Dancers in the Dark (1932)

This is part of Hot and Bothered: The Films of 1932 Blogathon hosted by Aurora at Once Upon a Screen and Theresa at CineMaven's Essays from the Couch. For more steamy posts, click Day 1 and Day 2.

The Task

*To write about a film from 1932
*I chose Dancers in the Dark sight unseen because of the topic (dancers!) and Miriam Hopkins.

The Film

In the film, taxi dancer Gloria (Miriam Hopkins) and saxophone player Floyd (William Collier Jr.) are in love and want to get married. He is willing to forgive her past, which may be worse than he thinks, but he insists he doesn't need to know. Bandleader Duke (Jack Oakie) grew up with Floyd and sees him as a brother. He believes Floyd deserves better than the fallen Gloria. Duke arranges for Floyd to take a four-week out-of-town job, hoping his absence will cause Gloria to reveal her true colors. Side note: At one time, Duke was also in love with Gloria, and she had a crush on him.

Miriam Hopkins, William Collier Jr., Jack Oakie

Unresolved Love Triangles

Part of January Viewing

When two handsome men are vying for your affection, what's a gal to do? If you're Jean Arthur, you bask in the attention. If you are pre-code Miriam Hopkins, however, you take the triangle as far as it can go--all the way. 

In Design for Living (1933), Gilda (Hopkins) meets a pair of struggling artists, painter George (Gary Cooper) and playwright Tom (Frederic March). Both make her tingle--one from toe to head, the other head to foot, and she cannot decide whom she likes best. So what does she do? Moves in with them to act as their muse. Nothing more per a "Gentleman's Agreement." It works fine until Tom is called away on business and carnal desire proves too strong for the remaining two.

Hopkins dramatically proclaims, "I am no gentleman."

The triad is broken up. Gilda and George go one way, Tom the other. All is well until Tom turns up one day while George is away. Gilda's bell still rings for Tom--figuratively and literally--she really does ring the bell of his old typewriter.  

All that is needed to land March in the sack: a little ring-a-ding-ding.

Pre-code Portrayals of Taxi Dancers

This is part of the Classic Movie History Project Blogathon hosted by Movies Silently, Silver Screenings, and Once Upon a Screen and sponsored by Flicker Alley. To read more amazing posts covering film history, click here.

Note: There will be spoilers in this post.

Since the beginning, dance has been a part of the movies. Dance hall girls in particular can be found in films as early as the 1910s with such pictures as Should a Wife Forgive? (1915) and One Touch of Sin (1917). Films such as the Joan Crawford's Taxi Dancer (1927)--her first top billing by the way--reflected the dance hall's evolution into a dime-a-dance establishment. At ten cents a song, dance hall patrons could select the "hostess" with whom they wanted to dance. (Employees were typically women, but there was the occasional establishment with male hosts. These would not make it to film.) Because their time was "rented" much like one might rent a taxi, these women were referred to as taxi dancers. For a society that had only recently accepted the idea of a man holding a woman closely in his arms while dancing, paying to do so was scandalous--a hop, skip, and jump away from prostitution. And yet it wasn't. Dance halls provided filmmakers a setting just dangerous enough to tantalize their audience but safe enough to show on screen without public protest.

In terms of taxi dancers and societal attitudes, two pre-code films that are interesting to consider are Columbia's Ten Cents a Dance (1931) and Warner Brothers' Two Seconds (1932). Released within a year of each other, they give distinctly different portrayals of dime-a-dance gals.

A little music to get you in the mood. 

The song was written for Ziegfeld's Broadway musical, Simple Simon. 

The musical was not a success. The song, on the other hand, was. 

Ten Cents a Dance (1931)

Ten Cents a Dance was inspired by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart's song of the same name. Written from a taxi dancer's perspective, Hart's lyrics bemoan the trials of the profession. Traces of the song can easily be found in the film resulting in a sympathetic portrait of the dime-a-dance girl.

The film gets straight to the point with Barbara O'Neill (Barbara Stanwyck) standing at the edge of a dance floor appearing bored. A sailor picks her up for a dance. He brags that his paycheck comes in tomorrow, but she is not impressed. Clearly he is not the first to try this line on her. She leaves the floor, claiming that she is wanted on the phone. In the back room, Barbara meets the new girl (Sally Blane, better known as Loretta Young's sister) who is confused by the matron's instructions on how to dance:

She told me to be very careful. And yet she sort of gave me the idea she wanted me to be not so careful. She told me...uh...well to be intimate, intimate but ladylike.

Barbara listens but doesn't offer an explanation. (Is this a case of ignorance is bliss--no matter how temporary?) In the next scene, she meets Bradley Carlton (Ricardo Cortez), a customer who gave her $100 just for sitting with him. For him, she breaks down the matron's job:

She's got to keep the place hot enough to avoid bankruptcy and cold enough to avoid raids.

Ah, now the audience understands. The goal of the dime girl is to live up to standards that contradict each other and therefore are impossible to meet.

In case there were any doubts as to what went on behind the $100, Barbara reiterates that she can't figure out Brad because after visiting the dance hall three times, he hasn't once propositioned her. In other words, propositions are a daily nuisance in the life of a taxi dancer. 

It seems like a Cinderella story: the poor gal who works at a dance hall because her "brains are in [her] feet" meets the wealthy man who gives away money without asking for anything in return. If it were that simple though, there wouldn't be a movie. 

Stanwyck via DoctorMacro

Barbara has already given away her heart to a neighbor, Eddie Miller (Monroe Owsley), though he doesn't know it. She also gives her $100 to him when she discovers he is in a jam. Eddie accepts the cash. The two go on a picnic the next day and he asks about her job. Ashamed, she keeps her profession a secret, telling him that she is a dance instructor. The subject is dropped and Eddie calls her an angel. The way Stanwyck repeats the word quietly, almost to herself, shows that this may be the first time her character has been called the term in earnest. Her ears are accustomed to the harsher words of dance hall patrons. In this one moment, Stanwyck is able to show us why her character has fallen for this parasite. 

When Eddie finds out where Barbara actually works, he is outraged. He calls the place a "dump" and expresses disgust in the notion that any man could hold her for ten cents. (Ironically, he didn't begin to show affection towards Barbara until after she had given him money.) Barbara tries to explain that the dance hall isn't as bad as he thinks. Eddie will have none of it and indirectly proposes marriage. She consents, which means she needs to break it off with Brad for good.

The dialogue that most closely resembles Rodger and Hart's song comes by way of Barbara's good-bye to Brad. Before they part, she describes what it's like dancing with taxi hall patrons:

He mauls you around and steps on your toes and tears your dresses and breaths into your face. He has a pocket full of dimes and only one idea in his head.

Barbara will not miss her job. 

Oh, and if audience failed to catch it the first two times, Barbara repeats, "When you gave me that $100, it was the first time in my life I ever took something for nothing." The writers want to drive the idea home, yet the statement also implies that maybe not all of her dances have been so innocent.

Eddie turns out to be a good-for-nothing gambler and cheater who won't admit he is married. He stays out late and is verbally abusive to Barbara. When there is not enough money to pay the bills, she secretly goes back to work at the hall. The signs are there, but Barbara doesn't discover Eddie's true character until the end. When she does, she gives him the heave-ho with words that bite, delivering the lines as only Stanwyck can:

You're not a man. You're not even a good sample.

She reunites with Brad, her "prince" (to use the words in Hart's lyrics). The message of this tale? Maybe the best place to meet your ideal mate is on the dance floor. Well, at least don't be too hasty to rule it out. Anything is possible.

Two Seconds (1932)

Where Ten Cents a Dance tells the woes of taxi dancers, Two Seconds warns of their danger. The film is told in flashback as the main character is executed in an electric chair. The narrative is based on the premise that in the time it takes to be electrocuted (two seconds), one's entire life can flash before his or her eyes. The film does a magnificent job utilizing sound to periodically remind the audience that a man is being electrocuted. As scenes transition, sounds mimic the chair's surging electricity: the buzzing of a drill, pounding of a drum, fizzing of a soda machine, squealing of a radio, humming of a fan. Brilliant.

The story tells of the demise of John Allen (Edward G. Robinson), a working class Joe who represents the everyman. He may not be rich, but he has money in the bank, food on the table, and lofty ideals. He doesn't gamble or waste time on "dames" like his careless roommate, Bud Clark (Preston Foster, who reprised his role from the Broadway play). This changes when John's path crosses with a taxi dancer named Shirley Day (Vivienne Osborne).

At first, Shirley appears similar to Barbara O'Neill. The audience witnesses what Barbara only alluded to in Ten Cents: a dance patron "mauls" Shirley and claims she owes it to him because he paid a dime to dance with her. (I love her witty retort, "You paid to dance with your feet, not your hands." You tell 'em, Shirley!) The hall manager apologizes to the patron and sends her back onto the floor with John who has accidentally wandered into the hall. John tells Shirley how she seems different from the others. She thinks he is feeding her line, revealing how common it is for men to try to trick her into bed. While John gets more tickets, another patron attempts to "play around" with her. Though it is already evident that she can take care of herself, John feels the need to rescue her, punching the guy. Shirley gets fired.

John takes her to a soda shop, where he sums up his righteous opinion about her profession:

That's what's the trouble with your job. You know, it makes a guy think you're...well, what he said you were. You hadn't outta work there anymore.

Shirley insists she is "decent" and explains that she can make more money working at the hall than any other career. (Research shows this is true.) She tells of sick parents whom she supports and mentions that she is scared about "being all alone in New York without any money." Up to this point, Shirley has been a fairly sympathetic character. Something is fishy though when she begins the damsel in distress act and perks up upon hearing about John's steady paycheck. It is significant to note that Barbara of Ten Cents was not swayed by money. Maybe the two characters are not as similar as originally thought to be... 

Seeing that John is impressed by an education, Shirley spins a yarn about wanting to go back to night school, but refuses John's offer to get her a job in a factory. She explains, "Oh no, that wouldn't give me time to study." Suspicion confirmed. Osborne's taxi dancer is the polar opposite of Stanwyck's. She is everything the audience had ever heard about dime-a-dance girls. And perhaps worse.

I know your kind. And so do lots of other guys, I bet. 

Bud sizes Shirley up in no time. Apparently it takes one sleaze to know another. (Earlier in the film, Bud has no qualms cheating on his steady.) At the same time, we are not meant to feel that Bud is all that sleazy. His faults are forgiven, Shirley's are not. Double standard.

Shirley sees to it that she gets hitched to John...and his $62.50 a week. Her spot in the sun is short lived, however, when John loses his job and goes a little crazy (it's a long story; check out Kristina's excellent review of the film here for the 411 on what happened). Like Barbara, Shirley has to go back to work at the dance hall to support her husband. Unlike the Ten Cents character, she has no problem flaunting this in her husband's face. She enjoys the power that comes with being the breadwinner. Another reason she stays married to him? 

I've found out that a missus can get away with things that a miss can't. 

The line is a slap across the face and makes sure we know she's rotten to the core. Our sympathy is supposed to lay with John who is facing a fate worse than death: living off his wife's dirty dance hall money. To make things right, he murders her then explains to the judge,"I sunk as low as a guy could get." To be clear, he's not talking about the murder. 

John has completely lost it, and we know whom to blame: Beauty. If she had only stayed home and wallowed in poverty along side him, everything would have been okay. Watching Robinson's intense dramatics, the audience begins to fully comprehend what a grievous sin Shirley has committed. Let this be a warning to the little ladies of the house: Don't do this to your husband!  

Vivienne Osborne (from the movie trailer)

And yet I still feel kind of sorry for the dame that was shot...


Lessons Learned

If you really want to get your hubby mad, work in a dance hall. Better yet, support him with the money from said hall. Use this information at your own discretion. 

Just kidding....

Taxi Dancer (Life Mag, 1937)

In all seriousness, though, the audience learns the evil of dance halls. Both films reveal that society viewed this type of establishment as a "dump" (the term used in both movies) that no decent girl would want to work in. 

On the other hand, a gal could make a good living out of being a dance hostess. Money meant more power and independence. Virtuous or rotten, these working women, who could pay the bills and buy nice clothes without the aid of men, were threats to the male ego. Which begs the question, is this why dance halls were portrayed negatively at a time when jobs were scarce?  

Sources

AFI Catalog of Feature Films. Web. 25 June 2015.

Cressy, Paul Goalby. The Taxi-Dance Hall: A Socialization Study in Commercialized Recreation & City Life. 1932. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2008. Web. 14 March 2015.

Mordden, Ethan. Make Believe: The Broadway Musical in the 1920s.  New York: Oxford University Press, 1997.

2015 TCM Film Festival ~ Day Two

This is a continuation of my adventure at the 2015 TCM Film Festival. Read about the first day here. 

Day Two - A Couple of Hollywood Gals

After our late night adventure, I was torn between sleep and Why Be Good? (1929) the following morning. Raquel's (Out of the Past Blog) review of the silent greatly peaked my curiosity in the film and its flapper star, Colleen Moore. The TCM showing was the perfect excuse to finally see it. On the other hand, my stomach had not settled since the drive down, so a good breakfast might do it well. Plus, I wasn't sure how mom would feel about seeing a silent. For that matter, I wasn't even sure how I felt about sitting through a full length silent, no multitasking, full attention--I had never done it. Was I ready for this big step? And my stomach.... I rolled over and went back to sleep. Coward. Oh well, just as long as we made it to:

From the get go, 42nd Street (1933) was my one non-negotiable, absolute must see movie of the festival. The thought of seeing those elaborate Busby Berkeley numbers on the big screen thrilled me. Not to mention Ruby Keeler dancing and Dick Powell singing. This is where it all started. The birth of the big budget musical. 

Unfortunately, the gods of comedy thought it would be funny to send me a screwball kind of weekend fitting of the films I so often enjoy. After waking up later than intended, I skipped breakfast because there was no way in heck I was going to miss 42nd Street. A few bites of fruit should do the trick, right? Mom and I rushed downstairs to wait for our transportation: Uber. The bustling Friday night life had been replaced by a serene silence--brrrrrumm--by a serene silen--brrrrumm--by the buzzing of jackhammers? Yes, jackhammers, orange cones, and men in hard hats. We were staying at hotel in downtown LA, and what better time to do construction than on a weekend when the week's workers were at home? Mom's cellphone rang. In all his wisdom of LA's great grid, our Uber driver could not find us in the maze of one-way streets and construction zones. Oh, and by the way we were carpooling, so ours would not be his first stop. Forehead to palm of hand.

Mom and I walked to the non-construction side of the hotel. As we peered at each passing car's license plate in search of our ride, the thought crossed my mind that we must look like the prior evening's women of the night minus the spandex. I had to chuckle. The Uber eventually arrived and dropped us in front of Grauman's Theatre. We hustled up the stairs and found our spot at the back of the line. Before the TCM lady would give us our place-holder numbers, she asked to see our passes. Sure, no problem, we thought. She took a quick gander at them and informed us that we were in the wrong line. Huh? 

I am ashamed to admit it, especially since much of my job is to read and relate correct information, but I misunderstood the perimeters of our passes. I thought all of the Chinese Grauman screens were included under the TCL Chinese Grauman Theatre IMAX umbrella. (This has been the case with the Fathom screenings I have attended in my home town.) 42nd Street was in the Chinese Multiplex House. Oops. I guess it was just as well that we slept in and missed Why Be Good? We were directed to the standby line where we would have to pay $20 to get in. If there were seats available. Bummer. Not willing to let this get me down in the happiest place on earth for classic movie fans, I searched for the sunny side of the street. According to the festival programming guide, there were 477 seats in House #1, so we should get in. And at least this would narrow our film choices significantly; we were only paying for absolute must-sees. No heart-wrenching decisions between two beloved films for us. 

Our line began to move. We were going to get in! "Shuffle Off to Buffalo" rose to my lips but was cut off by the words "$20 cash". Cash? What is this thing called "cash"? Mom scrambled through her purse and after a bit of digging, she fished out two twenty-dollar bills. (Thank you, Laura for your 'public service' tweet about the Egyptian Theatre's cash only snack bar. I relayed the message to my mom, which is why she had cash on her.)

Even though we were one of the last to enter the theatre, we found phenomenal seats. Christine Ebersole, who played Dorothy Brock in the Broadway version of the movie, introduced the film. She pointed out the play she performed in was an anomaly--typically movies pattern themselves after popular Broadway shows, not the other way around. The film was as fabulous as expected and worth the obstacles to get there. The dialogue was snappy and sexy. (For once, I was able to hear all of it without the interruption of children squealing through the room during the day or me playing remote volleyball* while the children sleep at night.) The pre-codeness of the lines had us in stitches:

Lorraine - You remember Ann Lowell.

Andy - Not Anytime Annie? Say, who could forget her? She only said no once, and then she didn't hear the question.

*remote volleyball - the act of going back and forth with the remote's volume: down when music is loud, then up when dialogue comes on, and down again when the music returns; ultimately results in missed pieces of dialogue
 
A lot of the fun came by way of the secondary actors, who made the audience laugh without saying a word. Witness Una Merkel's and George E. Stone's facial expressions (much clearer on the big screen than my YouTube screenshots), which tell the story behind their relationship. It's not love keeping them together:

 She wants to make sure he sees her among the gals auditioning. 

He does. Can you tell how thrilled he is?

She plays it off in front of the gals, but Una's facial expression shows what is really going on. 
She's using him for a job, and he's using her for some nooky.

And then there was Busby Berkeley's genius: 

Need I say more?

With a tender tummy and movie choices eliminated, it was as good a time as any to grab some chow. We headed over to Mel's Drive-In. The diner is modeled after the one featured in American Graffiti (1973). In fact, the picture at our booth featured Candy Clark, Charles Martin Smith, and Ron Howard from the film:

I soooo wanted a burger, but my stomach was having none of that. Instead I opted for the tomato soup and grill cheese special. Not bad for a second option. The food was delicious, the waitress hilarious, and the atmosphere had a vintage vibe. I would definitely go back.

Outside I was not feeling the craziness of Hollywood Boulevard. I needed a quiet place to sit and just be. And what better place than the watering hole of classic Hollywood?

(Okay, maybe not their watering hole--that would be 

the Brown Derby or Chasen's, but just go with me here...)

At last, our timing was perfect. The book signing I was curious about was in progress. I got to peruse the book (Mike Kaplan's Gotta Dance: The Art of the Dance Movie Poster), pick up some souvenirs, then sink into a comfy chair and relax. I'm pretty sure I spotted some bloggers, but felt too socially awkward to introduce myself. Besides, I'm relatively new to the blogging world and didn't want to interrupt their conversations.

After a while, my twitter feed was abuzz with people who were already lining up for The Apartment (1960)--not surprising considering Shirley MacLaine would be the guest of honor. Off we went to the grand Grauman's Chinese Theatre.

We snagged the last spots before the front line was roped off. The people who followed us would have to wait upstairs. I was an unashamed tourist, taking pictures of the theatre's exterior and the footprints below us. Mom and I visited with Lynn from Classic Movie Favorites who, as luck would have it, was standing next to us in line. Then the moment came. We were in the presence of a great film star. Shirley MacLaine. Wow. She was frank, funny, and did she say she slept with Jack Lemmon? Anyone else catch that? I digress. It was interesting to hear how the moments that unfold so naturally on the screen came to be. MacLaine shared how Wilder motivated her to tears by degrading her acting skills, and how in other parts, she pulled on memories of a bad relationship to help her emote her character's pain. This was the first time I saw The Apartment in its entirety. Lemmon, as always, was endearing despite his character's flaws. MacLaine's pain felt genuine. And Fred MacMurray? Well, he came across as the jerk he was supposed to be. I can see why Matthew Weiner required his Mad Men actors to watch the Manhattan apartment-motel movie in preparation for bringing their characters to life (Vanity Fair).

Monroe's dress from Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

After the movie, we took some pictures of the costumes in the theatre's lobby. Then we decided to call it a night so we could wake up fresh for Calamity Jane the next morning. As we waited for our Uber ride--who for some reason could not find us although we were in front of the historic Roosevelt Hotel--I ran into Aurora from Once Upon a Screen. It was a real treat chatting with her. I love her idea of wearing twitter handle pins so we can easily recognize each other next year. She also gave me the lowdown on nearby hotels, which was much appreciated considering all of mom's and my Ubering troubles. We eventually made it back to the hotel safe and sound.

Come back soon for the conclusion of our TCM Film Festival adventure.  

A Marriage of Convenience

This is part of the 2015 Pre-Code Blogathon hosted by Danny at Pre-code.com and Karen at Shadows and Satin. Read more fantastic posts by clicking here.

The acting is rough, the sound and lighting need work, but for anyone who has ever been thrown over for someone new, Consolation Marriage (1931) is just what the doctor ordered. The film has not one, but two thwarted lovers looking for someone with whom to drown their sorrows.

The movie opens on an overjoyed Steve Porter (Pat O'Brien) en route to marry his long time sweetheart Elaine (Myrna Loy). He arrives at Elaine's abode only to have her inform him, rather unaffectedly, that she was married the Tuesday prior. Steve is sunk and does what many a brokenhearted soul would do: he gets good and drunk and stays that way--at least until he meets Mary (Irene Dunne). But more on their meeting in a moment...

Like Steve, Mary has been jilted by her amour. Aubrey (Lester Vail) is a struggling pianist who has decided to advance his career through marriage to a wealthy Mrs. (the film does not indicate if the woman is widowed or divorced). Mary is the stereotypical good sport. Without tears or fight, she allows Aubrey to profess his love to her though his bride-to-be waits in the car below. Instead, Mary chooses to say "good-bye with a smile." 

Later that evening, Steve introduces himself to Mary in a bar. There is some talk regarding whether or not the unchaperoned Mary is a "nice" girl (virgin/whore dichotomy surfacing), which in a roundabout way brings the characters to the realization that they are in the same boat love-wise. (She explains that she is without a chaperone because he [Aubrey] is getting married to another.) Mary comments that she is ready for her entitled good cry, and Steve offers to join her.

 Clip via TCM.com.

Misery loves company, and no one can commiserate like another person fresh off a breakup. It is no surprise then when Steve and Mary begin spending time together, discussing how their former flames understood them like none other. In lighter moments, they banter back and forth naturally, laughing and enjoying each other's company. On one of their outings, Steve and Mary adopt a dog. This leads to an impromptu proposal from Steve, who wants the pup to have a proper home. And here is where the pre-code shines through the script:

Steve suggests that their marriage be one of no obligations. If it doesn't turn out, they simply leave with a "good-bye and good luck"--no questions asked. Mary likes the idea and agrees. They even liken marriage to a football game. No harm, no foul. An incredibly radical idea for the day, and I would venture to say that it still is. Despite the high divorce rate (or perhaps as evidenced by it because we are too quick to fall in the first place) in the USA, we tend to marry with the intent of staying married.

The film wastes no time showing that Steve and Mary's marriage is indeed one of convenience and not flaming passion. Tokens of their ex-loves remain present in their home: Aubrey's wedding gift of a cupid clock and Elaine's hearts-and-flowers handkerchief. Even so, Steve and Mary's union produces a child, which means they were, ya know, doing it even though they weren't in love. This is another clear mark of pre-code movie making.

Elaine comes back into the picture. In a note to Steve, she explains that her marriage has failed (surprise!), and she is getting a divorce. Mary has caught on, and though she puts on a brave front, we can tell (via Irene's facial expression, no words necessary) she is worried about losing her husband. A similar note arrives from Aubrey, and Mary jumps at the "chance at happiness." As Mary prepares to leave Steve and their daughter, she reasons with the baby, explaining that "a baby is only an episode in a woman's life," and she would think her mother foolish if she gave up the chance for happiness because of traditional values. Suitcase in tow, Mary ends up at Aubrey's apartment.

*** Spoilers Ahead ***

Up to now, Mary has touted a carefree attitude, and for beat, it looks as though the unconventional marriage will reign supreme. However, it doesn't take Mary long to realize that she has changed. Life does that. Aubrey and his tunes are no longer enough.  "My baby needs me," she explains to her befuddled ex-beau, "Or I need my baby. I don't know which." Mary rushes home. She has forever closed the door on her past love, knowing full well that Steve may not do the same when he gets his turn.

Mary doesn't have to wait long for this to happen. On Steve's invitation, Elaine shows up on her doorstep that evening.  She stands poised and confident, the perfect homewrecker played by the woman who would later be typecasted as the perfect wife. Although Loy got her start in roles as the other woman, I'll admit it was kind of weird seeing the future Mrs. Charles swoop in to steal another character's husband. In true martyr fashion, Mary prepares Elaine for Steve, going so far as to powder Elaine's back and fix her hair.

Elaine goes to Steve, and he takes her into the garden. While she talks of moonlight, Steve relates what he and Mary have been planning to do with the yard. To Elaine, love still exists in the abstract--the beauty of the night, the bursting of bubbles. Steve, on the other hand, has moved beyond their childhood poetry and into the concrete. Love is an action not an abstract noun. He excuses himself from Elaine and returns to Mary who has been crying in their daughter's room.

In the end, Mary and Steve discover they have misplaced their romantic yearning and are in fact in love with each other. While the ending seems traditional, it is pre-code (im)morality that permits their enlightenment. The fruit is never forbidden, so each reaches awareness in their own time. Fortunately for them, they have similar timing. Magic of Hollywood. Not sure that would work in real life.

Nonetheless...there is something I love about this movie. Maybe it's the friends to lovers formula. (I'm a sucker for When Harry Met Sally.) Or it could be the more mature viewpoint that true love is not always found in fireworks, but silently blossoms over time, in the everyday ordinary. Either way, Consolation Marriage has become a guilty pleasure. 

Now if only the film would be digitally remastered on DVD...

Currently Consolation Marriage is only available on VHS.

'30s Career Girls and Marriage

Sometimes the occasional rogue woman will try to "live like a man," finding contentment in her career. This week I examine what happens in a pair of films from the 1930s.

• Female (1933) - What a dazzling display of girl power! Alison Drake (Ruth Chatterton) is the CEO of a large company and runs it with finesse and efficiency. She also treats men as they so often treat women. One by one, she invites her male employees home to "talk business." She sets the mood with music and Vodka and has her fun with them. The following morning, she dismisses them at the office. When they become "jealous, moody men," she transfers them out of state. Her career is her life, and she loves it.

  

  Chatterton in Female - LOVE this powerful dress!

  She meets her match in Jim Throne (George Brent), who is not so easily seduced. He chides her for thinking she's above "love and children, the things women were born for" (ah yes, the every girl should marry message in the movies). Alison is converted. She misses an important meeting to fetch her man and let him know she is his. Girl power? In the end she gives it all up, a gift to the man she wants to marry. Jim will run the business, and she'll run the home--complete with nine children. Now, I'm not advocating women use and abuse men, but the movie's ending was a bit of a let down. So much for the image of a powerful woman... 

• Ann Carver's Profession (1933) - Here is another woman who loves her career. Ann Carver (Fay Wray) is "aching to go to work" instead of hanging around the home all day. Her husband Bill (Gene Raymond) approves until she gets a $5000 bonus for a court win compared to his measly $10 raise. Bill's delicate male ego is further bruised when he gets no love from his workaholic wife while she entertains business associates. (Hmmm....interesting double standard here. If it was he who entertained, would she be allowed a complaint? I think not.) Ann tries to smooth things over with her unhappy hubby. And behold--a pleasant surprise--she actually admits that she would be lying if she said she wanted to give up her career. Poor guy (ha!) feels forced to take a job as a crooner to make more money and give up his architect job in the process. It is her boss's (Claude Gillingwater) turn to dole out the advice, "a man can't stand the burden of obligation. Especially to a wife." (Good golly--really?!)
  
  Long story short, Bill becomes linked to a murder, and his wife must come to the rescue. In her final plea to the jury she blames herself for her husband falling into bad company. She believes she deserves the jury's "contempt" rather than her husband "for her blindness and stupidity." She explains she was like a "machine" with her work and "drove him out." She asks the jury to "pity any woman who has the most precious thing in life and blindly sacrificed it." She announces that the conclusion of the case will also be the end of her career as it has brought her "nothing but heartache and despair." Bill is found not guilty, she gives up her career, and they live happily ever after. Message? Career girls and marriage don't mix.

Join me next week as I continue to explore Career Girls and Marriage during the 1940s.

Every Girl Should Be Married

Sinatra & Reynolds

For better or worse, movies have been telling us that matrimonial bliss is the key to true happiness. More specifically, it--along with children--are the only way for a woman to be truly fulfilled. Men, on the other hand, might be content to live out their bachelor lives, finding satisfaction in their careers and multiple visitors in their beds. Therefore, the message goes, it is up to the woman to resort to trickery to help her chosen mate realize domestic bliss. A few examples through the decades:

• Double Harness (1933) - Joan (Ann Harding), who is on verge of spinsterhood, declares, "Marriage is a woman's business," and goes about getting herself hitched. She arranges for her father to catch her with her boyfriend (William Powell) in a compromising situation, resulting in their "forced" marriage. Both find happiness when they discover they are also in love with each other. 

• Every Girl Should Be Married (1948) - When Anabel (Betsy Drake) sets her sights on Madison (Cary Grant), an unmarried doctor, she does not have the pre-code convenience of being found in a negligee in Madison's apartment. No worries--she has many other tricks up her sleeve, including inciting all the women attending one of Madison's lectures to admit they used trickery to trap their husbands. Speaking of which... 

• The Tender Trap (1955) - At this point in cinematic history, husband-trapping is a fact of life, so why not make a humorous romp of it? Like Powell's and Grant's characters, Charlie (Frank Sinatra) is a confirmed bachelor and there is a woman, Julie (Debbie Reynolds), with designs to snare him. Julie's plan doesn't succeed in the short run, but by the end of the movie--and a quick lapse of a year--Charlie proposes to her. All is well that ends well.

• Sunday in New York (1963) - Eileen (Jane Fonda) goes to her brother (Cliff Robertson) to find out "what the right procedure is in snaring a suitable man for the laudable purpose of making a home together and life with children and church-going and growing old together as is mentioned in both testaments and many other highly respected sources." Translation: she needs help attaining that highest womanly goal--holy matrimony. Unlike Joan of the early 30s, she is not willing to put out to get a proposal. And unfortunately the ploys of Anabel and Julie have not worked either. The trap is in question not whether to trap. Because what else would a single twenty-two year old American gal do?  

In 2003, the whimsical Down With Love paid homage to this favorite movie plot of yesteryear, that of the great lengths women go in order to snag a husband. At the same time, it is poking fun too. *spoiler alert* 

We find out the events that have unfolded throughout the movie are part of Barbara's (Renee Zellweger) elaborate scheme to entrap Catcher Block (Ewan McGregor). This updated version contends with another factor, though: her career, which is put on equal footing with--if not higher than--marriage. Well, almost... Come back next week for a look at Career Girls and Marriage.

If you could be a TCM Guest Programmer...

Yesterday's TCM Facebook feed asked what movies we would choose given the opportunity to be a Guest Programmer. I thought, Oh yeah, I've got this. That is until it dawned on me that Guest Programmers only choose four movies. Four movies? How could any lover of classic movies choose only four movies???

A self-proclaimed organizational nerd (and proud of it), I opened up a Word doc and began to list personal favorites as well as those that anyone new to old movies should see (the educator coming out in me). My thoughts raced. Every golden decade ('30s-'60s) should be represented. A screwball comedy should be there. And everyone should see the fabulous pairing of Fred and Ginger. 

Oh and a musical. A bonafide, all out, glorious Technicolor, dance routines and catchy songs musical. And what about Hitchcock? 

Hitchcock definitely deserves a place. And the list needs to be rounded out by a '60s sex comedy. Not to mention some of the movies I love just because. The narrowing down of the list, movie versus movie, began to look like my hubby's Super Bowl bracket and still I was not satisfied. It was a case of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie: 

if you give a gal a choice of four movies, she's going to want to add another musical. If she adds another musical, she's going to want to add a film noir. Add if she's adds a film noir, she will be taking over TCM's programming for a day (or two).

Fortunately in this little corner of the internet, my list can encompass more than four films. For readers who are new to classic films, here is a list to get you started. And for those of you who have mileage under your belt, I'm interested in hearing your input. So without much further ado, here are a dozen recommendations:

Pre-code - Made prior to the Hays Code, which strictly censored movies from mid '30s to early '60s. For the new viewer these movies will appear shockingly modern in their content. (Confession: I'm relatively new to these, so the pool of movies I'm pulling from is rather small.)

1. Consolation Marriage (1931) - Story focuses on a marriage not for love, but for convenience with the mindset that divorce is an option at any time (yet the wife gets pregnant, which means this non-loving couple must have...gasp!). Features: Irene Dunne's first starring role and blonde pre-Thin Man Myrna Loy,  unfortunately not available on DVD 

2. Finishing School (1934) - Story was written prior to but released after strict enforcement of Hays Code, so some of the 'naughtiness' is implied rather than straight out told. Drinking ladies, pre-marital sex, and abortion are some of the taboo subjects hinted upon in this film. Features: Ginger Rogers in an early non-dancing role

Screwball Comedy - Known for its crazy antics, it will require you to suspend belief, but if you play along, oh the fun you will have! 

3. Bringing Up Baby (1938) - This is the quintessential screwball comedy with non-stop sticky situations and laughter waiting around every corner. Features: the great Kate Hepburn and debonaire Cary Grant (two very important Golden Age stars)

And this is only part of the fun...

Fred Astaire & Ginger Rogers - The greatest dance team ever to grace the celluloid deserves their own category. (For the greatest single dance routine, see Astaire and Eleanor Powell tapping to "Begin the Beguine" in Broadway Melody of 1940.) 

4. Follow the Fleet (1936) - When it comes to this team, you can't go wrong with any of their pairings, so I went with my favorite. Why am I partial to this one? Nautical theme (I may have a few rooms decorated in said motif *wink *wink), message of the songs "Let Yourself Go" (yes, everyone should dance!) and "Let's Face the Music and Dance" (again dancing is the answer--can you tell I like to dance?? sure it's metaphorical, but it doesn't have to be--just look at Fred and Ginger), and fabulous '30s fashion. I could go on, but this is getting a little long.  Features: Betty Grable and Lucille Ball before they were famous, Harriet before she was Harriet Nelson, and pre-cowboy Randolph Scott

World War II Films - Okay, so I created this category just so I can include two of my all-time favorites. From film to fashion, I am a little obsessed with this time period.  

5. Casablanca (1942) - I hate to be cliche, but this is simply the greatest movie ever made. I'm a dialogue person and this movie doesn't waste one word. Every line adds to the characters' relationships and pushes the plot forward. The film leaves the audience with a great message that stretches beyond war propaganda and into any era: do the right thing no matter what the personal costs. And then there's that lovely last line, which if you think about it, is really redefining 'family' and in so doing offers hope despite the tears. 

6. More the Merrier (1943) - From drama to comedy... I saw this movie for the first time several years ago and laughed the whole way through. Watch for the hilarious doorstep scene when Joel McCrea's and Jean Arthur's characters are necking; it's like he has eight arms and she's battling to keep them off her. (I'm sure many a girl can relate.) Of course, she's only resisting because she has a fiancé. In the end...well, you can imagine what happens. [Side note - Turns out McCrea was a total hunk when he was younger. Who knew?] Features: suggestive split screen over fifteen years prior to Pillow Talk's famous scene

From More the Merrier

Hitchcock - Must see because everyone should know why Hitchcock is known as the Master of Suspense.

7. Lifeboat (1944) - This is another category where you really can't go wrong with the Hitch movie you choose. This lesser known film is one of my favorites. Why? For one thing, I've always identified with Tallulah Bankhead's character: a tough writer who arms herself with a typewriter and lipstick. She even finds a little romance before the closing credits (or rather, romance finds her...by now you may sense that I'm a sucker for romance). The whole movie takes place in a boat with an array of characters who normally would not associate with each other. Awesome set up and the first of its kind. The viewer wonders, How is Hitch going to pull off a story with such a limited setting? And more importantly, how is he going to make his legendary cameo? Well, it works and he does, but you're going to have to watch the film to find out how. 

Film Noir - Crime drama known for detectives, femme fatales, and stylized black and white cinematography. I might have some backlash from movie buffs on my choices here. These are just my personal favorites. Other films I considered: The Big Sleep (1946), The Blue Dahlia (1946) and The Third Man (1949).

8. Double Indemnity (1944) - Barbara Stanwyck not only pulls Fred MacMurray into her web, but also the viewer. This was the first movie I saw where I realized I was rooting for the bad guy. Reality check. But I bet you will too. [Side note - Growing up watching Fred MacMurray in reruns of "My Three Sons" and Disney movies such as The Shaggy Dog, I was surprised to find out he was kind of sexy - see Millionaire for Christy (1951) for further example of said sexiness.] 

9. Gilda (1946) - It's worth the view if only to understand what Rita Hayworth meant when she famously said, "Men fell in love with Gilda, but they wake up with me." The role haunted her for the rest of her life, becoming a factor in her downward spiral as she tried to cope with the image it helped create. There is a love triangle in the movie, killer lines, and of course, Rita at her sexiest. The fiery relationship between Glenn Ford's and Rita's characters as well as the one between Ford's and George Macready's lends itself to some interesting discussions for those of us who love to analyze films. Watch for Rita's rendition of "Put the Blame on Mame" sung only to the washroom attendant. She acts it (I say "acts" because her singing voice was actually dubbed) with such sadness, you can't help but feel that her character personally knows what it is like to have blame misplaced on her. There is a lot more going on than meets the eye.

Musical Comedy - Show tunes generally with a light, fluffy plot. Sunshine in a film canister. The stuff happiness is made of.

Cyd and Kelly--what a dance routine!
Look at those lines!

10. Singin' in the Rain (1952) - This has it all: vibrant Technicolor; brilliant dance routines featuring Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds, Donald O'Connor, and Cyd Charisse;  fabulous songs; plenty of comedy and a strong plot that recounts early Hollywood's transition to talkies. Jean Hagen is not too shabby either (you'll know what I mean when you see it).  

11. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) - I love this musical for sentimental reasons--it's a old favorite that my mom and I watch every time she's in town (or I'm over there). Listen to the lyrics; they  are incredibly funny and there is a lot of truth to them. While my mom was chuckling when Marilyn Monroe pointed to her derriere and sang, "Men grow cold/As girls grow old/And we all lose our charm in the end" (and after a few kids, I can appreciate the humor), we both understood the meaning behind, "Then someone broke my heart in Little Rock/So I up and left the pieces there [...] I came New York/And I found out/That men are the same way everywhere."  This spot on the movie list is all about passing on the fun from my mom and me to you.

Sixties Sex Comedy - Everybody is talking about sex in these movies, but nobody is having it.

12. Lover Come Back (1961) - This follow up to the successful Pillow Talk (1959), has Doris Day once again being duped by Rock Hudson's character. Fun because we know what Hudson really means when he tells Day's character, "I'm taking you in" complete with a big fish eating a little fish in the background--if you've missed this, look for it the next time you watch this film. Features: fab fashion like its predecessor, beautifully designed apartment (take note: yellows and whites with red and blue accents--even Day's outfits in the apartment match), Ann B. Davis (better known as Alice in "The Brady Bunch"), and Tony Randall  

This list is by no means complete. I know a western should be there somewhere and probably a campy sci-fi as well. I could have  included several holiday movies, but that is easily a list of its own (on which would be three notable names missing from this one--Jimmy Stewart, Judy Garland, and Bing Crosby), so I've saved that for another day.

Oh and those four choices? It wasn't easy, but I finally made up my mind and posted them--for better or worse--to TCM. What would your four be?