Maureen O’Sullivan

  • The Devil-Doll (1936)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2022) Now here’s a fun surprise from the 1930s, a decade in which a few hardy creators were doing interesting things in the fantastic genre. The Devil-Doll is not exactly the most logical or tightly plotted movie out there—it’s a mixture of wacky scientific ideas, arbitrary restrictions, revenge fantasy, special effects showcase and one big hammy actor at the centre of it all. That would be Lionel Barrymore, of course, playing an escaped convict from French Guyana’s Devil Island (where Papillon would later take place) and vowing revenge on those who framed him for fraud and murder by using the human-shrinking technology of the scientist friend he escapes with. If your “you’ve gotta be kidding me!” tripwire has already been triggered by this preposterous premise, then sit down because it’s not going to get any better: Disguised as a woman (hence Barrymore’s interest in the role), our protagonist goes around Paris, shrinking people to doll size, evading police, and unleashing revenge on his enemies by using his dolls with evil intent. Oh, and checking in on his estranged daughter along the way. There are a few conceptual showcases here, such as psychologically torturing his enemy into a confession… while having a murderous back-up plan ready to go if they don’t. Plausible? Absolutely not. Rather entertaining? Yes, very much so. The film being written and directed by Tod Browning clearly gives it a halo effect from Browning’s other landmark horror film Freaks, but it’s perfectly watchable on its own. There’s a further interest in seeing how the film dates from 1936 rather than, say, Pre-Code 1934—some of the film seems to skirt or avoid the strictures of the Production Code—most notably the anti-hero escaping further punishment. Also, Maureen O’Sullivan is quite lovely here. But in the end, all of those quirks accumulate to provide yet another reason why the 1930s remain a strong decade for cinephiles—so much invention for results that remain just as accessible now as they’ve ever been.

  • Skyscraper Souls (1932)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2022) I’m not sure you’d call it a subgenre, exactly, but I have a clear fondness for those many Manhattan-set films of the 1930s that represent what was then the height of modernity and sophistication—men and women going from their high-rise apartments to their high-rise jobs, trying to find love, advance their careers and take care of whatever plot point was thrown in their way. It’s a meticulously scrubbed-down fantasy version of 1930s life in Manhattan (notice that we seldom see the characters in the streets, and it’s not just because on-location shooting was impossible), but it’s still incredibly relatable and compelling to any twenty-first century viewer used to the urban lifestyle. The tightly wound Skyscraper Souls is nowhere near the best, funniest or more representative of such movies, but it could be one of the most exemplary ones given how free it is, in its pre-Code glory, to portray a young woman as having valid lustful desires. There’s a slightly techno-thrillerish edge to the setting—a hundred-story tall skyscraper that has everything needed for the plot—so much so that the action never steps out of the building. (One should note, for historical purposes, that the Empire State Building was the first building to feature more than a hundred floors; it opened in 1931 and remained the tallest until the 1960s.)  Much of the plot is about the tall building itself—and the man desperately fighting to keep control of it. Our male protagonist has affairs with other women (!) with his wife’s approval (!!) and causes a stock market crash that is almost presented as a good thing (!!!)  Warren Williams plays the magnificent bastard at the centre of the film, but there’s a lot of good supporting work from players such as Maureen O’Sullivan and Verree Teasdale. (Pre-gossip Hedda Hopper also shows up briefly.)  Even if the plotting gets suspicious or even repellent, I can’t help but like the paean to modernity that is Skyscraper Souls, the sense of a buzzing Manhattan or the Pre-Code slips (and scantily-clad ladies) that, as usual, evoke an entirely different history for American cinema had the Production Code never been as dominant.