Men of the Thirties: 1939

And the Nominees Were:

Robert Donat - Goodbye, Mr. Chips
Clark Gable - Gone With the Wind
Laurence Olivier - Wuthering Heights
Mickey Rooney - Babes in Arms
James Stewart - Mr. Smith Goes To Washington

And the Winner Was:

Robert Donat - Goodbye, Mr. Chips

Gone With the Wind was the film of the year but I'd wager that Gable probably finished third and that the real tussle was between Donat and the nearly-as-saintly Stewart. Gable had won before and Donat was the only other guy previously nominated so probably a pretty standard victory.

My Ratings (in order of preference):-

**** James Stewart in Mr. Smith Goes To Washington

By the time Hitchcock's Rope and Ford's Liberty Valance rolled around James Stewart had the composed-logician-turns-dishevelled-activist act down to a tee, but it's none so effective than in Washington. Up against absurd establishmentarianism Stewart presents the ethics of Capra's film about corruption and coporate back-patting with a winningly gritty sense of underdog, palpably shaken by the rigid state of American politics and the apparent helplessness of its broken morality. It's similar to Cooper's turn as Longfellow Deeds, but while Deeds grappled with issues, Stewart's Jefferson Smith knows the issues and is distinctly unfamiliar with the protocol. A stranglehold of a performance, his eventual hair-tearing antics correlate with the assumed stance of the audience but don't undermine them. We're registering with Smith but he isn't such an assured vessel for the film's politics, and his over-eager desire to foist himself upon Washington and make an impression make his initial tentative steps into Senate life feel distinctly infantile.

**** Clark Gable in Gone With the Wind

Rhett Butler is both an elitist and a masogynist; even though his reputation is far from lofty and his success rate with women seems fairly enviable. Clark Gable proved that he was the perfect person to play the cocksure, non-committal Rhett, who believes he's above and beyond the hick mentality simply because he can get away with not doing an awful lot. Gable has to act opposite one of the best performances there's ever been, but don't be fooled. In a handful of scenes (particularly towards the end) the onus is upon him to turn the film's guilty indulgement of Scarlett O'Hara inside out, and give the film the kind of responsibility as an issue-driven melodrama that it very rarely feels the need to display. His drunken, rough seduction of Scarlett is a particular highlight; this man doesn't know how to be in a relationship or display vulnerability, and he sure as hell doesn't get any help from his other half.

** Robert Donat in Goodbye, Mr. Chips

I thought I was going to get away with ending this project without deeming a performance "hammy", and it's especially amusing that the term is not being used to describe one of the host of head-scatching performances by Paul Muni. Instead, the dishonour is bestowed upon Robert Donat, who plays the paternal schoolmaster Mr. Chips from his twenties to old-age and eventual death. Perhaps it's not so much Donat's fault as the off-putting facial hair he must navigate to get a word out? Nevertheless, the film gives him nothing to do but intersperse bits of tired wisdom to teenagers and occasionally well up with emotion at a moment of remeniscence. Points for effort but overall the turn came across as gimmicky and pedestrian.

* Laurence Olivier in Wuthering Heights

Even though I haven't read Bronte's "Wuthering Heights" it's plain to see that Wyler didn't do a great job with it. The film cuts from event to event with very little time for thought, and so one gets the impression that this version is stolidly faithful. Olivier's Heathcliff is by all accounts a brute, but you learn more about him through Merle Oberon's deft performance as Kathy than anything Sir Lawrence does. He lingers in the background of scenes like a neanderthal troll, and his Hunchback routine consists merely of staring at Kathy as if he'd just been deposited on this planet by an alien race. He fails to demonstrate either his feelings for the woman or the motivations of his character's questionable approach to marriage. Is Heathcliff underwritten here or just not done justice?

Unseen Nominees:-

Mickey Rooney in Babes in Arms

The Snubbed:-

**** Cary Grant in Only Angels Have Wings

As the boss of an air force outlet Grant's Geoff Carter reacts to the early death of a colleague quickly, there's no time for grief during war. It soon becomes apparent, however, that Carter has a similar approach to romance, and as Bonnie (Jean Arthur) does everything she can to make him say that he needs her he resists committing to anything but the job in hand. Only Angels Have Wings is of course a comedy (and a good one at that) but it's often sad, and Grant embodies the film's dynamism, screwball, and homage all at once, rousing people at their lowest and then skulking into resignation himself. A tour-de-force that doesn't come across as one, and a telling example of sociological impact of war.

*** John Wayne in Stagecoach

I have to admit to not much liking John Wayne -- his disarming brashness became a recycled part of his shtick well into the 1970's. At this very early point of his career he perhaps wasn't aware of what he needed to do to get by (the bare minimum for most of his films) and so he gives his character's plucky, reckless protector act a hint of desperation and backstory. If Wayne grew up in Western movies he wasn't quite a loner in 1939, and in Stagecoach his hostility is broader and deeper than a shrug and a trot.

Men of the Thirties: 1938

The Nominees Were:

Charles Boyer in Algiers
James Cagney in Angels With Dirty Faces
Robert Donat in The Citadel
Leslie Howard in Pygmalion
Spencer Tracy in Boys Town

And the Winner Was:

Spencer Tracy in Boys Town

(Spoiler Alert!)
I find this the most baffling decision of the decade. James Cagney's NYFCC-winning performance is far more interesting than any of his competitors, and he does everything asked of a Hollywood leading man i.e. have tough, masculine presence, a soft(ish) interior, and die a hero. The only missing link was the lack of a Best Picture nomination for Angels with Dirty Faces, which has its faults but is far more competent than some of the nominees (I'm looking at you, Capra and Taurog). I imagine this is the kind of decision that saw Katharine Hepburn win in 1967 and '81 and could have seen Jack Nicholson's touching but hardly worthy Warren Schmidt tie Kate's four-win record seven years ago. Cagney and Donat may have been close but both end up cigarless.

My Ratings (in order of preference):-

**** James Cagney in Angels with Dirty Faces

Akin to a bout of German expressionism James Cagney's Caligari eyes are fierce, and the strutting, plucky way that Cagney conducts himself indicates a man who means business. Angels with Dirty Faces is a deceptively light title for what becomes a rather heavy film, but it's an apt way to depict Rocky Sullivan and his band of criminal kids. Charming, cocky tearaways in a similar sense to Fagin's pickpockets in Oliver! Cagney plays his role as a semi-willing mentor (willing in the sense that it elevates his own prestige) with extravagant, streetwise fervour, beying everyone in sight to challenge his gangland superiority. Rocky doesn't have that much actual power, but you wouldn't know it.

*** Leslie Howard in Pygmalion

It's nigh-on impossible to match the overt chauvinism of Rex Harrison in pretty much everything, and Howard as Professor Henry Higgins comes across as a much less relevant part of the film. He knows that Eliza Dolittle is the showpiece of the production and gives way to her in a similar vein as he did Bette Davis in Of Human Bondage. He bounces off her well and their mini-battles are as uproariously funny here as they are in the Best Picture-winning musical adaptation.

*** Robert Donat in The Citadel

I feel sorry for Donat, who proves -- as he did in '35 -- that he is such a likeable and charming screen presence. The Citadel has promise but ends up marooning him when the ideas dissipate, and in the final act of this film Donat is utterly helpless and ineffective. Prior to that he illustrates his character's ethical dilemna readily, somewhat disguising the insipid attempts to generate drama. He carefully develops the changing perspective of Dr. Andrew towards his profession and I had actually grown attached to the character by the time the wheels started falling off.

*** Charles Boyer in Algiers

I like Algiers much more than any of the films nominated in this category, but certainly not for its acting. The tone of the film lunges violently but Boyer stays pretty much the same, and the role requires similar things of him as the previous year's Conquest. A gangster in a much different sense to Cagney he's an elusive, no-nonsense figurehead that crumbles into a songster at the sight of Hedy Lamarr (who can blame him, huh?). But Boyer captures the tragedy of a man trapped in a district, top dog in a prison, bound by limitations, much more successfully than he ever captured Napoleon's ambition.

* Spencer Tracy in Boys Town

Tracy sidles around as a mentor figure who, unlike Cagney's Rocky, has no flaws to speak of. Father Flanagan is at the head of Boys Town's admirable but lightweight advertisement for juvenile reform, and has to sort out the restlessness of Mickey Rooney et al. He does this through the occasional lecture, which Tracy can dole out in his sleep, and he is thoroughly incapable of contributing any grit or bite to the character. A bitter disappointment.

The Snubbed

***** Cary Grant in Bringing Up Baby (& Holiday)

Not one but two classic star turns they spurned. Grant's best comes when he reacts to the ever-increasing mania going on all around him, (i.e. in Arsenic and Old Lace, possibly the finest comedic performance there's ever been). In BUB his behaviour and rationality fades in sync with this ever-maddening environment, his character eventually reduced from skepticism to acceptance in what is a rousing reversal. After all, would a man really fall in love with a girl who ransacked his wedding, lumbered him with a leopard, and single-handedly dismantled his relationship?

*** Henry Fonda in Jezebel

Another man Bette Davis swallows and spits out, but this time she doesn't have the guy quite where she wants him. Henry Fonda wouldn't say boo to a goose in many of his films and his cowardice reaches a height when he reacts to Davis's famous brazen red-dress humiliation with the trepidation of a square society Duke. Fonda is totally right for the part -- cute, investable, self-important -- but when the going gets tough the tough get going (thank you, Billy Ocean) and even though you could maybe fall in love with this guy his predictability is ultimately sad. Davis is stellar and the film ain't so much about him, but he does everything you'd ask of the character.

** Errol Flynn in The Adventures of Robin Hood

This is silly fun: Flynn is such a poser, and uses his bravado to craft Robin Hood into a dastardly commodity. The film is really all a technicolour confection, strewn with velvet and laden with pretty faces. Flynn is the prettiest though, and his snarls, smirks, and come-to-bed eyes are the intoxicating essence of a hero. It works perfectly for the film, but it's limited, and that's all he has to offer.

Men of the Thirties: 1937

The Nominees Were...


Charles Boyer - Conquest
Fredric March - A Star is Born
Robert Montgomery - Night Must Fall
Paul Muni - The Life of Emile Zola
Spencer Tracy - Captains Courageous

And the Winner Was...

Spencer Tracy - Captains Courageous

Had Paul Muni not got his Oscar for playing Louis Pasteur in 1936, he probably would have got it for playing Emile Zola in '37. As it stands, the Oscar went to the only other character of the five without any real flaws, the Portugese fisherman played by Spencer Tracy in Captains Courageous. Boyer and Montgomery had juicy roles as Napoleon and a potential killer respectively, but didn't have BP nominees to back it up. March's role is sympathetic so he may have been in with a chance, but it isn't difficult to surmise why Tracy managed to get this win, given his nomination the year before.


My Ratings (in order of preference):-

*** Charles Boyer in Conquest

Conquest sounds like an epic tale of conflict but so isn't, and seems only concerned with the silly soap opera of the French emperor's complicated love life. Boyer more than anyone else is aware of the film's silliness, and plays Napoleon like a big kid in a man's body, sure of what he wants (at least in the short-term) but clueless about how to go about things. Unsurprisingly then he flourishes when the tone of the film is lighter, super fun when wooing and flirting with Garbo and successful at conveying Napoleon's lack of emotional intelligence. A particular scene in which Garbo teaches him to dance is a highlight. It's a shame that Boyer can't really follow this through into the bouts of melodrama, and doesn't give any variation to his superior "Why don't you see things the way I do?" glare that became a staple into the peak of his career.

*** Fredric March in A Star is Born

March set the ball rolling for pretenders James Mason and Kris Kristofferson as the overshadowed husband of Janet Gaynor's movie sensation Vicki Lester. I actually don't like the role of Norman Maine: it's underwritten, fairly simple, rather dull in truth. Disappointment creeps into March's reactions to every phone call and correspondence being for his wife and not him, and as his career dies a death March charts Norman's decreasing self-worth fairly competently. But A Star is Born has always been about the leading lady.

** Spencer Tracy in Captains Courageous

Spencer's trained modesty gets another outing in this little fable, and it's a lovely change to see Tracy play somebody like fisherman Manuel, more exotic and less culturally cardboard. While Tracy himself gives an occasionally moving account of a grouch who has his emotions deepened (using his eyes to great effect) he doesn't convey enough of the core industriousness of Manuel. It's lucky he has an incredibly talented co-lead to work with, and the rapport between the two is convincing enough to carry off the earthy versus pompous sparring.

** Paul Muni in The Life of Emile Zola

And here we are again - Paul Muni's fourth nomination in five years. Sadly this is incredibly similar to his winning turn the year before, and the film too is equally as unconcerned with tapping into its principal figure. One could have crafted the film from scouring the archives for all of half an hour. Muni does a semi-reprisal, but looks less like a goat and more like a shaggy dog, shaking his head in a "What is the world coming to?" kind of fashion. He fares better (if only because he gets some tasty monologues to sink his teeth into) and is able to impart the struggle of an academic within a 'practical' society.

Unseen Nominees:-

Robert Montgomery in Night Must Fall

The Snubbed

***** Cary Grant in The Awful Truth

The wonderful thing about Grant as a comedy actor is that he can play both the unstable hapless victim (Bringing Up Baby, Arsenic and Old Lace) and the sly, scheming charmer, seen in His Girl Friday and most wonderfully Leo McCarey's The Awful Truth. He knows what's expected of him in giving the relationship backstory and ensuring that the audience know that this pairing has a future. Grant revels in his love/hate relationship with Dunne, and sells every wisecrack with brisk, perfect timing and unrivalled charisma.

**** Freddie Bartholomew in Captains Courageous

As a pompous, uppity schoolkid Bartholomew seems like he's just been plucked out of a private school. God knows where they plucked him from but whoever made that call did well, since his performance is the perfect buffer for the film's ideas about class structure and self-sufficiency. Bartholomew gives Freddie exactly the right level of arrogance, and even at his most testing you can see that the boy is not massively fazed by having to do things for himself as much as inconvenienced by not being completely aware of his setup. He has several line deliveries that are laugh-out-loud funny, and is very patient with his simple arc, becoming emotionally effective in the final act.

The Men of June

Since I frequently go on about Actresses on this blog, and truthfully tend to lean towards them when choosing my "high priority" rentals, I've been trying to redeem my neglect of the men of cinema. I made a conscious decision a few weeks ago to catch up on the Leading Actor nominees of the 1930's, which range from tyrannical monarchs to alcoholic lawyers to double-persona scientists.

This testerone-heavy experiment has therefore led me to proclaim June as the "Men of the Thirties" month on this blog, in which I'll throw some stats out and analyse the nominated performances that I did manage to catch. As per usual, the eventual winners of the prize are often bewildering but I'll save the bitching until later on.

Actress Profiles: Katharine Hepburn in Holiday (1938)

Katharine Hepburn in Holiday (1938)

Katherine Hepburn is an eccentrically-endearing chatterbox. While that was admittedly annoying (intentionally, though, and gloriously over-the-top) in Howard Hawks' Bringing Up Baby, her role in George Cukor's Holiday is of a 'tamer' (at least physically) love interest for screen partner Cary Grant, and thus probably a more convincing one. After all, would a man really fall in love with a girl who ransacked his wedding, lumbered him with a leopard, and single-handedly dismantled his relationship? Grant's weak, easily-led scientist is a product of Hepburn's ability to put you under her spell and make you forget about the consequences, but the situation is different in Holiday.

Her penchant for thinking out loud (usually rashly) is put to good use in what is a film that successfully attempts to detail social transition through the dilemna of love versus principle, a consideration afforded less room to breathe in dominant Hollywood romance. Perhaps it's Hepburn's greatest feat though that she makes us feel like her mind is such an expansive and fascinatingly forward-thinking one that you can see her struggle (often with guilt) to see things for what they really are: an internally-ingrained dilution of thought, if you will.

Rating: *****

94. The Awful Truth (1937)

Directed by Leo McCarey

Starring: Cary Grant, Irene Dunne, Ralph Bellamy

The Awful Truth has a simple concept -- a husband and wife (Cary Grant and Irene Dunne) are on the brink of divorce. While the film never really addresses many of the reasons as to why their relationship has disintegrated, aside from Grant's infidelity, it at no point suggests that their marriage is unsalvageable. In fact, the chemistry between Grant and Dunne is such that you cannot doubt that the resolution of the film will involve a re-conciliation, and so The Awful Truth is a light and breezy account of, as Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind so wisely put it, 'I'm fine without you' gender politics.

The constant one-upmanship of the pair instigates the question: why do they still care? And the film seems to approach marital conflict on the basis of a couple knowing each other perhaps too well. It's incredibly fun to watch, the ultimate joy being that their playful jibes and insistently independent facades matter little because each knows what the other is really thinking anyway. Their relationship seems a developed and lived-in one because the script and the actors seem to really understand how love can sanction and dismiss words as games of the heart: a truth that may be 'awful' in theory but a sheer delight to witness.