John Ford Retrospective - Flesh (1932)

FLESH (1932)

Starring:  Wallace Beery, Ricardo Cortez, Karen Morley, Jean Hersholt, John Miljan, Herman Bing, Vince Barnett, Greta Meyer, Edward Brophy

Writers:  Leonard Praskins & Edgar Allan Woolf, based on a story by Edmund Goulding; dialogue by Moss Hart

Cinematography:  Arthur Edeson

Editing:  William S. Gray

Music:  Alfred Newman

B&W, 1h 36m.  1.37:1 presentation.

Released on:  December 8, 1932 by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer

My experience:  Warner Archive Collection DVD-Rom

Against expectations, I found myself captivated by Flesh.  I knew it was a lesser John Ford release, and was thus not expecting too much from it; it is quite stage-set, but the actors and story were quite compelling.

We begin our tale in Germany, where American Laura Nash (Karen Morley) has just gotten released from prison, due to her being pregnant.  It appears she and her man, Nicky Grant (Ricardo Cortez), were left holding the bag after a theft gone wrong.  She agrees to wait in Germany until Nicky gets his walking papers.  Problem is, she knows nobody and has nowhere to go.  In desperation and hunger, she goes to a biergarten where she is unable to pay for her meal, where the waiter (Vince Barnett) and maitre d' (Herman Bing) threaten her with calling the cops.  This is overheard by Polakai (Wallace Beery), who both wrestles in the place for entertainment purposes and brings kegs of beer to the patrons of the establishment.  He pays for Laura's dinner and offers her a place to stay for the evening.  

Laura engages in a little subterfuge, claiming Nicky is her brother and that she is waiting for him to be released from prison.  Polakai decides to spring the guy himself, using a stash of money he has hidden in order to bribe the officials to look the other way.  Once released, Nicky convinces Laura to cozy up to Polakai and marry him, convincing the sucker the baby is his until she can get all his money and abscond with the funds.  By this point in the story it is obvious the beefy wrestler is besotted with the willowy American, as shown by his enlisting landlord Mr. & Mrs. Herman (Jean Hersholt & Greta Meyer) in trying to capture the young lady's affections.

A year later, Polakai and Laura are married and on their way to America, where he believes he can earn more money for his family.  Trouble is, not only is Nicky in America and quickly comes back into their lives, the world of wrestling is completely different than it is in Germany, and Polakai's honour and pride are quickly slapped down by an industry that prefers matches to be rigged.  Laura has developed respect for her husband by this point, and is not totally at ease with Nicky's re-entry into their lives, especially when he takes it upon himself to become Polakai's manager, bringing him into the stable of Joe Willard (John Miljan), a thinly-veiled gangster and bookie who, with the help of henchman/referee Dolan (Edward Brophy), attempt to put Polakai in his place.  Things come to a head when the gentle German realizes he's been cuckolded on both fronts.

I've never understood the popularity of Wallace Beery.  For most of the 1930s and even into the 1940s he was among the top moneymakers at the box office.  Perhaps this is because it was a different time, but I've just never been able to see it.  To me, in every movie I've seen him in, he's always been blustering, braggadocious and frankly unlikeable.  Perhaps I've been projecting what I've read and heard about him, which is that he was frankly not a very nice individual and would go out of his way to make his co-workers' lives more difficult.  In this movie, however, he was quite engaging.  I completely believed him as a gentle soul trapped in the body of a brute, and the little things he did while acting really helped sell this.  I may have to revisit some of his films at some point and see whether I've judged his acting too harshly.

Beery is ably assisted by his costar, Karen Morley, who delivers an incredibly realistic portrayal of a woman trapped in circumstances beyond her making; she makes you understand her thinking, and her changes of mind and points of view, and really lets the viewer into the mindset of her character.  A fantastic acting performance that frankly seems twenty years ahead of its time.  Ricardo Cortez is slightly less strong, but his brash attitude and charisma more than make up for it.  

For this film, John Ford reins in his broad strokes in favour of some subtler attention to detail.  For sure, we have the comic relief at the beginning of the film with the waiters and Laura arguing over the bill, but it only truly becomes hilarious if you're familiar with the German language, as much of the first fifteen or twenty minutes set in the biergarten is performed as if it were captured in situ.  

No, for this film Ford decided to focus on the little things that, due to his choices in direction and camerawork, say so much more than words ever could.  For instance, there is a scene right after Polakai springs Nicky from prison, and he sits them down at a table and starts to serve them some beer, gabbing all the time about how happy he is that they're reunited, and how much he loves Laura and by extension, her "brother".  All the while, the camera remains firmly focused on the gaze between the two lovers-cum-"siblings", with an oblivious Polakai behind them only seen from the chest down, just a pair of hands meeting their needs.  Another scene focuses on the nervous rubbing of hands -- Polakai's and Laura's -- as they discuss their future; his because he's completely smitten like a schoolboy, and hers because she's afraid of being found out.

Flesh really snuck up on me.  I wasn't expecting much from a film from whose credits John Ford removed his name, but I found it to be a thoroughly engaging character study of the type he didn't often indulge in.  Definitely worth seeking out.

Eight generous grapplers out of ten.

John Ford Retrospective - Air Mail (1932)

AIR MAIL (1932)

Starring:  Ralph Bellamy, Gloria Stuart, Pat O'Brien, Slim Summerville, Lilian Bond, Russell Hopton, David Landau, Leslie Fenton, Frank Albertson, Hans Fuerberg, Tom Carrigan, William Daly

Writers:  Frank Wead & Dale Van Every

Cinematography:  Karl Freund

Editor:  Harry W. Lieb

Music:  Gilbert Kurland

B&W, 1h 24m.  1.37:1 presentation.

Released on:  November 3, 1932 by Universal Pictures.

My experience:  YouTube

Following on the heels of the lofty but ultimately not wholly successful ambitions of Arrowsmith in the John Ford filmography comes Air Mail, a quintessential budget programmer from the early 1930s, with a solid cast, a couple of sets, some well done (for the time) visual effects sequences, and a generous dose of masculine camaraderie, infused throughout with a genuine lightheartedness by the staging and editing of John Ford, who no doubt was grateful to be free of the shackles of responsibility and stuffiness of the preceeding, more austere sensibilities of Arrowsmith.

A young-looking Ralph Bellamy, who was all of 28 years old at this time, plays Mike Miller, the manager and lead pilot of a US air mail waystation somewhere presumably in the Rockies, who is having problems renewing his pilots' licence as his sight is getting worse.  When Joe Barnes (an uncredited Ward Bond), one of his pilots, is killed in a crash, he's left not only without a pilot, but with a grieving girlfriend, Joe's sister Ruth (Gloria Stuart, 65 years before her Oscar-nominated role in James Cameron's Titanic).  Enter Duke Talbot (Pat O'Brien), a sarcastic ne'er do well with a glorious flying record and a not-too-comfy past with Mike, who only seems out for himself.  And out for the attentions of Irene Wilkins (Lilian Bond), the wife of Dizzy Wilkins (Russell Hopton), one of the other pilots at the waystation.  

The station is filled with other characters of the type you'll find in the typical John Ford male-dominated movie, such as the older, world-weary yet kindhearted Pop (David Landau), the man with a secret Tony Dressel (Leslie Fenton), the young buck who seems to be touched with luck until he isn't (Tommy Bogan, played by Frank Albertson), the sardonic comic relief of Slim McCune (Slim Summerville), and of course the ethnic -- if not stereotypes then at least, shall we say -- representations of German (Heinie Kramer, played by Hans Fuerberg), Irish-American (Sleepy Collins, played by silent film actor Tom Carrigan in his final credited role), and good ole boy from the American South (Tex Lane, played by William Daly).

The plot of the film is quite simple.  A massive storm is heading into the area, making it difficult for the pilots to do their job (as if their personal lives weren't already interfering in some cases), and rerouting some passenger planes with their often ungrateful clientele to the tiny airport to be switched to a plane.  After a couple of casualties, Mike decides it's up to him to make sure that the mail must go through.  After all, as the quote at the beginning AND the end of the film states:

"Neither snow, nor rain,

Nor heat, nor gloam 

of night stays these

carriers from the swift

completion of their

appointed rounds"

John Ford seems much at home with this film than he did with his previous endeavour.  He's always been an interesting study as he cherishes both individuality and the organization of men into a cohesive whole.  I think this is why his military films are done so well, because he is able to indulge his devotion of routine, order and rigidity while also making sure each individual in the films stand out.  Here he embraces the community of air mail pilots, a rather topical film as it would turn out to be, as the US Air Mail Service would only be around for two more years, being cancelled by President Franklin Roosevelt (who Bellamy would go on to portray the 32nd president of the US in the miniseries Winds of War and War and Remembrance, based on the books of the same name by Herman Wouk) ... but I digress.

It was interesting seeing Gloria Stuart in such an early role, although she didn't make much of an impression to be honest.  Lilian Bond did a good job of playing what ostensibly is a "bad girl" role, but she makes her character's behaviour believable and rational, given the circumstances she's put in.  Slim Summerville is amusing as always as the comic relief, with some nice sound effects work helping him along.  And Bellamy and O'Brien are strong as always, although these days you don't see too many Pat O'Brien star turns in which he's not acting alongside Humphrey Bogart, James Cagney, or another of the Warner Bros. stable of 1930s gangsters.

The cinematography for this film was done by Karl Freund, who had previously wielded a camera on Fritz Lang's Metropolis, Paul Wegener's Der Golem, and F.W. Murnau's The Last Laugh -- in short, he has a strong background in the shadow and light expressionism of 1920s German cinema.  A couple of his more recent Hollywood efforts before Air Mail were Tod Browning's 1931 version of Dracula and Robert Florey's Murders In The Rue Morgue.  For his next film, Universal would hand him the director's keys for the original 1932 The Mummy, starring Boris Karloff.  As he was probably already in preparations for his directorial debut at the time of filming this, it's understandable if his work in Air Mail is slightly less memorable than his previously mentioned efforts; however, the camera work here is nothing if not solidly professional, and everything is lit well, almost like a slightly less chiaroscuro Casablanca ten years before the fact.

Another thing worth mentioning is this seems to be the first time Ford and his editor, in this case Harry W. Lieb, used graphic wipes as an editing technique.  It's not something he does often, usually preferring either slow dissolves, quick cuts, or fades to black.  He'll use this technique, although sparingly, in the future, yet another tool in his box.

I quite enjoyed Air Mail, a B-movie programmer made by A-list talent, for its heart, its humour, and its refusal to take itself seriously.  Consider it a prototype for Howard Hawks' 1939 masterpiece Only Angels Have Wings.  There would be greater things ahead in Ford's future (along with a few lesser efforts), but Air Mail finds both John Ford and his fans back on solid ground entertainment-wise.

Seven frolicking flyers out of ten.

Top 10 Ingrid Bergman performances (that I've seen)

10. The Bells of St. Mary's: She brings such forceful joie de vivre to her character, which is quite impressive when you realize that her first marriage was crumbling at that time. The movie as a whole I find rather mawkish and overly sentimental, so I have to be in the mood but ... the performance is good. 9. Spellbound: Here we go the other direction. Love love LOVE the movie, the dream sequences like you mentioned (and also shots such as the one at the end with Dr. Murchison in the office with the gun). Her performance, on the other hand, while very good (because let's face it, when is she not?), did grab much as much as the story did. 8. For Whom The Bell Tolls: An underrated classic. Nobody really talks about this one anymore. It's long, almost three hours if I remember correctly, and it's based on Hemingway's novel of the Spanish Civil War. Her character, for all intents and purposes, is "The Girl", but she takes a non-showy part and steals every scene she's in with layers of complexity. Even despite her and co-lead Gary Cooper not having much chemistry together, this is still one of her top ten performances for sure. 7. The Inn of the Sixth Happiness: Another less-known gem, and another epic set in a land and time that doesn't get touched on much. Bergman carries this film (along with some plucky children). I would venture a guess she's onscreen for 85-90% of the film's runtime. The film flubs the landing a bit, seemingly trying to shovel contemporary Western values into what had been a very open-minded framework, but her performance is, as usual, excellent. 6. Autumn Sonata: I love me some Ingmar Bergman almost as much as I love me some Ingrid Bergman (the fact that I have partially Swedish background no doubt is a reason), but oddly enough, this for me is almost mid-tier Bergman. Ingmar, that is. Ingrid's performance is wonderful; one moment you're furious at her, the next your heart breaks, and she makes you feel it all. The film, however, didn't engage me as much. 5. Anastasia: She won best actress in 1956 for this role, and while that was partially political as a "welcome back to Hollywood" type gesture, her performance itself is the stuff of greatness. She makes you live Anna Anderson's journey with her, from the traumatized anxiety in which we find her, to slowly becoming her own person. Is she really the Grand Duchess Anastasia? History has since proven she was not, and the film is ambivalent -- but I found it fascinating that Anna figured out who she was as a person, while trying to pretend to be somebody else. 4. Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde: This is the 1941 version with Ingrid, Lana Turner, and Spencer Tracy as the title characters. A delightful about face from the angelic characters she was usually cast as, Ingrid hams it up here playing a bawdy barmaid (read: prostitute in silver screen parlance) who falls in love with Tracy. It's frankly quite frightening to witness the sassy, flamboyant Ivy become confused and defeated by Jekyll's reign of terror. Not just an against-type performance but a multi-layered one as well. 3. Gaslight: Which leads us into the film that won Ingrid her first Oscar, in 1944. Over the past ten years or so this film has enjoyed quite the renaissance, as the term gaslighting has entered the lexicon. This is great because it has brought entire new legions of fans to classic cinema. The flip side is that because of this it seems to have been put into a box, with the focus being only on the actions of Boyer's character, and not enough attention given to Paula and her struggles to maintain her sanity. I don't like that they eventually turned to a Joseph Cotten-ex machina for the ending, but I do relish Paula's supreme enjoyment of the moment when the tables have turned. 2. Casablanca: This was a tough one for me, because like you I had this and Notorious as my one-two combination, natch. I'm putting this second for reasons I'll explain later. But this is the film that made me fall in love with Ingrid Bergman, as I think it did for us all. Knowing that she and her co-stars had no idea how the film would end as they were making it meant that they -- especially Ingrid -- had to shade their characters with nuance, and it made all the difference in the world. Here's looking at you, kid. 1. Notorious: The reason I chose this as my number one is that it has one of the greatest performances in cinema (Bergman's) in one of the greatest films ever. The nonchalant bravado that Alicia shows at the beginning is an act that masks her self-loathing and insecurity. She falls head over heels for Cary Grant and we feel it -- and then we feel her heartbreak when he throws her to the wolves in the name of duty. We feel her longing for Devlin even as she curses him. We feel her pity for Alex (Claude Rains in a supporting role for the ages) even as she despises him. As Alex and his mother siphon the life and energy out of her, we feel that too. It's an amazing performance, severely overlooked in my opinion. Funny how the Academy can reward performances in which an actor puts on a wig and a fake nose, but ignore an emotionally gutwrenching performance that carries you through the ringer with it.