CITY STREETS B+
USA (83 mi) 1931 d: Rouben Mamoulian
USA (83 mi) 1931 d: Rouben Mamoulian
This second Rouben Mamoulian film, after the box office
failure but critical praise for APPLAUSE (1929), is significant in several
respects, as Paramount studios forced the young director to wait a year before
offering him another picture, an adaptation of a Dashiell Hammett screenplay with
Gary Cooper and Clara Bow as the leads, a romantic couple that gets mixed up
with bootlegger racketeers. Clara Bow
suffered a much publicized nervous breakdown and had to withdraw from the movie,
much of it based on a lawsuit that Bow initiated against a former secretary
named Daisy DeVoe, claiming she stole thousands of dollars worth of clothing
and personal items. While Bow won the
lawsuit, the scandalous publicity cost her much more, as the secretary’s trial
testimony exposed Bow’s reputation as a woman with a wild and uncontrollable
love life, not to mention supposed drug use, unwanted publicity that sent her
on an emotional tailspin that all but ended her career. Since the success of It (1927), Bow
was the mistress of Paramount associate producer B.P. Schulberg, where she was
his vested financial interest as well, but by 1931 due to major personal
problems she left Paramount, her career finished, and within another year Schulberg
was squeezed out of the studio as well.
For this film, however, in an era when sex and romance determined
stardom, Bow was replaced by Sylvia Sidney in only her second feature, though
she was a well known star on Broadway at the time and had been directed by Mamoulian
on the New York stage, where she was not only given the lead role but also
became the new mistress of Schulberg as well—That’s Hollywood, folks. During the Depression era of the 30’s, Sidney
worked with many of the major lead actors, but her terrific work on this film
may have cemented her reputation with gangster movies. The commercial and critical success of von
Sternberg’s Silent film Underworld
(1927) is often thought of as the inspiration behind a trend of
Prohibition-era Hollywood gangster films that followed, like LITTLE CAESAR
(1930), PUBLIC ENEMY (1931), and SCARFACE (1932), while often overlooked is
this gangster melodrama that features less onscreen violence, with supposedly
ten murders, but not one of them takes place onscreen, released a month before
Fritz Lang’s M (1931), containing many of the characteristics that would
anticipate film noir.
Working with cinematographer Lee Garmes, who became
associated with shooting the films of von Sternberg, nominated for an Academy
Award for MOROCCO (1931), winning the award for SHANGHAI EXPRESS (1933), his expressionistic
influence on this film is a major factor on why it’s still important today, as
it deals with noirish themes of gangland turf and criminal amorality, where the
fate of the individual is challenged by a corrupt world around them, where in
the laws of the jungle only the strongest survive. Mamoulian’s direction shows a greater
appreciation for the visual stylization, including elegant tracking shots, where
it is arguably the most artistically advanced of the 30’s gangster films,
showing momentary brilliance and occasional poetic flourish. It’s also interesting for Gary Cooper’s portrayal
of an underworld criminal, the only known example on film, while it’s also one
of the earliest talking efforts, where the sound editing is often clumsy, as
the camera rolls before anyone speaks, creating a time gap between characters
having a dialogue that slows the pace of the film. This is the first use of voiceover in an
American film, used earlier by Hitchcock in the sound version of Blackmail
(1929), as Sidney is alone onscreen with recurring thoughts in her head
spoken out loud, where the audience hears the echoing voice of Gary Cooper as
she recalls what he said to her earlier, where Paramount executives believed this
would confuse audiences and tried to cut the scene, but the director fought for
it, also the additional use of off-camera sound, which was also considered
innovative at the time. While Cooper
went on to greater fame, it’s Sidney’s performance as Nan that dominates the
film, literally stealing every scene she’s in, often pushed to the breaking
point, becoming the face of the 30’s aptly called “Depression’s Child.” The
audience is immediately intrigued by her love affair with The Kid (Cooper), a rugged
guy off the ranch with a talent for shooting, appropriately enough working at a
carnival shooting gallery, where their conversation is often drowned out by the
massive crowd. But when they have a romantic
moment where they’re quietly alone at the beach, she tells him sees nothing
wrong with working with racketeers, as at least they’re guys that make money, including
her own stepfather Pop (Guy Kibbee) who works for the biggest bootlegger in
town, The Big Guy (Paul Lukas). The Kid
has other ideas and wants no part of a life in crime, including his girl. But she was born into the business, where in
one of the cleverly written early scenes with Pop, he scolds her for coming in
late and asks who she was with? When she
refuses to answer, despite being goaded, he bursts out laughing and rewards her
with money for learning to keep her mouth shut.
While Al Capone supposedly loved this film as an accurate
portrayal of the underworld of gangsters, where they are continually
undermining one another to get ahead, where hits are ordered with subtlety,
where the boss’s henchmen have to read between the lines to figure out what he
means, and when they knock somebody off, this makes life easier within the
organization. The Big Guy makes this
clear right away, asking if Pop is interested in taking over somebody else’s
territory, inferring he would like for this to happen, and then walks away
while Pop gets involved in a gangland slaying, quickly giving the gun to Nan to
dispose of, but she gets caught with the murder weapon and takes the prison
rap. Meanwhile Pop manipulates The Kid
into joining the organization by telling him the cops planted the gun on Nan,
and they’ll need his help to try to get her out of jail. Despite promises that the mob will get her
out, Nan languishes in jail for two long years, becoming embittered by her
experience, where her tough girl persona is convincing, becoming cynical about
the whole racketeering operation from behind bars. This prison sequence shows Sidney at her
best, given a hard edge, as she’s wise to the ways of the world and can stand
up to anybody. When she gets out, she’s
literally dumfounded to find The Kid working with these same bootleggers,
blinded to their real intentions, where The Big Guy throws her a party in her
honor, where he uses the occasion to make Nan his girl. When The Kid stands up to him, “Nobody steals
my girl, not even you,” which seems to click a switch in his head where all
bets are off and anything can happen, leading to a spectacular fight to the
finish, culminating with an exhilarating chase scene up a narrow mountain road
that is as thrilling today as when it was made.
Paul Lukas is an interesting contrast to the humble Western manner of
Gary Cooper, as he plays the suave and sophisticated Charles Boyer-style
villain, well dressed and heavily Hungarian-accented, where it’s easy for the
audience to root against such a villainous guy.
Many of these little quirks make this an offbeat gangster film, where
Mamoulian uses a staggering array of innovative camera shots and narrative
techniques for this film, including an infamous sequence shot from the top of
the stairs where The Kid is steadfast in going after The Big Guy and refuses to
listen to Nan, despite being draped all over him, where she’s left alone in
tears muttering “You fool” over and over again, yet the camera holds the scene
in utter silence as she composes herself and paces the floor until an idea
comes to her, and she slowly walks across the floor to make a telephone call,
where Sidney offers her own praise for the director, “Look, he carried me
through that picture. He was a great
teacher and a great director, and I will always be indebted to him for his
genius and for his confidence in me.” In
one of her earliest screen appearances, Paulette Goddard can be seen as a
nightclub patron, but in perhaps the most bewildering twist of all, once the
outcome has been determined, the rising trumpets and blaring horns from Prelude
to Act I of Wagner’s opera Die Meistersinger Herbert v. Karajan
"Prelude to Act I " Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg YouTube (9:49)
resound triumphantly over the end credits in one of the more astonishing
audience send-offs on record—an enduring classic that will likely leave the
audience smiling.