She Blogged By Night

You know when I said I'd see you on the New Year? I accidentally lied.

First of all, important notice: World O' Crap has moved! Hackers hacked, that's all I know. Now World O'Crap is at a new blog address. Go! Enjoy!

And now, some lovely Gerda Maurus for your between-holiday enjoyment. Few of these photos do her justice, by the way. She is much more dynamic in film than in stills.

Gustav von Wangenheim (sitting), Gerda Maurus, Fritz Lang behind her, and Gustal Gstettenbaur to the right, courtesy Gustav von Wangenheim Tribute Page.

Hot cookies, Agnes, "Sunnyside Up" (1929) is going to be on TCM! Twice! It's on this Tuesday, the 21st, at 8:00 p.m. Eastern -- that's prime time. If you miss it, it's going to be on March 16 at 12:00 noon Eastern

That gorgeous lobby card can be seen in all its enormous glory by clicking on it... and I want to direct you to the site I found it from: The WalterFilm Online Vintage Poster/Photo Museum. It's absolutely glorious. You'll lose an entire weekend there, so maybe save it until Monday so you can kill time at work instead of cutting into your free time. I know that's what I'm going to do. Note that much of it is in Swedish, but enough is in English that you should be able to navigate just fine. As long as you know either Swedish or English.

This year's TCM Remembers premiered yesterday, December 12th:

It was a complete accident that I caught all 3 of the Edna Mae Oliver murder mystery vehicles recently. A few months ago, I recorded "The Penguin Pool Murder" because of my ongoing and probably never-to-be-completed Mae Clarke mini project, which has been going on for years now. Years. I don't know what's wrong with me.


Anyhow, the Hildegarde Withers series. This series consists of six films that ran from 1932 to 1937, with only the first three starring Edna Mae Oliver, and the remaining three with Helen Broderick and Zasu Pitts. A seventh film starring Eve Arden in 1972 was made with the Hildegarde Withers character, and Billboard reported that a TV pilot called "The Amazing Miss Withers" was filmed in 1955, starring Agnes Moorehead. I have no idea if the pilot ever aired.  But despite four other actresses playing the role, Edna Mae is the definitive Hildegarde, and it's because of her birthday in November that I managed to follow up "Penguin Pool" (1932) with "Murder on the Blackboard" (1934) and "Murder on a Honeymoon" (1935).

Hildegarde is a frumpy middle-aged schoolteacher who manages to get mixed up in murders on a regular basis, much to the chagrin of Police Inspector Oscar Piper (James Gleason). In the first film, "The Penguin Pool Murder," Hildegarde is at the local aquarium with her students at the same time trophy wife Gwen Parker (Mae Clarke) is there to secretly meet her former lover Philip (Donald "Slightly Less Bland than Donald Woods" Cook). Gwen's rich husband Gerald is anonymously alerted to their assignation and confronts them, only to be clocked in the face by Philip. He's left unconscious near a large tank but, moments later, he's found in the tank, dead and doing that creepy half-floating kind of thing corpses like to do. Gwen and Philip protest their innocence. Complicating matters are the aquarium manager's motive to kill Gerald Parker, the presence of a notorious criminal at the aquarium, and Hildegarde's own hatpin being used in the crime.




The banter between Edna Mae and James Gleason is the primary reason to watch these films. Edna Mae, however, has a style that at best can be called old fashioned. She looks straight at the camera while delivering many of her punchlines, and her stuffy and judgmental reactions are delivered almost identically throughout the film. Gleason, too, had very little variety in his standard flustered performance. I can only assume both were directed to perform this way specifically, as Edna Mae, while irritating, does not mug for the camera constantly in her other films... but I say that with the caveat that I have not seen her earlier Wheeler and Woolsey collaborations.

At the end of "Penguin Pool," once the murderer is revealed, the Police Inspector grabs Hildegarde and they run off to get married. Married! That's the real reason I wanted to watch the next two films, to see if they really did get married or not.




Short answer: No. Er, that's the long answer, too. The second installment of the series was "Murder on the Blackboard," released over a year and a half after "Penguin Pool" and with no mention of Hildy and Oscar being married or even involved.



There is definite reference to "Penguin Pool" in this film, so while there was a deliberate link to "Penguin Pool," I guess the idea introduced in the first film that Hildy and Oscar would be married was discarded. Some mention of it would have been nice, though, just to get it out of the way.




MotB takes place at Hildegarde's grade school, where fellow teacher Louise is having some undisclosed trouble. She carries a gun with her to work and is frightened and worried. We learn that Louise used to date the same man school secretary Jane is now engaged to, and also that the school janitor is owed money by Louise. Poor Louise is found shot in the head by Hildegarde after school hours. To add insult to injury, someone stole her body and put it in the school furnace while Hildegarde and the police weren't looking.




He looks like a Keystone Kop, but he's actually the angry, drunken German janitor. In "The Black Room" (1935), one of my favorite Karloff films, he plays "Josef, Resentful Villager with Heavy Moustache" according to the IMDb. That may or may not be true, given the mistake in credits for the third Hildy movie... but more on that in a minute.

I think that, of the three Oliver films in this series, MotB is my favorite, even though this film is not 100% Regis Toomey free. In general, I like my films to be completely free of Toomeys, Herberts, and Van Pattens, although I will occasionally make an exception. The plot is a little grittier and the dialogue is more naturally witty as opposed to forced as the other two films sometimes are; the best line occurs when Hildegard tips a taxi driver a small amount and he balks. "You're a taxi driver, not a gigolo," she reminds him. Ha!




The third installment is "Murder on a Honeymoon," released less than a year after MotB and with a decidedly implausible plot. Hildy travels to Catalina Island on vacation. While on a small sea plane, a loudmouthed jerk seated near her dies inexplicably, and Hildegarde is sure it's murder. The local authorities aren't interested, so she contacts Oscar back in New York (I think), and he flies down to Catalina to solve the case.



Writer Robert Benchley and actress Lola Lane cannot save this movie, although it has a lot of potential and could have been the best of the bunch. The mystery part of the plot is not bad, just poorly executed. Lola is hardly in the film at all, which makes no sense, as she's the undeniable star in every scene she's in. She just commands the camera away from everyone else by her mere presence. In films like "Hollywood Hotel," she could be part of an ensemble because much of the rest of the cast had the same cinematic charisma, but in MoaH she unintentionally steals her scenes. I'm going to go out on a limb here and state that the problem with this film is the direction; to paraphrase a famous quote, as a director, Lloyd Corrigan is a great character actor.



Speaking of character actors, Willie Best is credited in this film as "Sleep 'n' Eat." I am not joking: That was his official name in several films. While MoaH was the last film he where he was credited with this unbelievably racist name, he spent much of the 1930s and 40s playing characters with such progressive names as Drowsy, Sleepy, Sambo, Catfish, and Warts. Apparently, the studio liked it that way.

Also also plus, the IMDb has an actor called "Mr. The Dog Jones" as "Sleep 'n' Eats" in an uncredited part. Lord have mercy, some spazzy IMDb contributor got confused again. The dog's name in the movie is "Mr. Jones," and of course "Sleep 'n' Eat" (not plural) is the alias of actor Willie Best, so I guess those two facts jumbled together comprise the bizarre IMDb credit. Looks like I'll be back on the IMDb trying to get that corrected, too. And it's been there since at least 2004! Remember that when using the IMDb for a reference, kids.



I kind of feel bad for the person who submitted that credit, though. Imagine thinking how cute the name "Sleep 'n' Eat" is for a dog and submitting it to the IMDb without any idea that it was actually a demeaning, racist name given to a human actor. In a way, I hope they never discover their mistake.



These three Hildegarde Winters movies are a mixed bag, and their entertainment value is heavily dependent on how much you like Oliver and Gleason. The mysteries themselves were a bit dull, nearly railroad plots, so the series lacks the charm of other series' like The Saint or The Lone Wolf. And, unlike George Sanders or Warren William, Edna Mae is best in small doses.

 
A little sexy Anna May Wong cheesecake to get my friend Ivan's blood pumping -- and everyone else's, as well.

(P.S. Yes, that photo of Anna May with the guitar has been edited in what looks like an old-fashioned newspaper manner with white paint and black ink. Oh, Photoshop, you have saved us from so much.)

In celebration of the IMDb finally correcting their entry for "The Locked Door" (1929) and removing Marie Prevost as a cast member, here are two promos from the film I forgot to post nearly 2 years ago:




I was told that the person who added Marie to the cast list had not contributed anything else to the IMDb, yet I'm steeling myself for the moment when they return and re-add Marie as "roomate."

And yes, I hold a grudge like a brass ring.

I would like to also call your attention to Louie's fine El Brendel blog. He has posted some promotional stills of El in drag for the short "Okay, Jose" which I recently blogged about. You want to go see them. Yes, you do. I guarantee you will not see anything more disturbing today.

Note: Posting will be light around here while I recover from the GI virus that is currently making the rounds.  Thank you, Thanksgiving holiday travelers, for bringing it to our fair city. Our town's supply of illudium phosdex virii was alarmingly low.

Frances Marion and "The Wind" at Mythical Monkey Writes About the Movies

"Even for Talkies, the Women Who Wrote Worked Silently" by Cari Beauchamp

"Hollywood Pioneer Frances Marion: The Most Renowned Female Scriptwriter of the 20th Century" by P. Ryan Anthony.

Since I often watch a short before I watch a full-length feature film, I have been toying with the idea of posting both a short and a feature in one entry. Now, I'm finally going to get off my hinder and do it, no less than three full years after I first thought about it. I'm nothing if not consistent in my procrastination. So welcome to the first installment of Short Subject, Feature Film, a name that took hours to come up with, so feel free to bask in its genius.



"Okay, Jose" is a 1935 short subject in lovely early Technicolor, and the TCM print of this short is astonishingly good. Louie at Give Me The Good Old Days! alerted us to this short a few months ago, and I finally got around to watching it recently. I shamefully admit I laughed. A lot.

El is Knute Knudsen, hapless Swede, whose car breaks down in Mexico. Extremely dangerous bandito Jose (Julian Rivero) happens by and gives Knute a ride on his horse. They get drunk in what is the funniest part of the film.


La policia arrive and arrest Knute while Jose gets away. They think Knute is in cahoots with el bandito, but Knute talks them into letting him out so he can capture Jose and bring him back. If he succeeds they will let him go. Knute disguises himself as a bandito and catches up with Jose, telling him that he knows where some beautiful blonde girls are that Jose can, erm, date. El's disguise is silly, but his accent is all over the place, sometimes Swedish, sometimes Mexican, sometimes French, and it absolutely cracked me up.

Knute went into the plan assuming la policia would obtain a beautiful blonde girl but they refuse, so Knute was left to his own devices:

El Brendel: Hot Mess.

Today's feature is "Broadway Melody of 1936." I watched this because I am on a huge Jack Benny kick lately, although I have discovered that he is usually not used to his full capabilities in film. Radio and television seemed to showcase his talents better which, to state the obvious, is certainly why he was more successful in those media than in film. Which is too bad, because he looks pretty good in glorious nitrate-laden black and white film. Yeah, you heard me: Jack Benny is hot.

It's not just Jack, though. This entire film looks damn hot, and boy, did I want to like this movie. It's your typical singing-dancing-romancing extravaganza with luscious costumes and set pieces. It introduced one of my favorite songs, "I've Got a Feeling You're Fooling". It has Jack Benny, Una Merkel, Robert Taylor, and June Knight who I loved...



...despite someone in the makeup department trying very earnestly to make her look like a poodle.

"Broadway Melody of 1936" was nominated for 3 Oscars including Best Picture and it won one for Best Dance Direction (the "I've Got a Feeling You're Fooling" number).  The film was a huge hit that spawned yet another "Broadway Melody" sequel.  Yet I just couldn't like this movie.

Eleanor Powell rubs me the wrong way. I honestly don't understand why the studio was trying so hard to make Eleanor Powell happen. Her fast tap is impressive, but in the spectacular silver "You Are My Lucky Star" dance number in this film, you can see clearly that she favors one side of her body to another. As I've seen it before in other dancers, and there is probably a term for this, but I couldn't tell you what it is. It's distracting and it prevents the dancer from achieving symmetry. In Powell's case, about halfway during this number, she does a high kick alternating her legs, and her left obviously kicks higher and easier than her right. Her right arm is similarly less graceful. However, there are some obviously bad chorus dancers in this number, too. You can see them screwing up frequently, either out of time or doing the wrong move. Perhaps this number wasn't rehearsed well. Still, Powell can't act and she certainly can't sing: She's dubbed by Marjorie Lane.



When I dislike a film personality that is almost universally praised -- and face it, folks, this happens a lot -- I always wonder if there's something about me that keeps me from really getting a performance. Maybe I'm quirky.

Speaking of film personalities everyone else likes but me, am I the only one who is freaked right the hell out by Buddy Ebsen? He's fine in "Breakfast at Tiffany's" and he's the second best part of "The Beverly Hillbillies" -- the best part being the way professional hunk o' stuff Max Baer fills out his jeans (stop judging me!) -- but he always gave me the creeps on "Barnaby Jones" and in old movies. If you want to scare the shit out of me, and you will, make me watch the dance number with him and a tiny little Judy Garland in "Broadway Melody of 1938".


Jack Benny is Bert Keeler, gossip columnist for a big radio station. His boss is mad because all Keeler reports on are actresses who are expecting a "happy event". He demands Keeler get some real dish, and Keeler accidentally stumbles onto a doozy.  Actually, his sidekick Snoop stumbles upon it, but the less said about Snoop the better. I'm pretending he doesn't exist.



Broadway producer Robert Gordon (impossibly hot Robert Taylor) has taken up with rich widow Lillian Brent (June Knight) so she will finance his next play, on the promise that she will get the lead role. Gordon is so upset that Keeler reports this in his gossip segment that he storms into Keeler's office and decks him; punching Keeler becomes a running gag. Keeler plots revenge by creating a fictitious French actress newly arrived to the States, hoping that Gordon will clamor to hire her for the lead in his play, causing all sorts of trouble for him with the rich widow and ending in embarrassing publicity.


Meanwhile, Irene Foster (Eleanor Powell) shows up in town, looking for Gordon. They dated in high school and now she hopes he'll get her a job in one of his shows. Gordon tells her to go back home, but his secretary Kitty (Una Merkel) helps try to get Irene a job. Wacky hijinks ensue, resulting in Irene pretending to be the fake French actress. Music and dancing happen along the way. Happy endings are ensured.


This is Frances Langford in the final "You Are My Lucky Star" number, in a delectable tux in front of a fabulous art deco set. Check out the neon on the left. There are several references to Garbo in this film, mainly Taylor twice saying a woman is "his Garbo." This is a little jarring, as BM1936 came out a year and a half before "Camille", and there doesn't seem to be any actual reason to conjure up Garbo for this film, at least not to the extent that they do.