John Ford Retrospective - The World Moves On (1934)

THE WORLD MOVES ON (1934)

Starring:  Madeleine Carroll, Franchot Tone, Reginald Denny, Sig Ruman, Louise Dresser, Raul Roulien, Stepin Fetchit, Lumsden Hare, Dudley Digges, Frank Melton, Brenda Fowler, Russell Simpson, Walter McGrail, Marcelle Corday, Charles Bastin, Barry Norton, George Irving, Ferdinand Schumann-Heink, Georgette Rhodes, Claude King, Ivan F. Simpson, Frank Moran

Writer:  Reginald Berkeley

Music:  Arthur Lange (co-ordinator)

Cinematography:  George Schneiderman

Editor:  Paul Weatherwax

B&W, 1h 44m.  1.37:1 presentation.

Released on:  June 27, 1934 by Fox Film Corporation.

My experience:  Ford at Fox DVD box set

The World Moves On is rated fairly low in the John Ford pantheon, and for the life of me I can't quite figure out why.  Check that - I do have an idea.  Supposedly the studio head at Fox (Darryl F. Zanuck) was annoyed at Ford's predilection for going off the screenplay and shooting whatever he felt - a valid concern for a major studio in the midst of the Great Depression, as celluloid has never been cheap.  In a fit of pique, he decided to shoot the screenplay -- and only the screenplay.  Then he handed the film off to the studio and left all his footage in their hands, essential telling them to do what they want with it.  My theory is that because Ford wasn't a fan of the material and shot his footage without the usual Fordian flair, its value is somehow diminished.

I propose a revision to this general reception of the film.  I propose that The World Moves On succeeds -- not because of John Ford, but rather despite him.  Zanuck, along with the film's producer Winfield R. Sheehan, took what Ford had given them, and enhanced the film with battle scenes from the 1932 French film Les Croix de Bois (English title: Wooden Crosses), as well as using then-current newsreel footage towards the end of the film.  Perhaps it's because I'm a student of 20th century history, but I felt that the usage of the newsreels, as well as the battle scenes, gave it a feeling of timeliness and importance that it otherwise might not have had.

The first fifteen minutes of the film consists of a prologue of sorts, set in 1825 New Orleans.  The Girard family is gathered at the estate for the reading of a will by a notary (Russell Simpson) regarding the future of the Girard-Warburton cotton family business.  The forward-looking, recently deceased patriarch and his wife (Brenda Fowler) decree that business and family come before everything else in life, and to that end, wish to stake their claim to the four top territories of that time: the United States, Great Britain, France and Prussia.  Older brother Carlos (Raul Roulien) gets France, middle brother John (Frank Melton) gets Germany, and youngest brother Richard (Franchot Tone) gets the USA, while business partner Gabriel Warburton (Lumsden Hare) and his pretty young wife (Madeleine Carroll) head back to Manchester, England.  An attraction between Richard and Mrs. Warburton develops, helped along by Richard fighting a duel against a man (Walter McGrail) who has insulted the lady's honour.  Before anything further can develop, everyone is thrown to the four corners of the earth to propagate the Girard-Warburton family business.

Cut to 1914 and the family is together in New Orleans for one of their every-decade reunions.  Charles Girard (George Irving) and his wife (Marcelle Corday) want their son Richard (Franchot Tone, again) to take more of an interest in the business.  From Germany comes Baron von Gerhardt (Sig Ruman), whose family has changed their name from Girard to von Gerhardt after being titled.  He and Baroness von Gerhardt (Louise Dresser), along with their children Erik (Reginald Denny) and Fritz (Ferdinand Schumann-Heink), join their kin from France, Henri Girard (Raul Roulien, again) and his son, ten-year old Jacques (Charles Bastin, played later as a young man by Barry Norton).  From Manchester comes Sir John Warburton (Lumsden Hare, again) and his daughter Mary (Madeleine Carroll, again), along with the factory manager, Mr. Manning (Dudley Digges).  

It is assumed by the family that Erik and Mary will eventually wed as a matter of course, but Mary and Richard feel a strong pull towards each other, feeling as if they had some sort of connection in the past.  No duels here, but after the whole family takes the trip to France for Fritz's marriage to Jeanne (Georgette Rhodes), World War I breaks out, which is even worse.  Richard joins the French Foreign Legion along with Henri, Fritz becomes a U-boat commander, and Erik is an officer in the interrogation unit of the German army.  Mary, meanwhile, becomes head of the factory in Manchester.  This is interspersed with scenes involving Stepin Fetchit as Dixie, a racist caricature that seems very out of place today.  As with many scenes involving black performers back then, his scenes are just dropped in there, to be easily removed from reels going to the Southern USA.

We follow the movements of the family members throughout the war, but the film doesn't stop there.  It takes into account the effect the war has on both the family dynamic and society as a whole, leading all the way through the Crash of 1929 and beyond.

Trivia note:  this was the first film to be given the Production Code seal of approval -- so of course a scene with Madeleine Carroll and Franchot Tone sitting on a bed smooching surprised me a little bit.  Guess they were still getting their bearings at the Hays office early on!

Even though Ford essentially phoned this one in, there are a few nice touches cinematically.  There's a shot of Mary looking through a window in Lille, France, after watching Richard join the Foreign Legion.  The camera is fixated on her face behind the window, while a reflection of the soldiers marching by parades across the glass.  It's essentially an alternative version of a similar image in Four Sons, in which a face is superimposed on a shot of soldiers marching, but no less powerful for it.  Another shot towards the end of The World Moves On has a troop of soldiers returning home after the war, as superimposition is used in this case to have a line of double-exposed soldiers marching up the slanted roof of a church, as if off to heaven.

I was originally going to praise Ford for his depiction of the battle scenes, but after finding out that scenes from the aforementioned French film were used, I can't really do that.  I can, however, praise the director (Raymond Bernard), cinematographer (Jules Kruger) and editor (Lucienne Grumberg) of Les Croix de Bois.  The frenetic, often hand-held camera work and chaotic editing really bring home the reality of war, in a way that so many movies of that time were either unable or unwilling to do.  It was, quite frankly, a brilliant choice by Zanuck and Sheehan to interpolate scenes from the French war film into the Hollywood studio film.

As for the newsreel footage at the end: after Mary chastises the men of the family for chasing after war profits, in a very memorable speech, we are shown what is happening in the world today, i.e. 1934.  And it is quite chilling.  Armies mobilizing, Hitler and Mussolini saluting marching troops passing; from a 21st century lens, knowing that indeed the world would again descend into horrifying chaos by the end of the decade, it's eerily prescient stuff.  Zanuck's films often leaned towards the side of pacifism, and his choices here are no different.  One of the few things that grates on me (notwithstanding the whole Stepin Fetchit nonsense) is the final shot of the film, in which a shot of Jesus on the cross is front and centre in front of a light source radiating out in all directions.  Way too heavy-handed for me. 

The acting is solid if not spectacular.  But this is one of those films that brings to mind the saying "they had faces then."  Look at how Carroll and Tone are lit in their scenes and revel in the joy that is classic Hollywood key lighting.  Is it realistic?  Hell, no!  Does it set the mood?  Absolutely.  Unlike many people, I don't have any issue with the length of the film.  I actually think it could be a bit longer, as it sort of skims through the postwar period.  One more thing I'd like to mention is the production design by William S. Darling and costume design by Rita Kaufman.  Elegant when need be, decrepit in other places, it again firmly directs the tone and atmosphere of the production.

I suppose I'm one of the few, but I can't find much wrong with The World Moves On.  While not one hundred percent a John Ford film, it stands as a high quality, personal epic of the sort that Hollywood truly specialized in during its heyday.  Definite recommendation for a lesser-seen gem.

Nine brotherly businessmen out of ten.

John Ford Retrospective - The Lost Patrol (1934)

THE LOST PATROL (1934)

Starring:  Victor McLaglen, Boris Karloff, Wallace Ford, Reginald Denny, J.M. Kerrigan, Billy Bevan, Alan Hale, Brandon Hurst, Douglas Walton, Sammy Stein, Howard Wilson, Paul Hanson

Writers:  Dudley Nichols, Garrett Fort (based on the story "Patrol" by Philip MacDonald)

Music:  Max Steiner

Cinematography:  Harold Wenstrom

Editor:  Paul Weatherwax

B&W, 1h 13m.  1.37:1 presentation.

Released on:  February 16, 1934 by RKO Radio Pictures.

My experience:  John Ford Film Collection DVD box set

This is the movie that sort of set the standard for all the exotic action film quickies that were especially prevalent in theatres of the 1930s.  It's a very good example of what talented people can accomplish on a miniscule budget.  

John Ford directed this film for RKO, and did so much with so little.  No major stars, unless you included character actors Victor McLaglen and Boris Karloff, one set and a whole lot of sand dunes.  Filmed in the Algodones Dunes in southeastern California and Yuma, Arizona, it is set during the 1917 Mesopotamian campaign in what is now known as Iraq.  Victor McLaglen plays The Sergeant (we never do learn his name), whose squadron finds themselves stranded in the harsh Mesopotamian desert after their lieutenant is killed during an ambush.  With scant supplies they make their way to a little oasis to dig in and fight against an always unseen enemy, hoping someone from the British Army will find them before it is too late.

That's pretty much the gist of the story; the quick-running one hour and seventeen minutes is less concerned with plot than it is with characterization and personalities; how the stresses and traumas of war affect different people in different ways.  There is Sanders (Boris Karloff), an uptight religious zealot type who gets nuttier as the movie goes on; Morelli (Wallace Ford), a circus performer who acts as a sort of calm ballast to the other enlisted men; and George Brown (Reginald Denny), an apparently lazy toff who comes through when push comes to shove.  Other members of the squadron include Quincannon (J.M. Kerrigan), a lifer in the army who has gotten into his fair share of troubles over the years; Herbert Hale (Billy Bevan), a fellow lifer and comic foil for Quincannon; and Matlow Cook (Alan Hale), Corporal Bell (Brandon Hurst), young recruit Pearson (Douglas Walton), Abelson (Sammy Stein), a boxer; and Jock MacKay (Paul Hanson).  Howard Wilson appears in a small role as an aviator who unsuccessfully attempts to rescue the ever-dwindling group of soldiers.

This is a very good movie, with only a few things that really stood out as hindrances to my viewing experience.  The first one is Boris Karloff's performance as Sanders.  It is definitely memorable; I still recalled his performance from my first viewing of The Lost Patrol almost 20 years ago.  But it just seemed so histrionic and over-acted that it took me out of the picture.  The Sergeant seems to be a very observant man always looking out for his men; how could the rabid intensity and irascibility of Sanders go unnoticed by such a professional soldier?  The second had to do with the racism of the film.  Now while I try to watch older films as if I were viewing it through the lens of the world in which it was made, it's still a jolt to hear people casually throwing about not just derogatory terms but entire attitudes of generalization for ethnic others.  Check the quotes section of IMDB for a taste of what to expect.  

Those qualms aside, this is an engrossing movie that never overstays its short 73 minute run time.  As mentioned in some of my other reviews, John Ford specialized in the cameraderie of men, and this is a splendid example of the way men communicate under stress, some folding to the pressure, others rising to the occasion.  There's also the factor of the unseen enemy.  We see our squadron getting picked off one by one, but have no idea where the shooting is coming from, other than a general idea.  This lack of a specific target keeps both the soldiers and the viewer on their guard, not knowing when or where the next attack will come from.  

Ford stages his battle scenes in spurts of frenetic action, then leaves us to catch up with the results.  His cinematography is gorgeous, capturing the beauty and deadliness of the harsh arid terrain of the sand dunes.  His use of shadows and light is effective as always, as the oasis of palm trees, water and shelter in the form of an abandoned mosque quickly turns claustrophobic and oppressive.  The musical score by Max Steiner is up there with the master composer's best work, not necessarily as a memorable theme like Gone With The Wind, but as a throughline for the filmmaker's intent, both militarily glorious and subdued and reflective.  Not a surprise he got a nomination for best score (in the first year of the category's existence).

While parts of it can be difficult to watch, especially to modern viewers, The Lost Patrol is a solid, entertaining piece of film work that flies by.  A must-see for fans of classic films, and more than worth the while for anybody willing to put aside 73 minutes to see the type of film they just don't make anymore.

Eight stranded squadrons out of ten.

John Ford Retrospective - Doctor Bull (1933)

DOCTOR BULL (1933)

Starring:  Will Rogers, Rochelle Hudson, Louise Dresser, Vera Allen, Ralph Morgan, Marian Nixon, Howard Lally, Andy Devine, Berton Churchill

Writer:  Paul Green (based on the book "The Last Adam" by James Gould Cozzens

Cinematography:  George Schneiderman

Editor:  Louis R. Loeffler

Music:  Samuel Kaylin

B&W, 1h 17m.  1.37:1 presentation.

Released on:  September 1, 1933 by Fox Film Corporation.

My experience:  Ford at Fox DVD box set.

Doctor Bull is very representative of John Ford himself, in that it revels in the simplicity of small town American values, while at the same time mocking its faults fairly mercilessly.  He is aided in this approach by Will Rogers, an old hand at acting (having been in the theatah since the vaudeville days) turned political and social pundit.  While less remembered today, he was famous throughout the United States in the 1920s and 1930s, lovingly referred to as "Ambassador at Large of the United States." He had a folksy yet subtly intellectual charm, with humor that could "bridge the gap" as they say in today's parlance.  He died in a plane crash in 1935 at the top of his game, and Doctor Bull marks the first of three films he made with John Ford before he died.

Here he plays George Bull, a former animal doctor turned small town physician in the fictional town of New Winton, Connecticut.  George looks after the health of all the town's adults and children, but his pet case seems to be that of Joe Tupping (Howard Lally), a young man who broke his leg falling of the top of a house.  Both the townspeople and George's colleagues insist that Joe is a hopeless case and will be paralyzed for life, but George and Joe's wife May (Marian Nixon) have hope that he will pull through and regain his mobility.  George has a romantic interest in one Janet Cardmaker (Vera Allen), a widow who lives on a hillside farm just outside of town.  

Janet is what some might call "well off," especially in the parlance of 1930s Depression-era America.  While she is a paragon of goodness (no matter what the town gossips, played by Louise Carter, Tempe Pigott, Nora Cecil and Elizabeth Patterson, say), her powerful family is, for the most part, quite the opposite.  Her brother, Herbert Banning (Berton Churchill), is a businessman and real estate mogul whose wife (Louise Dresser) is far more concerned with optics and social niceties than her own daughter Virginia (Rochelle Hudson)'s well-being.  Over Virginia's objections, her parents are trying to marry her off in a social matchup, and Doctor Bull seems to be the only one Virginia can count on to be her friend.  

In fact Bull is there to support everybody in the town, existing on hardly any sleep while getting midnight phone calls from hypochondriacs like town soda jerk Larry Ward (Andy Devine, doing his patented Andy Devine schtick).  When he realizes that an outbreak of typhoid has been brought on by Herbert's water works project not following codes, he gets confirmation from his big city colleague Dr. Verney (Ralph Morgan), while getting backlash from his own community.  Soon he's brought in front of a local mob and castigated by people who should know better.  Ah, but Doctor Bull is a better man than me; instead of washing his hands of the judgemental own hypocrites, he doubles down on trying to get the town children vaccinated (it doesn't seem as if things have changed much in the past 90 years).  Being a classic Hollywood studio film, all's well that ends well.

Doctor Bull is a decently entertaining piece of small town Americana.  At an hour and seventeen minutes, it doesn't overstay its welcome, and the pace is brisk.  It packs a lot of plot into its short runtime.  Ford always has an eye for detail, and the townspeople, as in so many of his films, are scene stealers.  Louise Carter, who plays Mrs. Ely, veers close to caricature but never reaches it; rather, her obvious joy in being the town gossip hits home; we all know somebody like that!

This is the first film I've seen with Will Rogers.  For someone who considers himself a student of classic cinema, it's surprising that I hadn't come across him sooner.  However, it took me until my late 20s to discover the genius of Harold Lloyd, so I guess some things you just have to discover on your own time.  Rogers' humour, while served up in a nearly-obsolete folksy manner, packs a bit of a punch for all its understated delivery.  His acting as well impressed me; for some reason I think I was expecting a "local yokel" type performance, but his subtlety of style wouldn't look out of place in today's world.

While not John Ford's best movie, Doctor Bull is a decently entertaining film with a short running time that will easily kill 80 minutes.  It praises small town pleasures while pointedly taking on the pitfalls of some of its people; it salutes scientific achievement while saving a soft spot for community-oriented servitude.  It's balanced without being frustrating.  Beware, however, if you have high blood pressure; the behaviour of the pick-a-little, talk-a-little townspeople might get you a little riled up!  Worth a watch on a rainy day.

Six pragmatic physicians out of ten.

John Ford Retrospective - Pilgrimage (1933)

PILGRIMAGE (1933)

Starring:  Henrietta Crosman, Heather Angel, Norman Foster, Marian Nixon, Maurice Murphy, Lucille La Verne, Charley Grapewin, Hedda Hopper, Robert Warwick, Louise Carter, Betty Blythe, Francis Ford, Jay Ward, Frances Rich

Writers:  Philip Klein, Barry Conners (based on a story by I.A.R. Wylie)

Cinematography:  George Schneiderman

Editor:  Louis R. Loeffler

Music:  R.H. Bassett, director Samuel Kaylin

B&W, 1h 36m.  1.37:1 presentation.

Released on:  July 12, 1933 by Fox Film Corporation.

My experience:  Ford at Fox DVD box set

Pilgrimage is one of those films that comes to mind when you think of an unsung classic film.  Though it was directed by John Ford, it seems to be practically unknown, even to classic movie buffs such as myself.  I had heard of the film by name but other than that I was unaware as to its contents, or even whether it was any good.  After seeing the film, the latter worry can be put to rest.  This is a beautifully artistic yet restrained film by a master filmmaker entering his prime, and the only reason I can see it not being more well known is that it deviates somewhat from Ford's filmography in that its protagonist is a woman.  It wasn't the only one of that ilk that he directed, either; but far be it for me to cast speculation on the vagaries of cinema history, and the perhaps sexist views of the Cahiers de Cinema clique.  That would require a whole other essay to unpack.

The film opens in 1915 in fictitious Three Cedars, Arkansas, where Mrs. Hannah Jessop (Henrietta Crosman) is a widowed farmsteader.  Her son Jimmy (Norman Foster) feels stifled by his unappreciative mother, and wishes to break out on his own.  She guilt trips him into staying, but forbids him from seeing local lass Mary Saunders (Marian Nixon), whom she looks down upon because Mary's father (Charley Grapewin) is an alcoholic.  

A couple of years later, love and nature have taken their course, and Mary is pregnant with Jimmy's child.  At this point, Hannah vindictively signs Jimmy up for the Army.  The lad had previously expressed his desire to help his country, but she had used her local power and his position as her only child to block him from being drafted.  Now, however, she essentially signs his death warrant ... and slightly before the armistice is signed, Jimmy becomes fodder for the soon-to-be-silent cannons.

Ten years later, an embittered Hannah, who has turned even more inward and hateful, denies herself any association with Mary or her grandson Jimmy Jr (Jay Ward).  One day she is approached by Mayor Briggs (Francis Ford) and her neighbour Mrs. Simms (Adele Watson, in her final film role) as a potential candidate to go overseas and represent America as a Gold Star Mother (American women who lost sons in the Great War) at a dedication of a monument to slain American soldiers in France.  She is virulently against it at first, but allows herself to be persuaded, if only to escape the sight of Mary and Jimmy Jr.

She is brought on board by Major Albertson (Robert Warwick) and introduced to her fellow passengers by the Gold Star organizer Janet Prescot (Betty Blythe).  She rooms with Mrs. Rogers (Louis Carter), but finds a certain kinship with one Mrs. Kelly Hatfield (Lucille La Verne).  She finds herself loosening up and enjoying herself, but after a breakdown on board by Mrs. Rogers, she realizes she doesn't belong amongst the group, concluding that while they loved their children wholly and unconditionally, she was never able to show her feelings in a similar fashion.

While walking the streets of Paris one evening, she comes across a young man (American, natch) who appears to be pondering suicide upon a bridge.  Upon discovering that the young man, a Park Avenue heir named Gary Worth (Maurice Murphy), is despondent over the fact that his mother (Hedda Hopper) won't let him marry his sweetheart Suzanne (Heather Angel), she takes it upon herself to be his guardian angel (I got vibes of It's a Wonderful Life while watching this), and takes him home to sleep it off.  Upon meeting the girl and realizing she is pregnant with Gary's son, Hannah realizes they are in the same situation as Jimmy was, and makes it her mission to convert Mrs. Worth to acceptance of her son's relationship, wanting to make up for her mistakes and also to prevent Mrs. Worth from making one of her own.  She then heads to her late son's grave and prays for his forgiveness, eventually making her way back to Three Cedars and opening her heart to Mary and her grandson.

The film is titled Pilgrimage, ostensibly for the journey Mrs. Jessop makes to France, but it can also be argued that the title refers to the personal and spiritual journey Hannah goes on.  It is a genuinely moving and believeable journey, told as only the golden oldies could in those days of unironic sentiment.  Henrietta Crosman is phenomenal in the role of Hannah Jessop, and for the life of me I can't see why she didn't have a bigger career in film.  She nails the hardness that a widowed farmer would have felt she needed to survive, and presents her slow thaw (and before that, her conflicted feelings) beautifully.  Even when her journey has come full circle, Crosman is careful to make sure her character is like a bull in a china shop with her love, bursting through Mary's door and announcing her presence and her recalcitrance as if their forgiveness was a given.

There are some subtle moments of humour, as when Crosman and Foster are sawing a giant log in the farmyard, and later when she breaks a baguette violently over her knee in France.  These visual representations of male castration are quite obvious, but I got a kick out of them.  The film is very nicely directed by John Ford, who focuses on character moments and faces above his usual painterly vistas.  Even so, he uses the frame in such a way that Jimmy often appears framed by walls and doors, as if he's trapped, suffocated in his mother's presence.  Even at his death, Jimmy isn't just shot; rather, a trench collapses upon his platoon, and his final moments are most likely the physical embodiment of how he's felt his whole life.

It probably sounds from what I've written that Pilgrimage is a dark, morose tale.  While it isn't always a barrel of laughs, it is a sharp, insightful look into the human character, and how different people react to tragedy and trauma (Harriet forcefully tries to control everything around her; Mary finds enjoyment in what small pleasures she can).  Not the first film that pops into your head when thinking about John Ford, but maybe it should be.  It's right up there, sneakily among his finest.

Nine possessive parents out of ten.

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.