Lisa Reviews An Oscar Winner: The Life of Emile Zola (dir by William Dieterle)


The Life of Emile Zola, the winner of the 1936 Oscar for Best Picture of the Year, opens with two French artists living in a drafty apartment.

Emile Zola (Paul Muni) is destined to become one of France’s most popular and important writers.  Paul Cezanne (Vladimir Sokoloff) will eventually become one of the most important artists of the post-impressionist movement.  But for now, they’re just two struggling artists who have sworn that they will never sell out their principles.  They are poor but they’re happy.  That changes for Zola after he meets a prostitute named Nana (Erin O’Brien-Moore) and he uses her life story as the inspiration for a novel.  The book is controversial and its frank content scandalizes France.  The public censor comes close to banning it.  But it also becomes a best seller.  It’s the book everyone secretly owns but claims to have never read.

Zola writes several more books, all about the conditions of the working class in France.  Eventually, he becomes what he claimed he would never be, a wealthy man living in a mansion and having little contact with the poor and oppressed.  Cezanne sees Zola one last time, calling him out for having sold his talent for money.  Cezanne explains that, on general principle, he can no longer be Zola’s friend.

Meanwhile, a quiet and rather meek family man named Captain Alfred Dreyfus (Joseph Schildkraut) has been arrested and accused of being a spy for Germany.  There’s little evidence that Dreyfus is a spy.  Indeed, most of the evidence seems to point to a Major Walsin-Esterhazy (Robert Barrat).  But, because Dreyfus is considered to be an outsider, he is convicted in a show trial and exiled to Devil’s Island.

(In real life, it’s generally agreed that Dreyfus was a victim of anti-Semitism.  As the only Jewish member of the army’s General Staff, Dreyfus was viewed with suspicion by his colleagues even before anyone knew that there was a German spy.  The Life of Emile Zola doesn’t specifically state that Dreyfus was a victim of anti-Semitism, with the exception of a brief moment when one of his accusers looks at his personnel file and says, “He’s not one of us,” while pointing at the word “Jew.”  Otherwise, the fact that Dreyfuss was Jewish is never mentioned in the film.  It’s as if the film is going out of its way to avoid offending the very people that the movie is criticizing.)

After speaking to Dreyfus’s wife (played by Gale Sondergaard, who would later become the victim of a show trial herself when she was blacklisted as a suspected communist), Zola decides to take up Dreyfus’s case.  He publishes an open letter — J’Accuse — in which he states that Dreyfus was not given a fair trial and that Dreyfus is innocent of the charges against him.  Zola finds himself in court, accused of libel.  Zola uses his trial to give Dreyfus the hearing that he never received.  While the army boos his every utterance, the people of France rally to his side.

The Life of Emile Zola is an early example of the type of prestige production that today is often referred to as being an “Oscar picture.”  It tells a true story.  As a film that condemns the treatment of Alfred Dreyfus but avoids stating the obvious reason why Dreyfus was targeted in the first place, it’s political without being radical.  And it features a performance from the most acclaimed actor of the era, Paul Muni.  Muni gives a powerful performance as Zola, holding the viewer’s attention even during the lengthy trial scenes that take up most the second half of the film.  That said, the true star of the film is Joseph Schildkraut, who plays Dreyfus as being a kind and trusting soul who finds himself caught up in a Kafkaesque nightmare.  At one point, Dreyfus is given a gun and told that there’s one way that he can avoid being put on trial for treason.  Schildkraut played the scene so well that I wanted to cheer when he refused to surrender.

The Life of Emile Zola is a big and, at times, self-consciously important production.  It was clearly designed to win a bunch of Oscars and it certainly managed to do that.  Compared to some of the other films nominated that year — The Awful Truth, Dead End, A Star is Born, Lost Horizon, Stage Door, In Old Chicago — The Life of Emile Zola can seem a bit stodgy.  However,  the performances of Muni and Schildkraut continue to make the film worth watching.

Retro Television Reviews: A Great American Tragedy (dir by J. Lee Thompson)


Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past!  On Sundays, I will be reviewing the made-for-television movies that used to be a primetime mainstay.  Today’s film is 1972’s A Great American Tragedy!  It  can be viewed on YouTube!

Brad Wilkes (George Kennedy) had a good career, working as an aerospace engineer.  He was able to buy a nice house.  With his wife, Gloria (Vera Miles), he was able to raise a good family.  He was even able to buy a sailboat, one that is the pride of the entire marina.  But then, one day, he’s told that the company is letting him go.

Returning to his home, Brad tells Gloria that he’s lost his job but that everything’s going to be okay because not only does he have a $10,000 pension but he’s sure he can find a new job.  “Of course, I might not be making $35,000 a year….” he says.

(Watching at home, I said, “Pfffft!  I make more than that!”  But, of course, Brad is talking about $35,000 in 1972 money, which would be the equivalent of a quarter of a million today.)

However, Brad soon discovers that getting a new job will not be as easy as he assumed.  It turns out that there are a lot of people out there looking for work and most of them are younger, cheaper, and better educated than Brad.  The bills start to pile up.  His former boss (Robert Mandan) informs Brad that his pension is going to be $7,000 less than he thought.  Brad forces himself to go down to the unemployment office so that he can collect $25 a week and then suffers the humiliation of being offered a loan by his well-meaning son-in-law (played by a youngish James Woods).  Gloria gets a job at the same clothing store where she used to shop and her lecherous boss (Kevin McCarthy) starts to hit on her.

For Brad, the final humiliation comes when he has to sell the boat.  A younger boat owner (Tony Dow, with a huge mustache) puts Brad in contact with a woman named Paula (Natalie Trundy).  Paula wants to buy the boat and, after they take it out on the water, Brad finds himself tempted to cheat on his wife.  It all gets to be too much for Brad and soon, he’s on a plane to Nevada where hopefully one good night at the craps table will be enough to pay his bills….

Watching this film, I found myself feeling very sorry for Brad while, at the same time, becoming very frustrated with him.  On the one hand, his company tossed him out after years of loyal service and then tried to screw him out of his pension.  On the other hand, Brad spent almost the entire movie in denial about how bad things actually were.  It’s one thing to be proud and it’s another to just be stubborn.  Knowing that he has next to no money, Brad still insists on throwing his annual 4th of July party and he even invites his former boss to come over and celebrate.  Brad simply cannot bring himself to admit that his old life is over but really, who can blame him?  He’s not the one who chose to be fired.

A Great American Tragedy was directed by J. Lee Thompson, who also did Cape Fear, The Guns of Navarone, the Planet of the Apes sequels, and several Charles Bronson films.  There are no fight scenes to be found in A Great American Tragedy but Thompson does get good performances from his cast and the film makes great use of George Kennedy’s likability.  The viewer remains sympathetic to Brad, even when he makes mistake after mistake.  A film about a formerly secure family suddenly discovering just how much the economy sucks, A Great American Tragedy remains just as a relevant today as when it was first made.

Mardi Gras Film Review: Lady Behave! (dir by Lloyd Corrigan)


The 1938 film, Lady Behave!, begins with a woman named Clarice (Patricia Farr) getting ready to go out and celebrate Mardi Gras.  Even though Clarice invites her older sister, Paula (Sally Eilers), to come with her, Paula refuses.  Paula has work to do at home.  It’s pretty obvious that this is the way that it’s always been between the two sisters.  Clarice has fun while Paula stays home and waits for her to return.

Fortunately, Clarice does return in the morning.  As she tells Paula, she had a great time during Mardi Gras.  In fact, she had such a great time that she ended up getting married!  She married a wealthy northerner named Stephen Cormack (Neil Hamilton).  The only problem is that Clarice is already married!  She’s totally forgotten that she only recently became the wife of a dissolute playboy named Michael Andrews (Joseph Schildkraut).  By getting married a second time, Clarice has committed bigamy!  She could go to prison for 10 years!

Whatever is Paula to do?

Well, what if she arranges for Clarice to leave the country?

What if she tries to bribe Michael into accepting an annulment?

What if Paula goes up to New York and pretends to be Clarice (because, after all, Stephen was pretty drunk when he married her)?

What is she does all three!?

Of course, when Paula goes up to New York, she discovers that Stephen is out of the country.  She moves into his mansion, where she discovers that his two children — Patricia (Marcia Mae Jones) and Hank (George Ernest) — are convinced that she’s just a gold digger who only wants to steal their father’s money (and, it should be noted, also their inheritance).  When Michael shows up at Stephen’s mansion, he explains to Paula that he needs $10,000 for a horse and he’ll only agree to an annulment if he gets the money.  However, when he meets Patricia and Hank, he tells them that if they pay him $30,000, he’ll help to break up the marriage between Stephen and Paula (who, of course, everyone but Michael thinks is actually Clarice).

Eventually, Stephen shows up and he assumes that Paula actually is Clarice.  Paula and Stephen quickly fall in love and it turns out that Stephen is very serious about his new marriage.  He even wants to take Paula on a honeymoon.  Of course, he thinks Paula is Clarice and Paula is freaking out because they’re not actually married but she wishes that they were.  But, if they did actually get married, Stephen would be guilty of bigamy and then he’d have to leave the country like Clarice and….

Yes, this is one of those somewhat busy screwball comedies where almost every action is motivated by a misunderstanding and where all of the dialogue is extremely snappy.  To be honest, it’s all a bit too hyper.  Though the film originally had a running time of 70 minutes, most of the existing prints are only 57 minutes long.  This film has a lot of plot for only 57 minutes and it’s often difficult to keep track of what’s happening from one scene to the next.  That wouldn’t be a problem if this film starred someone like William Powell and Carole Lombard (or, for that matter, Cary Grant and Myrna Loy) but instead, this film features Sally Eilers and Neil Hamilton, who are likable performers but not quite likable enough to carry the film over it’s rough edges.

On the plus side, Joseph Schildkraut has some very funny scenes as the flamboyant Michael.  And Marcia Mae Jones and George Ernest both do a great work as Stephen’s paranoid children.  They consistently made me laugh.  Otherwise, Lady Behave! is a bit too frantic for its own good.

30 Days of Noir #4: Lady in the Death House (dir by Steve Sekely)


The 1944 film, Lady in the Death House, tells the tragic and faintly ridiculous story of Mary Kirk Logan (Jean Parker).

The daughter of a small-time criminal, Mary has spent most of her life trying to escape from her family’s legacy of crime.  She’s even got a job, working at the same bank that her father once tried to rip off.  Of course, at work, everyone knows her as Mary Kirk and they have no idea that her father was the infamous Tom Logan.  If that information got out, Mary would lose her job and no longer be able to take care of herself or her younger sister, Suzy (Marcia Mae Jones).

One night, Mary is out on a date with a clumsy man who takes her out to a nightclub and manages to accidentally set Mary’s dress on fire.  Luckily, Dr. Brad Braford (Douglas Fowley) is there, having a drink with his friend, the famous criminologist, Charles Finch (Lionel Atwill).  Brad jumps into action, extinguishing the fire and saving Mary’s dress.  It’s love at first sight.

There’s just one problem.  Dr. Bradford is studying ways to bring the dead back to life and, in order to raise money for his research, he’s been working as the state’s executioner.  When someone goes to the electric chair, Brad is the one who pulls the lever.  Mary says that she can only marry Brad if he gives up his electrifying night job.

However, before Brad can turn in his letter of resignation, Mary is arrested for the murder of Willis Millen (Dick Curtis), a crook who once knew her father.  Mary swears that she’s innocent but there are two eye witnesses who testify that they not only heard Mary and Willis fighting but that they also saw the shadow of someone hitting Willis over the head with a lamp.  It doesn’t take long for the jury to reach a verdict:

I have to admit that, when this newspaper appeared on-screen, I was actually more curious about the “youth” who was arrested for stealing glitter off of campaign signs.  However, for whatever reason, the film declines to follow up on that story.  Instead, we watch as Mary goes to death row, with the knowledge that she is to die “at the hand of the man I love.”

However, there may still be hope!  Charles thinks that Mary is innocent.  Though there’s only 24 hours left before Brad is scheduled to execute Mary, Charles launches an investigation of his own.  But even if Charles is able to find the evidence that exonerates Mary, will he be able to contact the governor in time?  Or will Mary go to the chair?

Well, regardless of what happens, rest assured that this World War II-era film will end with an appeal for all movie goers to do the right thing and buy war bonds.

Lady in the Death House is an entertaining but fairly ludicrous little movie.  I mean, realistically, having the executioner execute his own fiancée is a huge conflict of interest.  It seems like they could have gotten a substitute executioner, if just for one night.  But, if they did that, we wouldn’t get the melodramatic highlight of Mary announcing that she’s scheduled to be killed “by the hand of the man I love.”

Lady in the Death House provides a rare chance to see Lionel Atwill in a heroic role.  The British actor played a countless number of mad scientists, killers, and Nazis before his premature death in 1946.  (Atwill’s promising career was derailed in 1943, when he accused of hosting orgies at home and was subsequently convicted of perjury.  That’s one reason why Atwill turned up in a “poverty row” feature like this one.)  Atwill is convincing as Charles Finch.  The same superior attitude that made him a good villain also makes him believable as the only person capable of figuring out who murdered Willis Millen.

Taking on its own terms, Lady in the Death House is a fun movie.  If nothing else, it provides a lesson on how to get a message to the governor, even if no one’s quite sure where he is for the evening.  That’s an important lesson to learn!

Lisa Reviews An Oscar Nominee: The Champ (dir by King Vidor)


the_champ_poster

“I want the Champ!  I want the Champ!”

Oh good God, shut up you little brat.

Now, nobody actually tells 8 year-old Dink (Jackie Cooper) to shut up at the end of 1931’s The Champ.  I’d like to think that I probably would have said those words if I had been sitting in the audience but, in all honestly, I probably would have been crying along with everyone else.  I’m sure that a lot of people probably cried when The Champ was first released.

And really, it’s probably unfair to criticize Jackie Cooper for repeatedly wailing, “I want the Champ!” during the film’s final five minutes.  It’s actually probably one of the few authentic moments in the film.  It’s just unfortunate that Cooper’s voice was a bit shrill and, as a result, I found myself covering my ears.

As for what The Champ is about, it’s the story of a boy and his alcoholic father.  Andy Purcell (played with loutish charm by the never particularly subtle Wallace Beery) is a boxer.  He used to be the world champion and people still call him The Champ.  Of course, it’s been a while since he’s been in the ring.  Now, Andy just drinks and gambles and continually lets down his son.  However, Dink is always willing to forgive Andy and Andy does truly love his son.  He even buys him a horse, which gets named Little Champ.

It’s while at the stables that Dink meets an upper class woman named Linda (Irene Rich).  What Dink does not realize is that Linda is … his mother!  She was once married to the Champ but his drinking led to divorce.  Linda wants to adopt Dink and perhaps she should because The Champ really is not a very good father.  He even loses Little Champ in a card game.

Fortunately, the Champ has a chance to win the money needed to buy back the horse.  All he has to do is reenter the ring and beat the Mexican heavyweight…

It all leads to “I want the champ!” being screamed several hundred times in a handful of minutes, enough times to make me fear that I would be deaf before the film ended…

The Champ is an old-fashioned and rather creaky melodrama, one that hasn’t aged particularly well.  Director King Vidor specialized in films about the “common man” and The Champ often feels like it was adapted from the first draft of an unproduced Clifford Odets play.  It’s all very sentimental and so thoroughly lacking in snark or cynicism that, for modern audiences, it’s difficult to relate to.  I’ll leave it to you to decide whether that’s a good or a bad thing.

The Champ does hold a place in Oscar history.  Wallace Beery won the Oscar for Best Actor but, for the first time in the history of the awards, there was a tie and Beery shared the Oscar with Fredric March, who won for Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

The Champ was also nominated for best picture but it lost to Grand Hotel, which also features Wallace Beery.