Cimarron Repulsive Edna Ferber adaptation that would probably be a lot easier to forgive if it weren't coming from a sanctimonious "progressive" vantage that is wholly unearned by the rampant racism that permeates the proceedings. From the black shoeshiner who stows away to "Oklyhomy" and goes ape for the stack of watermelons which greet him upon entering the territory, to the token Jewish merchant who is emasculated and cornered into a makeshift crucifix formed by a horse post (and all while supposedly naysaying such anti-Semitic bullying-- pshaw), there's something to disgust everyone. Richard Dix is truly horrible in the lead, like one of the worst performances I've ever seen bad, and while I'm not the biggest Dunne fan, even she's better than her work here. The only reason this won the Best Pic statue is because MGM wanted to feel better about having wasted so much money on the film. I wonder how much of the unfair toxic reaction to Mann's 1960 superior remake was just residual resentment for this flick?
East Lynne Unavailable, and just as well, given Lloyd's track record.
the Front Page Good direction by Lewis Milestone does its best to translate the energy of the source material into the film. However, the neutered cuts mandated by the Breen Office leave much of the bluster of the film just that, bluster (though the film at least goes for broke with the final line), though certainly the mean-spirited nature here is what sets it most apart from its more well-known and superior remake, His Girl Friday. Pat O'Brien is, as always, the (homelier) Joel McCrea of the period, but Edward Everett Horton is fun as ever in his small role as the neat freak reporter.
Skippy I've often wondered why the Academy gave a Best Director Oscar to Norman Taurog, one of the most invisible workhorses to ever pass through the studio system. Well, now that I've seen the pic he was rewarded for, it seems clear that the Academy was suitably impressed with Taurog's ability to get competent, at times actually childlike performances out of his mostly kindergarden-aged cast. The film itself works best when it stops trying to be a proto-sitcom (I see it was based on a comic strip, which figures) and actually hits some observant humor. I especially liked the early gags about kids getting ready. The film admittedly does such a good job capturing children that it often slips into shrill and loud kids play with little mercy for the adults who are presumably the target audience.
It's got my vote, but not before I make two final passing observations about the film: It presents the poor as heroes and the middle class as villains, yet makes the primary villain a member of the lower class. And for having two screenwriters who went on to directorial careers of their own, what were McLeod and Mankiewicz thinking with that 180 ending that literally could have been written by a first grader?
Trader Horn An entertaining film for the most part, but reading about how many people involved got sick and/or died as a result of filming, it's hard to justify that it was "worth it." The film wants to be a documentary and an acted narrative, and it surprisingly works best when the two bleed together rather than come apart (the wonderful circular tribal singing underscoring our heroes being tied to crosses and placed upside down in a pyre, for instance). Of course, the underlying narrative is a mindblower: whites must rescue other whites at all costs, even when they've fully assimilated into another culture. Gee, why hasn't this been released on DVD yet?!
My Vote: Skippy
1932
Arrowsmith About as disappointing as the melding of two great early 20th century artists like John Ford and Sinclair Lewis can be. Dull medical hagiography was all the rage with the Oscars in the early years, and this sadly offers just more symptoms and no cure.
Bad Girl The best film I've seen exclusively for this project yet. I was absolutely enchanted by this slice of life played against two of the most agreeable characters I've seen in some time. I laughed, I cried, and ran the gamut of emotions in between. There's nothing better than a small film done well, and Borzage's masterpiece has done the impossible: It's gotten me to vote against Shanghai Express!
the Champ Entertaining-enough lovable loser pic that succeeds solely on the merits of its two likable leads. Beery's one-time prominence as Hollywood's biggest star never fails to fascinate me, and he certainly has a real screen presence to overcome his less than marketable looks. Cooper is good in the everyday kid scenes, as he was in Skippy, but is out of his element in the more emotional sequences. Nevertheless, if it weren't for these two, this predictable bit of hokum wouldn't register at all.
Five Star Final A decent social problem picture that's really only good when it's being bad. Robinson barks out orders with little attention to anything beyond speed of delivery, but Karloff is great fun in what is really a nasty and perverse role. His behavior, even when seen through the sheen of the film's pseudo-disapproval, is so despicable that the rest of the film comes off as toothless in comparison. Anyone not connected with the newspaper, including (unfortunately) the knock-out qt Marian Marsh, is total deadwood.
Grand Hotel An entertaining bit of Hollywood nothingness. Ensemble pieces like this don't really work when one star/storyline shines so much brighter than the others, but that's definitely what happens with Lionel Barrymore's lovable dying prole, and the film wisely pushes more and more of its focus onto him as the running time winds onward. A lot of the other scenery-chewers here are surprisingly left in his dust, including the much-ballyhooed Garbo. In no way did this deserve to win Best Pic over Bad Girl, but we all know the awards were more crooked than usual this early on, and it could have gone worse.
One Hour With You A little better than the other Lubitsch musical from this year, but not by enough. I usually flip over audience interaction fourth-wall breaking, but it got a little stale here. I've already forgotten pretty much everything about this one save my initial reaction.
Shanghai Express I am reminded of Chabrol's comment that it's impossible to adequately replicate why a film works in words, which is why films cost so much. Let's meet half-way:
the Smiling Lieutenant Weak Lubitsch musical effort, with Hopkins stealing the show from the sleepwalking Chevalier and Colbert. The film's problem is above all a structural one: the film ends where it should have begun, in those last twenty minutes when the two women finally meet and cavort. By the time the film wakes up and starts delivering on its promise, it's over.
My Vote: Bad Girl
