The PAD Awards: 1920s/1930s

The twelve films of the 1920s and '30s. 

Well we've made it past our first milestone. And as we reached the end of the 1930s, we thought it'd be a good moment to stop and reflect on what we've seen so far. And so - without further ado - the PAD (Paul and Doug) Awards...

Least Favourite Film 

Paul says: The Broadway Melody

I think we’re pretty unanimous on this one. Obviously, we were expecting some antiquated movie-making in the first decade of the Oscars but The Broadway Melody went so far with this that it was almost unbearable to watch at times. Acting and directing techniques were very much of the silent era, so most of them came across as over-acting in a sub-standard Broadway musical. The whole thing felt like it had been glued together with Prit-Stick, and it very much belongs back in the time it was made, like mullet hairstyles or 90’s track suits.

Doug says: The Broadway Melody

Oh god The Broadway Melody was so awful. It makes me cringe even to think of it now. Full of long dance pieces that seemed unintelligible, with a plot and characters that didn’t make any logical sense. It was as if they’d never made a film before, and I think it won purely for the novelty of sound and music - even though some cinemas weren’t yet equipped with the technology and so showed this musical - silent. It was truly a transitional piece, showing the difficult manoeuvre from silent to talkie and how easy it is to fail at. Definitely one to be left in the dusty museum cabinets.  

Favourite Male Performance 

Paul says: Lionel Barrymore, in Grand Hotel

Of course I’d heard of the Barrymore dynasty- right from Ethel, John and Lionel in the ’30’s through to Drew in Charlie’s Angels. But this project fully exposed me to the elder generation, and Lionel floored me in Grand Hotel. He was a scene-stealer in You Can’t Take It With You too (yes, he was in two of them- Clark Gable was in three!), but his performance as a man going on a massive European bender before he perishes from a terminal illness had more depth to it due to his development throughout the film- and due to his confrontation with the prehensile businessman for whom he worked for decades, but was never thanked. Although Grand Hotel was far from the best film, and Barrymore is not the most central of the cast (Garbo nicked that slot), his climactic attack on the businessman’s lack of humanity was the centrepiece of the film for me. Charles Laughton in Mutiny on the Bounty was also a close second.

Doug says: Edward Arnold, in You Can't Take It With You

Truth be told I’m not in love with any of the male performances from this era. We’re still stuck in the period where men weren’t really allowed to emote in case they come across as pathetic, which means we have a lot of same-y performances with men saying quick-witted lines and then taking a drag of their cigarette. However there’s one that stands out - Edward Arnold in You Can’t Take It With You. As the rich banker who begins to realise that his family do actually mean more than his financial status, he delivered a tour-de-force in underplayed acting, culminating in a typical Capra-esque ‘letting go and being happy’ narrative that actually felt pretty real. Big props to the scene where he sat in the boardroom, silently stealing the focus without moving a muscle. Judi Dench would be in awe. 

Favourite Female Performance 

Paul says: Vivien Leigh, in Gone With The Wind

Let’s face facts here, Viv acts her socks off. She conveys Scarlett O’Hara’s volcanic, mercurial, snarling side whilst also rendering her sympathetic and even admirable in her inherent expertise at surviving the American Civil War (again, survival! A theme!). And she is the Queen of Resting Bitch Face. This is no mean feat, especially considering the chaos that Gone With the Wind’s production went through. Re-writes to prevent the film going past an inordinate four hours; one director (George Cukor) getting fired while his replacement, Victor Fleming, was temporarily replaced by a third director, Sam Wood, due to exhaustion; and a budget that was never quite enough. And yet, Leigh maintains her energy and her focus all the way through, flitting from expression to emotion without resorting to the over-acting of Luise Rainer in The Great Ziegfeld.

Doug says: Clara Bow, in Wings 

It’s a close call, and while Vivien Leigh is deservedly iconic as Scarlett O’Hara, delivering each and every ‘fiddle dee dee’ with a genuine carelessness, I’ve found it hard to shake the star power of Clara Bow from my memory. Watching a 1927 silent film was a fair slog, and yet every scene Clara Bow was in immediately lit up and seized the attention. Her name is still remembered as one of the silent film greats, and it was easy to see why. She is all energy and vitality, much as Vivien Leigh would be a decade later, and she was an unexpected find among the juddering amateurish film-making of the late ‘20s. The scene when she hid from bombs under her car in particular stood out as a great example of her superb physicality mingled with a skilled acting ability and without any voice at all - ‘look mama, no sound’! 

Favourite Film 

Paul says: The Life of Emile Zola

For me, the key theme of the 20’s/30’s films is survival. As society crumbles then rebuilds itself through the Great Depression in both excellent and hideous ways, most of our main characters are striving to keep their heads above water in some way or another. Whether they are doing this quite literally whilst dodging gun fire in war films Wings and All Quiet on the Western Front; or trying to establish their name in a brand new community in Cimarron; or surviving at sea with no food in Mutiny on the Bounty; or fending off greedy businessmen and corrupt politicians in The Broadway Melody and You Can’t Take It With You. This was the constant throughout, but The Life of Emile Zola tackled survival in the face of regnant corruption, and the battle for a changed, good society, with full force. I was captivated by the courtroom scenes especially (we all know I love a good courtroom scene), and Paul Muni’s central performance oozes with charisma and sympathy. Above all, it was my most exciting film, an air-punching insight into one of history’s best known tales, and one which I would recommend to anyone who loves a bit of social injustice.

Doug says: It Happened One Night

Going into this from the very beginning has been fascinating, as we’ve started off with a black-and-white silent film (oh the barrel organ music…) and have just finished our first full-colour epic. And while there’s been a clear shift in the films’ content from memorialising World War One to anticipating World War Two, we’ve also seen the film-makers become more confident in their techniques, each film slicker and more professional than the last. For me, although Gone With The Wind was by far the best-made film, my favourite had to be the screwball comedy It Happened One Night. Before Frank Capra delved into saccharine sentimentality, he proved himself capable of hilarious film-work like this. Not only do Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert shimmer on screen with energy and vitality, but the film itself is very funny and so beautifully constructed. It’s one of the few that I’d willingly watch again, and the background of the Great Depression only serves to make it more intriguing. 

Average Film Scores 

Paul: 6.58/10

Doug: 5.75/10

12. Gone With The Wind (1939)

Plot Intro

Atlanta, Georgia, 1861. Spoilt, volcanic Southern Belle, Scarlett O’Hara (Vivien Leigh), the Paris Hilton of the Deep South, is obsessed with marrying local bachelor Ashley Wilkes (Leslie Howard). But Ashley is betrothed to angelic goodie-two-shoes, Melanie Hamilton (Olivia de Havilland). Also present is dashing douchebag, Rhett Butler (Clark Gable), who basically calls Scarlett out on her bullshit and proves to be a better match for her. Into this love quadrilateral steps the American Civil War, which destroys Scarlett’s entire world. Using her courage, intelligence and guts, Scarlett must re-build her life, and navigate a tumultuous relationship with Rhett. 

Paul says...

What ISN’T there to love about Gone With the Wind?! It’s one of the most eventful four hours you’ll ever endure. Vivien Leigh flounces brilliantly through the film in dresses big enough to hide a walrus. Gable breaks your heart with his smarmy arseholeyness. Over-budgeted, over-long, and trawling through three directors, various re-writes and racial tensions on set, out of the chaos was born a film that is so iconic that it has been endlessly imitated, parodied and referenced. It has the first black person ever to win an Oscar (the inimitable Hattie McDaniel). After adjusting for inflation, it is the most financially successful film of all time (surpassing Avatar, Titanic and any of the individual Harry Potter films). Brimming with passion, pace and set-pieces, it’s a gargantuan, salient juggernaut of a film.

I say again, what ISN’T there to love about Gone With the Wind?

Well, there’s a couple of niggling points that prevent it from achieving a full 10 from me. Firstly, there’s the fact that the first half of the film, which covers the war, the fall of Atlanta, and some of the most spectacular moments in cinema, is hugely superior to the small-scale, more domestic-based second half. The first half has a steadier pace and builds up its emotions well. Meanwhile, the pace of the film in the second act quickens so dramatically that marriages, births, separations, deaths and miscarriages come at you so thick and fast that there’s barely any time to fully process and enjoy them. Many of the events (such as Rhett’s trip to London) could have been abbreviated or cut out to make a film with less laughable mawkishness - and a more manageable length. 

Secondly, there is the much bigger race issue. Gone With the Wind has no qualms about depicting Southern culture as the pinnacle of glamour and morality, with the slaves happy and content with their status- and treated well by their white masters. Modern-day eyes will find this uncomfortable- 12 Years A Slave would later reveal the darker truth in 2013. One could argue that the film is of its time, or that it primarily wants to evoke the sadness of the Southerners at losing their fortunes and ways of life. But we must remember that this is a culture that would flutter its fan coquettishly with one hand, and beat up its slave with the other. A 21st century re-working would, for good reason, have more sympathy for the Yankees, and draw attention to the very relevant reasons why Lincoln had it in for the Southern states.

Having said all of this, Gone With the Wind remains one of my all-time faves because it’s so utterly massive without becoming overdone. Leigh manages to convey Scarlett’s mercurial but heroic nature with spontaneity and naturalism. It’s hard not to get swept away (see what I did there?) by the torrent of emotions, colours and music. It’s the perfect climax to a decade of films fraught with lofty themes around building civilisations and surviving in the face of adversity. 

Now please excuse me whilst I dance around the room in a marquee and shout “Fiddle dee-dee!” with alacrity.

Highlight

The scene towards the end in which Mammy (Hattie McDaniel) informs Melanie Hamilton of what happened after the death of Scarlett’s child whilst climbing a set of stairs. McDaniel must have won her Oscar based on that scene because it is an absolute heart-breaker.

Lowlight

Why the hell does Rhett take Bonnie to London for all of 3 minutes?! Such incongruity. 

Mark

9/10  

Doug says...

There are several things that people often don’t get about Gone With The Wind. One of them is that it is, in essence, two separate halves with a continuous storyline running through. The first half is a study of the fall of the South, complete with grand houses, huge dresses, and everyone saying how happy the slaves look. The second half is an intimate portrait of Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler’s inability to get over themselves and admit how in love with each other they are. The two halves make up one epic whole which covers the decline of a long-gone society while also bringing superb, addictive characters to the fore. 

It’s a great film. Vivien Leigh is on formidable form, ‘fiddle-dee-dee’ing her way through scenes with a bombastic energy that makes everyone fade away except for Clark Gable, who matches her with his sexual energy poured into each dimpled smile, and Olivia de Havilland whose Melly is sweet yet quietly forceful. 

What I find fascinating about this is how far it differs from the book. Notably the use of the ’n’ racial slur was removed from the script after campaigners complained. To my memory, the word is in frequent use in Margaret Mitchell’s novel - as are a host of now-derogatory slurs. There are other details that have been removed too. When Frank Kennedy, Scarlett’s ill-fated second husband, gathers his friends (including the sanctimonious Ashley) to punish the men who attacked her, what the film neatly omits is that this gathering calls itself the Ku Klux Klan. Sound familiar? 

It’s details like this that fascinate me. In the novel, Scarlett wonders how the Northerners consider her racist as they have no real contact with black people. She even thinks how the Southerners consider black women to be the best nannies as proof that they aren’t racist. And certainly her relationship with Mammy - and Mammy’s authority over her - make their way into the film, raising questions about who is in charge of who. Scarlett is by far more likeable in the novel, with far more examples of her sheer resilience, so that by the end when she has been left by Rhett once again (‘My dear, I don’t give a damn’), the reader needs her to pick herself back up, while in the film you can’t help but think that she kind of had it coming to her. 

A side-detail is that so many readers were unable to deal with Scarlett’s apparent failure to win, that in the ‘80s, a new author picked up the thread and wrote a sequel ‘Scarlett’ which is actually very good. She is a fascinating central figure who we want so desperately to win - and seems incapable of not getting in her own way. 

The film struggles to fit in all the novel's 1000 pages of action, even with its four hour running time, and so by the end it is rushing to catch up with itself (also featuring one of the most - unintentionally - hilarious deaths ever seen in film. I actually had to rewind and watch it again, I was laughing so hard). But that said, it’s a tour-de-force of fashion, eyebrow arching, and colour (boy is it good to see a colour film after eleven black-and-white ones), and they have spared no melodrama in the recounting of this great tale.   

Highlight

The moment when Scarlett O’Hara appears in that red dress at a party having just been accused of cheating with her best friend’s husband is just fabulous. The dress, the gauzy shawl, the arched eyebrow  - it’s all just so theatre. 

Lowlight

Prissy the young black maid is not only a disturbingly racist stereotype, but her whiny voice is just so, so annoying. 

Mark

9/10

11. You Can't Take It With You (1938)

Plot Intro

The Sycamore family, headed by the maternal Grandfather, Martin Vanderhof (Lionel Barrymore), are a happy but downright bonkers middle-class family living a life of fun, happiness and freedom. Meanwhile, the Kirby family, headed by Anthony P. Kirby (Edward Arnold), are basically the Trump clan- living a life of opulence, dignity and consumed by wealth, power and snobbery. However, the granddaughter of Martin Vanderhof, Alice Sycamore (Jean Arthur) has fallen in love with the son and heir of Anthony Kirby, Tony Kirby (James Stewart), and it’s about time both families discovered the truth…

Doug says...

What’s most interesting about this film for me is that it comes three years after the director Frank Capra’s superb It Happened One Night, and many years before his hugely famous It’s A Wonderful Life. And yet, it is easy to see how Capra is shifting his directorial focus from the witty screwball comedy of One Night and edging already towards the saccharine-drenched style of Wonderful Life. There are scenes in You Can’t Take It With You which are direct predecessors to crucial plot points in Wonderful Life, and the plot spins around the same theme - that friends are forever while money is ultimately unimportant. 

All this is dandy, except for the fact that Capra-esque films tend to nauseate rather than move (I found It’s A Wonderful Life dull and without any genuine ability to inspire emotion, thanks to its constant on-the-nose message). It Happened One Night managed blissfully to escape this plastering-on of ‘emotion’, mainly thanks to its rough and ready plot and the dry sparkling wit of its two lead actors. However - and here’s the interesting thing - because Capra has not reached full-Capra with this film, there are still moments that actually are quite affecting. It helps that the plot is not really about the two young lovers at the centre of the story, but actually about their respective fathers - one of whom is Lionel Barrymore playing Martin Vanderhof - a kind, friendly man who cares more about friends than money. Barrymore has a lot of big speeches about capitalism and communism, and at one point a tirade about dying alone and friendless being all that awaits some people. But unlike last week’s The Life of Emile Zola, Barrymore has enough talent and energy to push through these and ensure they don’t become mawkish. 

The real heart of Take It With You’s success however for me lay with Edward Arnold, an actor who apparently infuriated Capra with his inability to learn his lines, (this is despite Capra’s film technique of often getting actors to improvise their scenes a la Mike Leigh). We slowly (and it’s a beautifully paced change) get to see the rich banker Anthony P. Kirby realise how he has grasped for the wrong thing in life. A scene, late on in the film, has Arnold sitting still, saying very little, and yet managing to deliver an astonishing performance. It comes as no surprise then that Capra, despite being irritated by Arnold’s poor memory, still referred to him as being ‘a powerhouse on the screen’. There’s sentimental daftness - a daughter of the Sycamore family who dementedly insists on ballet dancing around the house, and a mother who uses kittens as paperweights for her dreadful-sounding novel transcripts. But overall the gawky sentimentality that would later overpower Capra’s work - and is mercifully absent in his greatest work It Happened One Night, isn’t allowed to dominate here. 

Highlight 

Edward Arnold’s measured and powerful transformation from corrupt banker to a man of harmonica-playing joviality is superb.

Lowlight

Jean Arthur and James Stewart (later to win an Oscar for The Philadelphia Story) don’t really have the acting chops to de-sentimentalise their long drawn-out love story. It’s where the film tips towards laughable rather than emotional. 

Mark 

5.5/10

Paul says...

How on earth did they come up with the title to this one? “We need a really memorable, punchy title that looks great in neon!” “Why don’t we just put 6 of the most common English words together?” “PERFECT!”

Last week’s Emile Zola was a real-life parable. You Can’t Take It With You covers similar love-affirming, corruption-of-power-hating territory but it’s made-up, and so, as Doug points out, the result is more idealised and sentimental. Frank Capra’s next film, Mr Smith Goes to Washington, also starring James Stewart, would be very similar but with a stronger political stance, rather than a family-based one.

However, unlike Doug, I was much more captivated by it. I loved the Sycamore family. A Grandfather who breaks his foot sliding down the bannister, a mother who writes atrocious plays, a father who illicitly makes fireworks, a daughter who desperately wants to dance despite having two left feet, and a son-in-law whose one talent is playing the xylophone. There’s also a pet raven, some sassy servants and a Russian dance teacher/wrestler thrown into the mix to create the sort of joyous, anarchic, socially-inept family that everyone aspires to. The ensemble scenes (in particular when the Sycamores meet the ultra-capitalist, adamantine Kirbys, and wind up in a jail cell together) are fast-paced, inventive and fun. So much so, that the central love story becomes pedestrian and uninteresting in comparison, and Stewart and Arthur are entirely overshadowed by Barrymore and Arnold. 

Like Emile Zola, this film tackles the late-30’s political climate more manifestly. The Kirbys represent the ambitious, avaricious, pseudo-patriotic upper echelons who ruined society’s welfare and inadvertently aided the rise of fascism. The Sycamores are one last attempt to remember humanity, and a frightened audience of 1938 would have supported them no-end. It’s not dissimilar to the values purported by Pixar in Up and The Incredibles. There were many times when I felt pangs of happiness and fear for the Sycamores, but beneath that veneer a modern eye can see some contrivance. It is revealed that the family patriarch does not pay his taxes- an act which, in 1938, may well have been inspirational but to me came across as selfish and overly-eristic. 

Another downside is that the film climaxes with an emotional courtroom scene (I say again, who DOESN’T love a climactic courtroom scene), one that could have tied up all characters and storylines in a very Shakespearean way, but then ambles on for another 45 minutes or so. 

But despite this, I laughed plenty of times, I empathised with the characters, and while Take It With You may be over-idealised, it still has important lessons of friendship and solidarity that many of our most predatory entrepreneurs and politicians should learn.

Highlight

The Sycamores have a “Home Sweet Home” sign that keeps falling down, but no matter what, someone always puts it back up. A lovely, subtle symbol of their resilience.

Lowlight

The film goes on 30-45 minutes too long. A quick re-write could have made it shorter and sweeter.

Mark

8/10

10. The Life of Emile Zola (1937)

Plot Intro

In the late-1800’s, Emile Zola (Paul Muni) was a hugely prolific and successful writer. The French equivalent of Charles Dickens, many of his novels were dedicated to exposing corruption and hypocrisy in society at the time. Then, in 1894, a Jewish-French soldier named Captain Alfred Dreyfus (Joseph Schildkraut), is wrongfully found guilty of providing military secrets to (wait for it…) GERMANS! He was banished to French Guiana, despite clear evidence of his innocence. Zola springs to Dreyfus’ assistance and risks his career and his liberty to save him.

Paul says...

This was a tough DVD to track down. The only freely available copy that could be played in the UK (and cost under £25) was on eBay, shipped over from China, and had a full Chinese menu (kudos to me for working out how to put on the English subtitles!) The subtitles were also fraught with spelling and grammar mistakes. But The Life of Emile Zola has turned out to be exactly the film I’ve been waiting for in this project- an obscure, little-known winner which turns out to be a hidden gem. 

On one level, it’s the “One just man against a corrupt society” tale. I’m a sucker for similar films such as Mr Smith Goes to Washington, Twelve Angry Men, A Man for All Seasons and Philadelphia, so it’s no surprise that Emile Zola had a knee-jerk liberal like me completely enthralled.

But on another level, it’s a stark warning against blind populist hate towards a particular people or person just because the authorities say they are bad. An admonition against letting social injustice happen due to your fear of speaking out. In 1937, with Hitler fully in power, and a post-Depression disenfranchised Europe falling into the onslaught of war, no film could have been more pertinent. Cavalcade discussed these topics in 1933, but Emile Zola attacks with full force. It’s stirring stuff, and Paul Muni’s lead performance is impassioned and transcendent. I gave a mental cheer after his big climactic speech in a courtroom (and who DOESN’T love a big climactic speech in a courtroom?!).

I couldn’t help but make comparisons to today’s society too. Dreyfus’ Judaism is hinted at (“Jew” is seen in writing once, and never spoken), but would have contributed towards society’s bias against him. We have a similar problem today in the far-right’s excessive condemnation of Islam. Also, the military’s desperate attempts to hide their corruptions and misjudgements which would humiliate and expose them can be easily likened to Trump’s blustering administration. Emile Zola became a poignant viewing not only in light of the society who lauded it at the time, but in light of the current political climate too. It has what, in my opinion, every Oscar winner should have- important lessons that still strike a chord today.

Politics aside, however, this is an inspirational film. I now have an inexplicable desire to write a best-selling series of novels about society and then rescue a victim of injustice from imprisonment. It’s the first film in our Oscars tour that has sent me through an entire spectrum of emotions, from anger, to sorrow, to total jubilation (leaving me almost exhausted). It’s slick, coherent and momentous, but above all, it’s relevant, unlike the patchier films of the ’30’s. 

Watch it, I implore you.

Highlight

Zola’s big courtroom speech, exposing corruption and desperately appealing to the authorities’ sense of honour. It’s long, but it’s immense and important to be listened to.

Lowlight

Some awkward subtitle work from whoever put this DVD together.

Mark

10/10  

Doug says...

This is not a very good film. The film footage is grainy and stilted, the language trite and over-exaggerated, and the courtroom scene is a poor foreboding of the superb courtroom scenes yet to come over the next decades (think Scent of a Woman, A Man For All Seasons). In fact all the facets of it add up to what is a slightly ponderous and certainly overwritten two hours. 

What saves it is the story. Because it’s actually a cracking, and most importantly - true, story. Emile Zola is a French author of a series of hugely important novels that reflect the worries of his time, just as Dickens did over in London. We see him travel through his times of poverty to his rich and successful lifestyle which he abandons to fight this particular cause of injustice. Coming as it does during the rise of anti-Semitism and Hitler’s power in Germany, the fact this is about a Jew who is unfairly attacked by the military, legal courts and the State does not go unnoticed. 

It’s a universal story of power and corruption being beaten by truth, which is the basis of many great films. But what it has in story, it lacks in pretty much everything else. The acting isn’t particularly wonderful - and the acting styles are so outdated that I found myself cackling at the dramatic poses they elongate themselves into. It’s not terrible, but it’s not hugely engaging, and there’s far too many speeches all through the thing. 

The film builds to a courtroom speech which was kind of expected, and I was pushing for it to be a real corker, with lots of fire and brimstone. But what we got was Paul Muni (famous for starring in biographies) doing some shouting about truth and freedom which could have been edited down to about two minutes and retained all the information given. I see in it the trail being laid to far more powerful court scenes through the years, but this one isn’t a winner. Nor is the film itself. 

It’s fun to notice the Hollywood actors of the time weaving their careers around each other. Paul Muni starred in a film (the same year as he did this) with Luise Rainer - who you may remember was in last week’s The Great Ziegfeld. And we’re seeing actors names appear in each other’s films, rendering the idea that 1937’s Hollywood wasn’t that big a pool of talent. I’m interested to see how this carries on as we go into the ‘40s. 

My overall impression is that it’s not awful - and it’s not dull - but it is overwritten and the scenes that are intended to stun you into awe and anger actually come over as so on-the-nose that they’re almost comedic (when the innocent captain is captured he’s actually playing soldiers with his kids, for God’s sake).

Highlight

The fact that Hollywood produced a film directly challenging anti-semitism in response to Hitler’s rise is pretty awesome.

Low light

The fact that it pointlessly replaced Zola’s INFAMOUS headline ‘J’accuse’ with ‘I Accuse!’ because apparently cinema-goers couldn’t work that one out. Huh. 

Mark

4/10

9. The Great Ziegfeld (1936)

Plot Intro

The film is essentially a whistle-stop biopic of Florenz Ziegfeld Jr (William Powell), from his struggles as a manager of sideshow entertainers, through to the creation of his infamous musical revues known as Ziegfeld’s Follies; from his first marriage to singer Anna Held (Luise Rainer), to his second marriage to Billie

Doug says...

Florenz Ziegfeld is a legend, albeit one that people aren’t particularly aware of these days. Ziegfeld’s Follies was a series of stage shows dripping with opulence, grandeur and showgirls all posing prettily with masses of silk curtains wafting everywhere, based on the famous Parisienne Folies Bergere. This film not only sets out to tell the story of Ziegfeld’s rise to fame, but also to display the acts of the Follies themselves, capturing the excessive sets and costumes on celluloid forever. Do they succeed? Well, yes - to an extent. 

It’s the acts themselves that make this film stand out. Without them, it’s the general story of the wheeler-dealer Ziegfeld who uses his charm and wit to convince various people to lend him money, their talents and their theatres. He appears to be a marketing genius, getting women’s hearts pumping by asking them to touch his weightlifter act’s biceps, and creating rumours that one of his stars bathes daily in milk. It’s a tribute to how people are often far more interested in the details around an act than in the act itself. 

I particularly liked how we got to see a few actual Ziegfeldians appear - the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz Ray Bolger actually began his career in the Follies and appears as himself here, doing some nifty splits and acrobatics, while (perhaps most interestingly for all musical theatre fans), Fannie Brice - a comedienne and stage performer) plays herself performing on stage and being hired by Ziegfeld. Brice herself went on to be the subject of a pretty well known musical called Funny Girl, starring none other than Barbra Streisand. All we need is for the Barbra Streisand musical to kick off and we have ourselves the making of a wormhole. 

It’s worth noting that no bank account was spared in the making of this film. One scene - an onstage Follies song - A Pretty Girl Is Like A Melody - features hundreds of performers, a wedding-cake-tier style staging, and according to Wikipedia, a cost of several million dollars for one scene alone. It’s nothing if not spectacular. 

But that’s the thing. This is the first film I’ve seen where I’ve cheated and Wikipedia-ed to find out when the bloody thing would end. It’s three hours and it feels like five. And while there’s some good performances (Luise Rainer is particularly noticeable as Ziegfeld’s impassioned first wife and Lisa Kudrow lookalike Virginia Bruce has a lot of fun as the drunkard chorus girl Audrey), it drags. Spectacular? Without a doubt. In need of quicker editing? Desperately. 

Highlight 

The Ziegfeld Follies scenes, where we get to see these spectacular stage pieces in full Golden-Age glory, are spectacular. 

Lowlight

The Ziegfeld Follies scenes. Once you’ve seen two, you don’t really need the next seventy four. They also add a very unneeded hour or so onto the running time. 

Mark 

5/10

Paul says...

According to Wikipedia (yeah, I know), The Great Ziegfeld was a colossal hit in 1936. It cost $2 million to make, a phenomenal number at the time. So large, in fact, that the original production company, Universal, had to sell the rights to MGM before it all became too much for them. In the end, it earned over $4 million, which works out to a roughly $40 million profit in today’s money. However, Wikipedia then goes on to point out that critical revisions of the film have found it to be not as wonderful as audiences of the 1930’s apparently believed.

And this is a pretty fair assessment. Ziegfeld is spectacular, there’s no denying that. Masses of extras, costumes that would make a drag queen gasp, and musical numbers so extravagant that they look like Eurovision has vomited violently on them. All of these make this film a treat for the eyes, even if it’s still in black and white. It’s also worth noting that we’ve now reached a point in our Oscars journey where production values are much more slick and smooth, and acting styles more naturalistic- gone are the rusty, patchwork, over-acting of The Broadway Melody and Cimarron.

The trouble with these huge musical set pieces is that they don’t advance the plot. There’s none at all during a ponderous first hour (in which several over-written dialogue scenes could have done with some ruthless editing- preferably with a scythe), and then several in quick succession, which grinds the plot to a sudden halt in place of pure visuals. Not only does this make for a stodgy, stop-and-go structure, but it also draws attention to the fact that these wonderful re-enactments of Ziegfeld’s Follies are entirely style and absolutely no substance. The first big one, involving a wedding-cake structure and a full one-take sweeping shot of it, is magnificent. The next seven are lovely but they get old very quickly when you realise that they’re just taking up time. 

Also, we really need to discuss Luise Rainer. She acts like she’s been injected with full-sugar Coca Cola mixed with Speed. Arms, facial expressions and tears are thrown about liberally. True, this is the character she is playing, but I was struggling to decide whether I liked it or not. Like the musical numbers, on the one hand it’s a delightful contrast to the vacuous dialogue that opens the film. On the other, I felt nothing for it. It’s fun, it’s impressive, but where hard-hitting, nuanced emotions should be apparent, all I saw was a big black hole. Luise Rainer may have won the Oscar for Best Actress for this (and, if the Oscar was based solely on enthusiasm, she might as well be MADE into a statuette rather than merely win one), but she ain’t no Meryl Streep.

I didn’t outrightly hate The Great Ziegfeld. It could be delightfully decadent and it made me want to go to a real Ziegfeld Follies show to witness the scale of it with my own eyes. This proves why it was such a big hit at the time. With the Great Depression still fresh in the heads of its audience, fictional opulence and decor would be the perfect escapism. Trouble is, with colourful epics such as Gone With the Wind and The Wizard of Oz just around the corner, and The Sound of Music, Oliver!, Moulin Rouge and Chicago contributing to the musical genre over the next century, it’s no surprise that Ziegfeld has become overshadowed. 

Highlight

The “wedding cake” set during one of the Follies. The director wisely allows the visuals to do the work, and just films the whole thing in one, steady camera shot. I defy anyone not to be impressed.

Lowlight

The opening hour. Far too much dialogue and too much time on characters and plot points that are barely explored again. Yawns-ville.

Mark

4/10