A Farewell to Arms (Frank Borzage, 1932)

Based on the Ernest Hemingway semi-autobiographical A Farewell to Arms, Frank Borzage’s 1932 film is considered one of the best adaptations of his novels. An important film that tackles the war pessimistically, it celebrates the unique and romantic love forged between a Lieutenant and nurse and the tragic outcome. A Farewell to Arms boldly stated how commonplace pre-marital sex was during the Great War, while also tackling the fracturing relationship and conflict soldiers had towards the cause itself. Something frowned upon by the Hays Code who deemed that “lustful kissing” and the scenes of childbirth needed to be excised from the film. Thank God David O. Selznick had an original nitrate copy after garnering the rights for his remake in 1955, for Lobster Films to restore.

Bombs explode during the opening credits. A Farewell to Arms charts Lt. Frederic Henry’s (Gary Cooper) career as an American, working for the ambulances on the Italian Front. Arriving at a local hospital, Major Rinaldi (Adolph Menjou) recommends the nurses - and specifically Ms. Catherine Barclay (Helen Hayes). Frederic and Catherine meet, by chance, when bombs hit the town and he drunkenly plays with her foot, mistaking her for someone else. Their romance blossoms, something the nurses are displeased with. Officers, including Rinaldi, become worried Frederic will “lose his head over some woman”. Fate brings them together in Milan, whereby Frederic is injured and Catherine by his bedside. Their love distracts them from the war, but it isn’t long before Lt. Henry is called back to the front. Reluctantly they part ways, though Frederic is unaware of her pregnancy...

One would expect the Lieutenant to fight, return to his girlfriend with child, to live their life together. Slight alterations from the book are expected, but a positive end is not Hemingway. The Lieutenant doesn’t see what he is fighting for and, against regulation, runs away from the front. Arrested, he flees to Switzerland, only to hold his lover as she dies in his arms.

The opening alone hints at such a dark commentary on military action, as we pan over a hill to reveal a dead soldier with a missing leg. A throwaway attitude to women is also callous and flippant. “What sort of town is it? Any girls?”/”…a house full of them”. The Hays Production Code in 1934 cut these “sordid” moments, and even inserted a shot of a wedding ring being placed on Catherine’s hand (despite talk of a wedding later in the film!) to try and create a more “decent” picture.

But this is what makes A Farewell to Arms so powerful. The re-release of Rome, Open City revealed the pressures and losses during World War II and All Quiet on the Western Front told us about the horrors. we can look back on war with a certain nostalgia, or sense of pride. A Farewell to Arms tells us how awful it can be – while in the foreground is a loving relationship that we should all be so lucky to have.

This post was originally written for Flickering Myth on 30th May 2014

The Mummy (Karl Freund, 1932)

Contrast Dracula with The Mummy and the tone changes. Mark Cousins celebrates Dracula and Frankenstein as the two films that shaped Hollywood genre filmmaking – and The Mummy appears to primarily repeat the success of Frankenstein by casting Boris Karloff as the unnatural monster in the world. Karloff, iconic and unforgettable, continues to play a large, imposing, gaunt and deeply unsettling monster. Make-up (by Jack Pierce) is impressive as Karloff emerges as ‘The Mummy’ in the opening sequence and – in the final moments – breaks down into a bag of bones on the floor. The Mummy was hugely successful and is considered a “photographers film”, celebrating the director Karl Freund – a director who had working with Browning on Dracula and Fritz Lang on Metropolis.

The Mummy is the first version of the deceased Egyptian whereby he is brought back to life and, crucially, seeks to find his loved one in the modern world (A mummy had been brought back to life in a silent film in 1911). The film begins in 1921, whereby ‘The Mummy’ is raised. Ten years later under the name Ardath Bey, The Mummy advises the expedition to search in a specific location to find the remains of his lost love. In an attempt at raising her from the dead, he requires an Egyptian woman’s body. The Egyptologists and archaeologists (actors from Dracula include David Manners and Edward Van Sloan) realise that Ardath Bey is, in fact, Imhotep, but it is too late as Imhotep kills and controls mortal’s minds as he inches closer to reviving his princess.

Clear parallels can be created between the two films. They both arrive to an alien location (Modern day in The Mummy; London for Dracula) and kill others for the love of a woman they intend to make their own – mummifying and vampiricising (?) respectively. Considering this, it is strange to imagine how 1999’s The Mummy, starring Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz, is a remake of this horror classic. While The Mummy was turned into a successful million-dollar, CGI-laden blockbuster, Dracula remains amongst the spooky horror sub-genre movies. Unlike The Mummy, Dracula cannot be reinterpreted easily. Dracula has so many iconic, defined elements that cannot be adjusted or erased ensuring that the 1931 original holds its lofty place in the horror canon. The long, static moments as the camera waits silently, observing Bela Lugosi or Boris Karloff is a testament to the skill and power of silence – a type of filmmaking that these filmmakers and actors were more than accustomed to. Modern horror is grim and gruesome; explicit and shocking. As Dracula leans into bite his victims, Browning cuts to the next scene. We could learn from these masters of horror. So, it is only apt that we watch these films again – in darkened rooms, with the lights down low, as the crazed laughs of madmen echo down the halls. The old footage, and marks on the film reel, only support the spookiness of these Classic Horror films.

This is Part II of a double-bill screening with Dracula. Click here to read Part I of this review. The full review can be read at Flickering Myth

Trouble in Paradise (Ernst Lubitsch, 1932)

"It must be the most marvelous supper. We may not eat it, but it must be marvelous."

Introduction

This is paddling into the Lubitsch territory. Master filmmaker Billy Wilder co-wrote some late-Lubitsch pictures, and turned to him for inspiration on a daily basis by placing a sign on his desk to turn to when in doubt: "What would Lubitsch have done?" was all it read.

Trouble in Paradise is additionally an example of a Pre-Code film. Released in 1932, it was not approved by the Production Code and was refused re-issue in 1935 due to the innuendo and overt sexuality of the characters, and consequently hidden away until 1968. A film that defined "The Lubitsch Touch", containing all the trademark elements of the filmmaker, locked away for over thirty-years is simply tragic. It is difficult to imagine how we would feel if, three years after release, our favourite film vanished, unavailable to easily-access. Truly it is one of those things which we take for granted in a day and age whereby films sit online, to access instantaneously.

Two Thieves in the Night

The set-up is genius as two characters try to out-con each other, only to reveal that they are both thieves. Lily (Miriam Hopkins), a pickpocket, attempts to outsmart Gaston Monescu (Herbert Marshall), a master thief on the run. The intelligence in the script resides in how we, as viewers, do not initially know each character. We are unsure whether Gaston is a thief; and for a moment, we are unsure about Lily too. The story leads us slowly to understand that they are both trying to outsmart each other - eventually falling for each other. This set-up is playful and personal - already establishing the lovers from the get-go.

But it is Gaston's story as he moves into Madame Marriette Colet's (Kay Francis) house, hired as the accountant for her and the perfume business she owns. Inevitably perhaps, the true motive between the two becomes unclear as business and pleasure becomes hazy. Is Gaston falling for Colet? Is Colet falling for Gaston? Is Gaston conning Colet, by pretending to fall for her? We are not told until the final act...

Playfulness

The pace and playfulness of the film is summarised by two sequences that highlight Lubitsch's flair and inventiveness. To depict the daily life of Madame Colet, we see the various greetings she states and others say to her in a series of quick-cuts. Characters repeat the phrase "Hello"/"hello"/"goodbye"/"Hello", etc. We see the many different shop-tailors and assistants speak to her - clearly they know her well. This simple series of events highlight her flippant attitude towards finance and the amount of money she has. To some extent, it is clear that she is quite foolish and unaware about how open she is with her money.

The second sequence that captures the skill of Lubitsch is when the camera remains static on a clock as we hear the commotion surrounding the clock at different intervals to represent the passing of time. Again, a slight change in lighting and sound is what clarifies the situation - and it is effortless as we imagine the surrounding elements. In a similar manner, in one scene, Gaston and Colet kiss on a sofa as it fades out and then, fading back in, it reveals the empty sofa and then cuts to the characters walking between rooms. Without a line in the script; without a revealing shot; the characters have had sex.

A Social Balance

A story that revolves around theft from the upper class will always have a clear agenda regarding its social context. Indeed, our introduction to Madame Colet supports our disgust with the wealth of the upper class when she purchases a hand bag for $125,000. She loses it and, upon placing an advert in the paper for finding the bag, many people arrive to - potentially - gain the reward. One man argues our own opinion and shouts at her "fool! fool!" with regards to spending such an amount of money on a handbag.

But, considering the small cast, the tension lies in Gaston and his attitude. His criminal lifestyle, we wonder, is it through greed or envy. Does he simply want to take everything? Or does he, deep down, seek to be the same upper-class accountant he purports to be? His love for her fueled by a lust for the same equal stance in society - indeed, his dialect and posture indicates a clear understanding of the upper-class.

Such a tension how, on the surface it is merely a man choosing who he really loves whilst, bubbling under the narrative, is a personal conflict regarding wealth, status and the definition of greed. I can see where Billy Wilder managed to get the confidence to tackle stories of such sadness and sorrow (such as The Lost Weekend and Double Indemnity) in a manner that is light and playful - Lubitsch does it here in Trouble in Paradise. Walking out of a cinema and, despite laughing and smiling whilst watching the film, you ponder the  Western attitudes to class, really is a testament to film-making that aspires to be so much more than entertainment.

Silly Symphony #29: Flowers and Trees (Burt Gillett, 1932)

Mickey Mouse Presents... A Walt Disney Silly Symphony...

Introduction

In 1930, two huge losses hit the Walt Disney studio - notably Carl Stalling and Ub Iwerks left the studio to work for Warner Bros and set-up their own studio respectively. Famously, Iwerks animated Mickey Mouse himself in Steamboat Willie whilst Stalling, as we know, is credited with the creation of the Silly Symphonies in the first place. The beginning of sound is what made Disney become incredibly successful when Mickey Mouse arrived. The use of music and, crucially, the perfect timing it had alongside dancing animated-characters and musical instruments - be it skulls or rib cages - is what further catapulted the Walt Disney brand further. Two major brands in Mickey Mouse and the Silly Symphonies ensured Disney's continued success. Despite the loss of Iwerks and Stalling, Disney began hiring animators from New York and composers who had worked in the orchestra-pits during the silent-days ... and, looking to the future, Walt Disney gained exclusive-rights for two-years for the use of a three-colour process, via a company called Technicolour, in animation. Now Disney had sound and colour and the first film to use this? Flowers and Trees in 1932.

Nature Finds A Way

The film won an Academy Award for Animated Short Subject and, personally, shows the depth of imagination available. You see how such a wide variety of plants are anthropomorphised and how the characters are much much fleshed out - specifically the 'evil' tree with the creature inside his mouth and the small belly-button hole which forces him to laugh mid-fight. A really great example as to how the cartoons were developing further. Uncredited director Burt Gillett, also directed Three Little Pigs and Babes in the Woods, whilst among the animators were David Hand and Les Clark, both of which, worked o Snow White and the Seven Dwarves five years later...