Monochromatic Monday: Bobby Breen

Charles Butterworth and Bobby Breen in Rainbow on the River (RKO)

These are articles wherein I’ll profile a black-and-white film or films worth looking out for.

I couldn’t rightly tell you now how it was I discovered the films of Bobby Breen. It may well have been through Movies Unlimited’s catalog back when they had brick-and-mortar locations. They wonderfully subdivided so it was likely there that I first noticed his name. It’s not a name many will know among the pantheon of stars from the 30s but he most certainly should be.

He was touted as the boy soprano and, of course, there’s no doubt his voice is incredible but what’s really intriguing is the films are truly built around him and showcasing his singing. Genre definitions were rigid back then but in a way that simplified things and allowed accessible, quality star-vehicles to be created with a higher rate of frequency. Producer Sol Lesser was always heading up these productions and seemed to place things just right to make the projects successful. Four films Bobby starred in were nominated for Academy Awards in scoring categories so they were fine productions.

I have seen three myself: Way Down South, Let’s Sing Again and Make a Wish and have enjoyed them all. While all are similar enough each has its own feel to it: one being an antebellum southern tale, another a touching reunion piece and the last a light summertime romance. Sadly, based on what little information I can gather it seemed Breen, like all too many a child star back then, wasn’t accepted in films as anything but a kid act. The trend is more broken now than it was but it’s unfortunate, it seems he stayed in music in one way or another for many years but never did clear that hurdle in the minds of some. I admit I don’t have as much information as I’d like about the whole of his career and welcome enlightenment.

The goal of this piece really is to possibly introduce him to those who may not know of his work. Below you will find links to three of his films on The Internet Archive, all of which are in the public domain. I wanted to see them before linking to them but I will be watching them this week. I hope you enjoy and are seek out his other work as well.

Hawaii Calls (1938)

Breaking the Ice (1938)

Escape to Paradise (1939)

Monochromatic Monday #2

Now for this week’s installment I will continue with my 31 Days of Oscar theme.

The first film is…

Gaslight (1944)

Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight (MGM)

For the record this film won two Academy Awards: one for Ingrid Bergman for Best Actress (her first) and another for Art Design (Black & White). It was nominated for 5 others: Best Picture, Best Actor (Charles Boyer), Best Supporting Actress (Angela Lansbury- her first film role at 19), Best Black-and-White Cinematography and Best Screenplay.

This is a film that I had already seen so this is where some films get a real litmus tests. Most films diminish upon a second viewing, some stay the same, others, and this is rare, get better. Gaslight falls into the middle category which is not meant as a slight at all. It is still a tremendously effective piece of work. This is for the most part a chamber drama wherein a villain gets firmly established and he and our heroine face-off throughout the rest of the film.

What differentiates Gaslight somewhat is the amount of psychology that is employed. By the time we the audience realize Gregory (Boyer) is up to no good Paula (Bergman) already doubts herself and her sanity such that we never question why she doesn’t catch on. Boyer plays such a devilish role it’ll make your blood curdle.

This is a film that hinges on subtleties: footsteps in a locked room, the gaslight going down, the odd way the servants sometimes behave around their mistress. The final confrontation between husband and wife is not one of bombast but of anger tinged with lingering doubt. Bergman truly plays many notes in this performance perhaps her best moment is when she confronts her husband and tries to get back at him. The conclusion is marvelous as Joseph Cotten, a man who lies about the periphery of the tale and slowly takes center stage, moves in.

To discuss too many plot details would be to do this film a disservice. You should see it for yourself.

I am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang (1932)

I am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang was nominated for three Oscars: Best Picture, Best Actor (Paul Muni) and Best Sound Recording. Now this film does have a few things going for it aside form one of the most awesome titles in the history of cinema and a couple of major hindrances too.

Paul Muni is absolutely fantastic in this part. He brings to this part a humanity and cynicism that is needed to add an extra dimension to what may otherwise have been just another social issue film of the 1930s. Now one of the more inconsistent pieces of the puzzle is the writing. For example, for the good James Allen (Muni) is a character who is poised to be sort of an American Jean Valjean. He is arrested for being forced, at gunpoint, by a man he just met to assist in a robbery. He tried to flee and is caught. For that five dollars he stole he is sentenced to 10 years on the chain gang.

Some of the negatives of the writing are certain parts of his escape are just too easy after one really close call. The suspense as to whether or not he’ll make it is somewhat drained. Then there’s the biggest issue is when he is found out he willingly goes back. Now granted this sets up a tremendous last line in which you can’t even see Muni saying it as he has drifted back into the darkness but the tragedy which is impending is undermined by this acquiescence because it’s quite clear that the assurance that are being made are false. It’s terribly transparent and the decision happens fast. If he’d given a little thought something that the edit and the screenplay should’ve accounted for on more than one occasion it might’ve been easier to swallow.

The film ends up being not so much an expose as a very tightly would circle that should really pack more punch than it does but it is still very much worth a watch.

Monochromatic Monday #1

As I mentioned in my manifesto I endeavor to have viewing themes and post short entries on them. Not necessarily a full review of what I watch but just a bit of information to give you the gist.

Up until early March many of my themes will likely be concurrent with TCM’s 31 Days of Oscar. My goal as a side project is to see at least one film from every day of the festival with a little assistance form my DVR. I am currently one behind.

Today’s selections were the first in a while where both films were afforded introductions by TCM hosts which gave some interesting information, more so in the second film. But without much further ado the films.

Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936)

Gary Cooper and Jean Arthur in Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (Columbia Pictures)

Ben Mankiewicz hosted and while he does a fine job, invariably he leaves out a piece of information that puzzles me. The theme for part of the afternoon line-up on this day was good luck charms and it chronicled Bess Flowers, the so-called “Queen of Hollywood Extras,” who was a good luck charm herself. She appeared in over 700 films, yes, 700, this is in the days of the studio system remember, and appeared in 21 Best Picture Nominees and Five winners. Frank Capra employed her often. What I wanted to know, with all this to do being made about someone with a bit part, is where do I look for her, if I can find her that was not mentioned.

This film was a Best Picture nominee and was one of Capra’s three Best Director trophies (amazingly none of them came for his most notable film It’s a Wonderful Life). It certainly does have that Capra touch to it. It’s the story of a simple country man, often mistakenly thought to be a simpleton, who inherits a large sum of money and then has to deal with everyone trying to take advantage of him. It’s a film with a lot of subtle humor and most notably through some Hollywood magic creates some of the most surreal vistas of New York you’re likely to see on film. Capra is often associated with comedy or sentiment but here in this film there is a lot of great cinematography and the visuals really drive the story home. The shot of Longfellow Deeds (Gary Cooper) complacently sitting in a cell with barely a highlight upon his profile is a breathtaking piece of chiaroscuro.

Then, of course, there’s Cooper. This is one hell of a performance and most notably so because he is silent for so much of it. However, there’s a clear subtext and thought-process behind his actions. He’s also incredibly naturalistic, especially for the era, which really allows the story to sink in. More often than not he doesn’t let on but is listening, and absorbing information and planning his next move. Of course, there is misplaced trust in an undercover reporter (Jean Arthur) and that plot goes predictably enough but it’s very well executed but there is one surprise in store which is how it looks like out hero will be vanquished and how he triumphs.

This is a truly wonderful film that has Capra’s stamp all over it, which means that it is timeless this one more than most perhaps because it does talk about cynicism in society which is pervasive and being too cynical might allow you to take a film like this for granted but you shouldn’t.

Viva Villa! (1934)

Wallace Beery in Viva Villa!

*****Warning Spoilers Below*****

There’s much less to say about this title. The intro by Robert Osborne was quite interesting. This film was shown during a block of films that were winners of awards the Academy retired. This one winning a certificate, not a statuette, for Best Assistant Director. There were lots of pieces of information to relay here like Howard Hawks’ firing, the unruly extras who were real soldiers and peasants and the actor who relieved himself off a balcony on members of the Mexican military.

Once the film began the story was compelling but not quite compelling enough. First, it needs to be said that Wallace Beery is incredibly effective and endearing as Villa, when I read the cast I thought it might be a stretch but it worked. The film creates an interesting cinematic mestizo situation in as much as the natives of Mexico are all either Mexican or made to look like they are and the Spaniards are mostly white and don’t speak with accents. The mix of different voice stylings was actually pleasurable rather than rampant stereotypes.

While I love how full screen titles in the Golden Age were poetic and verbose there are far too many of them here and it avoids shooting some scenes which would’ve enhanced the film. It seems they might’ve been an afterthought based on the edit and there are some weird cuts in there, scenes that don’t seem to end in a logical place or stop abruptly. If you count the “Villa Wants You!” title montage as one there are 14 instances of full screen titles in this film. It was like a bad joke at times: “I went to a movie and a book broke out.”

Speaking of bad jokes there ‘s a running gag that an artist/writer friend of Villa’s refuses to draw a bull and is willing to die for this artistic standard. He called it advertising. I call it hard to swallow. Won’t draw a bull? Really?

What this film did have going for it was a beautiful little circle that closed. In a prelude that’s too short we see Villa for a child as a moment don’t really get to know him and he grows but what does get set into motion is the path of his destiny. His family was robbed of its land. His father dies for questioning it and off he goes to eventually lead a long multi-faceted revolution. While knowing that a plot is in the offing does drain some of the tension and drama out of Villa’s last words he does say, not ones the reporter puts in his mouth, are great. The reporter had started his fictionalized obit with the words “Mexico, I apologize.” Villa responded in the end “Johnny, what have I done wrong?”

It was a bit uneven and it was the rare film, in my experience, wherein the conventions that date it hold it back rather than exalt it but it is worth a watch and a decent film. Not sure it should’ve been a Best Picture nominee in this top-heavy era though.

In closing Robert Osborne related the fascinating tale of James Wong Howe the DP who was born in China but grew up in Washington State. He was an Assistant Camera at 19 and had done time at Lasky Studios. As a Director of Photography he garnered 10 Oscar nominations and two wins.