EX-LADY

Bette Davis and Gene Raymond

EX-LADY (1933). Director: Robert Florey.

Commercial artist Helen Bauer (Bette Davis of Deception) doesn't like the idea of marriage even if her boyfriend is Don Peterson (Gene Raymond of Hit the Deck), the handsome head of a small advertising agency. Nevertheless, after some hesitation the two decide to get hitched, only Helen is convinced that this has spoiled things, only creating jealousy and hurt feelings. They decide to live separately and make dates, even with other people. Don dallies with Peggy (Kay Strozzi), who is married to a man who makes boilers, while Helen goes out with the oily Nick  Malvyn (Monroe Owsley of The Keyhole). But will this arrangement really work in the long run?

Bette Davis and Monroe Owsley

Ex-Lady is an odd pre-code movie that tries to be daring but amounts to very little, daring or otherwise. The only really good points are the performances of Davis and Raymond, who are attractive and charming and play very well together. Helen seems like a confused woman who doesn't know what she wants, and she isn't much addicted to logic. She seems to believe that only a wife can be jealous, but there are many girlfriends and fiancees who would beg to differ. When she and Don choose to have (rather chaste) "affairs," their partners are not nearly as attractive as they are. Frank McHugh plays a poetic urbane type instead of his usual schnook, and although he doesn't quite pull it off, he does suggest that he could have had success with a wider variety of roles.

uncredited opera singer 

At least there are a couple of snappy musical numbers, one playing on the radio at Nick's apartment and the other performed by a group with a dancer in a Havana nightclub. This scene ends with Helen and Don, on their honeymoon, collapsing out of frame into a chair as the dancer sways seductively at the top of the frame. And we mustn't forget the uncredited woman who sings a bit of opera at a party. Although I believe the audience is supposed to think she's awful, she actually doesn't have a bad voice. All in all, despite the welcome touches of early feminist attitudes, this is just another unmemorable early Bette Davis movie, the kind that almost sank her career before it really got started.

Verdict: Bette is always interesting; the picture less so. **. 

TORCH SINGER

TORCH SINGER (1933). Director: Alexander Hall [with George Somnes].

"Why couldn't you have been a boy? The world's such a tough place for a girl to come to."

Sally Trent (Claudette Colbert), who had to give up her illegitimate baby girl for adoption, is a notorious torch singer who causes one scandal after another, but she is also known as "Aunt Jenny" (under the name Mimi Benton), the much-beloved singing hostess of a radio show for kiddies! Sally hopes to use the program to somehow reconnect with her little girl. Ricardo Cortez is Sally's producer and David Manners is the father of her baby. Baby Leroy [The Old-Fashioned Way] is in the cast (and gets high billing) as the baby of Sally's friend early in the picture, but the adorable little tyke hardly gets any scenes -- for shame! Colbert, obviously having a lot of fun, is swell in this picture; she can't sing to save her life but puts over her song numbers in spite of it. Mildred Washington is a delight as Carrie, Sally's sassy maid, and there's a nice bit from a little black child actress -- whom Sally hopes is her daughter until she sees her and realizes it isn't --  who is uncredited. It would have been nice to see the reaction of the sponsors when they finally discover who "Aunt Sally" really is, but we never do. 

Verdict: Completely contrived but very entertaining with Colbert in fine fettle. ***.

SEARCH FOR BEAUTY

Ida Lupino and "Buster" Crabbe

SEARCH FOR BEAUTY  (1934). Director: Erle C. Kenton.

"Baby, come to Mama!"

Larry Williams (Robert Armstrong) and Dan Healy (James Gleason), with the help of Jean Strange (Gertrude Michael), try a new con by putting out a "health" magazine and hiring above-board Olympic winners (Ida Lupino and "Buster" Crabbe) as editors to make it all look legitimate. Before long the editors are clashing with the publishers, who confuse a fitness mag with something a little bit racier. There's a search for perfect male and female physical specimens to work at a health farm, where Williams and company find they must adhere to the strict regimen along with all of the other guests even though they'd rather drink and watch pretty gals dancing on tables. The film is ful of risque dialogue and attractive performers -- and the lead actors are all swell -- but this pre-code movie ultimately doesn't amount to much.

Verdict: If only there were more solid laughs and a better story. **.

HOT SATURDAY

Randolph Scott and Nancy Carroll

HOT SATURDAY (1932). Director: William A. Seiter.

Ruth Brock (Nancy Carroll) works in a bank and has several suitors, but her troubles begin when she goes to a party at the estate of wealthy Romer Sheffield (Cary Grant) and rumors spread about her allegedly spending the night with him. But can she find true love with old family friend, Bill (Randolph Scott of Go West, Young Man), or will those pesky rumors get to him, too? The ending is a little unexpected but not entirely satisfying, as she chooses a man who has already proven to be a heel and doesn't give another guy much of a chance (and has pretty much used him in the first place). With her flat, broad face and cartoon lips, Carroll is an unlikely sex symbol, but her performance is quite good. Cary Grant is excellent, and Scott is okay if not quite in the same league. Grady Sutton [The Bank Dick] and Jane Darwell [The Loves of Edgar Allan Poe] are fine in supporting roles. The pre-code Hot Saturday tries hard to be risque and daring, but it comes off more as confused, and is too short to do justice to its story line and characters.

Verdict: A movie about the private lives of Grant and Scott would probably have been more entertaining. **1/2.

MERRILY WE GO TO HELL

MERRILY WE GO TO HELL (1932). Director: Dorothy Arzner.

Heavy drinking reporter Jerry Corbett (Fredric March) falls for the lovely and unspoiled heiress Joan Prentice (Sylvia Sidney) and the two are married, despite her father's (George Irving) concerns. Jerry had been carrying a torch for an actress named Claire (Adrianne Allen) and when she gets the lead in a play he's written, Jerry becomes her lover and the two have drinking parties nearly every night. [Of course later on Jerry blames Claire for all of this.] Joan decides to be sophisticated and have an "open" marriage, but it just isn't in her. Can this marriage be saved? By the end of this creaky movie -- despite the endless parties and supposed free love philosophy -- you may not care. Most of the characters are unpleasant, and you wish Joan had a little more gumption. March, Irving and especially Sidney give fine performances, but this now-dated pre-code movie is not that memorable.

Verdict: Hell might be more interesting than this. **.

BABY FACE

BABY FACE (1933). Director: Alfred E. Green.

"Where would I go -- Paris? I got four bucks!"

"Are you really thinking or just pretending to?"

Lily Powers (Barbara Stanwyck) works in her unpleasant father's speakeasy, but an old customer named Adolph (Alphonse Ethier), suggests she take a cue from Nietzsche, of all people, and use men the way they all want to use her. So Lily takes off with her maid Chico (Theresa Harris), goes to the big city, and makes her way onward and upward through a bank by basically sleeping with one man after another [ not exactly what feminists today would consider female empowerment]. After casting aside both Ned Stevens (Donald Cook), who is engaged to Ann (Margaret Lindsay), as well as Ann's father (Henry Kolker), the now-notorious Lily has to deal with new president Courtland Trenholm (George Brent) -- and deal with him she does. Stanwyck is fine in a role that seems more tailored for Joan Crawford, Brent is satisfactory, and even John Wayne has a small role as another of Lily's early conquests. The main problem with the movie is that the characters are one-dimensional, and despite this being a "pre-code" movie, it's all rather dated; the ending may be unconvincing for many viewers as well. Still, it holds the attention.

Verdict: Stanwyck in man-eating mode. **1/2.

THE CHEAT

Tallulah Bankhead

THE CHEAT (1931). Director: George Abbott.

"If you're trying to appeal to my better nature, it's hopeless, for I haven't any."

Elsa Carlyle (Tallulah Bankhead) and her husband Jeffrey (Harvey Stephens) are feeling a financial pinch when Elsa makes matters worse by losing a bundle at cards. She compounds this error by making a very unsound investment. The oily Hardy Livingstone (Irving Pichel), a wealthy man who collects women like literal trophies, offers Elsa his help -- but at a price she isn't willing to pay, leading to melodramatic complications and a climactic courtroom scene. Except for her overacting at the finale, Bankhead is quite good, and while hardly a raving beauty, one can imagine she never lacked for dates. Stephens is adequate and Pichel is fine, although the movie might have had more of an edge -- and given Elsa more of a moral dilemma -- had Hardy been played by a sexier actor one could believe she was attracted to. The picture is minor but holds the attention and Bankhead is basically swell and appealing. Pichel was later the villain in the serial Dick Tracy's G-Men and directed many films, including The Most Dangerous Game (co-director) and Quicksand. Bankhead later appeared in everything from Hitchcock's Lifeboat to Die, Die, My Darling to the TV series' Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour and Batman.

Verdict: Creaky old pre-code melodrama enlivened by Bankhead. **1/2.