Sunday, September 13, 2026

Bad Girl (1931-32)

The title character of Bad Girl, Dorothy Haley (played by Sally Eilers), isn’t truly a bad girl at all. She’s tough, certainly, but she’s living in a city (New York) and a time where she and all other women are constantly the target of men’s attention, mostly unwanted and often repugnant. She and her friend Edna Briggs (a tough-talking Minna Gombell) are models for a store, and we get to see them displaying bridal gowns in the opening sequence, only to face the stares and leers and harassment by the men who are watching them. It begs the question of why the men are looking at women’s bridal gowns, but perhaps that’s to demonstrate just how tough it was for a single woman in the early 1930s.

Dorothy and Edna like to have a good time, so they head off to Coney Island after a tough day on the job. The scenes there have a lovely documentary feel, and it’s always fun to see footage from those earlier times and learn how people enjoyed themselves. Dorothy would like to meet a nice guy, but she thinks every man is going to be problematic. When she meets Eddie (a terrific James Dunn), he turns down her advances initially but starts to warm up to her. He lets her know quickly, though, that he wants a serious relationship, not a so-called “good time girl.” Dorothy and Ednar aren’t really those kinds of women, but what’s wrong with them going out and having some fun after work? Oh, that’s right. It’s 1931. I momentarily forgot.

Eddie walks Dorothy home, but he’s rather critical of the tenement life she lives. The movie isn’t clear on this, but she likely has no other choice than to live with her terrible brother in their small apartment. The tenement dwellers waste no time in demonstrating the full range of human experience in just a few minutes. There’s been a death and a birth and even a couple fighting over the husband smelling of limburger. You know, it’s a regular place, in other words. Eddie and Dorothy start to see each other regularly, and you can sense that they’re probably heading for a more permanent relationship.

However, Dorothy is quite tough, and when Eddie is late for a date one night, she shows up at his place to find him caught up in his work repairing radios. She tells him off pretty directly, but he begs her to stay with him and talk. Just talk. The movie doesn’t show anything more than that, and people do sometimes talk into the late hours when they’re falling in love. Unfortunately, she’s worried that being out so late will ruin her reputation and likely upset her controlling brother. She’s right, naturally, even though her brother has been staying up late with his girlfriend, Dorothy’s co-worker Edna. So… hypocrisy, unsurprisingly, shows up early in the film.

The plot then asks us to accept a series of rather silly misunderstandings between Eddie and Dorothy. He asks her to marry him and then can’t be reached for a day or so. Her brother has kicked her out and she has gone to stay with Edna, who is a widow with a young son who seems oddly interested in talking to Dorothy while she’s still in bed. Dorothy tries to call Eddie, but he’s moved out of his old place and apparently lost his job. When he shows up, he explains that he’s found them a new home, one that’s a bit bigger and more appropriate for a couple. They marry, and their relationship crisis seems to have been averted—temporarily.

Eddie has always wanted to own his own radio store, and he finds a nice location just when Dorothy finds out she’s pregnant. She’s frightened because her own mother died giving birth to her, but she won’t tell him that she’s expecting, which I suppose makes sense to her and no one else, including Edna. She seems frustrated about where they live (because it’s going to be too small to raise a family), but he misinterprets her emotions as displeasure with how small their apartment is. She wants to go back to work to earn some money for the baby, but she doesn’t tell him the reason, and he says he doesn’t want her to work because he feels like the husband should pay for everything so that his wife can stay home. Again, what year is this? 1931? You could still live on one person’s salary then?

He takes the money that’s he’s saved to open his own store and buys a new apartment and lots of new furniture because he thought she wanted a new place. She’s upset that he spent his money when she was probably hoping that it could be used, in part, to pay for the baby. It’s really quite silly that they both somehow wind up thinking that neither one wants to have a baby when it should be apparent that both of them are very excited. They clearly love each other; they’re just horrible at communicating their feelings.

The misunderstandings just keep piling on. Again, none of them make Dorothy a “bad girl.” She just doesn’t communicate clearly with her husband, and he doesn’t communicate clearly with her, so they’re always talking and acting at cross purposes. (Does this mean he is also a “bad boy”?) She’s worried about the delivery and mentions this expensive society doctor who would perhaps be more helpful. Eddie starts taking up boxing matches for extra cash and goes to visit this fancy obstetrician and breaks down asking the doctor to help him and his wife. Dunn is particularly effective in this scene, and you can understand why the doctor agrees to take the case.

On the day that Dorothy is supposed to go to the hospital, Eddie takes another match, and it’s quite brutal. He’s left bruised and bandaged, and she is upset when he shows up at the hospital, thinking he didn’t want to be there to see his own son being born. He just can’t seem to say the right things, and neither can she. If it weren’t for Edna’s interference at times, they might have separated or divorced before they could have their happy reconciliation. It is a Hollywood movie, after all, so you expect them to figure out how each other feels at some point before “The End” appears on screen.

The film was adapted from a book that was apparently much more scandalous in terms of what happens to Dorothy. This version, however, seems relatively tame to me. Dorothy and Eddie don’t really do anything that would cause their reputations to tarnish, and most of the plot complications are easily fixable, you know, if they just talk to each other honestly. It is interesting to see the difficult situation that women of that time were in. It’s certainly a professionally made film with some solid performances by the leads and major supporting characters. I’m not just certain that I would consider it to be Best Picture material.

Oscar Wins: Best Director (Frank Borzage) and Best Writing/Adaptation

Other Oscar Nomination: Outstanding Production

Friday, September 4, 2026

Best Picture of 1930-31

 Cimarron (1931 film) - Wikipedia

The Winner: Cimarron, surely one of the worst films ever to be chosen for the Academy’s highest honor

The Other Nominees: East Lynne, The Front Page, Skippy, Trader Horn

1930 / 1931 – The Front Page – Academy Award Best Picture Winners


My Choice: The Front Page, but just barely over Skippy. Both films feature great performances from big casts, but I’d give the edge to The Front Page for its skill with dialog and for the moments when it shows a real fluency with camerawork.

The Front Page (1930-31)

 The Front Page (1931) - IMDb 

A lot of the action in The Front Page takes place in a news reporters’ room at a courthouse. The reporters banter with each other and discuss various news events, and from time to time, they seem to write actual articles. Of course, most of their articles seem to be fictions rather than fact, and perhaps that’s part of the central joke of this film. Keeping most of the action restricted to one room is perhaps a holdover from the movie’s origins as a play, but what makes it stand out (and perhaps got it nominated for Best Pictures) is the fast talking and sharp, overlapping dialog. The characters sure say a lot in the film’s brisk 100 minutes.

The central character is “Hildy” Johnson (played by Pat O’Brien with his usual charm), a reporter for the Morning Post who is leaving his job to move to New York and become an advertising man. He’s also marrying his long-time girlfriend, Peggy (Mary Brian), and he’s starting to realize that perhaps he’s devoted more time to his job than to his relationship with Mary. The problem is that a really intriguing news event happens, and his instinct is to write about it. You know, just-one-more-before-I-leave-for-good kind of thinking.

His boss/editor, Walter Burns (played by the Oscar-nominated Adolphe Menjou), also schemes to keep Hildy on the job instead of letting him go easily. Menjou always has a sly look on his face, and his Burns is always scheming to get what we wants, which is usually for his paper to get the scoop. However, just when you think you’ve detected some trend in his behavior, Menjou’s Burns takes a sharp, surprising turn. It’s quite a vehicle for a good performance even though it might be considered a supporting role nowadays.

The plot concerns the impending hanging execution of a prisoner named Williams. It’s set for the next morning, and the sequence of events involving Williams borders on the farcical at times. The sheriff (Clarence Williams) and the mayor (James Gordon) want the hanging because it will help them with the black vote in the upcoming election. (Williams is accused of murdering a black policeman). The sheriff also warns of possible communist rallies at the execution even though Williams is a self-professed anarchist rather than a communist, as the sheriff falsely claims. There’s also a prostitute named Molly (an appropriately acidic Mae Clarke) who witnessed the alleged crime and is angry at the reporters because none of them is printing the truth of what happened.

In an odd turn of events, an alienist asks Williams to help reenact the crime, allowing the convicted man (George E. Stone, funnier than you might expect him to be) to steal a gun and escape captivity. It happens to be the sheriff’s gun, which is certainly an embarrassing detail that the sheriff tries to conceal. It’s little wonder that the reporters mock the sheriff through the film; he really doesn’t seem very competent at his job. The film offers quite a subtle commentary on the corrupt nature of politicians like the mayor and sheriff.

The cast is filled with some other first-rate character actors besides those I’ve already mentioned. Edward Everett Horton plays a news reporter named Bensinger who works for a rival paper. He’s obsessed, weirdly, with smells and illnesses. He also has an old-fashioned rolltop desk that plays a pivotal part in the plot, but more on that later. Slim Summerville shows up as an envoy from the governor, who has granted Williams a reprieve. The sheriff and mayor attempt to bribe him with money and a night at a whorehouse to keep him silent. Clearly, they’ve never seen Summerville’s other movies.

Williams actually never makes it out of the courthouse. He uses a drainpipe to reach the newsroom, where Hildy and Burns and Molly try to help him hide. He winds up in the rolltop desk, and given how many people come and go through that room, it’s crazy that no one suspects he’s hiding there. It’s something of a running gag, and even though the film is sometimes described as a black comedy, it reached slapstick proportions at times like this. The resolution at the film’s ending is quite preposterous, honestly, but it’s a comedy after all, so some creative liberties fit right in.

I’d like to point out a couple of clever decisions the filmmakers have made. One is the opening credits sequence. Since the film is about reporters, we get to watch as someone flips through a series of newspaper pages, including ones that introduce the cast by having their images on the page with a caption about the actor and their character. It’s pretty cool to watch. The other happens near the end of the film, and it demonstrates some sharp editing skills. We again get a series of images, close-ups of the different reporters calling in to their papers with stories.

The Front Page is now in the public domain, so copies can be easily made and distributed. It’s been preserved by Library of Congress, and I do hope that the print they have is one of higher quality both visually and auditorily. I saw a pretty murky and fuzzy version. Let’s hope someone cleans up the film for a future release.

Oscar Nominations: Outstanding Production, Best Actor (Adolphe Menjou), and Best Director (Lewis Milestone)