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Show People (1928)
A Perfect Vehicle for Marion Davies
We'll never really know if the influence of newspaper, real estate and mining tycoon William Randolph Hearst helped the love of his life in her ambitions, or effectively put the kibosh on the career of Marion Davies. Marion, herself, laid out her dilemma in her as-told-to memoir "The Times We Had," claiming that Hearst's heavy-handed promotion of her didn't exactly endear her to the public, and that it created expectations of her so high that it would lead to disappointment. (That book of recollections also confirmed the belief of some that Hearst controlled every aspect of her films, even dialog and direction.) And so there will always be the question: would Marion Davies have won more respect among critics and appreciation of the public without her benefactor constantly horning in? Marion was not particularly deft in drama, but in the area of comedy, there is no question she was one of cinema's most adroit, effortless and effective comediennes. A perfect example is "Show People." Here, Marion gets to do what she does best: poke fun at her contemporaries (in particular, Mae Murray of the bee-stung lips), Hollywood, film-making, and herself. The story is simple. Lovely, perky blond Peggy Pepper of Georgia arrives in Hollywood with dreams of being a great dramatic actress. She meets a Mack Sennett-type comedy clown named Billy Boone, who gets her a job throwing pies and taking blasts of seltzer "on the chin" in popular comic shorts. This leads to Peggy Pepper's ascension to over-acted, schmaltzy "high art" films, in which her new billing is Patricia Pepoire. And with her new status as a serious dramatic actress come aspirations (delusions, perhaps) of royalty. Here, Marion really socks it to silent superstar Mae Murray as well as her real-life friend Gloria Swanson, in razor-sharp parody. In a co-starring but secondary role is William Haines as Peggy's helper and love interest. Haines is wonderful as the typical over-the-top baggy-pants movie comic of that wonderful silent era. Mostly forgotten now, Haines was enormously popular at the time (1928), handsome, likable and athletic, but would soon be a casualty of both the switch to talkies, as well as personal discord with MGM boss Louis B. Mayer.
Those viewers who are unfamiliar with Davies' work will get an true sample of her worth, and Davies fans who haven't seen "Show People" will get confirmation that aside from being beautiful, she was, when given excellent scripts and direction, one of filmdom's most talented comediennes, Hearst or no Hearst.
The Mothers-In-Law: On Again, Off Again, Lohengrin (1967)
An Early 50s Joy Broadcast in the Late 60s
Desi Arnaz might today primarily be known as Lucy's husband both on screen and off, but he was a great deal more, and I'll start with his career after being one of a handful of MGM's roster of "Latin Lovers." Arnaz had the business acumen of a producer and the technical talents of a director. He had his hand in the success of I Love Lucy every step of the way. After Desi and Lucy divorced, he let Lucy buy him out of Desilu. After some years of recuperating from the hustle and bustle of acting and running a studio, he got sufficiently restless to get his feet wet again, so to speak, in 1967. He formed Desi Arnaz Productions, and enticed his old friend and employee Eve Arden to come back to series television. (Arden's Our Miss Brooks series was a Desilu production.) The threadbare theme of The Mothers-in-Law was a common one; two families with little in common and distinctly different points of view are thrown together in funny situations. One could say that the Ricardos and the Mertzes of I Love Lucy followed that pattern. Kaye Ballard, a quirky singer-comedienne almost a generation younger than Arden, fit the bill of the other mother-in-law perfectly. Herbert Rudley had been acting professionally on stage, screen and television for almost forty years before getting the role of Arden's stuffy attorney husband. Roger C. Carmel, an imposing, lumbering bear of a man and the least experienced of the parents' quartet, was a deft scene stealer as the full-of-himself television writer husband of Ballard. The premiere episode set things up for the series which would run two seasons (when seasons were long), and later, according to Arnaz, was only canceled to make room for a new Bill Cosby sitcom. The traditional Hubbards (Arden and Rudley) and the less conventional Buells (Ballard and Carmel) would alternately duke it out and make up as next door neighbors and in-laws. Deborah Walley, formerly one of filmdom's Gidgets, and Jerry Fogel, a likable but clearly awkward young actor, played the newlyweds who would be, on a very regular basis, helped, coddled, and meddled with. The piano in the swimming pool gag is typical of the 50s-style humor this series would bring into the Mod Times of 1967 and 1968. Arnaz would direct or appear in several episodes as a visiting Spanish matador, and it was always a pleasure to see him alive and well. The Mothers-in-Law seemed old-fashioned when it was broadcast, which might account for its less-than-hit status then. But it is a delightful nostalgic treat now. The cornball scripts, right from the get-go, were a problem, but the comedic sparks flying between Arden and Ballard more than make up for them. Arden's forte, like Jack Benny's, was reaction. Mostly-gentle sarcasm, withering looks and a vaudeville-sized trunk full of takes for every occasion. She possessed one of the most recognizable voices in show business, and even in 1967 was a statuesque beauty that carried off the mod print outfits of that fun-filled year. But it is more often than not that Ballard steals whatever scene she's in. Plump, energetic, always sporting Colleen Moore's famous Dutch Boy hairstyle of the silent era, we know she's going to go off like a firecracker, it is just a matter of when. The premiere episode pretty much tells us everything we need to know about them, and as every situation comedy is supposed to, it sets up our expectations. Expect a little groaning on occasion, but mostly hearty laughter. And it's a pleasure to note the absence of electronic yucks. A studio audience provides genuine laughter and, on occasion, applause.
Lana Turner... a Daughter's Memoir (2001)
Busted
No, I am not referring to Lana Turner's figure. I am stating that it is impossible for anybody who has any genuine interest and knowledge in the topics of Lana Turner, MGM, Warner Brothers (where Lana's career began), Juanita Moore, legendary director Douglas Sirk, or the Golden Age of film-making in general not to catch on quickly that no such genuine interest or knowledge is apparent on the part of those responsible for Lana Turner... A Daughter's Memoir. I am unfortunately reminded of those tributes to Luise Rainer. All videographers know about this remarkable actress now is that she's REALLY old and won two Oscars back-to-back. They wheel her in, interrupt her when she wants to speak, applaud, then push her out. These entrepreneurs get money and self-promotion without really caring. And it is the same case here. All they know is the same old sweater girl turned hormone-driven good-time gal and gangster's girlfriend who, by the way, posed-acted sometimes.
There is absolutely no compelling evidence that the narrator knows even the basic stats of Turner's life and career, or had even viewed Imitation of Life, for example, even once. Yes, Robert Wagner had been a B+ list film actor, then later a TV star. But that does not ensure he knows any more on the topics than the producer, writer or director of this drivel. It is both displeasing and dismaying that so many others, serious film students, film historians, legitimate biographers... those with a sincere interest in Turner, SHOULD have had access to all the interviewees and artifacts of Turner's life, and done a conscientious job. The only reason I give it 4 instead of 1 is that some work was done as far as tracking down some of Lana's former friends and colleagues, which counts for something. But in the end it is like the very amusing episode of Seinfeld in which George, to pad his intellectual resume, claims to have read War and Peace. Of course, he is always on the verge of getting busted, which is hilarious. Lana Turner... A Daughter's Memoir is not so funny. Many documentaries and factoid-type books have been put out on the topic of this very interesting, underrated actress, who just happened to be beautiful. Not one, including this one, does her justice.