Frank Albertson, who later played Sam “Hee Haw” Wainwright in It’s A Wonderful Life) appears to be addicted to gambling and her mother is constantly browbeating her father for not being more ambitious. Her family may embarrass her but we know she wouldn’t trade them for all the money in the world. That’s why we like Alice, even if she does sometimes act like a snob.

However, when Alice meets and falls for the wealthy Arthur Russell (Fred MacMurray), she lies about her social background and tries to present herself as being just as rich as him. When she invites Arthur and his parents to her house for a dinner party, she frantically tries to keep up the charade of being wealthy. Meanwhile, Virgil finds himself wrongly accused of stealing from his boss (Charley Grapewin) and, as a result, the family’s financial future is put in jeopardy.

Alice Adams is a mix of screwball comedy and social drama. On the one hand, Alice’s desperate attempts to throw the perfect party are frequently very funny. Katharine Hepburn was always at her best when she played a flighty character and the contrast between Alice’s sophisticated airs and Alice’s actual personality makes me laugh every time that I watch the film. At the same time, there’s a definite undercurrent of melancholy to the film. Alice and her mother are both so desperate to be rich that they’ve both been blinded to just how wonderful their lives really are. Alice may like Arthur and Arthur definitely likes Alice but one never forgets that a part of Alice’s attraction to Arthur is that Arthur can give her the life to which she aspires.

Alice Adams features one of Hepburn’s best performances and it’s a rare Hepburn performance to which anyone watching should be able to relate. At some point in our lives, we’ve all felt like Alice. We’ve all been Alice, even if we don’t want to admit it. Fred MacMurray’s natural likability serves him well as Arthur. He comes across like a genuinely nice guy and we definitely want him and Alice to end up together.

Alice Adams was nominated for Best Picture but it lost to a much bigger production, Mutiny on the Bounty. Bette Davis beat Katharine Hepburn for Best Actress. Davis later said that she felt Hepburn should have won.

Film Review: Children of Divorce (dir by Frank Lloyd and Josef von Sternberg)

Posted on July 29, 2023 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The 1927 silent melodrama, Children of Divorce, opens at a private Catholic boarding school in Paris. It’s a place for rich and idle parents to dump off their children while they enjoy the City of Lights. Jean Waddington is dropped off at the school and struggles to make friends until she meets the vivacious Kitty Flanders. Jean and Kitty bond because they are both children of divorced parents. (Kitty says that she has only one mother but that’s she’s had four different fathers.) Jean meets Ted Larrabee, who is Kitty’s neighbor back in New York and who has also been dumped off at the school by his divorced parents.

Flash forward a few years and Kitty (Clara Bow), Jean (Esther Ralston), and Ted (Gary Cooper) are all young adults. Kitty is in love with Prince Vico (Einar Hansen) but the Prince’s father refuses to allow Vico to consider marrying her because Kitty’s mother (played by future gossip columnist and Queen of Hollywood, Hedda Hopper) is not rich. Believing that the only way that she’ll ever be happy is if she marries a rich man, Kitty set her eyes on Ted. Ted, however, wants to marry Jean but Jean says that she’ll only consider marrying Ted if he gets a real job and proves that he can do something more than just live off of his father’s money.

Ted starts his own architectural firm and proves that he’s capable of hard work. However, when Kitty convinces Ted to celebrate his success by going out drinking with her….

Ted wakes up with a hangover. He soon discovers that he’s also woken up with a wife! While he was drunk, he married Kitty! Ted is stunned. Jean is heart-broken. She begs Kitty to grant Ted a divorce so that she can marry him but Kitty reveals that she has no intention of ever getting divorced. As she explains it, Kitty has been raised to marry a rich man, Ted is rich, and now, she’s married to him. Why would Kitty want to give that up? When Ted says that he’ll file for the divorce, Jean tells him that she can’t marry a man who would leave his wife and then she leaves for Europe….

Of course, that’s not the end of the story. This wouldn’t be a silent melodrama if it ended that simply. Instead, years later, Kitty does come to see the error of her actions and she also discovers that her true love remains Prince Vico. But, by that point, it’s too late and, of course, Jean still refuses to marry a divorced man. Kitty seeks redemption in the most extreme was possible….

Clocking in at a brisk 70 minutes, Children of Divorce is a wonderful showcase for Clara Bow, who was born 118 years ago on this date. Gary Cooper is properly handsome and sincere as Ted and Esther Ralston is lovely if a bit boring as Jean but the film ultimately belongs to Clara Bow, who brings so much vitality and energy to her role that it doesn’t matter that Kitty tricks Ted into marrying her and destroys all of Jean’s romantic dreams. Most viewers will instantly sympathize with Kitty and, to be honest, it’s kind of hard not to be on her side. Kitty has fun. Kitty refuses to let society stand in her way. While Jean makes a list of demands about what she needs Ted to do before she can even consider marrying him, Kitty encourages Ted to loosen up and enjoy his success. Kitty is the one who I think most viewers, at the very least, would want to be friends with. While Jean tries to run away from her problems, Kitty is determined to live her best life. Indeed, Kitty’s ultimate redemption is all the more effective because, once again, Kitty is the one who is making things happen while Ted and Jean just passively accept the conventions of society.

Clara Bow was one of the greatest of the silent film stars and Children of Divorce shows why. As opposed to many of the other actresses of the day, Clara Bow was convincingly cast as women who were willing to do whatever needed to be done to find happiness. Sadly, Clara Bow’s later years were not happy ones. She deserved better than the world gave her. Watching her in films like this one and It feel like looking out a window into the past, a time when it seemed like anything was possible.

Horror Film Review: Dracula’s Daughter (dir by Lambert Hillyer)

Posted on October 9, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Did you know that Dracula had a daughter!?

Well, Bram Stoker might disagree but, according to Universal Studios, he did. Her name was Countess Marya Zaleska and, as played by Gloria Holden, she is the title character in 1936’s Dracula’s Daughter! Like her father, the Countess was also a vampire. The film never gets into just how she became a vampire. Was she born a vampire or, far more disturbingly, was she once a mortal who turned into a vampire by her own father? The film doesn’t tell us but it does establish early on that she hates being one of the undead. Unlike her father, she struggles with her urge to drink blood. When she discovers that Dracula has been staked, she and her servant, Sandor (Irving Pichel), steal the body from the morgue and burn it. The Countess thinks that this will cure her of her urges.

Sadly, it does no such thing.

So, what’s a reluctant, 20th century vampire to do? Well, she can always go to a psychiatrist and hope that science can somehow break the curse. She ends up as a patient of Dr. Jeffrey Garth (Otto Kruger). By coincidence, Dr. Garth has another famous patient — Dr. Edward Von Helsing. (That’s right, they changed the “van” to a “von” in Dracula’s Daughter. Despite the name change, Edward van Sloan returns to play the veteran vampire hunter.)

Von Helsing in on trial, accused of murdering Dracula in the previous film. Oddly enough, nobody mentions Renfield who, seeing as how we’re told Dracula’s Daughter starts exactly where Dracula left off, would have been found dead in the crypt as well. Even stranger, no one steps forward to defend Von Helsing. Dr. Seward, Mina, Johnathan Harker? Forget about them. Not a single one is to be found while Von Helsing is accused of murder.

Bastards.

Fortunately, Von Helsing has a defense! Since Dracula was already dead and had been for 500 years, Von Helsing could not have killed him. Helping him out with this defense is Dr. Garth…

Meanwhile, the Countess tries to resist the urge to attack every woman that she sees. She pours her frustrations out into painting. One night, Sandor brings the Countess a new model, a beautiful young woman named Lil (Nan Grey). The Countess orders Lil to undress and then, after staring at her, gives into her urges and attacks…

If you’re thinking that there’s a subtext here, that’s because there is. (In fact, Universal’s tagline for the film was, “Save the women of London from Dracula’s Daughter!”) Perhaps even more so than in Dracula, Dracula’s Daughter uses vampirism as a metaphor for forbidden sex. When the Countess stares at Lil and, later, when she prepares to bite the neck of Dr. Garth’s fiancée, she is embodying the hysterical fears of a puritanical society. When she unsuccessfully seeks a cure for her vampirism, we’re reminded that, in the 1930s, psychiatry classified homosexuality as being a mental illness. When the Countess struggles with her urge to drink blood, she is a stand-in for everyone who has struggled with their sexuality.

Gloria Holden plays the Countess as being as much a victim as a victimizer. Whereas Bela Lugosi turned Dracula into the epitome of evil, Gloria Holden gives a performance that is full of ambiguity. In fact, she at times seems to be so tortured by her vampiric state that, when she finally fully embraces the fact that she’s a vampire, you have to cheer a little. At least she’s finally being honest with herself! At least she’s no longer making apologies or allowing society to punish her for being who she is. Was Countess Zaleska the first reluctant vampire in film history? I’m not sure but Holden’s performance undoubtedly set the bar by which all other self-loathing vampires should be judged.

Dracula’s Daughter holds up surprisingly well. It’s definitely one to look for during this Halloween season.

Embracing the Melodrama Part II #19: Sunset Boulevard (dir by Billy Wilder)

Posted on April 14, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

“All right, Mr. De Mille, I’m ready for my close-up!”

— Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson) in Sunset Boulevard (1950)

First released in 1950 and nominated for Best Picture, Billy Wilder’s Sunset Boulevard is one of the greatest and most influential films of all time. It’s also something of a difficult film to review because, in order for one to truly understand its greatness, it needs to be seen. A description simply will not do. You have to experience, first hand, the performances of Gloria Swanson, William Holden, and Eric Von Stroheim. You have to see, with your own eyes, the way that Billy Wilder perfectly balances drama, satire, and horror. I can tell you about how cinematographer John F. Seitz perfectly contrasts the empty glossiness of Hollywood with the dark shadows that fill the ruined mansion of Norma Desmond but, again, it’s something that you owe it to yourself to see. You need to hear the perfectly quotable dialogue with your own ears. You need to experience Sunset Boulevard for yourself.

And, while you’re watching it, think about how easily one bad decision could have screwed up the entire film. Sunset Boulevard is famous for being narrated by a dead man, a screenwriter named Joe (William Holden). When we first see Joe, he’s floating in a pool. Originally, however, the film was to open with the dead Joe sitting up in the morgue and telling us his story. Reportedly, preview audiences laughed at the scene and it was cut out of the film. And Wilder made the right decision to remove that scene. Sunset Boulevard may be famous for being a strange film but, when you actually watch it, you realize just how controlled and disciplined Wilder’s direction actually is. Sunset Boulevard may be weird but it’s never less than plausible.

Joe Gillis is a former newspaper reporter-turned-screenwriter. He may have started out as an idealist but, as the film begins, he’s now just another Hollywood opportunist. While trying to hide from a man looking to repossess his car, Joe stumbles upon a dilapidated old mansion. The owner of the mansion is none other than Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson), a silent film star who has sent been forgotten but who still dreams of making a comeback. (When Joe tells her that she used to be big, Norma famously responds that she’s still big and it’s the pictures that have gotten small.) Norma has written a script and the opportunistic Joe convinces her to hire him as a script doctor.

Joe moves into the mansion and discovers a world that has never moved past the 1920s. Norma’s butler and former director, Max (played by Gloria Swanson’s former director Erich Von Stroheim) writes letters that he claims were sent by Norma’s fans. Norma spends her time watching her old movies. Occasionally, other forgotten silent screen stars (including Buster Keaton) drop by to play cards.

Encouraged by Joe’s vapid flattery and a mysterious phone call from a Paramount exec, Norma has Max drive her down to the studio. Greeted by the older employees and ignored by the younger, Norma visits with director Cecil B. DeMille (who plays himself). In a rather sweet scene, she and DeMille remember their shared past. DeMille obviously understands that she’s unstable but he treats her with real respect, in contrast to the manipulative Joe.

As for Joe, he’s fallen for a script reader named Betty (Nancy Olson) and wants to escape from being dependent on Norma. However, Norma has invested too much in her “comeback” to just allow Joe to leave…

Sunset Boulevard is a wonderful mix of film noir and Hollywood satire. And, though the film may be narrated by Joe and told from his point of view, it’s firmly on Norma’s side. As easy as it is to be dismissive of Norma’s delusions, she’s right in the end. It is the pictures that have gotten small and, as she proves towards the end of the film, she is still as capable of making a grand entrance as she ever was.

Joe may have been too stupid to realize it but Norma Desmond never stopped being a star.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y3P0Zpe-2og

Embracing the Melodrama, Part II: Wings (dir by William Wellman)

Posted on April 6, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

As I mentioned in my previous review, Sunrise may have won the 1927 Oscar for Unique and Artistic Production but the official winner of the first Academy Award for Best Picture was the silent World War I romantic melodrama, Wings. Wings is one of those films that doesn’t seem to get much respect from contemporary critics, many of whom are quick to dismiss the film as being corny and clichéd. It’s not unusual to see Wings cited as being the first example of the Academy honoring the wrong film.

Wings tells the story of David Armstrong (Richard Arlen) and Jack Powell (Charles “Buddy” Rogers), who both live in the same small town and who are both in love with the pretty but self-centered Sylvia (Jobyna Ralston). Sylvia, meanwhile, is in love with the wealthy David but, when Jack asks for a picture of her, she gives him one that she had been planning to eventually give to David. Meanwhile, Mary (Clara Bow), who is literally the girl next door, pines for Jack.

When World War I breaks out, both Jack and David join the Air Force. At first they’re rivals but, under the pressure of combat and the threat of constant death, they become friends. When David flies, he has a tiny teddy bear to bring him luck. Jack, meanwhile, has Sylvia’s picture. Meanwhile, their tentmate — Cadet White (Gary Cooper) — insists that he doesn’t need any good luck charms and promptly suffers the consequences for upsetting God.

Meanwhile, Mary has joined the war effort and is driving an ambulance around Europe. Will Mary ever be able to convince Jack that they belong together? Will David ever catch the legendary German pilot, Kessler? Perhaps most importantly, will this new bromance be able to survive both war and the charms of Clara Bow? And finally, will anyone be surprised when all of this leads to a tragic conclusion with an ironic twist?

Wings has got such a bad reputation and is so frequently dismissed as being the first case of the Academy picking spectacle over quality that I was actually shocked when I watched it and discovered that Wings is actually a pretty good movie. Yes, it is totally predictable. Every possible war film cliche can be found in Wings. (From the minute that handsome and confident Gary Cooper announced that he didn’t need any lucky charms, I knew he was doomed.) And yes, the film does run long and it does feature a totally out-of-place subplot involving a character played by someone named El Brendel (who was apparently a popular comedian at the time). This is all true but, still, Wings works when taken on its own terms.

Here’s the thing with Wings: the aerial footage is still impressive (all the more so for being filmed without the benefit of CGI) and both Charles “Buddy” Rogers and Richard Arlen are handsome and appealing in a 1927 silent film sort of way. In fact, the entire film is appealing in a 1927 silent film sort of way. This is a time capsule, one that shows what films were like in the 20s and, as a result of the combat scenes, also provides a hint of what lay in the future for the film industry. Most importantly, Wings features Clara Bow, who has been my silent film girl crush ever since I first saw It. Whether she’s attempting to flirt with the clueless Rogers or hiding underneath her ambulance and shouting curses at the Germans flying above her, Clara brings a lot of life to every scene in which she appears.

If you’re a film historian, Wings is one of those films that you simply have to see and, fortunately for you, it’s actually better than you may have been led to think.

It’s currently available on Netflix.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EqOqXj2biG0