Constance Bennett

  • The Easiest Way (1931)

    (On Cable TV, September 2022) I don’t particularly care for The Easiest Way as a movie: it’s slow even at 73 minutes, moralistic, light on memorable writing and doesn’t make much of an impression in the end. But there’s certainly something interesting about it in a wider context. For one thing, this Pre-Code drama isn’t as knee-capped as later movies in discussing the appeal for young women to be kept by older richer men. (That’s the titular “easiest way” to make a living.)  Constance Bennett plays a cute girl from a poor family, and for her the moral calculation is easy when an older man (Adolphe Menjou) comes knocking for some, ahem, knee-knocking. Meanwhile, her sister takes the righteous path by marrying a young man with bright career prospects. The fates of both sisters are repeatedly contrasted throughout the film until the very end, where virtue is rewarded and the easiest way is revealed to lead nowhere good. In a blatant way, The Easiest Way is both salacious and moralistic—thrilling audiences with a girl turning to socially-discouraged ways to make a living, while comforting the moralists that she has learned her lesson in the end. It’s hypocritical… and it’s pure Hollywood tradition all up to today’s Lifetime movies showing both the thrill of the illicit, and the retribution that comes afterwards. As I said: The Easiest Way isn’t much of a film by itself (although this being one of Clark Gable’s earliest films may add to the appeal of seeing Bennett and Menjou and Robert Montgomery), but it is a good example of a timeless Hollywood tradition, perhaps slightly more enjoyable than similar films made during the Production Code era by virtue of being able to lean more strongly on its highlighted vice.

  • Lady with a Past (1932)

    (On Cable TV, September 2022) When I take a look at the basic building blocks of Lady with a Past, it strikes me that I should like the film more than the mild entertainment I got out of it. It’s a pre-Code comedy (always a good beginning!) in which a goody-two-shoes young woman figures out that she would be far more attractive to men if she invented herself a more sordid life history, and starts lying in order to make herself look more interesting. It works so well that one of the suitors commits suicide, which is the kind of plot point that would disappear a few years later with the introduction of the Production Code. Constance Bennett plays our protagonist skillfully—introducing her as a bookish wallflower feels like an invitation to be patient for when she will unleash her usual inner vixen. But even with some decent dialogue along the way, Lady with a Past never took off for me—despite a few highlights (such as a dream sequence), it feels a bit dull in its incisiveness, somewhat more boring than expected with that kind of set-up and the opportunities still open to Pre-Code screenwriters. Maybe it’ll work better during a later second viewing.

  • Sin Takes a Holiday (1930)

    (On Cable TV, January 2022) I don’t think I’ll ever get over my delight at the particular subset of Pre-Code romantic comedies set in the Manhattan upper-class, where marriage is treated casually as an excuse for the far more serious business of love. So it is that, in Sin Takes a Holiday, we have a suave bachelor agreeing to a marriage of convenience with someone with a crush on him, except that the marriage can’t be consummated and is agreed-upon to self-destruct after a year. (He wants to take himself off the market, but not too much.)  That’s not a particularly sensible set-up for romance, but you know where it’s headed anyway. While there’s some comfort value in this typically unreal depiction of love and marriage in the NYC upper-class in the early 1930s (no mention of the depression, never!), there have been many better films in the same subgenre, and Sin Takes a Holiday struggles to distinguish itself against similar offerings. Only the lead presence of Constance Bennett and good (if unrewarded) supporting turns from Basil Rathbone and ZaSu Pitts are interesting from a cast point of view and add to the film’s impact. The film is probably a little better-known than it should by virtue of having been accidentally dropped in the public domain a while ago and works well according to its sub-genre conventions, but it’s not as essential as many others.

  • Topper Takes a Trip (1938)

    Topper Takes a Trip (1938)

    (On TV, October 2021) Picking up right after the first Topper (but negating its reconciliation conclusion), Topper Takes a Trip foregoes Cary Grant but keeps the rest of the cast, as banker Cosmo Topper and his wife are once again at odds and she decides to leave for France during a temporary separation. This won’t do, decides the flirtatious friendly ghost of the first film (Constance Bennett, given that Grant has presumably ascended to heaven) as she sets out to reunite the bickering couple. As with the first film, the emphasis remains on silly, often improperly justified comedy, as ghosts materialize or appear without much consistency in their powers. The important part is taking in the gags and having the Toppers reunite at the end. Roland Young and Billie Burke are not bad as the Toppers, but they clearly play second fiddle to Bennett. Topper Takes a Trip is a fairly weak brew as far as comedies go, but it’s unquestionably a follow-up that steps into the shoes of its predecessor. I liked it without loving it—it’s reasonably fun, but not that good nor that funny.

  • Topper (1937)

    Topper (1937)

    (On Cable TV, October 2021) The 1930s were surprisingly heavy in movies about spiritism, mediums, clairvoyants and such. Supernatural comedy Topper is squarely in that tradition, as it features a henpecked husband affranchising himself with some help from a couple of deceased free spirits. It was a box-office smash, got good reviews and launched a series that ended up with three films, but this first instalment is, to contemporary viewers, slightly maddening. For one thing, it keeps a young Cary Grant in a very supporting role as a bon vivant husband suddenly dead. Don’t cry for him—his character is just as lively in the afterlife, and Grant himself would use Topper as a springboard to an astonishing steak of terrific performances in better-remembered screwball comedies. Close behind him in likability is Constance Bennett, playing a carefree ghost only too happy to be as flirtatious as she wants. Finally, there’s Roland Young, playing the actual protagonist of the film: Cosmo Topper, a banker of high status but terrible home life, with a wife only too happy to tell him what to do in minute detail. (If you’re not happy with this review’s late introduction of the protagonist, just keep telling yourself that I’m merely aping the film, which spends a good ten full fun minutes with Grant and Bennett before sighing and going through the motions of introducing its real and less-fun protagonist.)  While amusing, Topper pales in comparison of other comedies of the same period: it’s amiable and cute, but it doesn’t quite reach for the full possibilities of having two ghosts running around making life crazier or better for a live protagonist. It does not help that Topper is lazy in setting up the rules of its ghosts, who can appear or not, but always manipulate physical objects. It all leads to an acceptable ending, with a (hidden, for this was the Hays Code era) glimpse at fancy lingerie as proof that our protagonist and his wife were back on the mend and mutually satisfying physical intimacy. As for our ghosts, well, they apparently disappear having completed their good action, which does seem awfully indulgent. As I said: Topper works, but just barely. I find it significant that the second sequel would let go of its original premise to take a far more overtly comedic turn in the midst of a murder investigation, becoming far closer to the occult detective narrative. Then, as now, when a formula is broken, filmmakers will change it to follow what everyone else is doing!