Kay Francis

  • For the Defense (1930)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2022) I do like William Powell’s screen persona a lot, but much of the interest in his early-1930s film is seeing that persona gradually being honed, from the villains and cads he played during the silent era to the droll, suave and clever leading man from the mid-1930s onward, with The Tall Man being the yardstick against which the rest of his career was measured. For the Defense sees Powell in one of his many lawyer roles, but less-typically as a slimier sort of character playing fast and loose with the law, and being willing to be the patsy for a criminal act committed by someone else. It’s both similar and not similar to his later roles, and that’s what makes it perhaps more interesting than some of the same films of the period, even if it doesn’t end up being as satisfying as his other films. Cinematographically, there’s not much to say—For the Defence fits within the aesthetics of the early-sound era, with a plot that has its moments (such as a nitro-fuelled courtroom confrontation) but degrades as it goes on to a perfunctory conclusion that won’t make anyone particularly happy… although it does make good use of the latitudes allowed in a Pre-Code film. The judicial technicalities feel ludicrous and subservient to the melodramatic requirements of the script. Kay Francis shows up in one of her earliest frequent pairings with Powell, but there’s not much to say about her character or her acting: she’s nowhere near what she’d do in later films. For the Defense is, in many ways, a typical early-Hollywood courtroom melodrama elevated (and overshadowed) by Powell’s presence and later filmography. It’s for completists.

  • In Name Only (1939)

    In Name Only (1939)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2021) Despite coming from a time in which Cary Grant was fast ascending as a Hollywood superstar and following an impressive succession of solid hits that made his reputation, In Name Only is seldom named as a Grant favourite — in fact, it usually struggles in the bottom tier of the actor’s filmography. The reasons for this become clear as the morass of the main plot becomes apparent: Grant plays an unhappily married man who falls for another woman, except that his current wife will not make any kind of divorce quick or easy. Grant has the great good fortune of being flanked by both Kay Francis (as the wife) and Carole Lombard (as the mistress aspiring for more), both of them beautiful and legends of 1930s comedy. But the film itself is not meant to be funny — clearly aiming for romantic drama rather than any kind of comic mayhem, the film trudges along gently on the charm of its co-leads, and ends up roughly where we expected after ninety minutes of repeating the obvious. There are now-odd moments (such as a drunk character falling asleep in front of an open window and getting a potentially fatal illness out of it) that don’t help. It all amounts to a frustrating film — three actors playing against type in a film that can be read as a repudiation of the screwball comedies that took marriage so lightly. Lombard, of course, would have a career shortened by a tragic plane crash three years later, making the thought of missing another great comic performance from her all the more poignant. To be clear, In Name Only is not a terrible film, but it goes through its downbeat premise as expected, wraps up things in time for a happy ending seen from far away and seemingly wastes the considerable comic timing of its actors without giving them much in terms of dramatic acting performances. Casting lesser actors would have improved it.

  • The Feminine Touch (1941)

    The Feminine Touch (1941)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2021) One of my favourite kinds of comedy, especially in the Classic Hollywood era, if when the entire premise of the film causes characters to act in counter-natural ways. The Feminine Touch has that as a driving principle: the idea that an academic working on a book about jealousy would be blithely unable to be jealous, even despite ample provocations from his wife. The story does get more complex when other characters are introduced with non-mutual infatuations for other characters. Notable players here include Don Ameche as a comic/romantic lead playing the academic author, Rosalind Russell as his scheming wife trying to get a reaction out of him, Van Heflin as a romantic pretender, and Kay Francis as the fourth point in this romantic quadrangle. While The Feminine Touch is more charming and amusing than outright funny, it does culminate into a rather spectacular scuffle between the leads, and that’s a nice capper to an entertaining film. There’s a pretty good bit involving Van Heflin sporting an uncharacteristic beard and wolfish attitude. The material here is better than usual for a romantic comedy, and if you’re a fan of any of those actors (if not all four of them, because this is a seriously good cast), then The Feminine Touch is a can’t miss.

  • Jewel Robbery (1932)

    Jewel Robbery (1932)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) The reason why William Powell still has legions of fans even today is that his specific skills as an actor could be magic provided the right material — and Jewel Robbery is very close to being an ideal Powell vehicle. Playing that most cherished of old-school characters, the gentleman thief, Powell goes for his best suave persona: impossibly refined, smooth, irresistible to the ladies and very good at his chosen trade, he easily shines whenever he’s on-screen, although he gets a run for his money from frequent co-star Kay Francis. The theatrical origins of the film can best be seen in impeccable dialogue that takes advantage of the freedoms of its Pre-Code production — most notably in its “funny cigarettes” (ever wanted to see 1930s stoner comedy?), its adulterous heroine, but also having a criminal as a protagonist, and making sure he gets a happy ending. There’s a strong kinship between Jewel Robbery and contemporary Trouble in Paradise, but also with later generations of charming criminals equally successful in larceny and in love. It’s a shining example of the kinds of great movies that the Production Code took away for thirty years, and yet another showcase of Powell’s charm. This being said, Jewel Robbery stands up quite well on its own: it’s a slyly sexy, frequently funny, completely likable crime comedy romance, and it’ll make Powell fans of anyone who doesn’t already know him.

  • One Way Passage (1932)

    One Way Passage (1932)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) I’m a twenty-first century modernist, so it’s strange to realize that in watching older movies, I sometimes feel a nostalgic pang for things that don’t really exist any more: twice-daily newspapers, overnight train travel, automats, Hollywood studios or cruise liners. It’s aboard such a transpacific cruise that most of Pre-Code romantic tragedy One Way Passage takes place, as a criminal on the run and a terminally ill woman meet, seduce each other but never ride off into the sunset as a couple. Deepest the “comedy” moniker and comic incidents throughout, it’s glum, wistful and somewhat grown-up compared to other Hollywood films made during the later Code period. It’s a good showcase for a young and more dramatic William Powell, as well as his frequent screen partner Kay Francis — this was their sixth and final pairing in three years! The subplots and episodic incidents don’t hold a candle to the doomed love story at the heart of the film, nor to the usual charm of Powell and Francis. This is certainly not the funniest Powell film ever made—him as a murderer on the run is not exactly what his persona became—but then again, if comedy is what draws people into One Way Passage, tragedy is what people remember about it.

  • Comet Over Broadway (1938)

    Comet Over Broadway (1938)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2020) Some films make history, and others, well, not so much. I find it hilarious that about three-quarter of the narrative Wikipedia entry for Comet Over Broadway is about Bette Davis’ refusal to star in the film (leading to her infamous suspension of contract — movie history!), so slight and meaningless is the final result. As far as showbiz movies go, it’s a melodramatic blend of scarcely believable plot elements thrown in a blender in a way to make us loathe the heroine and despise the screenwriter. It has to do with an ambitious small-town girl who ends up having her husband kill someone and get sent to prison, gives her infant daughter up to another woman and then goes on to major showbiz success. Kay Francis is stuck in the lead role, all the way to an ending that means practically nothing. The film is meant to make audiences cry, but it’s so far-fetched that it can’t even sustain basic scrutiny, leading to a reaction quite unlike the one designed from the get-go. I’m usually a good and forgiving audience for showbiz films. But Comet Over Broadway doesn’t click. At best, I’ll dismiss it as a conventional weepy big on plot contrivances. But I’m not liking it.

  • Trouble in Paradise (1932)

    Trouble in Paradise (1932)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2018) As I dig deeper in film history, few words become as interesting as “pre-code comedy”.  The more I watch older films, the more I complain about the Hays Production Code that effectively stunted the thematic development of American cinema between 1934 and 1960 (ish). But there is a brief time, roughly 1930–1934, during which Hollywood movies, having more or less mastered the grammar of cinema, was moving toward bolder and more daring subject matter. These movies feel considerably fresher than many subsequent films in their ability to grapple with authentically adult subject matter. While I wouldn’t call Trouble in Paradise an all-time classic nor a boundary-pushing film, its Pre-Code nature makes it so that it’s just spicy enough to be worth a rewarding viewing experience. Focusing on a pair of expert thieves out to swindle a rich French heiress, this is a romantic crime comedy that works decently well on several levels. As a pure comedy, it features witty dialogue, strong characters and an amiable sense of sophisticated style. Herbert Marshall and Miriam Hopkins make for likable criminal heroes (their introductory dinner is a lot of fun), their loyalty to each other tested when Kay Francis enters the picture as a rich target. Director Ernst Lubitsch handles the elements of his film with a deft touch (indeed, “The Lubitsch touch” that could be seen in later movies such as The Shop Around the Corner), producing a well-rounded piece of work. What’s not so obvious to modern audiences since then used to moral complexity is the idea of presenting two outright thieves as romantic heroes: while it’s since been done over and over again in modern cinema, this was a bit of a sensation at the time, and the film effectively disappeared from public circulation for decades (until 1968) once the Hays Code was enforced two years later. Marvel, then, that we twenty-first century cinephiles now have access to something that many earlier audience didn’t. And marvel that, thanks to more natural non-enforced moral standards, Trouble in Paradise still plays really well today, more than eighty-five years later.