THESE THREE

THESE THREE (1936). Director: William Wyler.

College friends Karen Wright (Merle Oberon) and Martha Dobie (Miriam Hopkins) decide to open a girl's school together. Into their lives comes a handsome doctor, Joe (Joel McCrea), with whom both fall in love. Joe, however, only has eyes for Karen. (A memorable scene has Martha watching him as he sleeps, with the passage of time indicating that she's done this for hours.) This not being a soap opera, Joe and Martha do not get involved and Martha never makes a play for him. Unfortunately, a nasty little girl named Mary (Bonita Granville) implies that the good doctor spent the night in Martha's room, and forces another child (Marcia May Jones) to confirm it. This leads to disastrous complications.

These Three was based on a play by Lillian Hellman called The Children's Hour. It, too, was about the destructiveness of gossip, but the lie was quite different -- that the two women were lovers (It turned out that Martha was a self-hating lesbian). Naturally Hollywood even in the 30's wouldn't tackle such a subject, so it was toned down and changed to alleged pre-marital sex and infidelity. Years later Wyler filmed the play again (as The Children's Hour) with the original story intact. In that version Miriam Hopkins played Martha's Aunt Lily (played by Catherine Doucet in These Three).

Miriam Hopkins and Merle Oberon

Even in its adulterated version These Three is a powerful story, and the film is well directed and very well played by the entire cast. In addition to those already mentioned, Alma Kruger makes an impression as Mary's grandmother, who starts the word-of-mouth campaign against the two women and their school. Margaret Hamilton plays the woman's stern maid, who can see through Mary, and in perhaps the movie's most satisfying scene, gives her a good slap.

Verdict: Superior, thoughtful drama. ***1/2.

THE OLD MAID

THE OLD MAID (1939). Director: Edmund Goulding.

"Don't you know what happens to you means more to me than anything?"

So says young Charlotte Lovell (Bette Davis) to the man she loves, Clem Spender (George Brent), who has come back to town to discover that the woman he loves, Charlotte's cousin Delia (Miriam Hopkins), is that very day marrying someone else. Charlotte consoles Clem, who goes off to war and never returns, leaving Charlotte with a child that she disguises as a civil war orphan. Then Delia, who has a "good" marriage with one of the wealthy Ralston brothers, learns about Charlotte and Clem and is enraged ... with expectedly dramatic results. She eventually takes both mother and illegitimate daughter into her home and usurps the mother position from Charlotte. 

Bette Davis

Yes, this film has some of the elements of soap opera, but it's on a much higher level, and the film is virtually perfect in all departments, from Goulding's direction to Max Steiner's evocative score (which incorporates some old songs but also has original music), to the accomplished acting from the entire cast. This is easily one of Davis' best portrayals, years before she became much too affected and artificial in certain projects. Mariam Hopkins is her match in the more flamboyant if less dramatic role of Delia. Jane Bryan as the daughter, Tina, Donald Crisp as the wise friend and doctor, Cecelia Loftus as the wily old grandmother, and Louise Fazenda as the maid Dora are all superlative, and while he's not entirely successful at showing us the hurt and trauma beneath his light-hearted, sardonic air, even George Brent is solid. Very moving and a genuinely touching finale. A real gem of a tearjerker. Based on a novella by Edith Wharton and a Pulitzer prize-winning play by Zoe Akins. NOTE; This was my late partner, Lawrence J. Quirk's, all-time favorite movie. I was forced to watch it half a dozen times until I grew to love it, too. 

Verdict: Another in the category of 'They don't make 'em like this anymore.' ****.

LADY WITH RED HAIR

LADY WITH RED HAIR (1940). Director: Curtis Bernhardt. 

The "true" if fictionalized story of Caroline (Mrs. Leslie) Carter (Miriam Hopkins), who goes on the stage after she is divorced by her husband. The film suggests that Carter became an actress only to get money to fight for custody of her son, but in real life the boy actually stayed with his mother and was cut out of his father's will because of it. In the film Carter unrealistically tries to storm Broadway by coming in at the top instead of climbing from the bottom, but it is true that her association with David Belasco (a magnificent Claude Rains) gave an inestimable boost to her career. The film doesn't make clear that she was considered the American Sarah Bernhardt in her day. Richard Ainley plays her second husband, and as the film suggests, their marriage did signal the end of her association with Belasco (although in the film he comes in at the end to help guide her in one last production). Miriam Hopkins gives a solid performance, but up against Claude Rains there is little she can do to steal the picture. The supporting cast includes such sterling players as Laura Hope Crews, John Litel, Victor Jory, and Cecil Kellaway. A very young Cornel Wilde has a small role, and you probably won't notice Alexis Smith or Craig Stevens.

 Verdict: A lady you might like to make the acquaintance of -- on film, at least. ***.

BECKY SHARP

Miriam Hopkins and Frances Dee

BECKY SHARP (1935). Director: Rouben Mamoulian.

Becky Sharp (Mariam Hopkins), a charity case in a finishing school, goes off with her wealthy friend Amelia (Frances Dee of I Walked with a Zombie) where she hopes to become affianced to Amelia's portly brother, Joseph (Nigel Bruce). Things don't go quite the way Becky expected, but she advances in society due to her looks, her aggressiveness, and many compliant men, including the Marquis of Sheyne (Cedric Hardwicke) and her husband, Rawdon Crawley (Alan Mowbray), whom she seems to love sincerely. But Becky's scheming may eventually undo her ...

Miriam Hopkins and Alan Mowbray

This version of Thackeray's Vanity Fair, filmed in early Technicolor, is amusing and engaging. Hopkins demonstrates true star quality, although her performance is at times overwrought and overly theatrical, yet she always plays with undeniable passion. It's hard to see Alan Mowbray [Dante], better known as a comic foil than anything else, as a romantic figure, but he is as good as ever, as is Hardwicke. Frances Dee is fine as Amelia, even though her character is allowed no real fireworks even when she thinks her husband is carrying on with Becky. Nigel Bruce offers one of his best portrayals as Joseph, and Alison Skipworth is a riot as Rawdon Crawley's peppery Aunt Julia. Billie Burke has a small role, and Mrs. Leslie Carter is lost in a crowd with no lines. (Five years later Hopkius would play Carter in Lady with Red Hair.) An exciting sequence takes place at a ball when Napoleon arrives at the nearby village of Waterloo.

Verdict: An arresting if uneven performance by Hopkins in an absorbing, fast-paced adaptation of a classic novel. ***. 

SAVAGE INTRUDER

Miriam Hopkins

SAVAGE INTRUDER (aka Hollywood Horror House/1970). Written, produced, and directed by Donald Wolfe.

A maniac is running about murdering and dismembering women and leaving their body parts laying about, such as at the bottom of the hill where the Hollywood sign is located. Meanwhile retired movie star Katherine Packard (Miriam Hopkins), who lives in a fabulous old mansion, gets drunk, falls down the stairs, and winds up in a wheelchair. A very strange male nurse named Vic Valance (John David Garfield) is hired to look after Katherine, but before long they are engaged in what might be termed an inappropriate relationship. This does not sit well with the other women in the household: secretary Leslie (Gale Sondergaard); elderly cook Mildred (Florence Lake): and especially housekeeper Greta (Virginia Wing), who is also sleeping with Valance. Then people begin disappearing ...

(John) David Garfield

Savage Intruder is a seriously perverted version of Sunset Boulevard, with a little Night Must Fall thrown in for good measure. The plot is still workable, but the script could have stood some improvement, and while some scenes are well-handled, others are schlocky, and there are times when the direction gets pseudo-psychedelic and artsy-fartsy. A little gore is thrown in now and then, almost enough to classify this as an early slasher film. One bathroom mutilation murder is a bit reminiscent of the splatter films to come. The film gets points for holding the viewer's attention, and there are some good performances as well.

Gale Sondergaard and Miriam Hopkins

This was the last film role for Hopkins, who died two years later at 69. She seems to be enjoying herself in this, having a laugh at her own excesses, and lustily kissing her paramour, pining for some vodka, and getting drunk at a Christmas parade in Hollywood (where she gets boos for railing about "hoods and queers" ruining Hollywood boulevard). Garfield [The Stepmother], the son of John Garfield, has his moments, but he just doesn't seem ready to take on such a big and difficult role as this; he comes off like a talented amateur where other actors could have really taken off in this part. Virginia Wing was introduced in this film, and she's at least professional, and had a few more credits over the years up until the present day.

Gale Sondergaard investigates

Florence Lake, who was younger than Hopkins but looks older, amassed nearly 200 credits, and was a solid character actress of a certain type. However, the actor who makes the best impression is Gale Sondergaard, who registers her usual authority as Hopkins' stern and efficient secretary, and who eventually becomes quite frightened for her employer. Last but not least we have Joe Besser of Three Stooges fame playing a tour bus driver who takes people past Hopkins' house, actually the Norma Talmadge estate in Hollywood. Hopkins at times seems to be channeling her old rival Bette Davis, but this film did not have anything like the box office of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?

Verdict: Does show how old movie stars often wind up mired in alcohol and really awful people. **1/2. 

MIRIAM HOPKINS: LIFE AND FILMS OF A HOLLYWOOD REBEL

MIRIAM HOPKINS: LIFE AND FILMS OF A HOLLYWOOD REBEL. Allan R. Ellenberger. University Press of Kentucky; 2018.

Miriam Hopkins is long overdue a serious biography, and at last we've got one. Hopkins never quite made the front rank of stardom -- like such ladies as Bette Davis and Joan Crawford -- but she was a highly gifted actress who appeared in many notable films and gave some excellent performances in them. Hopkins first made her mark on Broadway, and like many actors during this period, had some reservations about "going Hollywood." Seen as incredibly sexy in her twenties ( a sexiness that faded out rather early), she was cast in a number of crappy melodramas, such as the terrible 24 Hours, but also did The Smiling Lieutenant with Maurice Chevalier and starred in more than one movie for Ernst Lubitsch. Although she gave an uneven performance as a rape victim in The Story of Temple Drake, the film brought Hopkins a lot of attention, and she was excellent in William Wyler's These Three. (Years later Hopkins also scored in Wyler's remake of this, The Children's Hour, which stuck more closely to the original plot of Lillian Hellman's play.)

Although the media has made (too) much of the alleged "feud" between Bette Davis and Joan Crawford, there was much more of a feud -- if that's what you want to call it -- between Davis and Hopkins. The two appeared together in The Old Maid and Old Acquaintance, and there was decided tension on the set. Hopkins felt sure that Davis had had a fling with Hopkins' then-husband Anatol Litvak, and she was also furious that Davis had played her part in the film version of the stage play Jezebel. Hopkins also infuriated other actors and directors with her scene-stealing and other antics. As Hopkins grew older, she concentrated more on the stage, although she had one of her best roles in another brilliant William Wyler film, The Heiress. Also as she aged, Hopkins never quite understood that she was not really the mega-star that, say, Davis was, and never attracted that kind of obsessive fan attention. This excellent book also examines Hopkins' other films and stage roles; her marriages and many affairs; her adopted son, Michael; behind-the scenes on-set experiences; and Hopkins' relationship with Tennessee Williams during and after her starring in his play Band of Angels; amused by her yet respecting her talent, Williams called her a "magnificent bitch." Well-researched and with plenty of interviews.

Verdict: First-class look at the inimitable Miriam Hopkins. ***1/2. 

24 HOURS (1931)

Kay Francis and Clive Brook

24 HOURS (1931). Director: Marion Gering.

At a party Jim Towner (Clive Brook) turns to his wife, Fanny (Kay Francis), and asks her where things went wrong. Turns out both of them are seeing other people, with Fanny dallying with David (Minor Watson), and Jim fooling around with singer, Rosie Duggan (Miriam Hopkins). Rosie has thrown out her hoodlum husband, Tony (Regis Toomey), and trouble starts when he demands to be let back into her life again. One of the main characters winds up murdering another, with suspicion falling on a third. 24 Hours doesn't work as drama, mystery, or even melodrama, as it seems too long even at a mere 66 minutes. Of the cast Regis Toomey [Shopworn] comes off best, with Wade Boteler [The Green Hornet] also scoring as the doorman Pat, who is Rosie's brother. Clive Brook isn't bad, but he makes a rather dull leading man, and Francis is competent but not given very much to do as his wife. Miriam Hopkins [Lady with Red Hair] get a little more screen time as Rosie, bur her delivery of a couple of torch songs is almost ruined by her voice. Francis and Hopkins, although involved with the same man, don't have a single scene together, stripping the film of its main point of interest. Its stage origins are apparent, although one can't imagine this was ever any world-beater.

Verdict: This positively creaks. Even if you like Francis and Hopkins this is one you can miss. *1/2.

THE CHILDREN'S HOUR

Shirley MacLaine and Audrey Hepburn

THE CHILDREN'S HOUR (1961). Producer/director: William Wyler. Note: some plot points are revealed in this review.

William Wyler had already directed These Three, a sanitized film version of Lillian Hellman's play The Children's Hour, when he decided it was time to tackle the play and its sub-theme head on. Karen Wright (Audrey Hepburn) and Martha Dobie (Shirley MacLaine) co-own a young girls' boarding school in a small but wealthy community. Karen has held off her marriage to Joe Cardin (James Garner of They Only Kill Their Masters) because she wants to make sure the school is a success before she leaves. With the unwitting aid of Karen's miserable Aunt Lily (Miriam Hopkins), a hateful child named Mary (Karen Balkin) tells a malicious lie about the two women. Her grandmother, Amelia Tilford (Fay Bainter), believes the lie and spreads it around that Karen and Martha are lovers, with the result that all of the parents take their daughters out of school. Does Martha have deeper feelings for Karen than she wants to admit? Hellman's play was certainly ahead of its time, and some of the dialogue that may have seemed "politically correct" in the sixties was actually already in the play, produced about thirty years earlier. Martha goes on about people "who believe in it, who want it, who've chosen it for themselves," but this is something she just can't do. (Of course today it's more accurate to say gay people choose to accept themselves.) The dated, but not unrealistic for the period, line is Martha saying "I feel so sick and dirty I just can't stand it anymore," which is roughly equivalent to "Show me a happy homosexual and I'll show you a gay corpse" from The Boys in the Band. However, I've never felt Children's Hour was as offensive as Boys, because the latter is a mostly negative depiction of acknowledged gay characters while the former not only looks at the devastating results of gossip and innuendo but functions, whether intended or not, as a trenchant study of both external and internalized homophobia. These women's lives are ruined simply because people think they're lesbians, a revelation which Martha only acknowledges at the very end. The suicide in the film may strike modern-viewers as horribly dated but it's also quite moving, as is the conflicted character of Martha. John Michael Hayes' [Rear Window] script is excellent, William Wyler's direction is sensitive and splendid, and the acting from virtually the entire cast is simply incredible. Hepburn and MacLaine are perfection, Bainter and Hopkins come close to stealing the show, James Garner (whom I've never much cared for) gives probably the best performance of his career, and the little girls, including Veronica Cartwright as Rosalie, are so good it's almost scary. Add a lovely score by Alex North, fine cinematography by Franz Planer (who also shot Wyler's The Big Country), and expert editing from Robert Swink and you've got a near-masterpiece.

Verdict: Whatever its flaws, this picture plays. ***1/2.

THE STORY OF TEMPLE DRAKE

THE STORY OF TEMPLE DRAKE (1933). Director: Stephen Roberts.

"If I was the old judge I'd marry her off quick!"

This first film version of William Faulkner's "Sanctuary" concerns the flighty young lady Temple Drake (Miriam Hopkins), granddaughter of a judge, who goes out one night with drunken Toddy (William Collier Jr.) and winds up in a dilapidated house occupied by a gang of bootleggers. Although the young and somewhat "slow" Tommy (James Eagles) tries to protect her, she is raped by the brutish if slick "Trigger" (Jack La Rue) after he murders Tommy. A frightened and ashamed Temple goes off with Trigger, and her close friend Stephen (William Gargan) winds up defending Trigger's associate Lee (Irving Pichel) on the charge of murdering Tommy. Can he convince Temple to not think of herself and her reputation and testify as to Lee's innocence? The Story of Temple Drake has little to do with Faulkner's original story -- the ending is completely changed -- but it is well-directed for the most part and features competent (if never outstanding) performances. Hopkins has her moments but is uneven, possibly due to her role. Florence Eldridge plays Lee's wife, and there are appearances by Elizabeth Patterson and Grady Sutton. Photographed by Karl Struss, who has one scene in complete darkness except for the lighted tip of Trigger's cigarette. Remade in 1961 as Sanctuary.

Verdict: Rather unpleasant all told. **1/2.

OLD ACQUAINTANCE

Millie (Hopkins) and Kit (Davis) have a disagreement

OLD ACQUAINTANCE (1943). Director: Vincent Sherman.

"There's a certain ecstasy in wanting things you know you can't get." -- Kit

"It's late -- and I'm very tired of youth and love and self-sacrifice." -- Kit

"I'm sure if she was a man she wouldn't have shaved!" -- Millie

Katherine "Kit" Marlowe (Bette Davis), who has a written a well-received if slack-selling literary novel, comes to visit her very dear old friend Millie Drake (Miriam Hopkins), who not only tells her that she and her husband Preston (John  Loder) are expecting a baby, but that she, too, has written a novel, a romantic potboiler that she is sure will become a bestseller. She's right, and several years and many books later. the Drakes are visiting New York even as Kit is awaiting the opening night of her first play. Millie does little to deal with the fact that her husband is in her shadow, and she doesn't even notice that he's fallen in love with Kit -- and vice versa. But Kit decides that sometimes a sacrifice has to be made in the name of friendship, but will Millie ever appreciate what she has done? Old Acquaintance is well-acted, entertaining, and often very funny in its tale of the self-absorbed if likable Millie and her more sensitive and understanding best friend, and it has some fine dialogue. John Loder could often be dismissed as a cinematic lightweight, but he's perfectly cast in this and has some very decent moments. Gig Young makes an impression in one of his earliest roles as one of Kit's beaus, and Delores Moran is quite pretty and competent as Millie's grown up daughter, Deirdre. Anne Revere and Esther Dale are notable in interesting supporting parts as, respectively, a reporter who speaks too freely, and a maid who knows her own mind and isn't afraid to speak it. A very amusing scene has the two friends having a confrontation, with Kit finally giving in and shaking the life out of her irritating buddy. Old Acquaintance is by no means perfect -- it's probably more soap opera than [comedy-]drama -- but for most of its length, it works. The two lead actresses are both excellent, although the ever-affected Davis sometimes comes off like a drag queen doing a Davis impersonation! This was remade years later as Rich and Famous, which, if I recall correctly, was pretty terrible.


Verdict: This is no Old Maid -- which also starred Davis and Hopkins-- but it is fun and fast-paced. ***

BARBARY COAST

Robinson and Hopkins

BARBARY COAST (1935) Director: Howard Hawks.

Mary Rutledge (Miriam Hopkins), known as "Swan," arrives in San Francisco during the gold rush, fully expecting to find a fiancee and a million bucks waiting for her. Instead she winds up at a crooked roulette wheel in a casino-saloon owned by Luis Chamalis (Edward G. Robinson). Chamalis is a racketeer who runs the town with the aid of killer Knuckles (Brian Donlevy), who's fond of shooting people in the back. Swan becomes rather hardened by her life and Chamalis' persistent and unwelcome wooing of her, but she's softened a bit by an attractive and kindly young prospector, Jim (Joel McCrae), but their next encounter is quite unpleasant ... Hopkins and Robinson make an interesting team -- more interesting than Hopkins and McCrea -- but that's not enough to save this picture, whose basically light tone is at odds with the grim subject matter. Despite some good performances from the leads and the supporting cast -- Frank Craven (In This Our Life) as a colonel who starts a newspaper is especially noteworthy -- the movie is a mediocre mish mash, and not one of Robinson's better pictures. Walter Brennan offers another of his bizarre portraits as the cackling "Old Atrocity."

Verdict: Begins promisingly but goes in too many dull directions. **1/2.

CARRIE (1952)

CARRIE (1952). Director: William Wyler.

"When you're poor it gets all mixed up; you like the people who are good to you."

Carrie Meeber (Jennifer Jones) says goodbye to her family and takes the train to Chicago, where she hopes to find a better life. What she finds is one man, Charles (Eddie Albert), who takes care of her but is slow to offer marriage, and another man, George (Laurence Olivier), a restaurant manager, who wants to marry her but already has a wife (Miriam Hopkins). Still, he takes steps to have Carrie for his own, leading inexorably to bitter disillusionment and tragedy. This is not a mere soap opera but a fascinating, mesmerizing drama with superb performances from all. Olivier's portrait of the manager who gives up everything for passion is brilliant and haunting. Jones gives one of her all-time best performances, right up there with Olivier from start to finish. David Raksin offers an interesting score, while Wyler's direction is as assured and compelling as ever. From the chilling early scenes showing Carrie at work in a dehumanizing sweatbox to the final devastating, deeply affecting moments, this is pure gold.

Verdict: Powerful adaptation of Drieser's Sister Carrie. ****.

THE OUTCASTS OF POKER FLAT (1952)

THE OUTCASTS OF POKER FLAT (1952). Director: Joseph M. Newman.

The film begins with a tense, well-executed bank robbery in the town of Poker Flats, but then goes downhill from there. This is the third of several film versions of Bret Harte's famous short story, and is a very loose adaptation. After the robbery the town decides to turn loose certain immoral elements and several people are told to get out or be hanged. A gambler, John Oakhurst (Dale Robertson) suggests they go to a cabin he knows of; they are joined by a young couple about to have a baby. Not only is there a storm on the way and no food, but along comes bank robber Ryker (Cameron Mitchell) looking for his wife Cal (Anne Baxter), who's developed a tender feeling for Oakhurst. Miriam Hopkins is apparently the town's madam. What might have been developed as a strong drama turns into a mediocre melodrama that wastes most of its cast. The main problem is that the characters aren't developed enough for us to give a hoot about them. Generally well-acted, although Robertson is a bit of a lightweight compared to the others.

Verdict: Lost in a snow storm all right. **.

THE HEIRESS

THE HEIRESS (1949). Director: William Wyler.

"Yes, I can be very cruel. I have been taught by masters."

In Washington Square in turn of the century New York, Catherine Sloper (Olivia de Havilland) falls for a fortune hunter, Morris Townsend (Montgomery Clift) over the objections of her wealthy doctor father, Austin (Ralph Richardson). On that framework rests one of the finest films to come out of Hollywood, based loosely on Henry James' Washington Square. It's theme can be summed up in the words of the French song incorporated into the score by Aaron Copland, and which are sung at one point by Clift, to the effect that the joys of love are short but that love's pain lasts a lifetime. Along with pathos, the film has a degree of humor, evidenced by the character of Catherine's Aunt Lavinia (an outstanding Miriam Hopkins) who says "What I say isn't always of the greatest importance but that doesn't stop me from talking." [Much later an ill Austin says of his sister "I don't want [her] in my room at all -- unless I lapse into a coma."] Richardson's performance is simply superb. Clift is wise enough to play with an admirable sincerity that might make first-time viewers wonder if he really does have feelings for Catherine. A lesser actor would have figuratively winked at the audience, letting them in on the game. Although she won an Oscar and is, indeed, very good, de Havilland is, perhaps, a cut below the other three. Her performance is the one that seems most "manufactured" or calculated, a feat of acting -- and very good acting -- as opposed to living the part. In the scene when Catherine finally confronts her father, we can believe her anger and that she would say the things she does, but anger doesn't automatically instill poise in a person, and Catherine, as enacted by de Havilland, suddenly becomes much too confident and formidable. The words should rush out even as Catherine can't quite believe that she is actually saying them to her father. Still, de Havilland has lovely moments, such as when she sits at her tapestry as Morris and Lavinia talk at the door, a dozen different emotions about this man she both loves and hates playing across her face. Wyler's directorial hand is assured, and Copland's score, despite its dissonances and 1940's-style modernity, is simply drenched in a wonderful romanticism.

Verdict: A masterpiece with one of the all-time great endings. ****