Saturday, January 16, 2010

1920-1924 Filmography


The Stealers (1920)




Directed by Christy Cabanne.
Screenplay by Christy Cabanne.
Cinematography by Georges Benoît.
Visual Effects by Stewart B. Moss.

Produced & Distributed by Robertson-Cole.
Released September, 1920.


Cast:
William H. Tooker ... Rev. Robert Martin
Robert Kenyon ... Martin
Myrtle Morse ... Mrs. Martin
Norma Shearer ... Julie Martin
Ruth Dwyer ... Mary Forrest
Eugene Borden ... Sam Gregory
Jack Crosby ... Raymond Pritchard
Matthew Betz ... Bert Robinson
John B. O'Brien ... Man of Dawn
Downing Clarke ... Major Wellington
Walter Miller ... Stephen Gregory

Notes:
-Norma's first credited film appearance.
-Filmed in two weeks during the summer of 1920.
-A lost film.

Vintage Reviews:

Edwin Schallert in Los Angeles Times, March 17, 1921: "In its way, The Stealers has somewhat the same strong inspirational sentiment as The Miracle Man. There are many resemblances in the underlying thought, but the surface plot is sufficiently different to give newness, and to hold keen interest.

"The cast is an unfamiliar one, but we will look with interest for further appearances of Willaim Tooker, the portrayer of the gang leader and his artful dodger who adds greatly to the humor. The daughter is ably interpreted by Norma Shearer."

Motion Picture News, October 2, 1920: "It must be confessed that Mr. Cabanne's story resorts often to the convenient, to far fetched coincidence. He has chosen to shoot at a high mark a theme of Miracle Man caliber- and he has scored strongly from a production standpoint, missing only in the strength and originally of the dramatic incident counted upon to carry over that great message of faith and the wonders it works. Valued as a picture intended for the entertainment of audiences, without attempting comparison, the directing, the acting, which is excellent throughout, and the atmosphere of the offering should get it all over."



The Man Who Paid (1922)




Directed by Oscar Apfel.
Story and Screenplay by Marion Brooks.
Photographed by Alfred Gonolfi.

Produced by Apfel Productions.
Distributed by Producer's Security.
Released March, 1922.


Wilfred Lytell ... Oliver Thornton
Norma Shearer ... Jeanne Thornton
Florence Rogan ... Little Jeanne
Fred C. Jones ... Louis Duclos
Bernard Siegel ... Anton Barbier
David Hennessy ... McNeill
Charles Byer ... Guy Thornton
Erminie Gagnon ... Lizette
Frank Montgomery ... Songo

Notes:
A lost film.

Vintage Reviews:

Exhibitor's Herald, April 8, 1922: "Wilfred Lytell, as Oliver Thorton, proves an acceptable hero, while Norma Shearer does good work as his wife. Miss Shearer's good looks are shown to advantage, and she not only photographs extremely well, but shows no small amount of talent in the portrayal of her part."

Mary Kelly in Moving Picture World, March 25, 1922: "Wilfred Lytell and Norma Shearer are largely responsible for the realism of their scenes. The star has plenty of energy and nerve, and besides a certain clean cut attractiveness that should give him wide appeal. Miss Shearer is pretty, and in her emotional scenes, very vivid. The whole production, including the style of direction, and science backgrounds, show a sincerity that will be generally appreciated."

J.S. Dickerson in Motion Picture News, April 1, 1922: "Wilfred Lytell is presented as the hero but much better acting opportunities are given Norma Shearer as the factor's wife, all of which she embraces with a poise and skill that stamps this new comer as an actress of promise. The girl has beauty and screen personality and she can act. Even in the wild melodrama that many parts of the picture exhibit, she is able to make her work hold her attention and her role seem real."

Channing of the Northwest (1922)





Directed by Ralph Ince.
Presented by Lewis J. Selznick.
Screenplay by Edward J. Montagne.
From a story by John Willard.
Cinematography by John W. Brown.

Produced and Rleased by Selznick Pictures.
Released May, 1922.


Cast:
Eugene O'Brien ... Channing
Gladden James ... Jim Franey
Norma Shearer ... Jess Driscoll
James Seeley ... Tom Driscoll
Pat Hartigan ... Sport McCool
Nita Naldi ... Cicily Varden
Harry Lee ... McCool's man
Jack W. Johnston ... Buddy
C. Coulter ... Channing's Uncle

Notes:
-Norma had a fling with Euguene O'Brien during production.
-The film which caught the eye of a young Irving Thalberg, then at Universal. He made the offer of a contract, which she turned down.
-A lost Film.

Vintage Reviews:

Mary Kelly in Moving Picture World, June 17, 1922: "The picture works up to a climax that is done with remarkable smoothness and an undercurrent of suspense, the more effective because of its subtlety. There is the scene of the bootlegger hiding in the girl's cabin. Norma Shearer's acting in this rather strenuous situation is exceptionally clever. Her personal charm is a factor that will be recognized, too."

Lawrence Reid in the Motion Picture News, May 6, 1922: "Norma Shearer lends a fragrant charm and emotional capabilities of a high order to the role of the heroine. It is a simple and obvious story on an old theme. And because it is well done it should excite interest for those who never tire of the mounted."

Monday, January 4, 2010

A Free Soul (1931)

 




Cast:
Norma Shearer ... Jan Ashe

Leslie Howard ... Dwight Winthrop
Lionel Barrymore ... Stephen Ashe
James Gleason ... Eddie
Clark Gable ... Ace Wilfong
Lucy Beaumont ... Grandma Ashe

Directed by Clarence Brown.
Produced by Irving Thalberg.
Based on the novel by Adela Rogers St. Johns.

Original Music by William Axt.
Cinematography by William H. Daniels.
Film Editing by Hugh Wynn.
Art Direction by Cedric Gibbons.
Costume Design by Adrian.
Sound Recording by Douglas Shearer.

Released June 20, 1931.
A Metro Goldwyn Mayer Picture.

Box Office Information:

Cost of Production: $529,000
Domestic Gross: $889,000
Forgein Gross: $833,000
Total Gross: $1,722,000
Profit: $244,000

Background:

When Strangers May Kiss (1931), Norma’s first movie since giving birth to her first child, proved that Norma Shearer could still be a slinky sex symbol, she decided to capitalize on it in her most daring film to date, A Free Soul, which would become known as one of her most notorious films.

And one of the most notorious films of the decade.

On top of all the sex Norma provided movie audiences, A Free Soul also showcased Lionel Barrymore in his Oscar-wining performance as the alcoholic attorney, and Clark Gable as the brutish gangster who shoves Norma around, telling her to “take it and like it.” This made a full-fledged star of Gable, his ground-breaking film, and upped the value for Shearer and Barrymore as well.

But what makes A Free Soul more popular is the fact that it was based on a real-life saga, one which involved the lives of two of the most famous people in New York.

Writer Adela Rogers St. Johns seemed to have everything from a view on the other side. She was the daughter of Earl Rogers, one the most successful New York attorneys to ever practice law, and enjoyed a life among the high society. But she was living in the 1920s---a time for moral rebellion. Aside from a fine reputation as a writer, she developed a reputation for being a party girl---though it never seemed to interfere with her career.

By 1927, she felt that she had experienced enough to pour it into a novel. A Free Soul, a semi-story of her life, was published William Randolph Hearst’s Cosmopolitan Book Corporation, becoming a hot-seller. It cast its heroine as the daughter of an alcoholic attorney, who takes a sexual walk on the wild side with a gangster, becoming addicted to his lifestyle, and ultimately leading to her own downfall.

As the daughter gets herself into more and more trouble, the father ruins his life with his drinking. It was a provocative subject; very hot material for the time, but it was the type of story which would have not been done as affectively in silent pictures. There was no better year for the novel to be published, for 1927 was the year Hollywood forever changed with the release of The Jazz Singer, the first movie to introduce vocal sound technology.

When Metro Goldwyn Mayer purchased the rights for the story, they had the idea of cast Joan Crawford in the title role. She had shot to fame in Our Dancing Daughters (1928)---a title which gives away the type of star she became known as. Her casting was welcomed by St. Johns. Crawford had the right kind of torrid-appeal to the movie audiences, but she was screen-immature. She still had a lot to learn about the medium, as her first sound movies prove.

This immaturity as an actress, and that Norma had proved herself to be the most important asset to Metro Goldwyn Mayer after her winning of the Best Actress Oscar for The Divorcee (1930), and the higher box office returns for her racy film cycle---Divorcee, Let Us Be Gay, Strangers May Kiss, only solidified their decision to cast Norma.

One problem did arise in the final script, however. The story focuses more on Stephen Ashe’s downfall as the film progresses. To subsidize her work in the film, Norma and Adrian worked on the designing of a wardrobe that would go down in film history. To make sure all eyes were on her, Norma sacrificed underwear for her art. A series of silky, satin gowns hid nothing about her figure, and revealed that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

This, on top of her in-your-face sexual persona made sure people would not forget her. And they certainly did not. A Free Soul opened to critical acclaim, though it was condemned by the censors. Cal York wrote just after the film’s release:

“One of the main objects in conversation over the Hollywood tea-tables is the change that has taken place in Norma Shearer. Once the discreet little lady of the films, she is now appearing in gowns so sensational that they make even hard-boiled Hollywood gulp a few gulps. When she is having her clothes designed for picture purposes she insists that they show as much of her anatomy as the law and Will Hays allow. And certainly being the wife of Irving Thalberg she gets whatever she wants on the MGM lot.”

Norma responded to the criticisms directly in the April issue of Modern Screen:

“I feel the morals of yesterday are no more. They are as dead as the day they were lived. Economic independence has put woman on the same footing as man. A discriminating man and a fastidious woman now amount to the same identical thing. There is no difference.”

Below: Lionel Barrymore and Norma Shearer have a unique father/daughter relationship in A Free Soul.



The credits for this movie overlook the San Francisco skyline. The opening scene for this movie establishes the unique relationship between attorney Stephen Ashe and his daughter, Jan. As she prepares for an important day, he is clueless to what “the modern woman should wear.”

She emerges from the bathroom and joins him for breakfast. His mother telephones, asking if they plan on attending her birthday dinner that night. Stephen has forgotten, but Jan makes the promise to her grandmother, and also promises, in directly, to try to have him show up sober.

In an effort to not ruffle her father’s feathers, she doesn’t mention a word.

Gangster Ace Wilfong is on trial for his life. All it takes is one look at him for Jan to be smitten. Her father is defending Ace’s life, and a hat at least two sizes too small lead to the jury’s conclusion that Wilfong is innocent. Stephen Ashe has saved his life.

Later that night, the entire Ashe family is gathered for their grandmother’s birthday. Dwight Winthrop is also attending. A famous polo player, he and Jan have been serious for some time now, and only recently agree to take their relationship to another level. He is intent on marrying Jan, who looks out the window to see her father stumble out of his automobile.

He’s smashed.

Stephen enters the room with the help of Ace. “He has disgraced this family for twenty years,” one of the guests says. His mother is heartbroken, and Jan tries to break the awkward silence by introducing Ace to everyone, though they could care less.

“What’s the matter with you bunch of snobs, anyway?” She asks. When they have no answer, she apologizes to Ace on behalf of her rude family. When he says he’ll be leaving, she announces that she is going with him.

Grandma Ashe tries to stop Jan, that it is indecent, but she insists that she must go.

In the car with Ace, they stop at a little hamburger house with the plan on eating like a King and Queen. Almost as soon as they place their order, Ace hears a car speed up, and back behind the restaurant. A drive-by shooting leaves his windshield like Swiss Cheese, and they turn around and take off.

He takes Jan back to his place…hidden from the rest of the world. “Tell me, why did those men want to kill you just now?” She asks, before turning around to a startling group of men behind her. Jan remains fidgety until Ace brings her into his room, where she goes from the uncomfortable to the ultra erotic in the blink of an eye. She’s taken with his lifestyle, with what just happened in the car, with his way of life. It is unlike anything else she has ever experienced before in her life, and she’s ready to make this a truly unforgettable night.
Jan and her father go out for dinner. He tries to resist the alcohol, but he can’t do it. When she leaves, he takes to, of all places, Ace’s speakeasy. There Ace announces his intentions to marry Jan, to which Stephen responds that he will never permit anything of the kind. His daughter is too good for Ace Wilfong, and will marry a respectable gentleman like Dwight. Ace’s anger is enough to have him storm out of his own bar and right up to his room.

“Hello there…” It’s Jan, appearing in a doorway in basically a piece of silk with a rope tied around the waste.

“Say I was just wondering what I’d do if you stopped coming up here.” Ace responds. He begins to talk about wanting to take their relationship to a more personal level. She laughs him off. “Say, don’t women ever want to talk?” he asks.

“Men of action are better in action. They don’t talk well.”

She laughs when he asks her to marry him, to which he responds in anger. Getting serious, she tells Ace that marrying him would change everything for her. People would never look at her the same (so I guess its okay to sleep with him, as long as she doesn’t marry him). “What’s in the future,” she wonders, “I don’t know.”

“I’m telling you.”

“Oh, no you’re not. No one is.” It’s that feminist assertion which places Norma Shearer above the other actresses of her time. She leans back and throws her arms in the air, “Put ‘em around me.”

Downstairs, the police invade the speakeasy. Ace’s men drag a drunken Stephen upstairs, where he sees Jan sitting on steps leading towards a window. He might be drunk, but realizing his daughter has been sleeping with Ace Wilfong is enough to sober him right up.

Not saying anything, he picks himself, grabs her coat, and they leave.

Back at their house, they have a critical discussion of their future. “You’re nothing but a cheap, common, contemptible little…”

She slaps him before he can finish the sentence. Crying, she begs for his forgiveness, and for his surrendering of the bottle. “Now, Dad, you’ve won only once case in the last six months. There’s only one reason you’ve lost all the rest.” He tells her that he can’t do it. He can’t live without his drinks.

Jan makes a final solution. She’ll give up what she needs, Ace, if he’ll give up what he needs, alcohol. With an agreement reached, they make a trip to the great outdoors. They spend three months in Yosemite, with Stephen staying sober the entire trip. When it comes time to leave, he grows leery of returning to reality, and stops in the liquor store for something to drink. Jan catches him drunk hours later, and heads back to Ace Wilfong when her family decides they want nothing to do with her.

When she goes to his apartment, he’s icy towards her warm hello. She left him for three months while he planned that they would be married. Well, now he has decided that time has come. It only takes a second for her slip out of his apartment behind his back before he can arrange a ceremony.

Fortunately for Jan, Dwight is still there for her. She confides in him about the mistakes she has made, about her regrets. While so much has changed for her, his feelings remain the same.

Ace storms into Jan’s place, saying that they’re going to be married right away. Dwight stands up to Ace, who insists that Jan “tossed all the Ritz overboard months ago. She came to my place and she stayed there…She’s mine…She belongs to me.” And if Dwight dares marry Jan, he won’t live long enough to start the honeymoon.

Dwight goes to Ace’s office one night, pulls out a pistol and shoots him dead. Arrested, Jan goes to visit him in jail. She decides to find her father to act as Dwight’s attorney. She searches the dreads of the city to find her father, all alone, drunk, and passed out on a cot.

On the witness stand, Jan surrenders her reputation, confessing to her relationship with Ace Wilfong. Before he can finish his statement, Stephen falls to the floor of the courtroom and dies. Jan, over his body, lets out a bloody scream. But Dwight is found innocent.

The film ends with Jan and Dwight leaving San Francisco, planning to start their new life together.

This is a harshly dramatic movie…one of the most dramatic of all the Pre-Codes. There is no attempt to make comic relief here from beginning to end the film deals with strictly adult material, and even the happy ending is filmed solemnly.

On top of the brilliant acting, it’s what makes A Free Soul such a fine example of moviemaking.

Norma Shearer is phenomenal. If she deserved an Oscar for The Divorcee, then she deserved three for this movie. Here her performance calls for so much in terms of emotion, but the most popular example of her work in the film is her erotic scenes with Clark Gable. This begins when she first arrives at his apartment. Her body movements are slow and subtle, making that breath-taking gown cling to her body in all of the right spots.

When she sits on the couch and runs her hands along the side of her head, she looks like a deranged maniac trying to hold herself back from pouncing on her victim, which is exactly what she is doing.

Her second big sex scene is the film’s most notorious. Watching her appear in that doorway is something one sees in a movie and never forgets. Everything about her performance is on key. The way she grins while she runs her fingers along his jacket. The way she shakes her head slightly so her hair moves about. Her walk. Her delivery of her lines. Everything is there; nothing is missing. It is impossible to imagine Joan Crawford or even Barbara Stanwyck being as on-key as Norma is without coming off as cheap or slutty.

And that’s just how she is. Like Cagney’s gangsters, one doesn’t look down on Norma’s free-spirited young woman as a problem of society, but a rather admirable girl who knows exactly what she wants and how to get it.

As she tells Ace “Oh no you’re not, no one is,” she’s giving us a fine example of how no one can control this young woman’s life but her.

But sex isn’t the only honor Norma deserves; she also gives the film a real dramatic punch. Watch her in the scene where she and Lionel Barrymore have their critical father/daughter moment, where she agrees to give up Ace if he gives up booze. The tears continuously fall from her eyes, yet she’s so involved in delivering her speech, it’s almost like she doesn’t even notice. That’s what makes a fine actress.

While Norma dominates the first half of this movie, Lionel Barrymore dominates the second. He is character acting; he does that in all of his movies but here he’s so believable as a man who is like so many out there. He is controlled by alcohol. It dominates his entire life, effecting his relationships, the way he behaves, and his appearance. Everything in A Free Soul suggests that he is a full-blown alcoholic, Clarence Brown makes no attempts for subtly.

Clark Gable is entirely absent of human emotion, though he is so unattractively photographed. The only question one has to ask about A Free Soul is how Norma is so smitten with him upon eye’s first glance. He does die a memorable death, bringing down his office supplies with him as he goes.

Leslie Howard starts off as little more than a doormat, but progresses to hero by the finale.

Still packing a one-two punch as powerful as the day it was first released, today A Free Soul remains dramatic through its nostalgia. Seen today, it makes one ask if people of the time were seriously tackling such issues still controversial today.

In ways, these pre-code films show us how far we have come, how little things have changed, and how much longer we still have to go.

Below: Leslie Howard didn't stand a chance between Lionel Barrymore's alcoholic lawyer, Gable's gangster, and Norma Shearer's wardrobe.



Vintage Reviews:

Talking pictures are by no means elevated by the presentation of "A Free Soul," last night's screen contribution put on at the Astor. Nevertheless, it should be stated that Lionel Barrymore does all that is possible with his role. In fact, his is the only characterization that rings true, the other players being handicapped either through miscasting, the false conception of human psychology or poorly written lines. Norma Shearer may be the star of this film, but Mr. Barrymore steals whatever honors there may be.

This offering is an adaptation of Willard Mack's melodrama of the same title, which in turn was based on a novel by Adela Rogers St. Johns. Miss Shearer, who looks as captivating as ever, is called upon to act a part which is quite unsuited to her intelligent type of beauty. Leslie Howard is lost in the shuffle for some time, but he finally turns up as the hero in this lurid, implausible affair. Clark Gable is all very well as a gangster, but it is problematical whether a young woman of Miss Shearer's type would ever become enamored of an individual who behaves as he does here.

Not only are the natures of the persons involved frightfully strained, but also the incidents. James Gleason is called upon to be the bottle bearer for Stephen Ashe, a bibulous but brilliant lawyer, and Lucy Beaumont deals out a little pathos.

Undoubtedly all the members of the cast have ability, but the doings in this film benefit but little by their talents, except, as has been set forth, through Mr. Barrymore's portrayal. And even he has to compete with tremendous odds to be convincing.

Stephen Ashe (Mr. Barrymore) is somewhat reminiscent of Sir Gilbert Parker's character, Charles ("Beauty") Steele in ("The Right of Way"), but that story was much more worthy than that of this current film. Ashe is a drunkard, but in the early scenes he succeeds in winning the acquittal of Ace Wilfong in the latter's murder trial. During the dramatic moments in the court room, Wilfong conducts himself with such nonchalance that one might imagine that he was a defendant upon a minor charge.

Once he is freed, Jan Ashe, Stephen's daughter, played by Miss Shearer, becomes enamored of Wilfong, who is referred to as a gambler and an underworld leader—otherwise a gangster. When Ashe discovers this unfortunate and unnatural affection his daughter has for Wilfong he makes an agreement with her to give up drinking if she will see no more of her lover. This lasts for some time, but eventually Ashe buys a bottle of whisky and apparently his daughter takes advantage of her father's weakness to renew her affair with Wilfong.

In course of time, Jan is finally made aware of the brutishness of Wilfong, who presumably is not in the least grateful for Ashe's having saved him from the gallows. He announces his intention of marrying Jan and when Dwight Winthrop (played by Mr. Howard), who has really been in love with her, comes to Wilfong's apartment, the leading light of the underworld threatens to expose his relations with Jan and, incidentally, informs Winthrop that if he interferes with his (Wilfong) marrying Jan, that young man will find life very brief.

Undaunted, Winthrop goes to Wilfong's gambling place a little later and is ushered into the ganster's den. He does not give the gambler a chance to speak, but shoots him through the heart and then calls up the police on the telephone and announces the he has killed Wilfong during a quarrel over a gambling debt.

Jan apparently knows where to find her father, and the climax comes when Ashe turns up in the court room during the trial of Winthrop. He puts his daughter on the witness stand and she confesses her relations with Wilfong and also tells of the gambler's threats just before the shooting. Then, in summing up the case, Ashe tells the jury that the real murderer is himself, as he has neglected his daughter. He falls over dead just when his speech is ended.

The producers have taken unusual liberties with the law and court room procedure. The lawyer for the defense is an artist in tautology and redundants. Ashe, who knows nothing of the case, staggers into the court room and is permitted to undertake the case without any delay. Clarence Brown, the director of this picture, goes to great pains to show that Eddie has a whisky bottle in his pocket, and soon this individual is beheld pouring out some of the liquor into a paper cup to stimulate Ashe. Nobody in the court room is supposed to notice this, but all the spectators in the theatre are given a chance to see it. This is on a par with many of the other happenings in this unimaginative production.
Written by Mordaunt Hall. Published June 3, 1931 in the New York Times.

Below: Norma's eye-popping entrance.



Vintage Advertisements:

Private Lives (1931)

 



Cast:

Norma Shearer ... Amanda Prynne

Robert Montgomery ... Elyot Chase
Reginald Denny ... Victor Prynne
Una Merkel ... Sibyl Chase
Jean Hersholt ... Oscar
George Davis ... Bell Hop

Directed by Sidney Franklin.
Produced by Irving Thalberg.
Based on the play by Noel Coward.

Original Music by William Axt.
Cinematography by Ray Binger.
Film Editing by Conrad A. Nervig.
Art Direction by Cedric Gibbons.
Costume Design by Adrian.
Sound Recording by Douglas Shearer.

Released December 12, 1931.
A Metro Goldwyn Mayer Picture.

Box Office Information:

Cost of Production: $500,000
Domestic Gross: $814,000
Forgein Gross: $311,000
Total Gross: $1,125,000
Profit: $256,000

Background:

Concluding yet another highly successful and profitable year, Norma Shearer appeared in the first film adaptation of Noel Coward’s now-legendary Private Lives (1931).

Irving Thalberg first acquired the rights to the property in January, 1931 before the play even opened. When it emerged as one of the most successful of the season, Thalberg went on with his idea of a polished film starring Norma and frequent costar Robert Montgomery as the neurotic Amanda and brutish Elyot.

For the choice of director, it was clear that not anyone could be assigned to the task. Two years earlier, Sidney Franklin had done well directing Norma in The Last of Mrs. Cheyney (1929), a film adaptation of the comedic stage play by Frederick Lonsdale. The film not only proved Norma could do comedy, but that she was also believable as a sophisticated upper-class woman. Finally she had found another niche for herself outside of the silly ingénue roles which plagued the majority of her silent film career.

The stage version of Private Lives opened on January 27, 1931 at the Times Square Theatre in New York. Noel Coward played Elyot, while Gertrude Lawrence played Amanda, and Laurence Oliver and Jill Esmond played the roles of Victor and Sybil, respectively.

However Coward went about directing, everyone agreed that it worked. In fact, it worked so well that the actors played it out in front of MGM cameras with the idea of inspiring director Sidney Franklin to keep as much as the Coward spark as possible. The film provided a neatly-detailed guideline for Metro‘s film adaptation, and would become a standard practice for bringing stage dramas to the screen later on.

Because of this, Private Lives is unlike the majority of the early-filmed theatre, particularly comedies such as The Last of Mrs. Cheyney and Charming Sinners (1929). It’s brisk, to the point, and only some static points to the fact that this was filmed only three years after sound pictures emerged.

The attention to detail helped make Private Lives a must-see film.

Below: Aside from sleek gowns, Norma also was favorably photographed in fine suits in her movies, such as this one, which she wears in Private Lives.



Webmaster's Review:

In a traditional ceremony, Elyot and Sybil are getting married. In an office, Amanda is getting eloped with Victor. Arriving on their separate honeymoons, Sybil asks Elyot if his is as happy as when he married Amanda. Victor says he will never treat Amanda as badly as Elyot did. Both Amanda and Elyot insist to their new spouses that the subject of their former relationships isn’t the best topic to discuss on a honeymoon.

They don’t get it.

What makes this situation more bizarre is that Amanda and Victor and Elyot and Sybil are at the same hotel, right next door to one another. Both Victor and Elyot go to the balconies to make cocktails, and are introduced to one another. Victor returns inside to tell Amanda, where we see her primping in practically nothing. It’s a shot to show audiences what the modern woman of 1931 should look like when alone with her husband.

Later in the evening, Elyot and Amanda step out onto their terraces, clearly thinking of one another. Amanda recognizes a familiar noise, and turns to realize it’s Elyot humming and whistling a familiar song. She turns around to run, but decides to shut the door and remain on the balcony instead and sing the lyrics.


A dumbfounded Elyot jumps, realizing his neurotic ex-wife is right next door.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

“I’m enjoying my honeymoon.”

“What a coincidence. So am I.”

They fake lies of happiness to one another in stern tones, only to return to their new spouses and insist on leaving immediately. Elyot goes overboard insulting Sybil when she refuses to go to Paris. Victor also refuses to leave. Ironic, isn’t it, that both Elyot and Amanda would choose Paris as a hideout from one another?

Amanda and Elyot escape to their balconies, and ponder the solutions to their problems. They share cigarettes and cocktails, and begin to laugh and reminisce over old times while throwing out some insults to each other between the two.

While their song, “I’ll Always Love You,” is repeatedly played by the orchestra, they confess that they still love one another. “I want you back again, please” Elyot pleads to her. They embrace for a kiss and decide to run away. To avoid future fights, they agree that all previous quarrels will be silenced with “Solon and Isaacs.”

They take off to Switzerland.

Sharing probably the largest bed you will ever see with total strangers in a cabin, host Oscar shows them around the Swiss mountain side, providing them with breakfast and a rock climbing experience. Between their passionate reunion, there still are some signs of hostility, especially when they discuss certain aspects of their past, such as their loyalty to one another.

“Sollochs” becomes the new phrase to end quarrels between themselves. In a lift riding along the mountain, Amanda goes on about Victor’s love for her, trying to get Elyot insane with jealousy. “I’m sick to death of you yap, yap, yapping about Victor,” he shouts. Their argument continues, in public as they board a train, to which Elyot shouts “Sollochs” to end it.

Alone together in a cabin, Amanda and Elyot have made up once more. They cuddle, kiss, and go on with one another. He tells her about how much he missed her when he traveled the world to forget her. She insists they make up for lost time, and decide to make another trip together.

He tries to make love to her, but she tells him “it’s too soon after dinner.” He’s ticked, and they begin making hostile remarks to one another.

“You really can be more irritating than anyone in the whole world,” Elyot says. Talking about Peter, a former admirer of Amanda’s, really sets the two off into insanity. She rushes over to throw a record in. Elyot shouts at her to turn it off. She turns it up. He runs over and scratches the record. She picks it up and smacks it over his head, “Sollochs yourself!”

She runs over to the couch, and screams “I’m tired of listening to you, you big sadistic bully!” smacking him across the face. He gets up and they begin wrestling, breaking furniture and lamps. Victor and Sybil enter the room as the fight ends in screams, and both Elyot and Amanda run to their rooms.

Dawn arrives, with the room in shambles, the four have breakfast together. There Elyot and Amanda exchange insults, and Victor and Sybil get into a surprising argument. Amanda and Elyot become amused, and run off to be together again.

Comedy is so scarcely associated with Norma Shearer, but here she proves herself to be on the level with Rosalind Russell or Lucille Ball. She’s hysterical, and great with her physical comedy as well as delivering her excellent lines. For me, her funniest moment is when she exaggerates the use of lipstick to Montgomery right before they brawl. She’s beautifully photographed and gowned, being complimented by memorable hats and attractive coiffures.

She’s so affectionate with Montgomery, wrapping her arms all over him and kissing every bit of his face and neck. She shows us the sexual side of the relationship with Montgomery throughout the movie, with scarcely having to mention it in word.

Montgomery makes no attempt for sympathy. He’s rude to everyone, has a bad attitude, and thinks he is better than everyone, announcing that “certain woman should be struck regularly.” All of this is needed, however, to showcase the brutality of his character, and Amanda’s sexual reaction towards it.

A similar relationship of a more dramatic core would take place between Stanley and Stella in A Streetcar Named Desire (1951).

Reginald Denny and Una Merkel are good in their roles, though Merkel does go over the top and get annoying after few bats with Montgomery. This is worsened by her high-pitched voice and off-beat face.

Director Sidney Franklin does a good job of bringing this one to life. While at times it does feel like a filmed stage play, the camera follows the actors around the sets, which was something new for the time. This gives incredible reaction shots, especially for Norma, and there are several great close-ups of her thinking about what to do next.

The sets are beautiful, especially the rock-climbing scene, which is realistically done. But be prepared for the fight scene, there is no holding back from either Montgomery or Shearer, and there is extensive, believable damage done.

Keep an eye out for when Norma flips through the magazine, enraged at Montgomery. The magazine is upside-down.

Below: There was no holding back from the Shearer/Montgomery battle in Private Lives.



Vintage Reviews:

Sidney Franklin has followed the Noel Coward play closely with the addition of a number of interpolated scenes and the changing of the final locale from a Paris apartment to a Swiss chalet. Both Norma Shearer and Robert Montgomery capably handle themselves as the divorced couple who again run away together the night of their honeymoons with their newly-acquired better halves. Both having tempestuous natures, their love making and quarreling is equally violent and the warfare is apt to start any time.

As the somewhat neurotic man in the case, Montgomery plays deftly and well. So does Shearer, but the medium of the screen has lost many of the laugh lines which did much to sustain the play. However, Franklin establishes and maintains a good pace after a rather slow start.
Published in Variety, January, 1932.

Noel Coward's stage comedy, "Private Lives," has blossomed into a motion picture which yesterday afternoon met with high favor from a Capitol audience. It has been changed in a few respects, chiefly a matter of geography, but most of the clever lines and the hectic incidents have survived the studio operation. Like the play, the film begins on the Riviera, but instead of ending in Paris the closing sequence is in an Alpine chalet.

Sidney Franklin's direction is excellent and Norma Shearer as Amanda Prynne gives an alert, sharp portrayal. She appears to have been inspired by the scintillating dialogue, and, taking all things into consideration, it is her outstanding performance in talking pictures. Robert Montgomery struggles with matters at the outset, but he soon succeeds in doing well enough with his rôle, that of Elyot Chase. The other couple are portrayed by Una Merkel and Reginald Denny, who both deserve a great deal of credit for their work.

Although some of the scenes are rambunctious, particularly those in the Alpine chalet, there is always the bright talk. If any one wants to know whether Amanda breaks a phonograph record over Elyot's head, let it be known that she does. He tells her that she has no sense of glamour and she retorts that one can't be expected to have a sense of glamour with a crick in the neck. That priceless line "intemperate tots" comes in for its full worth, when Elyot is dilating upon the three small drinks of brandy he has consumed. Amanda and Elyot have a high old cat-and-dog time in the chalet, breaking furniture and vases and slapping each other's faces.

It will be remembered that Amanda and Elyot, after having been divorced, find themselves with new partners in adjacent quarters of a Riviera hotel. Elyot has a spat with his new wife, Sibyl, and Amanda quarrels with her new husband, Victor. The result is that Amanda and Elyot decide to run away together to the Alpine retreat, leaving Sibyl and Victor to sympathize with each other.

Amanda and Elyot are beheld cooing one moment and then some reference is made about Sibyl or Victor and they flare into tempers. This sort of thing lasts during most of the picture, and even in the early stages one is entertained by the kissing and hissing between Amanda and Victor and Elyot and the quibbling Sibyl.

The bickering between Amanda and Elyot has its moments of truce, when one or the other ejaculates, "Solomon Isaacs," which because it is found to be too long is eventually abbreviated to "Sollocks," which in the film chances to be the name of the nearest railroad station to the Swiss chalet.

After the steam of a final quarrel between Victor and Sibyl, things calm down for a few moments and a fresh outburst from Elyot and Amanda is halted by the conductor on the train which they have just boarded, announcing "Sollocks."

This is a swift and witty picture and, even though it cannot boast of the effective presence of the author in the part of Elyot, it is one of the most intelligent comedies that has come to the screen.

At the same theatre is a short film called "Jackie Cooper's Christmas Party," which shows such film luminaries as Miss Shearer, Clark Gable, Wallace Beery, Lionel Barrymore, in fact, all the top-notch Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer players, serving as hosts to children at a Yuletide dinner. It is quite an amusing sketch.
Published in the New York Times, December 19, 1931.

Strangers May Kiss (1931)




Cast:

Norma Shearer ... Lisbeth Corbin

Robert Montgomery ... Steve
Neil Hamilton ... Alan Harlow
Marjorie Rambeau ... Geneva Sterling
Irene Rich ... Celia Corbin
Hale Hamilton ... Andrew Corbin
Conchita Montenegro ... Spanish Dancer
Jed Prouty ... Harry Evans
Albert Conti ... Count De Bazan
Henry Armetta ... Crying Waiter
George Davis ... Hotel Waiter

Directed by George Fitzmaurice.
Produced by Irving Thalberg.
Based on the novel by Ursula Parrott.

Screenplay by John Meehan.
Cinematography by William Daniels.
Gowns by Adrian.
Sound Recording by Douglas Shearer.
Art Direction by Cedric Gibbons.
Film Editing b Hugh Wynn.

Released April 4, 1931.
A Metro Goldwyn Mayer Picture.

Box Office Information:

Cost of Production: $417,000
Domestic Gross: $980,000
Forgein Gross: $292,000
Total Gross: $1,272,000
Profit: $313,000


Background:

On November 5, 1930, Norma Shearer received the Academy Award for Best Actress for her work in The Divorcee (1930). The film, based on an Ursula Parrot novel, was a fantastic success, changing the way audiences would perceive Norma Shearer for the next few years, until the Censorships forced them to change their minds.

But at the time Strangers May Kiss was filmed in January, 1931, the Hollywood studios were still hell-bent on pushing the envelope that Norma created with The Divorcee, and pushed it herself in Let Us Be Gay (1930), her follow-up to that movie.

Between the time Let Us Be Gay was released in the summer of 1930, and Norma’s winning of the Academy Award, she also delivered birth to a son, Irving Thalberg Jr. Strangers May Kiss was not only Norma’s first movie since winning the highest honor in the movie colony, but also her first after pregnancy. She wondered if her figure, looks, and “Shearer chic” were still in check.

Costar Robert Montgomery later elaborated:

“In Strangers May Kiss I sensed a new restlessness in Norma. Her career ambitions were as high as ever, but I felt she was compensating for something. It was nothing against the Thalberg marriage---it was a wonderful marriage---everyone thought them the ideal couple---but she seemed to be somehow taking charge on her own, while remaining always very solicitous of Irving in every respect. I was not the only one who felt Norma had such a strong inner drive, such a fierce discipline, she would have made it to all-out stardom no matter what the circumstances of her life.”

She placed her utmost confidence in cinematographer William Daniels and costume designer Adrian to make her look her best. “She worried a lot about her figure and her complexion,” Daniels later remembered. “We dickered a lot about lighting. I had to assure her several times that her figure was as svelte and shapely as before her pregnancy.”

To make Norma’s screen return a sure-fire success story, Irving Thalberg took to Strangers May Kiss, another Ursula Parrot story, with the idea of recreating The Divorcee magic. As with its predecessor, MGM all but ignored the novel, which originally has Lisbeth committing suicide after waiting for her lover to return without any word from him for years.

Still, Norma Shearer remained concerned. An obsessive by nature, she was frantic during the entire production until the finished film premiered to enthusiastic reviews and a potent box-office welcome from her fans.

Thousands of letters arrived from across the country to congratulate Norma on her big screen return.

Trivia:

Strangers May Kiss caused an uproar from critics and censors convinced that sex and vulgarity on the screen was on the rise (wonder why?).

An inter-office memo from an employee of the Motion Picture Producers and Distributors of America, dated April 13, 1931, stated that “it would be difficult for me to exaggerate me revulsion at this picture and my sense of horror that our present set-up is permitting product of this type to go through.”

The picture was flat-out rejected by censorship boards in Hungary and Ireland, while Mexican officials remained offended about the interpretation of their culture in the film.




Webmaster's Review:

Lisbeth Corbin and Alan Harlow have been carrying on with a relationship of convenience for sometime now. When Lisbeth is asked by friend and coworker Geneva Sterling if she and Alan will marry, Lisbeth responds that “We don’t believe in the awful necessity of marriage.”

“You mean he doesn’t” insists Geneva.

“I mean what I said.”

Steve is a friend of Lisbeth’s since childhood. He is in town, and she invites him to go out to dinner with her, Alan, and Lisbeth’s Aunt Celia. Celia goes on about how her twelve years of marriage have been the happiest of her life, only to look across the room and find her husband with another woman. She gets up and leaves the table, not telling anyone, until Alan notices Andrew, Celia’s husband, and confronts him.

When Celia comes back to the table, Andrew walks up behind her, acts as if nothing is going on, and give her a kiss. By this point, everyone knows, and she’s absolutely humiliated, as if being heart-broken wasn’t enough. Steve and Lisbeth try to comfort her back at the apartment, but she insists she wants to be alone. Lisbeth understands, and she makes her way out of the high-rise with Steve, only to learn that Celia has thrown herself over the balcony, killing herself.

It’s Christmas Eve. Geneva has plans to go out with a beau of hers, while Lisbeth sits solemnly at home alone. She hasn’t heard from Alan in weeks or possibly months. Unfortunately for her, his career as a writer keeps him busy traveling the world. But just as soon as she has lost all hope, he returns, announcing that he is leaving for Mexico, and that Lisbeth is coming with him.

Alan and Lisbeth patch up, make up for a loss of time, and enjoy each other’s company thoroughly in Mexico. It is here where Alan tells her he has a wife in Paris. He didn’t mean to keep it a secret from her, but his wife is no longer part of his life, so he saw no reason to mention that.

The awkwardness of that situation comes to a complete end when their relationship is broken up entirely. Alan must go to Panama---alone---leaving Lisbeth. Devastated, she travels to Europe, having a new lover every new day as she travels through Rome, Paris, and Monte Carlo. But it is in Spain where she meets up with Steve again. It’s been two years, and she’s learned a great deal becoming a noble woman of the world.

“I’m in an orgy, wallowing, and I love it,” she announces.

Steve gets her to calm down, and the endless use of sex to fill the void in her life Alan left is over. He has just been able to secure a divorce from his wife in Paris, and wants to marry Lisbeth, but his mind changes when he arrives in Paris only to find out about her reckless lifestyle.

Of course he refuses to have anything to do with her.

Back in New York, Steve comforts Lisbeth once more, taking her to see the Manhattan Follies. Outside of the theater they see Steve, where Lisbeth says what she believe to be her final goodbyes. Teary-eyed throughout the show, and grabbing onto Steve’s arm, she notices Alan standing in the isle, watching her. He reaches out towards her, and the two leave the theater together with locked arms.

For this reviewer, Strangers May Kiss is better than The Divorcee by a long shot. The story is better, the pace of the film moves much quicker, and there are a lot of setting changes to keep from dull moments.

Norma Shearer is beautiful, and she is better here than in Divorcee and Let Us Be Gay. She has more emotional scenes, handles them with more restraint, and is beautifully gowned throughout the movie. Her wardrobe of slinky gowns which just drape over her small frame, making her appear both taller and slimmer, are breathtaking.

Unfortunately, Norma’s use of the white-make-up causes her face to be almost completely washed out in some scenes. There is a beautiful white and black contrast of the camera, making the darks and lights appear noticeably different, but this works against Norma’s desire to be to pale onscreen.

But nonetheless, she does appear beautiful, especially while on her European jaunt. It’s this type of setup which fitted so well to her onscreen persona. She’s allowed to grin, laugh, and charm her way throughout the major capitals of Europe. George Fitzmaurice does a great bit where we see Norma dancing with three different men in three different locations.

It’s a great way to showcase her, umm…”activeness.”

Robert Montgomery seems to have been picked up from The Divorcee shoot and dropped right into this movie. In the beginning, he does a lot of goofy gestures in order for amusement, but he gets very well by the final reel. He had a great relationship with Norma. While it wasn’t as romantic and passionate as her onscreen love scenes with Fredric March, Robert Montgomery was best cast opposite Norma as the friend she never sleeps with, but accompanies her on all of her immoral fun. As she does for him. They look out for one another, are there throughout all of the love drama, but remain devoted in a way which can never leave them to the altar.

Of course the did play married couples in some of their movies, but they were best opposite each other as best friends.

Irene Rich and Marjorie Rambeau are perfectly cast in their roles. Both give believable, but unfortunately brief performances. Neil Hamilton is also good as Alan, and his chemistry with Norma is very involving. Unfortunately, while actors like Montgomery tried too hard to give off charm, there were others like Hamilton and Chester Morris who didn’t seem to try hard enough. And there are moments in the movie where he doesn’t seem to want to be there.

Listen for some good lines, including where Norma announces “I’m free, white, and twenty-one.” And when Robert Montgomery gives her some advice, “We [men] like our drinks mixed, but our women straight.” And when he says “There’s a broken heart for every light on Broadway.”

Let Us Be Gay (1930)



Cast:

Norma Shearer ... Mrs. Katherine Brown

Marie Dressler ... Mrs. 'Bouccy' Bouccicault
Rod La Rocque ... Bob Brown
Gilbert Emery ... 'Towney' Townley
Hedda Hopper ... Madge Livingston
Raymond Hackett ... Bruce Keane
Sally Eilers ... Diane
Tyrell Davis ... Wallace Granger
Wilfred Noy ... Whitman, the Butler
William H. O'Brien ... Struthers
Sybil Grove ... Perkins

Directed by Robert Z. Leonard.
Produced by Robert Z. Leonard & Irving Thalberg.
Based on the play by Rachel Crothers.

Dialogue by Frances Marion.
Cinematography by Norbert Brodine.
Film Editing by Basil Wrangell.
Art Direction by Cedric Gibbons.
Gowns by Adrian.
Sound Recording by Douglas Shearer.

Released August 9, 1930.
A Metro Goldwyn Mayer Picture.


Box Office Information:

Cost of Production: $257,000.
Domestic Gross: $829,000.
Forgein Gross: $370,000.
Total Gross: $1,199,000.
Profit: $527,000

Background:


If The Divorcee (1930) was the film which brought Norma Shearer into the scandalous side of the Hollywood limelight, Let Us Be Gay showcased her still wallowing in playful eroticism. Released within four months of each other, the two films mirrored Metro Goldwyn Mayer’s promotion of the “new” Norma Shearer of talking films, while playing off of similar themes to give two entirely different messages to the movie-going public.

As where The Divorcee was the big shocker produced to push the sexual envelop to American audiences, Let Us Be Gay took a lighter view on the subjects of love, loyalty, sex, and self-truth. Being more of a comedy rather than modern drama, it almost seemed to promote the idea that adultery can indeed be justified in some cases. Divorcee, on the other hand, went about promoting the idea of feminine sexual freedom---living the life of a man without a wedding ring even being enough to hold a girl back from enjoying life.

Rachel Crothers’ Let Us Be Gay made its Broadway debut on February 19, 1929 and starred Francine Larrimore and Warren William in the leading roles of Kitty and Bob Brown, a married couple on the rocks when Bob grows tired of Kitty’s haggard-housewife appearance and manner. Successfully running until December of that year, the play centered around Kitty’s leaving of Bob when she finds out he has been unfaithful. They meet again at the home of Mrs. Boucicault, with Bob in awe of Kitty’s changed appearance and masked persona. Time goes by, and Bob realizes that Kitty is still the same woman he had loved when they first married, only she has become more sexually pleasing to the eye, making the audience come to the conclusion that sex and love can be two different things.

However, when one is sexually attracted to their true love, it can mean only the best of things.

The part was ideal for Norma, and gave her a chance to show off some of her comedic talents, an aspect of her talent few recognize because she’s remembered for only the heavy dramatic moments of her best-known movies (Marie Antoinette going to the guillotine, for instance). She shows us the audience that she masks being a hard-edged “woman of the world” with her free-spirited manner, though on the inside she is still the small-town housewife who makes her own dresses and tip-toes around the house on Sunday mornings so her husband can catch a few more minutes of precious sleep.

This is where Let Us Be Gay and The Divorcee become two totally different films. Jerry tries to turn herself into something she’s not out of spite, as where Kitty simply pretends to be more than she is, staying true to herself and her values on the inside.

An added bonus to this brilliant little film is Marie Dressler, who was on the verge of a serious turn around in her career. After being a fairly famous actress on stage and silence films, her career had slipped into such a slum where she was saved by friend Frances Marion, who urged Metro Goldwyn Mayer to give her steady work. Appearances opposite Marion Davies in The Patsy (1927), Greta Garbo in Anna Christie (1930), and Norma in Let Us Be Gay had the audiences favor her brusque manner and unusual sense of humor. Remembered today mostly for her waterfront comedies with Wallace Beery, in Let Us Be Gay she shows us a different side to her as an actress. Here she’s not bad to look at, and believable as a wealthy woman surrounded by only the upper-crust of society.

Let Us Be Gay becomes not only a different way for audiences to see Norma Shearer, but Marie Dressler, also. But this gets overlooked by many because it has become most mentionable by film historians for one major reason, Norma Shearer was several months pregnant with son Irving Thalberg Jr., throughout filming, and the sets and costumes had to be altered to disguise her growing appearance.

When people talk of the legendary “Shearer ambition” it’s the stuff like this they are describing.

Critics welcomed the film with pleasing reviews. They recognized the film for its potential, and a reasonably good follow-up to The Divorcee, for which Norma had just been nominated for an Academy Award for.

Earning a bigger profit than her previous venture, today it remains a quiet little treasure in Norma Shearer’s legacy as a film star. It’s worth a reevaluation.



Trivia:

Let Us Be Gay was the film adaptation of Rachel Crothers’ sophisticated stage success. Warren William, popular film actor of the early 1930s, played the Rod La Rocque role in the original stage production. In the late 1940s, Kay Francis, one of Norma’s Hollywood friends, did a few revivals of the play with major success.

After finding out she was pregnant during The Divorcee shoot, Norma and Irving rushed Let Us Be Gay into production to get a Shearer vehicle out as soon as possible before she went on maternity leave. Between the gowns by Adrian , sets by Cedric Gibbons, and photography by Norbert Brodine, the Hollywood magic proved a success when the film became a stellar hit.

Norma later turned down the 1940 film version of Crothers’ Susan and God. Joan Crawford took the role, and it became one of the biggest flops of her career.

Norma’s only movie with Rod La Rocque.

Hedda Hopper made her third of four appearances in a Shearer movie with Let Us Be Gay. They previously worked together in The Last of Mrs. Cheyney and The Snob according to IMDB, and Hopper also had a bit part in The Women (1939).

Raymond Hackett was also in The Trial of Mary Dugan (1929).

William H. O’Brien was later in Her Cardboard Lover (1942). Aside from his work with Norma, he also appeared opposite Marlon Brando [The Men, 1950] and in A Place in the Sun with Montgomery Clift, Elizabeth Taylor, and Shelley Winters.

In June 2008, the Canadian Government issued postal stamps for both Norma Shearer and Marie Dressler.

Marie Antoinette (1938)



Cast:

Norma Shearer ... Marie Antoinette

Tyrone Power ... Count Axel de Fersen
John Barrymore ... King Louis XV
Robert Morley ... King Louis XVI
Anita Louise ... Princesse de Lamballe
Joseph Schildkraut ... Duke d'Orléans
Gladys George ... Mme. du Barry
Henry Stephenson ... Count de Mercey
Cora Witherspoon ... Countess de Noailles
Barnett Parker ... Prince de Rohan
Reginald Gardiner ... Comte d'Artois
Henry Daniell ... La Motte
Leonard Penn ... Toulan
Albert Dekker ... Comte de Provence (as Albert Van Dekker)
Alma Kruger ... Empress Maria Theresa

Directed by W.S. Van Dyke & Julien Duvivier.
Produced by Hunt Stromberg & Irving Thalberg.
Based on the book by Stefan Zweig.

Screenplay by Claudine West, Donald Ogden Stewart, & Ernest Vajda.
Original Music by Herbert Stothart.
Cinematography by William H. Daniels.
Film Editing by Robert Kern.
Art Direction by Cedric Gibbons.
Costume Design by Arian & Gile Steele.
Make-Up Design by Jack Dawn.
Sound Recording by Douglas Shearer.
Special Effects by Slavko Vorkapich.
Camera and Electrical Effects by Louis Kolb.

A Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Picture.
Los Angeles Premiere on July 8, 1938.
Released August 26, 1938.

Box Office Information:

Cost of Production: $2,926,000.
Domestic Gross: $1,633,000.
Foreign Gross: $1,323,000.
Total Gross: $2,956,000.
Loss: $767,000.

Background:
Marie Antoinette…the colossal Metro Goldwyn Mayer epic made to top all of its past successes. The mightiest studio in Hollywood had succeeded---for more than fourteen years---at providing quality entertainment for the masses with solid production value. The average MGM film was equivalent to that of another major studio output, and its roster of stars topped all popularity polls throughout the 1930s.

Of its top stars, Norma Shearer was undoubtedly the biggest. To some, that popularity had been given to her by her late husband. But to the ones who were in contact with reality knew better, as the lavishness Marie Antoinette would showcase.

While vacationing in Europe with Irving Thalberg after his heart attack at the MGM Christmas Party for 1932, Norma Shearer stumbled across a copy of Stefan Zweig’s biography on Marie Antoinette, the doomed Queen of France amidst the uprising of the French Revolution. In Gavin Lambert’s Norma Shearer: A Life, the biographer writes about Shearer’s identification with Antoinette as more than just a good movie.

As Lambert writes…

“The parallels between Norma Shearer Thalberg and Zweig’s portrait of Marie explain why the book held a deep personal meaning for her. Zweig’s account of Marie when she became Queen of France---‘surrounded by the incense-fumes of extravagance idolization' and the center of a 'circle of planetary admiration’---reads like a paraphrase of Norma as Queen of the Lot, and he might have been describing her at a premiere when he wrote, ‘Whenever she appeared in the streets, the populace, thronging to see her, shouted acclamations.'"

Norma’s personal identification with the life of Marie Antoinette made the project all the more important for her, and Irving’s own enthusiasm for the production was heightened by MGM’s belief that Marie Antoinette could be popular enough to bring in prestige and profit for the studio. But conception of a final script became difficult. Because of the production code, Marie’s scandalous court life had to be toned down for the screen, her affair with Count Axel de Fersen all but implied. Not only this, but more than twenty years of drama had to be cut into no more than three hours of film.

By the time the final script was completed, something still seemed to be missing. To many, this the reason why Marie Antoinette did not become a Gone with the Wind(1939) or Cleopatra (1963). The final film carried on with Marie’s implied love affair with Fersen, giving us glimpses of excellence---in both writing and acting---of such moments as the storming of Versailles and Marie’s imprisonment. Had the affair been cut from the movie, with more drama and action thrown in, perhaps Marie Antoinette could have been twice as successful, but whether or not this is definite we will never know.

The extended production for the film was also caused by the research done by MGM’s research department and their chief costume designer, Adrian. Thousands were spent on antique furniture, filming of the Palace of Versailles, and on fine fabrics for Adrian’s creations for Norma and the entire cast. The added bonus of Technicolor made the detail all the more important.

As with sound, Metro Goldwyn Mayer was sluggish with the Technicolor technology. Two-strip Technicolor had been all the rage with films like The Toll of the Sea (1923), The Black Pirate (1926), and The Vagabond King (1930), among dozens of all singing, all dancing, all taking musicals of the early talking years. MGM had only used it in a hand-full of films, most notably in Ben-Hur (1925) and The Hollywood Revue of 1929 (1929), which Norma appeared---in a color sequence---as Juliet to John Gilbert’s Romeo.

By the time Marie Antoinette had been announced as MGM’s first color film, the three-strip process had been used notably only once, for the finale of The Cat and the Fiddle (1934), which starred Ramon Novarro and Jeanette MacDonald.

Some of Norma’s furs had been shipped across the country to be dyed a blue which would bring out the color of her eyes. Cedric Gibbons designed a Palace of Versailles twice the size of the real thing, but the project came to a halt when Irving Thalberg died suddenly of pneumonia on September 14, 1936, only two weeks after Romeo and Juliet (1937) premiered to critical acclaim.

During Norma’s mourning, she nearly died of pneumonia herself, and by the time she was prepared to work again, she was not sure if she had the ambition to. Her protection at the studio was gone, and now she had to deal with battling the higher-ups herself, and she did just fine, enduring a legal fight with Louis B. Mayer for control of Irving’s estate. She won control of Irving’s percentage of profits from the studio, which kept the star a wealthy woman the rest of her life.

When she was approached about completing Marie Antoinette, Norma agreed to make the film, but was pressured into signing a six picture contract with the studio which would pay her $150,000 a movie. With their doomed Queen of France officially cast, MGM decided to carry onward.

Charles Laughton had impressed Norma and Irving both professionally and privately with The Barretts of Wimpole Street (1934). He was the natural choice for Louis XVI, but his busy schedule made him unavailable. Peter Lorre was tested to no success.

The next “chosen” Louis XVI was Spencer Tracy. But, as Lambert wrote, “[Sidney Franklin, the director] united Norma and [Hunt] Stromberg in disagreement.” A wide variety of others made tests: Cedric Hardwicke, Ralph Richardson, Conrad Veidt, Maurice Evans, Roger Livesey, and Emlyn Williams. When Norma viewed all of the tests, it was a newcomer from London who caught her attention. Making her final decision, Norma announced that Robert Morley would be her Louis XVI, and threw a welcoming party to honor his American arrival.

Party guests included Jeanette MacDonald, Carole Lombard, Ruth Chatterton, Fred Astaire, and Janet Gaynor. At one point during that evening, Morley turned to Norma and asked, “How did you become a movie star?” Shearer flashed her charming smile and assured him with “I wanted to!”

It was at such dinners where Norma began rehearsing for her performance by bringing guests to the MGM wardrobe department where she modeled Adrian’s creations for her. Learning how to walk in gowns four to six feet in width, by the time filming began Norma moved smoother than even the most graceful ballerina.

Back at the studio, the casting of Fersen was the next task. Once again, MGM asked her if there was anyone on their roster whom she thought would fit the bill as her onscreen lover, particularly Robert Montgomery, Robert Taylor, or Franchot Tone. Norma disagreed with all the of the suggested MGM leads, and insisted on the casting of Tyrone Power, whom she had come to admire greatly in Lloyds of London (1936).

Under contract to 20th Century-Fox, Power was only twenty-four to Norma’s thirty-six, and Marie Antoinette would mark the first and last time the actor would be loaned out from his home studio.

When the MGM executives began finalizing the pre-production plans with Sidney Franklin, they became worried that the sluggish director would not succeed with such a prestigious movie. Franklin wanted some of Adrian’s designs redone, insisting they were too exaggerated, and wanted a shooting schedule of ninety days. It was then Louis B. Mayer and Hunt Stromberg decided to replace him.

W.S. Van Dyke, “One-take Woody,” would be the best choice, Mayer and Stromberg decided. He had proved his ability to makes a quality costume epic with Naughty Marietta (1935), the first teaming of Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy, which had emerged as one of MGM’s most profitable movies of that season. He was slated, much to Norma’s dismay.

A few years earlier, Ruth Chatterton, then the “First Lady of the Screen,” became enraged when Warner Brothers forced her to work with director William Wellman in two pictures. The flamboyant leading lady and the brutish director eventually became good friends. Such was the relationship of Norma and Van Dyke. On the first day of shooting, Van Dyke gave his instructions to Norma, who listened inventively. As she got up to walk onto the set, she tripped over a cable and fell right on her backside in front of cast a crew. A deadly silence followed, until Norma threw her legs up in the air and burst into laughter, bringing a laughter and applause from cast and crew. It was from then on Van Dyke decided Norma was the “swellest woman in Hollywood!”

Cameras officially started rolling December 30, 1937 at Culver City, shutting down for two weeks in Mid March to edit already filmed scenes and prepare for new ones. Completed on May, 25, 1938, Marie Antoinette had its Los Angeles premiere on July 8, 1938.

“The splendors of the French monarchy," wrote a critic for the New York Times, "in its dying days have been not simply equaled, they have been surpassed by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s film biography, Marie Antoinette, which is now in imperial, two-a-day residence at the Astor Theatre. And as far as Metro has surpassed her surroundings, Norma Shearer has surpassed the Queen herself, whose tragic and ineffectual figure was probably not nearly so much the dramatic center of all stages…”

Marie Antoinette proved to be a record breaker in both production value and box office. By the time it completed its theatrical run, the film had come to gross $3 million, making it one of the most popular films MGM had ever produced. On the box office lists that year, Marie Antoinette came in sixth in terms of popularity. In August of 1937, months before filming actually began, Jacques Tourneur was given information from MGM’s Research Department and allowed to film a brief documentary, which would be distributed as a short, to generate interest in the doomed Queen of France. Others expenses on clever movie posters, radio ads, and tours also helped popularize the film.

After Norma Shearer's retirement in 1942, Marie Antoinette faded in screen history, and was written off as a cheesy MGM drama starring the fading wife of the demised Irving Thalberg. These critics, most of whom condemned the movie without ever viewing it, were quick to blame the film’s problems on Norma, as if she had conceived and produced the entire thing herself.

With viewings of the film on Turner Classic Movies, a VHS release in 1991, and a DVD release in 2006, Marie Antoinette has come to be highly praised for its direction, prestige, and performances, especially that of Norma Shearer’s, which can easily be argued as the best she ever gave.



Vintage Reviews:

What is related on the screen is a brilliant, historic tragedy, the crushing of the French monarchy by revolution and terror. Stefan Zweig's biography of Marie Antoinette is the source from which the screenwriters have drawn most of their material.

First part is concerned with the vicious intrigues of the Versailles court and the power exerted by Mme du Barry and the traitorous Orleans. The ensembles, arranged by Albertina Rasch, suggest beautiful paintings. Second portion opens with the expose of the fraudulent sale of a diamond necklace, which precipitated the enmity of the nobility. With an aroused nation and the queen as the point of attack, the action moves swiftly to the pillage of the castle, the royal arrest, the unsuccessful escape to the border, the trials and execution of the rulers.

Norma Shearer's performance is lifted by skillful portrayal of physical and mental transitions through the period of a score of years. Her moments of ardor with Ferson (Tyrone Power) are tender and believable.

Outstanding in the acting, however, is Robert Morley, who plays the vacillating King Louis XVI. He creates sympathy and understanding for the kingly character, a dullard and human misfit.

John Barrymore as the aged Louis XV leaves a deep impress. Joseph Schildkraut is the conniving Duc d'Orleans and scores as a fastidious and scheming menace. Gladys George makes much from a few opportunities as Mme du Barry.

When illness prevented Sidney Franklin from assuming the direction of the film after arduous preparation, W.S. Van Dyke was assigned the task.

Lady of the Night (1925)



Cast:
Norma Shearer ... Molly Helmer / Florence Banning

Malcolm McGregor ... David Page
Dale Fuller ... Miss Carr
George K. Arthur ... 'Chunky' Dunn
Fred Esmelton ... Judge Banning
Lew Harvey ... Chris Helmer
Gwen Lee ... Molly's Friend
Betty Morrissey ... Gertie

Produced and Directed by Monta Bell.
From a story by Adela Rogers St. Johns.

Cinematography by André Barlatier.
Film Editing by Ralph Dawson.
Set Decoration by Cedric Gibbons.

Box Office Information:
Cost of Production: $80,000
Domestic Gross: $235,000
Forgein Gross: $91,000
Total Gross: $326,000
Profit: $96,000

Background:

If Monta Bell made Norma Shearer a star in Broadway After Dark (1924) and The Snob (1924), then his work with her in Lady of the Night (1925) can be argued as the movie which made her unforgettable.

Or at least a superstar, on the level of the top stars of the 1920s.

Norma Shearer had progressed beautifully prior to Lady of the Night’s production. Following an apprenticeship in New York, in which she began as an extra in The Flapper (1920, with Olive Thomas) and moved into starring roles in A Clouded Name and The Devil’s Partner (both 1923), she made her first film in Hollywood under the direction of Reginald Barker. Pleasure Mad was Norma’s first movie for Louis. B. Mayer and Irving Thalberg, who subsequently loaned out her services seven times in the following two years before Lady of the Night.

After this movie, she was loaned out only once more, to United Artists for Walking Up the Town (1925, which Jack Pickford [Mary’s brother]). But of her existing silent movie career, Lady of the Night would become Norma’s second most fondly remembered feature, second only to The Student Prince (1927) and even surpassing He Who Gets Slapped (1924).

Lady of the Night was taken from Adela Rogers St. Johns’ Two Worlds, which focused on the life of two young women from two different worlds, both loving the same man. The film gave Norma the opportunity to play a dual role, which she confessed the tough Molly was her favorite of the two. “I liked playing Molly best,” she recalled. “I decided to slick back my hair and wear a beauty spot and split curls. I had a tight skirt, black silk stockings and heels so high I could barely walk. I tied a red tulle bow around my neck. With my hands on my hips and some chewing gum, I was all set up for business.”

Edwin Schallert, a critic for the Los Angeles Times, confirmed that “the make-up of the dance-hall girl is something new for Miss Shearer, especially as it is rather exaggerated.”

But Norma’s make-up was only one memorable aspect in the production of Lady of the Night.

Today this one is most popular for being the film debut of Lucille LeSueur, later known to Hollywood as Joan Crawford. The coming years of success for Norma seriously ruffled Joan’s feathers, as she felt she was overlooked at Metro Goldwyn Mayer because of Norma’s marriage to Irving Thalberg. This disdain was not helped due to Joan’s role in the film. She was used---without credit---as Norma’s double. “While Norma played the tough girl (full front, close up), I played the Lady (with my back to the camera). When she did the lady, I was the tough girl (with my back to the camera).”

The humiliating task began a life-long resentment of Norma in Joan’s eyes, which Norma later recalled were “the most beautiful eyes. They were the biggest eyes I had ever seen. But they didn’t trust me. I could see that. They never have.”

Norma and Joan Crawford continued to compete for good roles at MGM in the coming years, with their dislike of each other hitting an all-time high when they appeared in The Women (1939) together, their second and last film they would ever made with one another.

Lady of the Night was a critical and commercial success, cementing Norma as MGM’s top box office draw, a position she held until her retirement in 1942. It was the first movie in which she received the all-star treatment, getting solo billing above the rest of the cast in a large font, and getting all of the camera’s attention, stealing the spotlight from such memorable supporting actors as George K. Arthur and Malcolm McGregor.

With this Norma became the first established female movie star of Metro Goldwyn Mayer, which earned her the Queen of the Studio title when she married Irving Thalberg in 1927 and continued on with her top-notch stardom.

He Who Gets Slapped (1924)



Cast:
Lon Chaney ... Paul Beaumont, aka HE
Norma Shearer ... Consuelo
John Gilbert ... Bezano
Tully Marshall ... Count Mancini
Marc McDermott ... Baron Regnard
Ford Sterling ... Tricaud
Harvey Clark ... Briquet
Paulette Duval ... Zinida
Ruth King ... Maria Beaumont
Clyde Cook ... A Clown
Brandon Hurst ... A Clown
George Davis ... A Clown

Directed by Victor Seastrom.
Produced by Irving Thalberg.
Based on the play by Leonid Andreyev.

Cinematography by Milton Moore.
Film Editing by Hugh Wynn.
Art Direction by Cedric Gibbons.
Costume Design by Sophie Wachner.

Released December 22, 1924.
A Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Picture.


Box Office Information
Cost of Production: $172,000
Domestic Gross: $493,000
Forgein Gross: $388,000
Total Gross: $881,000
Profit: $349,000

Background:



Webmaster's Review:

“In the grim comedy of life, it has been wisely said that the last laugh is the best----”

We first see a clown laughing and spinning a ball. It turns into a shot of Paul Beaumont, “an unknown scientist, labored to prove his starling theories on the Origin of Mankind,” in Baron Rengnard‘s home. What Paul doesn’t know is that the Baron---who has allowed Paul to live with him to complete his studies---is less interested in his ideas on the origin of mankind and more interested in sleeping with Paul’s wife, Maria.

Late that night, Maria sneaks into the room where Paul conducts his studies. The Baron is in there, and the two begin to kiss.

Before an Academy of Scientists, the Baron begins to make the speech regarding Paul’s finds. Paul realizes that the Baron is telling the scientists his work, but taking the credit for himself, and runs up onto the stage to call him out in front of everyone. As the members of the Academy look on with interest, the Baron extends his arm, and slaps Paul across the face. Everyone else breaks out into a hysteria, laughing at Paul‘s humiliation.

It’s a mental downfall from there.

Consulting his wife, he is shocked to also hear that she finds him repulsive, and that it is the Baron whom she really loves (talk about having a shitty day). Marie calls him a clown (and a fool), and Paul wonders further into his lab. He repeats what she says, then bursts into an insane laughter. He throws his plans across the room, knocking the globe over, and looses his mind entirely.

It’s a shot of that creepy clown again, which transforms into a long shot of a circus.

“Years had passed,” a title card reads, “Paul Beaumont was forgotten---but the laugh was still his. For the brilliant scientist had, with a supreme gesture of contempt, made himself a common clown.”

Paul has joined a circus near Paris, and has emerged as the star in its most popular act “HE---who gets slapped.” Paul, of course, is HE.

We first meet Bezano, a bareback rider, practicing his riding tricks. He spots a beautiful young girl named Consuelo, who is being flaunted by her father to the manager of the circus. They agree to hire her, and she will appear opposite Bezano in his act.

Marie, toasting a drink with her lover, looks outside of her window, to see a big light-up clown being slapped across the face. “How stupid people are,” she says, “to watch a clown who allows himself to be slapped.” What she doesn’t know is that clown is her ex-husband.

Another shot of that creepy clown spinning the ball again…

Outside of her dressing room, Consuelo tells Bezano about a rich man her father plans to marry her off to. Clearly Bezano loves her, and HE watches the two from a distance, because HE loves her, too. When Bezano leaves, and she sews the heart onto his costume, he is taken in by her beauty and charm (and how beautiful Norma Shearer appears with her hair down).

She tells him how he is becoming a major star, and that---even if he is happy here---he should find something better for himself.

In the audience that night is none other than the Baron, whom Paul recognizes shortly after he begins his act. Though the Baron doesn’t recognize him right away, Paul, trying to call him out, is cut off by the slaps from the other clowns in his act.

Backstage, Consuelo’s father introduces her to the Baron. HE becomes enraged. Not only because he loves her, and this is the second woman he could lose to the Baron, but because of the selfishness behind the introduction. Her father, a miser, is attempting to marry his daughter off to a rich man so he can get the money. To the father’s surprise, however, the Baron tells him that he could never marry a bareback rider (please!).

The next day, Consuelo and Bezano spend an entire day together in a park. They have a picnic, though neither one is hungry, and flirt, laugh, kiss, and chase each other around. After, they confess their love for each other.

Another clown shot, again.

The Baron is manipulated by Consuelo’s father to ask for her hand in marriage. “Think of what a bride she’ll make…” He leaves Maria behind for the younger, more vibrant Consuelo, who has no idea any of this is going on.

Backstage another night, HE confesses his own love for Consuelo. She thinks he is kidding, and slaps him across the face. It’s heartbreaking to watch her burst into laughter, and watch him follow as a nervous response. Under the mask, he’s humiliated, again.

The Baron and Consuelo’s father interrupt. Her father announces the marriage plans, much to Consuelo’s disappointment and shock---and HE’s rage.


HE runs into the room where the Baron and Consuelo’s father are celebrating the announcement. He irritates them just for the hell of it, then begins to give them a real piece of reality. The father pushes him into a room which has an enraged lion in a cage. HE moves the cage door towards the door to the room, and opens it.

The lion claws the two men to death, though before Consuelo’s father is killed, he stabs HE with a sword. The rest of circus discover what has happened, and HE dies in the arms of Consuelo, his one and only love, who is now free to marry Bezano, the love of her life.

Is there a need to write that Lon Chaney is excellent in this movie? I’ve seen only a handful of his work---The Hunchback of Notre Dom (1923), The Monster (1925), The Phantom of the Opera (1925), The Unknown, and The Unholy Three (1930)---but I’ve been in inspired by his dramatic talent and versatility. Aside from the tricks he could pull with a makeup kit, he had dramatic powers which rival that of Marlon Brando and Montgomery Cliff. He wasn’t afraid to be the outcast; the scum of the Earth everyone seems to step on, and it was his acceleration in such roles which made him the top star of his time.

Two scenes with Chaney stand out in particular. The first is the one where he consults his wife after having his one-time friend stab him in the back by introducing Chaney’s ideas, but claiming them as his own. This is followed by the ultimate backstab, Chaney’s finding out that very night that the same “friend” who robbed him of credit has now robbed him of a wife.

Chaney’s second big scene is his revenge. He’s gotten the last laugh, but now has to pay for his own revenge, too. The punishment is the ultimate one, his own life. But unlike McDermott and Tully Marshall (Consuelo’s father), Chaney dies a hero.

Norma Shearer is especially beautiful in this one. It is---aside from The Student Prince (1927)---the ingénue of all the ingénues she ever played. But when that beautiful, thick, curly hair is down beyond shoulder length, she really shows her natural beauty. Her feet, however, appear too large for her body, and she is cross-eyed in the scene where she waits for John Gilbert before their picnic in the park. But her acting is a step up from her previous surviving effort in Lucretia Lombard (1923). Unfortunately, until her movies made between those two titles turn up in some remote archive, this all we have to judge her progress by.

John Gilbert doesn’t have a big role. He is the love interest, and Marc McDermott, as the Baron, has a meatier part which steals the spotlight from Gilbert.

Chaney, Shearer, and McDermott are the stars of He Who Gets Slapped.



Vintage Reviews:

At the Capitol this week there is a picture which defies one to write about it without indulging in superlatives. It is a shadow drama so beautifully told, so flawlessly directed that we imagine that it will be held up as a model by all producers. Throughout its length there is not an instant of ennui, not a second one wants to lose; it held the spectators spellbound yesterday afternoon, the last fade-out being the signal for a hearty round of applause. This celluloid masterpiece is Victor Seastrom's picturization of Leonid Andreyev's play, "He Who Gets Slapped," which was presented before the footlights in January, 1922, with Richard Bennett in the principal rôle.

The more enlightened producers were enthusiastic over Mr. Seastrom's "The Stroke of Midnight," which was at the same time considered too depressing to be a financial success over here. Nevertheless, this and other productions caused the management of Goldwyn Pictures, Ltd., to engage this director to make pictures in California. Mr. Seastrom left his native heath, Sweden, and his first American-made production was Sir Hall Caine's "Name the Man," a lugubrious story filled with anachronisms. A friend of the director predicted at the time that, although he did not like "Name the Man," Mr. Seastrom eventually would turn out a production which would startle the film world.

Undoubtedly the story is half the battle with an accomplished director, and in "He Who Gets Slapped" Mr. Seastrom obviously realized that he had his great opportunity. He selected his cast with punctiliousness, choosing Lon Chancy, who will be remembered for his work in "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" and other films, to play the part of the heart-broken scientist who became a clown. Never in his efforts before the camera has Mr. Chaney delivered such a marvelous performance as he does as this character. He is restrained in his acting, never overdoing the sentimental situations, and is guarded in his make-up.

The first flash on the screen shows a clown twisting a colored ball, which gradually fades out into the figure of Beaumont, the scientist, gazing upon a revolving globe. There are many such clever touches in different chapters of this absorbing narrative which deals with the ultimate revenge of the scientist-clown, merely known as "He Who Gets Slapped," on the man who stole the glory for his work and also his wife. You see the student arguing with Baron Regnard before a gallery of aged notables, and suddenly the nobleman slaps the scientist's face. The old men rock in their mirth, and this, coupled with the loss of his wife, spurs the student to become a clown with a small traveling French circus. As the principal fun-maker, with a score of other painted-face clowns, he is seen making audiences roar with laughter by being slapped. At that time he had no thought of revenge, but one day he sees the Baron in a seat. The sight of what happened to him in front of the scientists comes before his eyes. One sees the clown fading into the gallery of wise old men, and then again the clowns are shown.

There is the dressing room of the circus, and the pretty daughter of an impecunious Count. The girl (Norma Shearer) soon falls in love with her partner in her riding act, Bezano (John Gilbert). The Count wants her to wed the Baron, and the scheming is discovered by He, the clown. He is weak in fistic encounters, so coolly arranges for a terrible death for the Count and the Baron. He loves the girl, Consuelo, too. She had stitched on his dummy heart night after night of the show. You see him move the lion's cage up to the door of the little ante-room, which is all ready for a wine supper. Then he enters himself by another door, and in an encounter with the girl's father heis stabbed by the Count's sword-stick. He grips his breast tightly to stay the flow of blood, and gradually crawls toward the door, which has only to be opened to release the wild beast. There is wonderful suspense in this stretch, and one is stirred when one sees the startled lion spring through the open door.

Mr. Seastrom has directed this dramatic story with all the genius of a Chaplin or a Lubitsch, and he has accomplished more than they have in their respective works, "A Woman of Paris" and "The Marriage Circle," as he had, what they did not have, a stirring, dramatic story to put into pictures.

Miss Shearer is charming as Consuelo, and Mr. Gilbert, who gave such an excellent account of himself in "His Hour," is a sympathetic sweetheart. But the player who is entitled to honors only second to Mr. Chaney is Marc McDermott, who takes full advantage of the strength of his rôle. Tully Marshall is splendid as the scapegrace Count.

For dramatic value and a faultless adaptation of the play, this is the finest production we have yet seen.
Written by Mordaunt Hall. Published November 10, 1924 in the New York Times.