Showing posts with label Ben Hecht. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ben Hecht. Show all posts

Friday, January 31, 2014

Underworld (1927)


















UNDERWORLD         B                    
USA  (80 mi)  1927  d:  Josef von Sternberg

Heavily influenced by German Expressionism, using strong contrasts between darkness and light, von Sternberg often transcended his contemporaries in terms of sheer visual style, creating a visual lushness that figures most prominently in establishing atmospheric mood, where nearly all his films use mist, fog, and contrasts between shadows and light to set the tone for his films, where he was such a master of lighting that he was the only director of his day to earn membership in the American Society of Cinematographers. Though born in Vienna to humble origins, von Sternberg lived most of his childhood in New York City raised by his Jewish Orthodox father Moses, a former soldier in the Austrian-Hungarian army.  After dropping out of high school, having difficulty with the English language, he set out determined to learn on his own, finding work repairing sprocket holes and cleaning movie prints at the World Film Company in Fort Lee, New Jersey, where he rose to chief assistant to the director general.  He went on to help make training films for the U.S. Army Signal Corps during World War I before earning his first credit as an assistant director on THE MYSTERY OF THE YELLOW RIBBON (1919), directed by Emile Chautard.  In 1923, he moved to Hollywood and was the assistant director on the British film BY DIVINE RIGHT (1923), where he picked up the aristocratic title of “von” in the listed credits at the suggestion of actor Elliott Dexter, before gaining the notice of studio executives with the surprise success of his independently produced directorial debut in THE SALVATION HUNTERS (1925), a starkly poetic tale of poverty and depression that he made in three weeks for $4900, where the grim naturalism was hissed at during its premiere before later being hailed as a masterpiece by Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks and Charlie Chaplin, becoming a successful picture widely considered to be America’s first true independent film.  MGM refused to release his next picture, THE EXQUISITE SINNER (1925), which was eventually lost, while his third film THE SEA GULL (1926) was destroyed by producer Chaplin as a tax write-off.  Finding himself an assistant director at Paramount, he was called in to help fix Frank Lloyd’s CHILDREN OF DIVORCE (1927), reshooting about half the film in three days, mostly at night when the actors were available, after which he was allowed to make UNDERWORLD, with a script written by Ben Hecht.  Paramount then shelved the film, with Hecht asking to have his name removed from the credits, before a New York theater needed a last minute movie to screen, and the film created an instant sensation, exclusively by word of mouth, where the theater had to stay open all night showing it.  Often credited as the first Hollywood gangster film, actor George Bancroft became a star, while Ben Hecht won an Oscar.      

Von Sternberg brought a distinctly European style to American studios, blending German Expressionism with elaborately exotic production design, creating sensuous images with a frank eroticism, becoming something of a visual poet with an obsession for lighting and detail, known for the slow pace of his films, with their long dissolves and strange narrative twists, an aesthetic that evolved from the Silent era.  He believed that the story didn’t matter, but trusted instead the artificial aspects of cinema, preferring illusion to reality, where he wanted control over all the elements, not just the photography and editing, but every inflection and movement of the actors, working closely with costume designers and set designers, providing his own sketches before hearing their ideas, never designing sets, but introducing props to “improve” them, where the peak of his creativity are his films from 1930 – 1935.  In a book review of John Baxter’s Von Sternberg, Book Review: Von Sternberg - WSJ.com, Scott Eyman from The Wall Street Journal describes von Sternberg:

He was a man who kept large, aggressive dogs, who avoided direct eye contact, who presented his opinions as incontrovertible fact and who treated everyone with unconcealed disdain or contempt.  On the set, he had a blackboard; if crew members or actors wanted to talk to him, they had to write their names on the blackboard, and he’d schedule an appointment.  “The only way to succeed,” he once said, “is to make people hate you.  That way they remember you.”

UNDERWORLD generated a series of Prohibition-era Hollywood gangster films that followed, like Edward G. Robinson in LITTLE CAESAR (1930), James Cagney in PUBLIC ENEMY (1931), and Paul Muni in SCARFACE (1932), films that became synonymous with the myth of American individualism, featuring outlaws who liked to flout authority, becoming sympathetic heroes struggling to survive.  But von Sternberg had little interest in the behind-the-scenes world of organized crime, preferring to focus instead on the particular characteristics of several of the characters, expressed through a visual mastery of storytelling where he infuses wry humor in the title card commentary of onscreen events.  As the audience is introduced to George Bancroft as bankrobber unparalleled “Bull” Weed, the bank behind him explodes as the title card claims he’s taking out a “personal loan.”  Staring at him as he steps out of the bank is none other than “Rolls Royce” Wensel (Clive Brook), a man down on his luck who has hit the bottle, so Weed kidnaps him to guarantee his silence.  Wensel claims he might be a drunk, but he’s not a squealer, promising to be “silent as a Rolls Royce.”  Taken by his scrappy nature, Weed keeps him on as his right-hand man, getting him cleaned up and off the sauce, buying him some clothes, aided by his girlfriend Feathers (Evelyn Brent), who, you guessed it, is always dressed in feathers.  Wensel never forgets her kindness while remaining loyal to his boss.  This love triangle essentially forms the basis of the story.     

Evelyn Brent’s Feathers is an interesting prelude to the later iconic works with Marlene Dietrich, who made seven films with von Sternberg, including some of the most dazzling films of the era, where Dietrich was his greatest model, someone he dressed in sequins and feathers and stunning evening gowns, even a tuxedo, where in close up, with the right lighting, he could create an image of ravishing beauty.  Brent, by contrast, is more subdued and the film more conventional, especially at the outset, where it takes awhile for the young director to find his patented style, yet Feathers likes what she sees in her cleaned-up project to remake Wensel into a well-dressed gentleman, a lawyer when he’s not drunk, where his calm reserve offers a contrast to the demented laughter heard from Weed, yet in a typical von Sternberg theme, both feel guilty for succumbing to their forbidden sexual desires.  We can catch a whiff of Dietrich’s masculine tone when a bored Feathers tells Wensel, “C’mon, let’s drift.”  The film is pre-Code and has its share of erotically charged come-ons, but perhaps the central sequence of the film is an all-night gangster’s ball, where one night a year all the criminals declare a truce from one another and have a rollicking, alcohol-driven affair, where they all buy votes to have their girls named Queen of the Ball.  It’s a rather grotesque affair, edited with a montage of close ups showing inebriated individuals, each uglier than the last, where emotional and physical violence erupt amid a storm of confetti and streamers.  Feathers makes eyes for Wensel under the careful watch of Weed, but the one that gets riled up is Weed’s arch enemy Buck Mulligan (Fred Kohler).  Leave it to Ben Hecht to name a character after the then-banned book Ulysses.  Mulligan makes his move on Feathers once Weed is collapsed drunk, but he’s awakened in time to catch him in the act of raping Feathers, shooting him on the spot.  Using an economy of means, von Sternberg shows the arrest, sentencing, and jailing of Weed in just a few short scenes, but he escapes before his execution, vowing to get his revenge, where all he’s heard about while sitting in jail is how Feathers and Rolls Royce have become an item.  The finale, however, the notorious chase sequence, has an interesting existential tone about it which is unlike most gangster dramas.  Nonetheless, this hard-boiled gangster drama is an early indication of themes with a visual stylization that would ultimately become film noir. 

Thursday, October 3, 2013

The Great Gabbo





















THE GREAT GABBO             B           
USA  (92 mi)  1929  director:  James Cruze, von Stroheim uncredited

Ladies and gentlemen, I have the privilege to appear before you in what I might call, with all due modesty, the greatest ventriloquism exhibition of all times.                        
—The Great Gabbo (Erich von Stroheim)

Shot in the era of early talkies, when the studios were under pressure to crank out talking pictures before they even learned how to use the cumbersome equipment, and while the result is a highly uneven film, it’s notable on several counts.  First, it’s a time capsule look at the Vaudeville era, where the charm of these old musical numbers are priceless, choreographed in an odd hybrid of styles, all of which predate Busby Berkeley, but heavily costumed dancers fill every inch of the frame, using a sense of constant motion in order to dazzle the audiences back in the 20’s.  Just as a note of comparison, this film was released the same year as the very first Marx Brothers movie, THE COCOANUTS (1929), where both feature plenty of overblown musical numbers that include both amateurish and near operatic singing voices.  Ben Hecht wrote the screenplay, adapted from his 1928 short story The Rival Dummy, described as “a macabre adventure into the strange workings of an unbalanced mind.”  But the real showpiece of this film is the slow psychological deterioration of a world class ventriloquist, The Great Gabbo, played by the legendary director Erich von Stroheim.  The eccentric nature of his performance is simply off the charts, yet his aristocratic mannerisms, so prevalent in THE GRAND ILLUSION (1937), are fully developed here, wearing a white Tuxedo with white gloves, with honorary medals stuck to his chest, not to mention his customary cigarette and eye monocle.  His distinct pronunciation of every Hecht word lends credibility to his view of himself as a legendary star, even early in his career when he’s playing in dives.  Betty Compson, the director’s wife, though they divorced a year later, is Mary, the faithful girlfriend with the shrill, high pitched voice that makes her sound dumber than she really is.  But she can’t compete with the real love of Gabbo’s life, his dummy Otto.  Though Mary is considered a second rate performer, her career is thwarted by slavishly taking care of Gabbo and Otto. 

As a director, Stroheim was known for his extravagance and painfully slow working methods, where studio executives often had to step in before shooting was finished due to cost overruns, where his career as a director was all but finished when he was prematurely fired working with Gloria Swanson in QUEEN KELLY (1928), which forced him to return to acting.  As a scene constructionist, however, Stroheim was far more sophisticated than many of his contemporaries, using magnificent crane shots, often blending subjective points of view, using surrealistic flourishes, including Technicolor shots.  When this film was initially released, certain sequences were color tinted, where the title sequence indicates “Color sequences by Multicolor.”  Unfortunately, Multicolor went out of business and all color tints have been lost, so the only available version is not what the director originally intended, though we do get a hint of Gabbo performing his routine through a spectrum of colors here in this overly faded version, The Great Gabbo: Erich von Stroheim's Astonishing Yodel  YouTube (2:33).  Gabbo is a world class egomaniac, where he tyrannically orders Mary around, complaining about each and every thing she does, where if it’s not done perfectly, she’ll hear about it, which eventually drives her away, as Gabbo believes she’ll amount to nothing without his star status.  “If you're as great as you think you are, then why aren’t you in a real theater?” she quips before walking out on him.  Gabbo’s act is pretty impressive, even to the point of absurdity, as he can eat a five course meal, drink an entire glass of water, smoke a cigarette, and even swallow a scarf as he is performing the voice of the dummy, who even occasionally breaks out into song, all seemingly impossible, which of course is the basis of his legendary stature as the world’s greatest.  As a publicity stunt, he eats in the same classy restaurant with Otto, both receiving world class service, literally holding the audience in the room spellbound by the audacity of his nerve, seen here, The Great Gabbo - 1929 - by request  YouTube (15:27), where he cleverly reunites with Mary after a two year absence, leading to a Rockettes-style musical number “Every Now and Then,” featuring Frank (Donald Douglas) and Babe (Marjorie Kane), another high-pitched, Betty Boop/Shirley Temple sounding singer.

There is unfortunately not enough Stroheim in the film, both in front and behind the camera, as the overly conventional main story continually finds its way to the theatrical stage, where separately Mary and Gabbo have both become big name stars, and the director delights in shooting big production numbers, mostly from a distance with almost no camera movement, where the peculiar nature of many of these musical numbers only adds to the odd delight of the film. There is the great Art Deco style and grand theatricality of I'm In Love With You (1929)  YouTube (6:47), starring the duo team of Mary and Frank (Donald Douglas), though by the end the chorus isn’t even dancing, but simply walking in formation, or That New Step (1929) YouTube (2:59), again featuring Babe, where the German Expressionist sets seem directly stolen from the stage of THE CABINET OF DR, CALIGARI (1920).  Perhaps most amusing is the bewilderingly spectacular and oftentime hilarious spider-and-fly set design of Caught in the Web of Love (1929)  YouTube (6:57), featuring Mary and Frank, eventually taking a turn into what eventually became the Mickey Hargitay/Jayne Mansfield body sculpture nightclub act.  And while these strange set pieces are charmingly memorable, none of the other stock characters hold a candle to the diabolical flourish of Stroheim’s performance, where at one point he goes into unsubtitled German with his dresser, which appears to be his way of showing flattery, but in an instant he’s turned on the dresser as well with more wicked insults and verbal abuse.  But when things don’t go as planned, Gabbo has socially isolated himself from all others, who he snears at with haughty contempt, leaving him only the dummy for companionship.  Locked in the dual worlds inside his own head, his mind deteriorates until he grows delirious, as if trapped with no escape, where mixed surreal images are superimposed on top of one another to create a delusional state of madness, The Finale - The Great Gabbo 1929. YouTube (7:29).  Gabbo’s ruthless nature is startlingly exposed, suddenly tempered with a childlike vulnerability, where his comeuppance is poignantly sad, where by the end we finally see the man (child) behind the mask.