Carole Lombard Movies

Swing High Swing Low is a new coat of paint on the old stage play Burlesque, first filmed in 1929 as The Dance of Life. Ex-serviceman Skid Johnson (Fred MacMurray) rises to the uppermost rungs of show business as a bandleader. As his fame swells, so does his head, and he becomes impossibly arrogant, forgetting the friends who helped him get to the top -- not to mention his ever-faithful sweetheart, band vocalist Maggie King (Carole Lombard). Consuming great quantities of booze, Skid hits the skids, ending up a skid-row derelict (there seems to be a pattern here). The ultimate humiliation comes when he isn't even allowed to return to the Army because his insides are shot. In the film's calculatedly teary finale, Skid is rescued emotionally and professionally by Maggie, now a big star in her own right. As indicated by the synopsis, the film is banal and old-hat, but the stars are terrific, especially Carole Lombard, who sings in several scenes (and not all that badly!) Swing High, Swing Low was remade in 1948 as When My Baby Smiles at Me. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Eagle and the Hawk is a "war is hell" saga slightly reminiscent of All Quiet on the Western Front. Fredric March plays a British World War One flying ace suffering from emotional fatigue. March's happy-go-lucky pilot buddy (Cary Grant) tries to help his friend forget his problems by accompanying him on leave in London. March meets a beautiful young lady (Carole Lombard), to whom he pours out his problems and with whom he has an implicit affair (made even more discreet when this film was edited for reissue). Tortured by the memory of the his fallen comrades and by the men he's killed in battle, March finally breaks and commits suicide. To save his friend's reputation, Cary Grant props March's body up in the cockpit of his plane, flies the craft into the air, and makes it appear that March died while shooting it out with a German ace. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Although it ran a very scant four reels (it was actually 3,303 feet in length), comedy producer Mack Sennett marketed this film as a feature. In spite of its short length, it did have quite a bit going for it, not the least being the scenes of the Sennett bathing beauties, which were shot in Technicolor, and the presence of a very young Carole Lombard (with her first name spelled "Carolle") in a small role. On the negative side was the plot (typical for a Sennett film). Apparently, the original concept was to show where the bathing beauties came from, but after a reel, this idea was tossed out the window and the usual Sennett mayhem ensued (including a climax featuring a bunch of lions on the loose). Wilfred Ashcraft is a director of bathing beauty films (Mack Swain, creating a complete comic portrayal of Cecil B. DeMille, down to the puttees). As Minnie Stitch, tiny Daphne Pollard plays a wardrobe mistress. Ashcraft decides they need a big star and import the exotic Madam Zwibach from somewhere or another (Dot Farley). That's pretty much all there is to the story -- the rest is left up to witty title cards and, of course, the Technicolor bathing beauties. ~ Janiss Garza, All Movie Guide

The first of documentary producer Robert Youngson's feature-length silent comedy compilations, The Golden Age of Comedy began life as a short subject, consisting of vintage clips from the Mack Sennett vaults. When Youngson struck a deal with the Hal Roach studios, he was able to expand the film's running time with pristine-quality vignettes from the Roach catalogue. While many past greats are highlighted in Golden Age, the compilation's true "stars" are Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy, shown at their very best in lengthy excerpts from such 2-reel classics as The Second Hundred Years (1927), You're Darn Tootin' (1928) Two Tars (1928) and Double Whoopee (1929) (the latter featuring a 17-year-old starlet named Jean Harlow). Thanks to Youngson, the legendary pie fight scene from Laurel and Hardy's Battle of the Century (1927) was saved from the brink of extinction and is included herein. The rest of the film offers choice comic bits from the likes of Ben Turpin, Billy Bevan, Will Rogers, Charley Chase, Harry Langdon, and even Carole Lombard. Our only carp is that the narration is frequently superfluous; we can see the gags, we don't need them explained to us. The Golden Age of Comedy was the surprise hit of 1958, spawning several future Youngson compilations, including a brace of 1960s films devoted almost exclusively to Laurel and Hardy. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

The 1936 comedy-mystery The Princess Comes Across might well have been inspired by a real-life incident during the silent-movie era, in which a crafty San Francisco stenographer hoodwinked the Hollywood elite into believing that she was a Spanish princess. Carole Lombard stars as an alluring Swedish beauty who travels under the name of Princess Olga. Everyone whom she meets en route to America on the steamship Mammoth bows and scrapes to the Princess, while Hollywood anxiously awaits her arrival to star her in a big-budget film. Only the ship's bandleader, King Mantell (Fred MacMurray), refuses to defer to Olga, sensing that she may not be all she claims. Mantell's instincts are right on target: the "Princess" is a brass-nickel phony, a Brooklyn girl named Wanda Nash who has cooked up her royal guise with drama coach Gertrude (Alison Skipworth) as a publicity stunt to crash into movies. Unfortunately, a weaselly blackmailer Darcy (Porter Hall) gloms onto Wanda's true identity and offers to keep quiet in exchange for a huge cash settlment. At the same time, Darcy is attempting to shake down several other passengers on the Mammoth, including King Mantell. Inevitably, Darcy is found murdered in the "Princess"'s stateroom, and Wanda finds herself one of several likely suspects, among them Mantell. A quintet of international detectives, travelling to a convention in America, sets out to solve the mystery, which becomes even more mysterious when one of the detectives also turns up dead. Taking matters in his own hands, Mantell vows to clear Wanda's name, and in the course of things he realizes that he's madly in love with her--but will Wanda give up her hoax, and her future showbiz career, for Mantell's sake? Among the many highlights in this engagingly daffy film is Fred MacMurray's rendition of the enchantingly forgettable song "My Concertina." ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Like its predecessors, this third cinema version of Sidney Hoiward's Pulitzer Prize-winning play They Knew What They Wanted suffers from Hollywood censorship. Still, this story of the grim consequence of a misbegotten mail-order marriage has much to offer. Carole Lombard is superb as the waitress who lies about herself while carrying on a romance by correspondence with the Italian-born owner of a Napa Valley vineyard. Equally fine (if a shade too effusively hammy) is Charles Laughton as the grape grower, who also misrepresents himself in his letters, going so far as to pass off a photograph of handsome hired hand William Gargan as a picture of himself. Vowing to be loyal to her new husband Laughton, despite her distaste for him, Lombard nonetheless enters into an affair with Gargan. For the most part, the film moves along harmoniously. It falters only in the censor-dictated alterations (why is Lombard crying at the end?) and the horrendous performance by Frank Fay as a sanctimonious priest. Keep an eye peeled during the engagement party for a young, unbilled Karl Malden and Tom Ewell. Previous versions of They Knew What They Wanted included The Secret Hour (1928) and A Lady in Love (1930). ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Carole Lombard stars as Helen Bartlett, a compulsive liar who always tips the audience to an oncoming whopper by sticking her tongue in her cheek. Helen is married to a Kenneth Bartlett, a scrupulously honest lawyer whose integrity has always held him back professionally. Hoping to help Kenneth get ahead, Helen confesses to a murder she obviously didn't commit, confident that he'll get her off and make his reputation. But things don't go exactly as planned, thanks largely to a mysterious eccentric named Charley (John Barrymore), who assures the heroine over and over that she'll "fry." Once considered a prime example of screwball comedy, True Confession is now regarded by film buffs as one of Carole Lombard's worst pictures: it wasn't much better when remade by Betty Hutton in 1946 as Cross My Heart. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

In this romance, an aspiring writer encounters a wealthy publisher who gives him an advance on the first two chapters of his book. Meanwhile, his wife helps out by becoming a chorus girl in a nightclub revue. Instead of enjoying the peace and quiet of home life, the poor writer finds himself inundated by unexpected visitors and minor household disasters. Among the visitors is a flirtatious Southern gal who tries to lure him away from his wife. At the same time, the publisher has become enamored of the husband's wife and tries to tempt her with his money. The wife thinks he is simply offering her more advance money on her husband's book. Mayhem ensues when the couple begins suspecting each other of cheating. Following their separation, the man becomes a famous writer. Eventually he realizes that he has only loved his wife all along. The two reconcile and happiness ensues. ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide

The title Virtue should be a good tip-off that the central character is a step below virtuous. Carole Lombard, still not established as a comedienne in 1932, plays a streetwalker seeking an escape from her sordid existence. She meets Pat O'Brien, one of the few men who doesn't expect a quick fix of satisfaction. Redeemed by his love, Lombard marries O'Brien and tries her best to bury her past. Fortunately Virtue was made before the 1934 production code, thus Carole Lombard is not subject to the censor-approved Torments of the Damned which were visited upon post-1934 movie prostitutes. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide