The Battle of the Sexes (1928)

Originally posted to Facebook on 10/20/2018

The Battle of the Sexes was our thirteenth and final film from 1928. It is the fifth film we've seen directed by D.W. Griffith, but the first since 1920's Way Down East. It is also the second time we've seen Phyllis Haver, after seeing her in 1927's Chicago, and the first time we've seen Jean Hersholt, who was a well-known character actor in the late silent and early sound era, but is more famous as the namesake of the Academy Award for contributions to humanitarian causes.

The change in D.W. Griffith's fortunes since Way Down East is quite dramatic. This is a eighty-eight-minute low-budget film, and there is nothing that would indicate to the viewer that its director just fifteen years earlier had the clout to make films requiring thousands of extras and enormous sets recreating ancient Babylon. Its story, too, is relatively simple. Jean Hersholt is real estate magnate, with a wife (played by Belle Bennett), and two near-adult children, played by Sally O'Neil and William Bakewell. Hersholt becomes infatuated with Phyllis Haver, who is young, selfish, and carefree -- a role similar to the one she played in Chicago -- and his marriage and finances both suffer.

Overall this movie is mainly interesting for the people involved in making it. It is not particularly striking or memorable taken on its own merits, though it is also not quite terrible; this mirrors Hersholt's lead performance, which is not actively bad, but is also not dynamic nor sympathetic. Haver, on the other hand, has a echo of the charisma she showed in Chicago, but has much less material to work with here.

As mentioned above, the low budget makes this movie atypical compared to the other Griffith films we've seen, and results in a claustrophobic look, with most of the action occurring in either Hersholt's or Haver's apartment, with a brief detour to a dance hall. Perhaps the only thing that makes this recognizably a Griffith film is his focus on how poorly women are treated by men and by society. This concern is not presented in a modern way, and it is deployed selectively and usually paternalistically, but it is a connective tissue between this film and his earlier work.

So that concludes 1928. My goal of watching four films a year has admittedly gotten a little bit out of control, and unfortunately 1929 doesn't look much better. But I've added our planned films for 1930 to the spreadsheet, and for that year at least I've managed hold the line at five. On the other hand, before moving on to 1929, I've decided to go back and watch three earlier films we've missed, starting with 1924's Michael, which is the second film in this project directed by Carl Theodor Dreyer. The list, as always, is here: https://bit.ly/2lZtfmT

Chicago (1927)

Originally posted to Facebook on 6/19/2018

Chicago was our eighth film from 1927, and would be familiar to modern audiences because of the 2002 movie of the same name. There are actually several versions of Chicago, all based on the 1926 play, which was in turn loosely based on actual events. Fifteen years after this film, there was a 1942 version titled Roxie Hart starring Ginger Rogers. Then there was the 1975 Broadway musical, and its 1996 revival, which is the second longest running Broadway show ever. I haven't seen the 1942 movie (though perhaps we'll get a chance as part of this project if we ever make it out of the twenties), but I have seen the 2002 film and the Broadway version, and it is surprising how similar this film is to both of those.

The plot concerns Roxie Hart (played by Phyllis Haver), who kills a man presumed to be her boyfriend (played by Eugene Pallette, whom we saw way back in 1916's Gretchen the Greenhorn.) The subsequent trial becomes a media circus, and her husband (Victor Varconi) hires a shady lawyer to defend her (played by Robert Edeson) who thrives on the tabloid nature of the case, coaching Hart to exploit a gullible public and jury. This is also the outline of the other versions I've seen, perhaps the biggest difference being that the part of Velma Kelly, a defendant in a similar case, is much smaller in this movie. Additionally Hart's husband is a more sympathetic character than in the later versions.

But it is still quite cynical about the press, and the judicial system, and human nature in general -- though it does have a bit of a moralistic streak that is less prominent in the later versions. I'm not sure it has an exact analog among the American films we've seen, which as a group are generally more sincere, but its cynicism is also different than the cynicism of the German expressionists -- than Dr. Mabuse or The Last Laugh, for instance. Those films had a heavier hand, and usually a tinge of melancholy or even of anger. Chicago's cynicism is lighter and more buoyant, and definitely has a stronger comedic streak.

Excepting Pallette, who had a relatively small role, none of the main characters are played by actors we've seen before, nor have we previously seen anything by the director, Frank Urson. Despite that it gives every appearance of being a top-shelf studio picture, and Haver particularly gives an entertaining, showy star performance as the selfish, shallow Hart. I'm sure there is some story or other as to why Phyllis Haver did not have the career of some of her better-remembered contemporary actresses, like Clara Bow or Marion Davies, but I don't think you would have been able to guess it based upon this film. She also has the distinction of playing one of the leads in 1927's The Way of All Flesh, the only lost film with an Oscar winning performance (by Emil Jannings.)

Next week we'll see our ninth film from 1927, The Red Mill, directed by Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle under a pseudonym. It will also be the second film we've seen starring Marion Davies. The list, as always, is here: https://bit.ly/2lZtfmT