So now I'm relegated to writing about films that arise deep dissatisfaction. Last year, 2014, continues to be the year of cinema that underwhelms and annoys. And in the case of Gone Girl, I would say we have found the biggest example of cinematic tripe disguised as critically praised masterpiece. From all corners (88% Rottentomatoes, 79% Metacritic), this film has gotten heaps of praise. In this day and age, that's not necessarily saying anything though. Today's critical establishment is made up of numerous self made critics, the likes of which can gain access to these sites through blogs or online "zines" without any actual significant time building up a reputation over the years. Heck even I could be one of them if I really wanted to. The years of Siskel and Ebert are so far behind us, it's almost comical with which we look to sites like RT or Metacritic to tell us that a film is great, due to the network of nobody's that make up the data set. But I guess I'm not surprised that it's a Fincher film that is drawing my ire. I find his cinema to be stilted, manipulative and misogynistic. Gone Girl continues his grand tradition. It is far and away the worst film of 2014 that I've seen, as it positions itself as some kind of intelligent, pulpy noir, but in actuality, is a manipulative, pretentious, misogynistic piece of trash.
One of my main issues with the film is the way that it shifts point of view to serve the needs of suspense and entertainment. The first hour carefully avoids telling us certain information in order to set up the final 90 minutes. We're not even privy to the Ben Affleck character's every move in order to build suspicion of his character, when in actuality, the story never follows through on this point of view, continually shifting to the Rosamund Pike character's voice over in flashbacks. These flashbacks near the beginning are deliberately manipulated to allow us to believe she's the innocent voice from the grave. But it's only the lack of information provided by the director that deliberately avoids telling us her true story until the entertainment requires the switch of tone in the second half. If it's one thing I can't stand, it's a director whose film only becomes entertainment through bait and switch. Literally, the suspense and structure of the entire film revolves around the director leading us on through avoidance of complete information. If you think back to shifting points of view in Rashomon (1950), one realizes it was done to speak to the audience about truth. Shifting points of view in Gone Girl are only utilized to keep us needlessly guessing. I literally cannot understand how the critical masses were foolish enough to allow themselves to be blindly entertained by such manipulative and self-serving cinema. Literally the first hour is pointless set-up to serve the needs of the switcheroo. As was put well by another review, this is a cinema of obfuscation.
This is not to mention the extreme misogynism of the film. Every female character in this film is either a fool, a gossip, an easy woman, or a psycho. The lying and cheating husband is positioned as practically a Saint in this film compared to all the women. The Detective Rhonda Boney character is shown to be slow to act and indeed paralyzed into inaction at the end even when she knows the truth. What about the gossipy women on the newscasts who appear petty and flighty? What about the sister who is so subserviently tied to her brother that she can't come up with anything to do but find ways to support him? What about the Andie Fitzgerald girl who gets naked for one scene, appearing like the uncaring, easy woman with nothing more to add? What about the "trailer trash" girl at the cabin? What about the "best friend" who unwittingly pees her way into a con? Last but not least, what about the Amy character, who is a complete psycho, who has gone so far off the grid that her manipulation and revenge tactics make her par with the devil? All of this makes the Ben Affleck character and the Tyler Perry characters look like the "sane" ones in a sea of crazy, idiotic women. Gone Girl is offensive and unintelligent in the worst way. All those critics that got fooled by it should have their responsibilities for film criticism removed.
Friday, December 26, 2014
To think that anyone has missed my blogging over the last 6 months is probably no reason to begin writing again. There are always numerous blogs and sites to get opinions from. Mine is no more valid than anyone else's. However, I have missed writing about films. Perhaps the reason is that I have not had the urge to write about any of the films I've seen lately. I literally haven't been inspired to write about anything because I seemingly have seen very little that has been worth writing about. To date, I have not seen one film released in 2014 that is worthy of being deemed a masterpiece. By this time last year, I'd already seen Gravity, 12 Years a Slave, Before Midnight, To the Wonder, Wolf of Wall Street etc. In looking back at my 2013 list, I'm amazed at the number of magnificent films...
11. Fill the Void
10. Short Term 12
9. To the Wonder
8. The Wolf of Wall Street
7. Blue Jasmine
5. Laurence Anyways
4. The Act of Killing
2. Before Midnight
1. 12 Years a Slave.
But getting back to the films released in 2014, I've been continually let-down. I’m a huge Wes Anderson fan, and there is a buddy of mine who I watched The Grand Budapest Hotel with who is also a huge fan, and neither of us found it to be as emotionally resonant as his 3 best works (Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums, Moonrise Kingdom). Or there is Ida, which is being so highly praised in many places. It was very good, but didn't blow me away. Under the Skin was highly repetitive throughout its runtime. It had some inspired spots, but it didn't shine throughout. Interstellar was solid, as was Mr. Turner. I also really liked Enemy, and The Fault in Our Stars. But I still haven't seen a masterpiece. This is not a complete list, but a sampling of what I saw and what I thought.
Out of 4 stars....
The Fault in Our Stars ***
Mr. Turner (UK) ***
The Grand Budapest Hotel ***
Hateship, Loveship ***
Calvary (UK) ***
Under the Skin (UK) ** 1/2
Snowpiercer * 1/2
The Lego Movie **
The Theory of Everything **
Still Alice ***
The Double * 1/2
Enemy *** 1/2
Gloria ** 1/2
Blue Ruin ***
The Lunchbox *** 1/2
A Most Wanted Man ***
Tim's Vermeer ***
So I suppose at this point, the closest ones to being truly great were Enemy and The Lunchbox. But Enemy had a few spots that felt un-fleshed out, and The Lunchbox, though borderline a masterpiece, was a 2013 film in some circles.
Maybe I am losing touch with the cinematic medium this year. I just don’t see how I could have 11 films I adored last year, and none from this year. It’s so strange. This is probably having more to say about me than anything else I suppose. Part of this disappointment with finding great films has caused my blogging to dissipate, as I mentioned. I just haven’t been inspired to write about anything. This isn’t to say I didn’t like Budapest and Mr. Turner or Interstellar. I liked them all. But they weren’t full-on masterpieces to me. There are still many films to see....Boyhood, Birdman, Foxcatcher, etc. I'm hoping for a great film soon.
Sunday, September 28, 2014
Few films brim with the kind of cinematic magic as Cocteau’s La Belle et la Bete. For it’s entire 93 minutes, Cocteau implores us to view the proceedings with childlike wonder and suspension of disbelief. His call to order in the prologue asks us to indeed suspend our disbelief, but even more than that, it’s a request to hearken to our recollection of fairy tales as children and to adopt that sense of respect for the significance of imagination. As children our first encounters with the concept of “falling in love” involve fairy tales, and stories of princesses and princes. These archetypal stories create a larger than life sense of grandeur and most often, unrealistic portrayals of true love. Still, our early lives can be shaped in this way. I’m often reminded of this when I watch films like The Little Mermaid or Disney’s Beauty and the Beast with my daughters. Cocteau asks us to adopt this sensitivity when watching his film. Therefore, Belle’s compassion is unquestioned and The Beast’s good heart shines through and we know things will work out in the end. This is no knock on the film. For although La Belle et la Bete is a fairy tale with some predictability, the elements are plenty dark and sinister enough to lend themselves well to the sense of imagination and surrealism that Cocteau brought to his cinema. Thus, the sense of childlike wonder we adopt while watching it is coupled with our adult awareness of sensuality, carnality, and ambiguity, giving the film just enough of a subversive angle to mess with our heads.
Belle lives with her father and two sisters, Adelaide and Felicie, along with her scheming brother Ludovic and friend Avenant (Jean Marais). Her father goes to settle some debts in a nearby town and on the way home that night, stumbles upon a strange and sinister castle. This is no ordinary place. Doors open and close on their own. Candles are held by movable arms in the hallway. A lone hand pours him a glass of wine at a table. Faces peer out from the mantle next to the fireplace. He spends the night there but upon attempting to leave the next day, comes face to face with The Beast (also Jean Marais), a talking, lion-like creature who stands upon his two feet. The Beast sentences him to death, but provides him an out. If he gets one of his daughters to come live with The Beast, the father's life will be spared. The daughter who accepts this challenge, is Belle. Played by Josette Day, Belle is a beautiful and slightly mature woman (Day was 32 at the time of filming) who is keenly aware of the differences between herself and her sisters. They are manipulative, catty, and superficial. Belle seems to have a piercing sense for honesty and truth. Thus, her commitment to proceed to the castle attends a noble kind of cause. She realizes she is called to this challenge. Upon entering the castle, there exists one of the most gorgeous moments ever to grace the screen. Against a black hallway and the outstretched candles, Belle runs with her flowing cape in glorious slow motion through the corridor and up a flight of stairs. Then she seems to float down a hallway where the curtains blow in her path. These ethereal and otherworldly transportations heighten our sense of magic and mystery. When she comes face to face with The Beast, it’s almost HE that is more afraid than SHE. He can’t handle her looking into his eyes and will only meet with her every evening at 7pm to ask her to be his wife. Soon, she begins to see the good in his heart and the struggle within his soul, and is drawn to him.
There are really interesting psychological moments in the film which give keys to Belle's and The Beast's state of mind. There’s this point where Belle is hiding in a corridor and The Beast comes to her door, his hands smoking after he has killed some animal from hunting. He stops at her door, perhaps because he wants to enter her chamber and ravish her. When he finds the room empty, there is a sense of frustration on his face and then he peers into the magic mirror only to find that she has spied his entrance into her room. His pride is hurt. She gains the upper hand. Later, after another time of killing and hunting, he comes to her door, smoke pouring from his body and blood streaking his clothes. Again, the implication is that he is ready to continue his “hunt” by entering her chambers. Yet she confronts him boldly at the doorway, saying that his behavior is beneath him, sending him coldly away. She will stand for nothing less than respect. He returns this respect to her when he allows Belle to return home to see her father if she promises to return. He tells her if she doesn’t return that he will die. Belle is given a magic glove for transportation and a golden key to the Beast’s magical riches. When Belle returns home she finds her father very ill. Her sisters become jealous and steal the key from Belle, and then they set Ludovic and Avenant into action to kill the beast. Belle is detained beyond the 7 days which the Beast granted her, and when she returns, find the Beast near death from his broken heart and spirit. At the close of the film, by miraculous magic (per fairy tale lore), Ludovic and Avenant are foiled, the Beast is turned into a prince, and Belle and the Prince fly off into the clouds.
Cocteau uses lots of whimsical touches to infuse his film with the sense of the otherworldly. Many of the memorable touches involve rewound film during key moments, like when Belle uses the magic glove and appears in her house for the first time. Or there are quick editing effects, like when a tear falls from Belle’s face and her father catches a diamond in his hand. These creative illusions were one of Cocteau’s greatest strengths as a director. The magnificent camera-work by Henri Alekan is awash in shadow, deflected light, and flowing wardrobes. These effects upon the viewer often force us to confront the unknown….into shadows and down corridors where we aren’t sure what will happen. Jean Marais fares very well in the Beast costume. I’m often surprised at how much feeling he is able to convey through his eyes. Day is the perfect fairy tale heroine, both strong and feminine in her determinations. At the close of the film, Cocteau infuses a sensible subversion into our adult heads. The Beast is turned into the handsome prince, and right away Belle isn’t quite sure she likes the idea. She isn’t ready to trust him just yet and he looks like someone she knew once. She is disappointed and even acknowledges it before succumbing to tradition and flying away with the prince, which makes us wonder whether she would have been even happier with The Beast as he was! I’m always intrigued by the fact that she was ready to “commit herself” in love to the Beast. What that looks like in actuality isn’t so important as the sentiment behind it. That she looked beneath the surface and found his heart is the true act of love. She didn’t need the human likeness in him to achieve this epiphany.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
My Darling Chico,
You have been away from me for nearly 2 years now at war. I simply can't believe you've been away that long. It's also been so long since I've heard from you. I miss you so much. We parted on our wedding day and I relive those last moments together as if they exist outside of time. I wonder how you are and pray to God that you will return home soon. I long for you to hold me in your arms. So many moments of our short life together come flooding back to me. I woke up on the street that day to you holding a violet over my face to wake me up. Words can’t express how much I wanted you to take me in your arms and carry me away to safety. I had hardly met you but quickly I knew you were something special. You so selflessly gave of yourself to me, saving my life, when even I didn’t think it worth saving. Claiming me as your wife to keep me from going to jail..... I could tell you had a good heart right from the start and I knew we were meant to be.
The moment we entered the building where you lived that evening and we began ascending level by level up to your flat, my heart raced with anticipation to when I’d arrive in your place. We just kept ascending as if we’d go through the clouds. I wanted to go higher and higher and let the world drift away and be only with you. If only you knew the joy that you brought me as we entered into a new world together. You believed in life and its possibilities and it made me so excited. That night I undressed in your room and slipped into your bed while you were outside. I secretly wanted you to be near me and hold me close and tender. I hoped you would come into bed with me after you removed your pants and shirt. I peeked over the covers as you were undressing and saw your bare chest and it made my body flush. I wanted your body to lie next to mine and feel your skin against mine. I got up to peek around the corner and you were just so cute and sweet to be lying on the balcony. It was a rush of affection and joy through my body just to know that you respected me that way even though I was desperate for your warmth.
But now my dear I am beyond desperate. I haven’t seen you in so long and I long to feel your hands caress my hair and cheek, to feel your kiss on my lips, and to feel your body press against mine. Every moment I’m away from you is so hard. Every minute that passes without you near me is endless. I will simply die if you do not come back to me. Life cannot continue on this way without you. I have shed so many tears for you that I feel all of my tears have dried up and I am empty. Now my body aches and my eyes hurt every time I think of you. The tears will simply not flow and I am overcome by a black emptiness covering over me for which there is no respite.
When I came to you on the balcony dressed in my wedding dress I felt so glorious….and then you told me that you loved me for the first time. I was so happy. You remember how happy I was? I was so happy! And then I heard the sound of soldiers in the street. I didn’t want this to break us apart, but I tried to be strong for the both of us. And then you picked me up and kissed me and held me so close to you for so long and you were so strong holding me and I whispered things in your ear. And I wanted you to take me to bed right then and there. It was the most glorious and romantic moment of my life to be in your embrace. When you told me you wanted to marry me at that moment I was overcome with joy and feeling. I wanted us to be one, to be man and woman for eternity. We placed the necklaces over each other and promised to be true forever. I cherish that moment and the neckless hangs from my neck and dangles between my breasts this very moment. Come back to me Chico. Please with all your might come back to me my husband. You parted from me at 11am. And I think of you as if you were touching me and talking to me every day at 11am and I chant your name over and over and over again and speak to you out there wherever you are. If only you could be here with me. I can’t bear to think of where you are or what kind of danger you are in. I simply can’t begin to believe how awful it must be for you and how much you must be longing to touch me and be back here in our little heaven. I truly wish God’s angels to be surrounding you and protecting you. Believe me when I tell you we are shoulder to shoulder my love. I am working hard each day at the munitions factory. Somehow it helps to pass the time and I think that if I work hard enough it will bring you back to me.
Oh my dearest Chico I must finish this letter as it is late and tomorrow I must be at the munitions factory at dawn. Please write to me Chico. I miss you so desperately and I am being strong for you but I need you to return soon. I know that you will return to me and I believe with all my heart that this day will come soon for us. And on that day when you return to me oh how the glories of heaven will resound when we are rejoined. You must believe Chico. You must believe that our Love will bring you through any and all odds and nothing will keep us apart. Not even hell’s fury itself will be allowed to touch you. Our love is pure and true and righteous and I just know and believe that you will return. Please Chico….please return home soon.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Monday, July 14, 2014
There are few romantic films that are as beloved and cherished as John Ford’s beautiful and heartwarming classic, The Quiet Man. Intended for years as a pet project, Ford hand selected the story, the stars and the setting of Ireland in order to bring together many elements that meant a great deal to him. Ford’s Irish heritage, and that of Wayne and O’Hara, turned the film into a sort cinematic expression of anthropology, extending the elements of the plot beyond simple mechanics and enlivening the whole film with a passionate and joyful sense of place, family, and tradition (all very consistent with Ford’s career). These elements reached into the lives of those making the film, and in turn, these personal connections become visible to the audience. In a sense, this film is as much a love story between Ford and his fondness for Ireland and for heritage, as much as anything else. But the fact that the film is buoyed by intense chemistry from Wayne and O’Hara, many romantic scenes, and a charming, sexually playful tone, it’s hard to top this film for sheer enjoyment.
Ford had read the short story by Maurice Walsh back in 1933 and had purchased the rights to the story but the film took years to take shape. It’s a story of an Irish-born man named Sean Thornton who has been living in America for much of his life, but who after giving up boxing on account of a fatal bout he participated in, ends up desiring to return to his birth-town of Inisfree to claim his family farm. Upon arriving in Ireland, he finds that another man in town, Will Danaher (Victor McLaglen), wants the land as well. Sean ends up gaining the rights to the farm, but earns an enemy in Will Danaher at the same time. This wouldn’t be so bad, except that Sean quickly has eyes for Will’s fiery sister, Mary Kate Danaher (Maureen O’Hara). Sean soon finds himself in a familial battle of wits, as he pushes against tradition in order to ask Mary Kate’s hand in marriage without consent from Will. Through some trickery from the townsfolk, Sean is able to wed Mary Kate, however Will holds back the dowry that is owed to her. Mary Kate then decides that she’s going to withhold…..ahem…..the goods from Sean until she gets her dowry back. Thus, the film then turns into a sly and farcical bit of romantic shenanigan-ism as the marriage remains unconsummated and the tension between Sean and Will grows. That is until the final showdown between Sean and Will to decide the fate of the marriage and to recoup the fateful dowry.
Even getting this film off the ground took a bit of doing for Ford. It took some time to get financing, and this finally came from Republic Pictures, who needed Ford and Wayne to do a moneymaking picture prior to filming in order to fund the cost of The Quiet Man. They embarked on making Rio Grande, which isn’t just notable for its standing amongst Ford’s westerns and the Cavalry Trilogy, but also because it paired up Wayne and O’Hara for the first time. It’s plain to see in Rio Grande that the two were a match made in cinematic heaven. It’s no wonder that Ford had eyed these two stars for The Quiet Man as well. Ford had of course worked with Wayne often, and with O’Hara years earlier in How Green Was My Valley. But Ford’s brilliant pairing of Wayne and O’Hara makes The Quiet Man into the memorable romantic picture that it is. Many have noted how Wayne and O’Hara make a great onscreen pair and it has to do with each having an equalizing presence upon the other, meaning that it never quite seems like one is overshadowing the other. Their chemistry together in this film forces them to have a physical and demanding experience together, whether swinging punches at each other, scrambling through creeks and over lush countrysides, and then squaring off in the bedroom for the rights to the upper hand. Their passionate quarreling is only rivaled by their passionate kisses. On multiple occasions, this film has some memorable kissing scenes. Probably the most iconic moment is when Sean enters his farm for the first time to find someone has been tidying up, and there’s a windstorm blowing. He manages to scare Mary Kate out of the house and as the door bursts open, she runs to leave, whereby he swings her back through the open door, then pulls her to him for a kiss. Spielberg’s use of this scene in E.T. made it extra iconic, but there are other memorable moments as well, like when the two kiss in the rain in the cemetery. It’s such a lovely quiet moment between the two of them with wordless interplay as O’Hara pulls in close to Wayne, with his shirt soaking wet. Then there’s the scene on the wedding night as Sean breaks down the door, pulls Mary Kate’s hair back and kisses her in a rough moment of passion. And that’s what makes Wayne and O’Hara such a striking match, as their physicality and passion is believable. So much so, that we can imagine what might happen were they to hop into bed. Indeed, the film has lots of fun, stalling out the consummation of marriage as long as it can possibly go for comedic effect. Like when Michaeleen Oge Flyn (Barry Fitzgerald) happens to stop by the house bringing furniture and catches a glimpse of the broken bed after the first night of marriage, saying, “impetuous”, quietly to himself. Little does he realize what caused the broken bed.
With many exterior shots filmed in Ireland, the film has a strong sense of place, and a beautiful, lush look to it. The wonderful cinematography of Winton C. Hoch adds much to the film and the on-location shooting is enlivened wih elegant framing. Victor Young’s score incorporates many elements of Irish tunes, giving the film a bouncing and jovial quality. Ford’s cast of familiar characters like McLaglen, Ward Bond, and Mildred Natwick add color and warmth to their roles, and many other parts were given to locals in Ireland as well as various bit parts to family members of Wayne, O’Hara and Ford. It’s Wayne and O’Hara that make everything shine, though, and their performances are some of the finest of their careers. A couple moments are noteworthy. Wayne has just had a beer tossed on his face and says in a rather matter of fact tone, “bar towel”. He wipes his face and then asks for the time. He’s told it’s half past five, and then proceeds to punch McLaglen. He does all this with such perfect tone that it confirms that Wayne’s sense of comedic timing was one of his most underrated skills. My favorite moment of O’Hara’s is the moment when Wayne comes to the door to come courting. She nervously comes talking to her brother at the table to ask for permission to go out with him. Her tone of voice here, and the way she is almost out of breath with anxiousness and nervousness seems real. You can hear the sexual charge within her, as she’s desperate to go out with Sean, but can hardly contain her nerves. Beautiful acting.
In the realm of cinematic pairings, the best ones are the ones in which you can believe the two really have eyes for each other, or at least create characters whom you believe really want each other. In the final moments of the film, Wayne and O’Hara are seen happily waving at Rev. Playfair from the edge of their farm. This moment to me is one of the brilliant examples of what makes this film work. Watching closely, we witness O’Hara whisper something into Sean’s ear. They’re both grinning and then she turns and begins to jaunt back to the house, with Sean soon running and tumbling after. And in my mind, there’s only one place where they could possibly be headed.
Thursday, July 10, 2014
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Although most of Frank Borzage’s best films finally saw release with the 2008 box set, Man’s Castle somehow didn’t make the cut. It’s a shame, as it’s his best film outside of his multiple silent masterpieces made with Janet Gaynor and Charles Ferrell. Man’s Castle again rekindles a kind of street-wise and jaded yet sentimental quality to the love stories he pioneered in the 1920’s, like 7th Heaven, Street Angel and Lucky Star, and then continued into the 1930’s with his near masterpiece talkie, Liliom. Borzage is rarely written about these days, and if he is, it’s amongst the blogosphere almost exclusively, and even in that realm it’s hard to come by. Borzage, above any other director who’s ever lived, seemed to elevate romance into the spiritual realm, almost turning the transformative power of love into a religion, believing that if one is honest enough, kind enough, and loving enough, one can overcome just about any odds. No other director has ever conveyed with such unflinching, sincere regard, the belief that love can conquer all and inspire lovers to go beyond what they thought was imaginable.
In the case of Man’s Castle, we consider two souls, Bill (Spencer Tracy) and Trina (Loretta Young) as they sit on a park bench. He feeds the pigeons popcorn, while wearing a fancy suit. She eyes the popcorn with a hungry eye as she is obviously out of work, while he is seemingly rich and throwing food away. The content dabbles into typical pre-codisms, with Bill alluding to the fact that women shouldn’t be out of work (even in the depression) especially with the looks of a woman like Trina. Bill then takes her to dinner, where this film also sets up a sort of teacher/protege kind of relationship, a la, Pygmalion. Borzage brilliantly sets up the film positioning Bill as a rich man, until Bill reveals that his suit is a prop (an advertisement for a coffee house), and then brings Trina (Loretta Young) home to his shanty-town house, proving he's nearly as poor as she is and giving new definition to the term Man’s Castle. Touchingly, the film connects our two down-on-their-luck lovers ending their first evening together by skinny dipping in a river, equalizing their plight, stripping themselves bare and plunging into their relationship on equal terms. Amazingly, the film positions them as living together and joining into a sort of ragged union, rising above categorization because convenience doesn’t make time for such formalities. Their tender relationship is threatened when Trina becomes pregnant, forcing Bill to confront his sense of commitment to Trina and the life that he is aching to give her despite their hardships.
It’s hard to view this film with the right context under which it was meant to be seen. Most of us never experienced the Great Depression, and instead only understand it through the eyes of generations past, who’ve told tales to subsequent generations, or through books or movies. But honestly, it might be cinema that will most easily convey the Depression for future generations. Films like Man’s Castle, My Man Godfrey, The Grapes of Wrath…..these each convey a certain element of the times and a point of view that was, if not necessarily popular back then (it is reported that Man’s Castle did poorly at the box office), are great cultural examples of the time. For all the falsity that cinema often presents, these are the closest things to a living/breathing time capsule as we’ll ever have. Though Borzage can of course be accused of relying too much on sentiment regarding this topic (and indeed throughout his career), it is far too simplistic to label him as taking advantage of the situation. The fact is, many great directors honed their use of sentiment for great effect, including Chaplin, Ford, and Spielberg among others. What separates the good from the bad, is the sincerity of belief in the power of goodness and love at the heart of the sentiment. Borzage here utilizes the difficulties and trials of surviving during the Great Depression in order to reflect upon the resilience of romantic love and the courage to do the right thing under those circumstances. This scenario actually takes a genre that is sometimes stuck in the clouds and then blends in a kind of kitchen-sink realism that gives the film (and many of Borzage’s films) a superbly balanced romantic tone.
One thing I’ve always had an issue with regarding certain pre-code films (this one notwithstanding) is an unenlightened, seemingly sexist view towards women. I don’t particularly take well to the attitude that Tracy’s character delivers to Young, what with the “Come here” and “Hey stupid” kind of lines he throws at her, even if it is in jest. I’m not even sure this attitude matches well with Tracy’s acting style per se. However, there’s an alternate reading to this in that Bill’s ultra-macho attitude is partly a distancing technique, perhaps so that he and/or she will refuse to connect too deeply to the other. Borzage inserts a slightly overstated subplot that doesn't quite resonate as Tracy begins seeing a floozy on the side. It's almost like he’s trying a little too hard to keep the upper hand to avoid getting hurt but it comes across as a bit far fetched. However, most of the film is filled with beautifully wrought romantic longing and touching scenes. There’s this beautiful moment when Bill and Trina attempt to sit down for dinner and the blaring train whistle nearby seems to pierce right into Bill’s brain, almost causing his façade to crack, as he knows he's not providing the right environment for Trina's needs. The film is also remarkably progressive when it comes to the co-habitating relationship, complete with sex, but sans marriage in all its pre-codi-ness. Starting in 1934, this film would never have seen the light of day due to these elements. In fact, the film was re-released in 1938 with the studio being forced to cut out 9 full minutes, which have not been fully recovered since. It’s a shame we have lost some of this footage, as it’s hard to simply get enough of Spencer Tracy and Loretta Young and their chemistry together onscreen, as they are lovely and tender and sincere as anything else you will see from this era.