THAT HAGEN GIRL

THAT HAGEN GIRL (1947). Director: Peter Godfrey.

"Well, what are we going to talk about now?"

A middle-aged couple, Minta and Jim Hagen (Dorothy Peterson and Charles Kemper), come back to town carrying a baby about the same time as a scandal erupts over a disturbed young lady, Grace Gateley (Kyle [sic] MacDonnell) and her boyfriend Tom Bates (Ronald Reagan). Somehow the whole town gets it into its head that the Hagen baby is actually the child of Grace and Tom, with the result that that child, Mary Hagen (Shirley Temple), has had to put up with odd looks, remarks, and a discriminatory attitude towards her all of her life. When Tom comes back to town, Mary decides to find out if he actually is her father or not. Meanwhile, Mary discovers that while her boyfriend, Ken (Rory Calhoun) wants to marry her, his disapproving old bitch of a mother (Nella Walker) has other ideas. That Hagen Girl is a study of small-town narrow-minded attitudes and is very good at getting across the astute point that men gossip just as much as women do. The problem with the movie is that the two leads, Temple and Reagan, while competent, are so weak that the picture never recovers from the miscasting. Temple plays the entire movie in the key of "pout," while Reagan is simply mediocre, as he was in Kings Row. Calhoun [Night of the Lepus] is handsome, if a little odd-looking; Penny Edwards [Feudin; Fussin', and A'Fightin'] is effective as another gal interested in Calhoun; Lois Maxwell [yes, "Miss Moneypenny" of James Bond fame, but without her British accent] is nice as the sympathetic teacher, Julia Kane; and Kathryn Card, Lucy's mother on I Love Lucy, is fun as the termagant school board member who catches Mary being bussed by horny Dewey Koons (Conrad Janis). Franz Waxman's opening theme is lovely, but the movie that follows the credits is quite disappointing.

Verdict: Excellent premise but this never amounts to what it could have. **.

LILLIAN RUSSELL

Alice Faye as Lillian Russell

LILLIAN RUSSELL (1940). Director: Irving Cummings.

A young lady with singing talent reinvents herself as "Lillian Russell" to hide the fact that she's on the stage from her mother (Dorothy Peterson), but mama always knows. Like her mother, Lillian is an early feminist as well as a major theatrical performer with thousands of fans and a host of suitors, including Diamond Jim Brady (Edward Arnold) and "J. L." (Warren William of Dr. Monica), but she marries composer Edward Solomon (Don Ameche). Their marriage ends in tragedy, but waiting in the wings is reporter turned newspaper publisher Alexander Moore (Henry Fonda). Russell was actually married four times, and Solomon didn't die as in the movie, but turned out to be a (perhaps inadvertent) bigamist. As Faye herself noted, in this handsomely-produced (but oddly, black and white) movie, nobody ever ages no matter how many decades go by. Although Faye's singing voice could best be described as "pleasant" (and a little too deep at times), she gives a very good performance as Russell, wisely underplaying many of her more emotional scenes. Arnold is excellent in his portrait of the happy go lucky but broken-hearted Brady, and there are good turns from Ameche and William; Helen Westley [Million Dollar Baby] as Grandma Leonard; Joseph Cawthorn as vocal coach Leopold Damrosch; Ernest Truex as Lillian's father (who in real life was actually separated from his wife); and Nigel Bruce as William Gilbert (of Gilbert and Sullivan fame). Aside from the many musical highlights, there is grandma's recounting of a romantic story involving a mystery gift she once received, and a well-played scene between Arnold and William talking about their feelings toward Lillian. Henry Fonda [The Long Night], who usually leaves me cold, is quite good in this, although this was not an assignment he coveted. Old-time vaudevillians Joe Weber and Lew Fields, playing themselves, almost stop the movie dead with their long comedy routine, but as they happen to be very funny it doesn't matter. Eddie Foy Jr. plays his dad in a brief bit.

Verdict: Despite some inaccuracies, this is a highly entertaining and well-acted biopic. ***1/2.

DARK VICTORY

Bette Davis and George Brent

DARK VICTORY (1939). Director: Edmund Goulding.

"You might fold up and I might fold up, but that horse has the breeding."

An outstanding performance by Bette Davis is the cornerstone of this tearjerker that deals with a dying wealthy woman who falls in love with her doctor. Judith Traherne (Davis) has headaches and vision problems, and is afraid to see anyone about it. Finally her family physician (Henry Travers) arranges for her to be examined by Dr. Fred Steele (George Brent), whose initial diagnosis is glioma [this is not a phony Hollywood word but is actually a general term for any tumor in the brain that arises in the supporting tissue]. Steele performs surgery on Judith, but learns that her illness will reoccur and there is nothing to be done to prevent her eventual death. A happy, unknowing Judith goes on planning her life while her doctors and secretary/best friend Ann (Geraldine Fitzgerald) try to keep the truth from her ... Dark Victory is what's known as a "well-mounted soaper" and it is graced by Davis in one of her best performances, a lovely Fitzgerald, and even Brent delivers with perhaps more sensitivity than usual. Ernest Haller's photography is also excellent. But like most soap operas, Dark Victory is terribly contrived at times, and its look at terminal illness is almost offensively stupid -- like most movies that treated the subject at this time, the sick person looks more beautiful the closer they come to dying, which is completely absurd. (Davis does look beautiful in the movie, however.) One of the stupider moments has Steele, without the slightest prelude, telling a terrified patient, Judith, "We have to operate!" just so the scene can be more dramatic. The whole business of Judith looking and feeling absolutely normal until just before her death is also ludicrous, but it means Davis can wear some striking evening wear throughout the movie. Humphrey Bogart isn't bad as the Traherne's horse trainer, and has one very interesting scene when he comes on to Judith in the stable. Ronald Regan makes virtually no impression as one of Judith's friends, but Dorothy Peterson as the nurse Miss Wainwright, and Virginia Brissac as the maid Martha, are more on the mark. "Give Me Time for Tenderness" is warbled -- and very nicely -- by Vera Van in a nightclub scene (although some sources say it was Mary Currier, who may have acted the part and been dubbed). One must assume Dr. Steele is rich because he seems to spend months doing nothing but attending to Judith (or else he gives her a mighty big bill). Dark Victory is very well directed by Edmund Goulding, who guided Davis to do some of her best work in pictures, The Old Maid being a case in point. Goulding also directed Davis and Brent in The Great Lie. This was remade 26 years later as Stolen Hours aka Summer Flight starring Susan Hayward.

Verdict: Yes, a "well-mounted soaper" with a splendid Davis. ***.

PURSUIT

PURSUIT (1935). Director: Edwin L.Marin.

A mean old aunt wants to take a little boy away from his mother (Dorothy Peterson), so a man named Mitch (Chester Morris) is hired to spirit the kid away to Mexico. Involved in the action are a pretty gal (Sally Eilers) who teams up/clashes with Mitch, cops, gangsters, farmers and others who hope to claim the $20,000 reward for the return of the child. All of them take a back seat to the kid, as he is played by the talented and adorable Scotty Beckett (pictured) who positively steals the picture away from everyone else. The picture is very minor but it pulls one along, starting with the scene with a runaway plane wherein Mitch rescues the frightened boy who accidentally hit the gas pedal, until it runs out of steam somewhere along the way. There's a pregnant pooch, and an unfazed Beckett has to pretend to be a girl at one point. A lot of cute moments if little else.

Verdict: There have been worse. **.

CHEERS FOR MISS BISHOP

CHEERS FOR MISS BISHOP (1941). Director: Tay Garnett.

Ella Bishop (Martha Scott) graduates from a small town college and becomes a teacher there. Chances for love pass her by as the years roll on. This may sound like a dull, sappy movie, but it's actually an engrossing, warmly sentimental drama about small-town life and values, but it doesn't have a puritanical streak: at one point Miss Bishop becomes involved with a married man (Sidney Blackmer) whose wife refuses to divorce him. Donald Douglas plays Del, the man she nearly marries before her bitchy cousin Amy (Mary Anderson) steals him away, and William Gargan is the loyal Sam, who probably loves her better than anybody. There are memorable performances from the aforementioned as well as Edmund Gwenn, as president of Midwestern, Dorothy Peterson as Ella's mother, Rosemary DeCamp as Minna, Marsha Hunt as Amy's daughter, and the always-odd Sterling Holloway as the campus janitor. Martha Scott offers a simply outstanding performance as Ella; she's on top of the part whether she's playing the young student or the old lady retiring at seventy.

Verdict: A lovely movie. ****.

CONFESSION

CONFESSION (1937). Director: Joe May.

A young music student, Lisa (Jane Bryan), is pursued by an older, famous --and somewhat seedy -- concert pianist and composer named Michael Michailov (Basil Rathbone). The two are at a nightclub one night when the singer stares at them, faints, and a little while later pursues them with a gun and shoots Michailov to death. This is just the beginning of Confession, a rather grand melodrama and mother-love soap opera that features an excellent performance from Kay Francis as opera star Vera Kowalska. On trial for murdering Michailov, Vera at first refuses to defend herself, but then reveals (in flashbacks) what led up to the murder and her motives for committing it. Absorbing, with fluid camera work, vivid musical backgrounds, and expert performances, Confession is one of Francis' best starring vehicles and she rises to the challenge in every scene. With his acting and star charisma Rathbone makes you forget that he doesn't exactly look like Tyrone Power. Bryan offers another lovely performance as Lisa, and there are many other notable supporting players. Laura Hope Crews plays a lively, likable variation on her Prudance from Camille, and even Veda Ann Borg is memorable as Xenia, a singer who's jealous of Vera. Donald Crisp and Dorothy Peterson are solid, as always, as the judge and Lisa's mother. Once you adjust your thinking to the film's somewhat outdated moral codes, it becomes poignant and effective. NOTE: This was a remake of the German film Mazurka.

Verdict: Possibly Kay's finest hour and a half! ***1/2.

PAYMENT DEFERRED

PAYMENT DEFERRED (1932) Director: Lothar Mendes.

In spite of a couple of missteps, Charles Laughton (pictured) gives an excellent performance as a bank clerk struggling with debt who commits a murder to achieve financial relief – only the good fortune brings as many problems as it solves. Dorothy Peterson and Maureen O'Sullivan are also excellent as Laughton's wife and daughter, and there is some fine work from Verree Teasdale as a shady lady Laughton dallies with to his regret, and Ray Milland as the young victim. Mendes adds some Hitchcock-like visual touches to the picture, including the splendid moment when Laughton gives his wealthy nephew (Milland) a drink spiked with poison: the camera remains fixed on Laughton, who is marvelous, as his hand shakes so violently that he spills his own drink all over himself. The film is interesting and absorbing but it does have some problems, including an unnecessary prologue showing a man buying the house where the murder occurred. During a scene that takes place the morning after the murder, Peterson and O'Sullivan seem to have forgotten that they're facing the threat of the poor house [they are unaware of what Daddy has done], and the post-revelation scenes don't really ring true. The victim is completely forgotten without a word expressed even by Peterson as to the tragedy of his early demise. Otherwise, this is a memorable look at a mind tortured by guilt and anxiety.

Verdict: Worth a look. ***.