Tempe Pigott | Through the Shattered Lens

So, I’ve been cleaning out the DVR for the past week. Fortunately, I’m going to be off work for this upcoming week, which should give me a lot of extra film-watching time. That’s a good thing because I’ve got 36 movies that I’ve recorded on the DVR since Thursday and, over the past seven days, I’ve only watched 13 of them! That’s 23 movies to go and I hope to be finished by the end of the next week.

The 11th film that I found on my DVR was the 1933 film, Cavalcade. I recorded it off of FXM on April 3rd.

The main reason that I recorded Cavalcade was because it was the 6th film to win the Oscar for Best Picture. Now, I have to admit that I wasn’t expecting much from Cavalcade. It’s a film that many Oscar historians tend to list as being one of the lesser best picture winners. Cavalcade is often unfavorably compared to the films that it beat — movies like I Am A Fugitive From A Chain Gang, A Farewell To Arms, Little Women, and The Private Life of Henry VIII. Cavalcade was the first British to ever win the Best Picture and its victory is often cited as the beginning of the Academy’s love affair with British productions.

And really, Cavalcade couldn’t be more British if it tried. Based on a play by Noel Coward, Cavalcade follows two families through several decades in British history. One family is wealthy and is anchored by a patriarch who is knighted in the Boer War. The other family is lower middle class, anchored by a patriarch who starts out as a butler but who eventually manages to open up his own pub. Through the eyes of these two families, we view what, in the 1930s, was recent British history.

For modern viewers, it may be helpful to watch Cavalcade while consulting Wikipedia. For instance, the film starts with the two father figures preparing to leave to fight in the Boer War and I’m sorry to admit that I really wasn’t totally sure what that was. I had to look it up in order to discover that it was a war that the British fought in South Africa.

But you know what? That’s not really a complaint. I may not have known what the Boer War was before I started the film but that had changed by the time that I finished watching Cavalcade. Several times, I’ve mentioned on this blog how much I love history but watching Cavalcade made me realize that I still have more to learn. Even more importantly, it encouragds me to learn. That’s always a good thing.

Certain other historical events were more familiar. As soon as I saw the title card announcing that the date was 1914, I knew that I would soon be seeing a World War I montage. And, as terrible as World War I was (though, naturally, the film refers to it as being “the Great War,” and, for a few moments, I considered the fact that there was a time when nobody thought there would ever be a second world war), I was actually kind of happy for the montage because it got the characters out of the drawing room and out of the pub. Cavalcade is a very stagey film. Though there are a few attempts to open up the action, you’re always very aware that you’re essentially watching a filmed play.

Of course, the film’s best historic moment comes when a recently married couple goes on their honeymoon. We see them standing on the deck of a cruise ship, talking about how much they love each other and how wonderful life will be. They then step to the side and we see the name of the ship: RMS Titanic.

In many ways, those dismissive Oscar historians are correct about Cavalcade. It’s stagey and it’s old-fashioned and some of the performances are better than others. But, dammit, I liked Cavalcade. As the upper class couple, Diana Wynyward and Clive Brook made for a likable couple and they got to exchange some sweet-natured dialogue at the beginning and the end of the film. Add to that, it was a film about history and I love history.

Cavalcade is hardly a perfect film and it probably didn’t deserve to win best picture. But it’s still better than its reputation suggests.

“I don’t mind.”

— Mildred Rogers (Bette Davis) in Of Human Bondage (1934)

For the next three weeks, I will reviewing, in chronological order, 126 cinematic melodramas. It’s a little something that I like to call Embracing the Melodrama Part II. We started things off yesterday by taking a look at the silent classic Sunrise. Today, we continue with a quick look at the 1934 literary adaptation, Of Human Bondage.

Of Human Bondage opens with Philip Carey (Leslie Howard) living in Paris and struggling to make a living as a painter. The son of a prominent doctor, Philip is self-conscious about both his club foot and his abilities as an artist. When he invited an older artist to take a look at his work, Philip is informed, “There is no talent here. You will be nothing but mediocre.” Philip gives up his artistic ambitions and instead enters medical school.

Philip turns out to be just as miserable and moody as a medical student as he was when he was a painter. (Indeed, Philip may be one of the most miserable characters in cinematic history.) However, he does meet and becomes rather obsessed with a waitress named Mildred (Bette Davis). For her part, Mildred has little use for Philip or any of the other men who are constantly hitting on her. Whenever Philip asks her out, Mildred replies, “I don’t mind.” When Philip asks if he might kiss her goodnight, Mildred coolly replies, “No.”

Philip remains obsessed with Mildred, to the extent that he nearly flunks out of medical school because he can’t stop thinking about her. Mildred, however, eventually leaves Philip for the far more wealthy Emil Miller (Alan Hale). Eventually, Philip meets Norah (Kay Johnson), a romance novelist who falls as deeply in love with Philip as he did with Mildred. However, when the now pregnant Mildred reenters his life, Philip abandons Norah and goes back to her.

And so it goes for the next few years. Philip obsesses over Mildred. Mildred abandons Philip. Philip moves on. Mildred reenters Philip’s life. With each reappearance, Mildred appears to be growing weaker and sicker but she’s never so weak that she can’t yell at Philip and ridicule him for having a club foot…

It’s a little bit strange to admit to enjoying a film like Of Human Bondage because, when you get right down to it, it’s an unpleasant story about an unlikable man being manipulated by a heartless woman. But, interestingly enough, it’s Mildred’s unapologetic anger that make her such a compelling character. If Philip was in any way a sympathetic character, the film would be almost unbearably grim. But since Philip is such a weak-willed character and is so full of self-pity, you can’t help but be happy that Mildred is around to call him out on his bullshit. Everyone else in the film is so awful and boring, that you can’t help but appreciate the fact that Mildred never holds back.

Have you ever wondered why, every Oscar telecast, the Academy makes a point of letting us know that an independent accounting firm counted all of the ballots? Well, it’s because of this film. Or, more specifically, it’s because of Bette Davis’s ferocious performance. In 1935, when Davis somehow failed to be nominated for best actress, there was such outrage and so many people assumed that the nomination process had been rigged that the Academy actually allowed people to write in her name on their ballots. (Davis still lost to Claudette Colbert.) In order to avoid any future controversy, the Academy hired a private accounting firm to count and hold onto the ballots. (And if you’re curious about how that desire to avoid controversy is working out for the Academy, I was one words for you: Selma.) When, the next year, Bette Davis won the Oscar for best actress, it was widely assumed that it was largely to make up for being snubbed for Of Human Bondage.

If you want to see a good Leslie Howard film, go with Berkeley Square. But if you want to see a great Bette Davis film, watch Of Human Bondage.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5j6eBs-coEQ