Wesley Ruggles | Through the Shattered Lens

This 1931 film, Are These Our Children?, tells the story of Eddie Brand (played by Eric Linden).

Eddie was a good kid, a teenager who never had any trouble with the law and who, at one time, seemed to have a bright future ahead of him. He came from a fine family. They may not have been rich but they were respected around the neighborhood in New York where they lived. It even looked like Eddie could have gone to city college and gotten a job with the parks department or something else like that. A good job, with a pension! Instead, Eddie Brand ended up on death row. How did it happen?

Well, according to this film, it all begins with a high school speech contest. All Eddie has to do is recite the Constitution from memory and …. well, I’m not really sure what Eddie is going to get out of it, beyond being known as the kid in the neighborhood who has memorized the entire Constitution. Unfortunately, the speech contest doesn’t go as Eddie was hoping. He forgets a few amendments and he loses his chance to be a high school big shot. Having experienced the taste of failure for the first time in his life, Eddie decides to become a drunk.

No, seriously, that’s what happens. Eddie starts out as a fine and upstanding citizen and then, one failed recitation later, he’s a loud-mouthed drunk who spends all of his time listening to jazz and hanging out with a bunch of other juvenile delinquents. Of course, since this film is from the early 1930s, these are the best-dressed juvenile delinquents around. Everyone wears a suit and a hat. In fact, they seem to be trying to imitate the gangsters that they’ve seen in the movies. Eddie, in particular, seems to think that he’s James Cagney. ARE THESE OUR CHILDREN!?

One night, Eddie and the gang drop by a local store. Though the owner may be a friend of Eddie’s family, that still doesn’t stop the drunk Eddie from impulsively shooting him. When it appears that Eddie might get away with the murder, he and his friends start to get careless. Eddie talks too much. Eventually, they’re all arrested and put on trial.

Being put on trial for murder does nothing to straighten Eddie out. He’s just as cocky as ever. He even acts as his own counsel. Interestingly enough, Eddie becomes a bit of celebrity. The reporters love talking to him and the courtroom is full of Eddie Brand groupies. And yet, everyone knows that Eddie is going to screw up eventually…..

Made during the pre-code era, Are These Our Children? is a social problem film that was supposed to leave audiences wondering what was wrong with those young kids, with their suits and their rat-a-tat dialogue. Seen today, it’s an undeniably creaky and rather slow-moving affair. Rather than being a victim of booze and bad friends, Eddie just comes across as being an idiot. Director Wesley Ruggles uses a weird spiral effect to signify the passage of time and we also get one of those classic newspaper headline montages. (“MURDER STILL UNSOLVED!” one reads.) That said, the film does get a bit more interesting once Eddie is put on trial and he becomes a bit of a tabloid celebrity. The film’s theme about how the media exploits crime and misery is just as relevant today as it was in 1931 and the scene in which the reporters instruct Eddie’s girlfriends on how to pose for their cameras is enjoyably cynical.

In the end, things don’t go well for Eddie. The lesson here? Don’t allow your children to join the Speech and Debate Club. Only misery will follow!

Seriously …. ARE THESE OUR CHILDREN!?

(With the Oscars scheduled to be awarded on March 4th, I have decided to review at least one Oscar-nominated film a day. These films could be nominees or they could be winners. They could be from this year’s Oscars or they could be a previous year’s nominee! We’ll see how things play out. Today, I take a look at the 1931 best picture winner, Cimarron!)

“Be careful, Hank! Alabaster may be a little dude but he’ll mess you up.”

“No offense … but he’s from Oklahoma.”

— King of the Hill Episode 5.13 “Ho Yeah”

Some best picture winners are better remembered than others. Some, like The Godfather, are films that will be watched and rewatched until the end of time. Others, like Crash, seems to be destined to be continually cited as proof that the Academy often picks the wrong movie. And then you have other films that were apparently a big deal when they were first released but which, in the decades to follow, have fallen into obscurity.

1931’s Cimarron would appear to be a perfect example of the third type of best picture winner.

Based on a novel by Edna Ferber (who would later write another book, Giant, that would be adapted into an Oscar-nominated film), Cimarron is an epic about Oklahoma. The film opens in 1889 with the Oklahoma land rush. Settlers from all across America rush into Oklahoma, searching for a new beginning. Among them is Yancey Cravat (Richard Dix) and his wife, Sabra (Irene Dunne). Yancey is hoping to become a rancher but, upon arriving at the settlement of Osage, he discovers that the land he wanted has already been claimed by Dixie Lee (Estelle Taylor).

So, Yancey gives up on becoming a rancher. Instead, he becomes a newspaper publisher and an occasional outlaw killer. Soon, Yancey and Sabra are two of the most prominent citizens in Osage. Under the guidance of Yancey, Osage goes from being a wild outpost to being a respectable community. It’s not always easy, of course. Criminals like The Kid (William Collier, Jr.) still prey on the weak. As the town grows more respectable, some citizens try to force out people like Dixie Lee. Struck by a combination of personal tragedy and wanderlust, Yancey occasionally leaves Osage but he always seems to return in time to make sure that people do the right thing. When even his wife reveals that she’s prejudiced against Native Americans, Yancey writes a vehement editorial demanding that they be granted full American citizenship.

The film follows Sabra and Yancey all the way to the late 1920s. Oklahoma becomes a state. Sabra becomes a congresswoman. Oil is discovered. Throughout it all, Yancey remains a firm voice in support of always doing the right thing. In fact, he’s such a firm voice that you actually start to get tired of listening to him. Yancey may be a great man but he’s not a particularly interesting one.

By today’s standards, Cimarron is a painfully slow movie. The opening land rush is handled well but once Yancey and Sabra settle down in Osage, the film becomes a bit of a chore to sit through. Richard Dix is a dull lead and the old age makeup that’s put on Dix and Dunne towards the end of the movie is notably unconvincing. Considering some of the other films that were eligible for Best Picture that year — The Front Page, The Public Enemy, Little Caesar, Frankenstein — Cimarron seems even more out-of-place as an Oscar winner.

And yet, back in 1931, it would appear the Cimarron was a really big deal. Consider this:

Cimarron was not only well-reviewed but also a considerable box office success.

Cimarron was the first film to ever receive more than 6 Academy Award nominations. (It received seven and won 3 — Picture, Screenplay, and Art Direction.)

Cimarron was the first film to be nominated in all of the Big Five categories (Picture, Actor, Actress, Director, and Screenplay).

Cimarron was the first film to be nominated in every category for which it was eligible.

Cimarron was the first RKO film to win Best Picture. The second and last RKO film to win would be The Best Years of Our Lives, a film that has held up considerably better than Cimarron.

Cimarron was the first Western to win Best Picture. In fact, it would be 59 years before another western took the top award.

Though Cimarron may now be best known to those of us who watch TCM, it’s apparent that it was a pretty big deal when it was first released. Though it seems pretty creaky by today’s standards, they loved it in 1931.