Greta Garbo

The Painted Veil (1934)

The Painted Veil (1934)

(On Cable TV, August 2019) It’s completely unfair to compare a film with another adaptation made decades later, but here we are—I can help but measure the 1934 version of The Painted Veil with the 2006 adaptation of the same novel by W. Somerset Maugham, and being overly critical of the earlier film. There’s some logic to it, though: as a tough drama taking place in a picturesque location, this is a story that benefits from the increased technical sophistication of twenty-first century cinema. The colour cinematography, ethnic-appropriate casting, enhanced sense of place and ability to squarely tackle topics without skirting around censors and impressionable audiences (especially in a film focused on an affair) are undeniable strengths of the later film. What this version has is Greta Garbo in the lead role (admittedly an advantage only if you really like Garbo) and an ending that could be described as a happy one, avoiding the tragic finale of the novel and later adaptation. I’m normally someone who likes happy endings—even to the extent of defending some of the most outrageous ones imposed by Hollywood adaptations—but I can’t muster much enthusiasm for this one, so integral does the tragedy feel to the work. There’s also a fair point to be made that this version seems to be all about Garbo, Garbo, Garbo to the extent of minimizing the work it’s supposed to adapt. It does make an interesting contrast, though—between the studio-bound techniques of the 1930s versus the unlimited palette offered to 2000s filmmakers, between a cast-member taking over the story versus a team effort, between the emphasis that a version can place on sections of the story compared to another. I would have written another review had I not seen the 2006 adaptation of The Painted Veil first, but again—here we are.

Flesh and the Devil (1926)

Flesh and the Devil (1926)

(On Cable TV, April 2019) As much as I love exploring what Classic Hollywood has to offer, it’s not because a film is old and still remembered that it’s good. While Flesh and the Devil is still noteworthy today for being one of Greta Garbo’s Hollywood breakout roles (and was selected for the National Film Registry), it remains a particularly melodramatic silent drama and those often age badly. The premise has to do with a love triangle between a woman and two friends, with plenty of complications. I didn’t like it all that much. Some of it has to do with the nature of silent dramas—the pacing is mortally slow, the overacting can get tiresome even by the standards of the day, and the underpinning of the drama is nothing like today. But some of it is specific to the choices made by Flesh and the Devil as well: the melodrama is overdone and Garbo’s character is portrayed as purely a temptress with little personality of her own. This dismissive portrait of the female lead, combined to a relationship between the two friends that would work better if they were brothers or even homosexual lovers, leads to an incredibly cruel bros-before-hoes climax that will leave modern viewers dumbfounded. I know, I know—cinema at that time was a heroic endeavor, and that it actually pulls off something that we can appreciate today is in itself a miracle. Still, well, blah.

Grand Hotel (1932)

Grand Hotel (1932)

(On Cable TV, March 2018)  The thirties were a decade when Hollywood perfected the grammar and sales pitch of cinema, with Grand Hotel earning a minor place in history for two innovations: on an artistic level, pioneering the use of a 360-degree lobby set that allowed the camera to be pointed in any direction, and commercially for bringing together as many movie stars as the (comparatively large) budget would allow. It netted Grand Hotel a Best Picture Oscar back in 1933, but today the result has visibly aged. While the script still holds some interest by bringing together a bunch of vignettes that sometimes interact, much of the film is shot as a theatre piece, the lobby sequences being an exception that highlight the more traditional nature of the rest of the film. As far as star power is concerned, modern viewers can still enjoy the presences of Greta Garbo, Joan Crawford as well as Lionel and John Barrymore—even as reminders of why they were or became superstars. While the Berlin setting of the film may strike some as odd considering Hollywood’s insularity and the whole World War II unpleasantness a few years later, it’s worth noting that at the time, Hollywood was filled with German expats, that Berlin was a world-class city and the best-selling source novel spoke for itself. Also: this was the depression, and a bit of gentle European exoticism couldn’t hurt the movie-watching masses. Grand Hotel will forever live on as a Best Picture winner, and as a representative of the Hollywood machine as it was revving up in the early thirties, it’s a master class in itself.