A Midsummer Night's Dream (1935)

When one thinks of the great fantasy films from The Golden Age of Movies certain titles always pop up. “King Kong” (1933) for sure. Capra’s “Lost Horizon” (1937). “The Thief of Bagdad” (1940) continues to delight the eye and ear as much today as it did 70 years ago. “All that Money Can Buy” (1941) (aka “The Devil and Daniel Webster”) is one of the greatest movies ever made, and Powell and Pressburger’s “A Matter of Life and Death” (1946) is so witty, fresh and audacious it puts current cinema to shame.

Warner Bros. version of Shakespeare’s comedy “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” (1935) is rarely included on such lists, but it should be. It’s one of the most visually impressive movies of its era, and its special effects are still something to see.

It’s also a cinematic milestone in many ways, giving us:
The screen debut of Olivia de Havilland;
Composer Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s first screen credit;
A most unique bit of Academy Awards trivia – the only write-in vote to actually win an Academy Award. Cinematographer Hal Mohr’s work is so shimmering, so evocative, that it’s not a surprise he won an Oscar for his work, though he wasn’t nominated that year. Seeing this movie, one can understand why the Academy members wrote in Mohr’s name on the ballot.

Mohr’s forest is a truly magical place, with fairies, sprites, goblins and gnomes carousing in the greenwood and traveling on moonbeams and stardust. The Fairy King Oberon strides through the star-filled sky with his giant cape billowing behind him. Glorious imagery abounds in that forest.

I hardly know my Shakespeare, so can’t tell how it works as an adaptation, but as a movie it’s quite entertaining and a visual marvel. Most of the Warner Bros. contract players turn up, including such non-Shakespeare types as James Cagney and Joe E. Brown, and it’s another one of those delicious Hollywood ironies that the most urban of studios gave us one of the movie’s most memorable Shakespeare adaptations.

The celebrated German director Max Reinhardt had staged “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” at the Hollywood Bowl in 1934, which became the talk of the town. It must have been really something for the Hollywood film colony to pay heed to a stage show, but they did. So much so that Warner Bros., in an attempt at artistic legitimacy, signed Reinhardt to three films, the first of which would be bringing Shakespeare’s magic forest to life with all the technical prowess a movie studio could offer.

Unfortunately, Midsummer was a huge flop and Reinhardt never made another movie. Studio heads were likely secretly pleased, as the stage director Reinhardt had a rough time making the translation to film and went over budget and over schedule. Co-director William Dieterle was brought in to help move things along.

Before the movie’s failure, though, Reinhardt’s reputation was so great that that the notoriously frugal studio agreed to Reinhardt’s requests. Rather than rely on studio production personnel, Reinhardt brought over from Europe the Danish costume designer Max Ree, the Polish Anton Grot as the art director and Nijinsky’s sister, the Russian Bronislawa Nijinksky, as choreographer.

Reinhardt’s greatest hire, and one of the best things to ever happen to Warner Bros., was to bring in the great Austrian composer Erich Wolfgang Korngold to adapt the famous Mendelssohn incidental music for the film version. (Korngold augmented the score with other Mendelssohn music as well). Reinhardt had worked with Korngold before on several projects in Europe and asked Korngold to come to Hollywood for eight weeks to assist with the music. That eight weeks turned into six months, and when production was over, Korngold agreed to stay on for a short while to write the score for “Captain Blood” (1935).

Due to World War II, Korngold stayed in Hollywood through 1948, composing some of the greatest film music of all time. Ironically, his first film assignment would co-star Olivia de Havilland in her film debut, and Korngold would win his two Oscars for films she appeared in: “Anthony Adverse” (1936) and “The Adventures of Robin Hood” (1938).

Reinhardt had selected de Havilland to appear in his Hollywood Bowl production as Hermina and retained her for the film. She signed a seven-year contract with Warner Bros., and while it was her official film debut, due to the film’s lengthy post production, a film she made afterwards hit theater screens first. Fortunately it was opposite comedian Joe E. Brown in the very popular baseball comedy “Alibi Ike” (1935), where movie audiences first saw de Havilland. “Captain Blood” her first film with Errol Flynn, would appear later that year. Quite a year for Olivia.

Not only was the film’s post production lengthy, but so was the film’s production. The huge forest set was destroyed by a fire, requiring the film’s postponement for several weeks until it could be rebuilt. Ernest Haller, the film’s original cinematographer, could not photograph and light the forest set to Reinhardt’s requirements. Haller was replaced by Hal Mohr, who solved the problem by spraying the set’s dense, thick foliage with aluminum paint, thus giving Reinhardt the shimmering, evocative forest he wanted.

Two bickering couples lost in the forest are played by de Havilland and Dick Powell, and Ross Alexander and Jean Muir. Powell later said he had a rough go with the language, and often could not understand what the words meant. Olivia is a delight, her eyes flashing with mirth and mischief. It’s hard to believe she was only 18 when she made this. No newbie nerves here, she’s in complete command throughout.

Some of the film’s best scenes involve the traveling troupe of actors who get lost in the forest. One hardly thinks of James Cagney, Joe E. Brown, Dewey Robinson, Hugh Herbert and Frank McHugh as Shakespearean actors, but they rise to the occasion, with Cagney especially turning in a wonderful performance as Bottom, who gets his head turned into that of a donkey thanks to a mischievous sprite named Puck (Mickey Rooney, supremely irritating and the film’s low point. Oh, he’s OK, but that laugh has got to go). Bottom’s donkey head attracts the attention of Titania, Queen of the Fairies (Anita Louise), who falls in love with him.

Victor Jory plays Oberon, King of the Fairies, and he’s marvelous. I always liked Victor Jory, even more so when I read how much he appreciated Korngold. In a 1975 interview, Jory told Korngold’s biographer Brendan G. Carroll how Korngold helped him with his performance.

“When it came to the actual filming, Korngold lay on his stomach in the bushes, out of camera range, and literally CONDUCTED my performance…as though I was singing the dialogue. Reinhardt and Dieterle were in complete agreement with this – and it was the first and only time I ever recall that a composer’s wishes superseded those of either the director or the actor. But then, he wasn’t just any composer.”

Victor Jory a Korngold fan – that’s incredibly awesome. Wonder what he thought of Max Steiner’s music for “Gone with the Wind” or “Dodge City?”

The DVD is restored to its full length, complete with overture and exit music. The disc also boasts a myriad of marvelous extras, including Olivia de Havilland’s screen test, a short featurette on the making of the film including footage of Korngold playing the piano, wonderful footage of the film’s star-studded premiere and short introductions by many of the films stars extolling theater goers to be on the lookout for the film.

In his appearance, Dick Powell is especially enthused about being part of the film. No way would the studios ask him to reveal his real feelings. “I’m very proud to be in this movie, but I have no idea who my character is or what my motivations are. Maybe you in the audience can tell me. Feel free to write me at the studio. Thank you.”

That might have attracted more business to the film. Regardless, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” is a real treat, giving us some of the movie’s most indelible fantasy imagery. As a piece of Hollywood history, its importance can’t be denied. It’s ranking on the entertainment scale is high. It’s a winner all the way.

Smart Money

“Smart Money” (1931) was the only movie Edward G. Robinson and James Cagney made together, and it’s pretty good. It has that raw atmosphere I enjoy from so many early 1930s Warner Bros. movies. And, like most Warner Bros. movies of that era, it’s very watchable.

Edward G. Robinson stars as Nick the Barber. He and best friend Jack (James Cagney) are barbers in Irontown, where Nick also runs a small-time betting operation out of his shop. He’s a big fish in a small pond and thinks he can make a splash in New York City. His friends stake him for a big poker game in the city. After being taken in by some con men, he strikes back at them using the same methods they used on him. He soon becomes one of the biggest gamblers around, causing consternation among the law and the city’s newspaper editors. (We get lots of headlines about Nick’s gambling activities). Knowing Nick’s penchant for beautiful women, the D.A. uses attempted suicide victim Irene (Margaret Livingston) to get the goods on him.

Sure, Nick has a thing for women, but there’s also an odd undercurrent of homosexuality between Nick and Jack. When Jack comes to the city to help Nick with his racket, Jack complains about Irene always being around. Nick tells him Irene will be leaving in a few days and “…you can be my sweetheart again, dearie.” Wow. Yep, we’re definitely in Pre-Code territory here.

Despite Cagney’s co-starring presence, it’s very much a supporting performance. He was simultaneously shooting this and “The Public Enemy” at the same time, so his star had yet to ascend. But upon the opening of that film, Robinson and Cagney became equals, and ruled the underworld roost at Warners for the remainder of the decade.

Noel Francis makes a nice impression as a girl Nick falls for, not knowing she’s the gal of Sleepy Sam (Ralf Harolde), the slicker who takes Nick in that first poker game. She’s in another 1931 Cagney film called “Blonde Crazy” and very appealing she was too. She never became a star, but I’m always glad to see her in the cast list.

Boris Karloff appears unbilled as a gambler who gets wiped out by Nick in Irontown. That same year he made movie history in “Frankenstein” and a year later Karloff would never go unbilled again.

Even though the title is included in the third volume of the Warner Bros. Gangsters Collection, it’s really not a gangster film, but that’s OK. They can call it in whatever box set they want as long as these titles continue to get released.

All in all, a good show. Not particularly memorable, but enjoyable viewing nonetheless. The 81 minutes fly by in the best Warner Bros. style.

Rating for “Smart Money”: **1/2

Picture Snatcher

I would imagine that most 1933 audiences found themselves mightily entertained by “Picture Snatcher.” It holds up very well today, as most 1930s James Cagney pictures do.

A lot of the credit goes to Cagney of course, that most dynamic of actors. But much of it has to with the Warner Bros. house style. It doesn’t let up for a minute and one scene leads logically to the next. Reliable director Lloyd Bacon sure knew how to keep things hopping.

Back in the 1930s when big cities like New York and Chicago had five, six or more daily papers the competition was fierce, and “Picture Snatcher” captures those days well. A flurry of bodies moving to and fro, the noise of the typesetters, editors barking into phones and drinking from bottles in the bottom desk drawer. If this wasn’t how newspapers were back then, it’s how they should have been.

In “Picture Snatcher”, Cagney plays Danny Kean, recently released from prison. He’s met by his old gang, but is determined this time to go straight. He goes to the Graphic News, the daily rag with the worst reputation in the city, to get a job. City Editor McLean (Ralph Bellamy) would like to give him a job, but can’t. Cagney decides to make them give him a job by getting a picture of a fireman who is holding off the cops, and the press, at bay in a burned out apartment building after the fireman found his wife and her lover in bed together. He torched the place and won’t come out.

Cagney succeeds in getting the interview in a very funny scene by pretending to be an insurance adjustor and getting an estimate on the damage. He gets the story and the picture, which nabs him a job on the Graphic News as a photographer, aka picture snatcher.

There’s really no plot, but a series of sequences where Cagney gets photos that the other news photographers can’t. One sequence, based on fact, has him sneaking a camera into an execution chamber and getting a photo just as the juice is turned on.

This being a 1930s Cagney picture, there has to be a doll to trade insults and kisses with and this time its not Joan Blondell, but Patricia Ellis, playing a college cutie who wants a job in journalism. She’s also the daughter of a cop who put Danny away years ago. The cop is played by Robert Emmett O’Connor, who played the befuddled cop in the Marx Bros. classic “A Night at the Opera” (1935) and he’s still befuddled here, thought less so. He likes Danny Kean and wants to see him go straight, but not with his daughter.

Alice White plays Bellamy’s girl who is not above batting her eyes at Danny. There’s a couple scenes where he slaps her around in the best Cagney style. Has any actor ever gotten away with smacking women around without losing sympathy as Cagney did? I don’t think so.

The film concludes with a mass gunfight when the police are out to get Jerry the Mug, an old comrade of Danny’s. (I like that name, Jerry the Mug. So gloriously Warner Brothers). Of course, he knows where Danny’s is holed up, and if Danny can sneak in, he can maybe get some photos of Jerry the Mug’s final minutes. The cops fire enough bullets into Jerry the Mug’s apartment for a small war. I’m not sure “The Longest Day” (1962) fired as many bullets as the cops do here.

I wonder if contemporary audiences would find the Danny Kean character unlikeable? He’ll do anything, or trick anyone, to get that front page photo. However, it’s likely Depression-era audiences, not knowing when the next bomb was going to drop, was cheering him on the whole way.

Rating for “Picture Snatcher”: Three stars.

Captains of the Clouds

It’s interesting to watch two similar-themed movies from the same studio within a short period of time. The similarities become more apparent.

A few days ago I watched “Dive Bomber” (1941) Warner Bros. stirring tribune to aviation medicine. Last night I watched Warners’ tribute to the Royal Canadian Air Force, “Captains of the Clouds” (1942) starring James Cagney, Brenda Marshall, Dennis Morgan and the Warner Bros. stock company.

Both were directed by Michael Curtiz, and both were filmed in gorgeous three-strip Technicolor. Curtiz loves his aerial formations…if Busby Berkeley directed airplanes in a war movie, they would look something like this. Perfect formations, set in front of gorgeous sunsets or awesome mountain vistas - I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if enrollment in air forces around the world rose after people saw these movies.

Curtiz is well thought of as a director of action, and speed and pacing, but I think he needs to be placed higher in the pantheon of cinema visualists. The fact that both movies feature similar stunning aerial photography - yet different cinematographers - tips the hat to Curtiz.

The plot of “Captains” is formula, to be sure. No one ever played a scoundrel who sees the error of his way and redeems himself in the end quite like Cagney. Brenda Marshall, best known as Errol Flynn’s co-star in “The Sea Hawk” (1940), has some heart-stopping close-ups. She’s absolutely gorgeous.

I was also amused by each movie’s nightclub scenes, with the same version of “What’s New” being played by a dance orchestra. I don’t think I would have picked up on that had I not seen both movies so closely together.

There’s also a nice scene where Canada’s real life WWI air ace, General Billy Bishop, presents medals to the airmen.

“Captains of the Clouds” is formula entertainment, but when it’s this enjoyable, there’s no cause for complaint.