Jean Harlow Movies

Clara Bow and her sister Jean Arthur are wisecracking department store employees with ever-roaming eyes for eligible bachelors--particularly those with fat bank accounts. Both girls fall for the same wealthy man (James Hall) but Bow temporarily loses out to Arthur, who is just a tad craftier and a whole lot nastier. On the occasion of a wild costume party, the truth of Arthur's gold-digging duplicity comes out, and true-blue Bow wins the hero. Saturday Night Kid is a remake of the 1926 silent film Love 'Em and Leave 'Em, in which the female leads were played by Evelyn Brent and Louise Brooks. Both films were based on a stage play by George Abbott--which, in turn, was adapted from a verse novel by Townsend Martin. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

A hotel is gearing up to welcome its prestigious new guest, a European Prince (Captain John Peters). But before he appears, Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy walk in. After much confusion, it is discovered that the two are not the Prince and his Prime Minister, but are the hotel's new doorman and footman. The real Prince grows ever more furious as he falls into the elevator shaft numerous times, always because of either Stan or Ollie. Finally the boys take their positions outside the hotel, where they irritate a taxi driver (Charlie Hall) and a policeman (Tiny Sanford). Stan, Ollie, and the cabbie proceed to destroy each other's uniforms, until the cabbie accidentally grabs the policeman's jacket. The cabbie takes off, and another taxi appears. A sexy blonde (Jean Harlow) emerges and is personally escorted by Ollie. What he doesn't know is that Stan shut the cab's door on her dress and it has ripped right off. Finally, he sees what has happened, and, horrified, he removes Stan's coat to cover up the young lady. The boys start bickering, and soon the whole lobby is in an uproar. The Prince comes in and gets in the way of a flying cake. Nearly rabid with anger, he swears to report this indignity to the King and Queen -- then falls into the elevator shaft once again.
This two-reel silent is best remembered for the scene in which Jean Harlow's dress is caught in the taxi cab door. Harlow doesn't appear in a later Laurel and Hardy film, Beau Hunks, but a still photo of her from Double Whoopie does, and she's identified there as "Jeannie-Weenie," Ollie's faithless girlfriend. And if the Prince in Double Whoopie looks quite a bit like Erich von Stroheim, he should -- the actor who played the part was von Stroheim's stand-in. Double Whoopee was re-released in 1969 in a "talkie" version dubbed by new actors. ~ Janiss Garza, All Movie Guide

This Laurel and Hardy short film has a thin plot but plenty of laughs. The two have escaped from prison, but the guards are hot on their tail. Some confederates pick them up, and Stan and Ollie change out of their prison uniforms in the car while a motorcycle policeman pursues them. In their haste, they put on the wrong pants, but they manage to elude the police. For most of the rest of the film, they try to find a inconspicuous place to switch their pants. Future star Jean Harlow has an early bit part as a lady who attempts to enter a taxi while the boys are without trousers. They finally get their pants switched, but find themselves on a construction elevator which takes them up to the top of a skyscraper. Now, they have to find their way back down to the ground without falling. ~ Bruce Calvert, All Movie Guide

In this comedy, a lonesome fellow returns from Peru with a fortune and begins looking for a wife. While still single, he has a real estate agent show him a home or two. The agent invites him to dinner. During the meal the agent and his wife bicker constantly, causing the poor fellow to rethink the idea of matrimony. He decides that he still wants to share his new home with someone and so ends up having the agent's sister-in-law move in. She performs all the wifely duties but one... The two go on dating other people until they both realize that they have fallen in love with each other. Look carefully for brand new starlet Jean Harlow in a bit part. ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide

No one was surprised in 1929 that aviation mogul Howard R. Hughes would produce a paean to World War I flying aces like Hell's Angels. Given Hughes' comparative inexperience as a moviemaker, however, everyone was taken slightly aback that the finished film was as good as it was. The very American Ben Lyon and James Hall play (respectively) Monte and Roy Rutledge, a couple of British brothers who drop out of Oxford to join the British Royal Flying Corps. Several early scenes establish Lyon and Hall's romantic rivalry over two-timing socialite Helen (Jean Harlow). While flying a dangerous bombing mission over Germany, the brothers are shot down. The commandant (Lucien Prival), who'd earlier been cuckolded by one of the brothers, savors his opportunity for revenge. He offers the boys their freedom if they'll reveal the time of the next British attack; if they don't cooperate, they face unspeakable consequences. Roy, driven mad by his combat experiences, is about to tell all when he is shot and killed by Monte. The latter is himself condemned to a firing squad by the disgruntled commandant -- who, it is implied, will soon meet his own doom at the hands of the British bombers. Nobody really cares about this hoary old plot, however; Hell's Angels culls most of its strength from its crackerjack aerial sequences. The highlight is a Zeppelin raid over London, one of the most hauntingly effective sequences ever put on film. From the first ghost-like appearance of the Zeppelin breaking through the clouds, to the self-sacrificing behavior of the German crew members as they jump to their deaths rather than provide "excess weight," this is a scene that lingers in the memory far longer than all that good-of-the-service nonsense in the finale. Also worth noting is the star-making appearance of Jean Harlow. When Hell's Angels was begun as a silent film, Norwegian actress Greta Nissen played the female lead. During the switchover to sound, producer Hughes decided that her accent was at odds with her characterization, so he reshot her scenes with his latest discovery, Harlow. While she appears awkward in some of her scenes, there's no clumsiness whatsoever in her delivery of the classic line about slipping into "something more comfortable." Originally, Marshall Neilan was signed to direct the film, but became so rattled by Howard Hughes' interference that he handed the reins to Hughes himself, who was in turn given an uncredited assist by Luther Reed. Also ignored in the film's credits are the dialogue contributions by future Frankenstein director James Whale, who'd been hired as the film's English-dialect coach. Modern audiences expecting a musty museum piece are generally surprised by Hell's Angels' high entertainment content: they are also startled by the pre-code frankness of the dialogue, with phrases like "The hell with you" bandied about with reckless abandon. In recent years, archivists have restored the film's two-color Technicolor sequence, providing us with our only color glimpses of the radiant Jean Harlow. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

A remake of Howard Hawks's 1928 effort A Girl in Every Port, Goldie is the sort of film for which the phrase "Male Chauvinist Pig" was invented. Finding a book of girl's addresses, a sailor named Spike (Warren Hymer) learns to his dismay that every one of the girls has been tattooed by her previous sweetheart. Vowing to beat up the man responsible for this, Spike finally tracks the perpetrator down; he turns out to be another sailor named Bill (Spencer Tracy), who winds up as Spike's closest friend. Later on, the boys find themselves in Calais, where Spike falls in love with carnival girl Goldie (Jean Harlow). Bill considers Goldie to be nothing more nor less than a gold-digger, but Spike refuses to believe him. Goldie shows her true colors when she "comes on" to Bill, whereupon the latter leaves behind another tattoo as a warning for the gullible Spike. Geez, ya just can't trust dem dames! ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Bootleggers Louis Scorpio (Wallace Beery) and Johnny Franks (Ralph Bellamy), with the advice of their alcoholic lawyer Richard Newton (Lewis Stone), try to muscle in on the territory of gangster "Smiling Joe" Colimo (John Miljan). Franks kills Colimo's brother and tries to frame Scorpio, but Scorpio kills both him and olimo. Newspaper reporters Hank Rogers (Johnny Mack Brown) and Carl Luckner (Clark Gable) investigate with help from "The Secret Six," a consortium of businessmen eager to fight crime, but when Scorpio's moll Anne Courtland (Jean Harlow) tries to help them, Scorpio kidnaps her and Carl. The two hostages are rescued by "The Secret Six" and the police, and Scorpio and Newton shoot each other fighting over their money. ~ Nicole Gagne, All Movie Guide

A rather bleak comedy-drama from Frank Capra, Platinum Blonde basically starts where Capra's later and much more buoyant It Happened One Night (1934) ends: the marriage between a brash newspaperman and a society dame. But where the latter comedy was enhanced by the director's patented optimism, Platinum Blonde, produced at the height of the Great Depression, expresses no faith in a common ground between the classes. Star reporter Stew Smith (Robert Williams) falls in love with the sister (Jean Harlow) of his latest victim (Donald Dillaway). They marry despite the misgivings of Ann Schuyler's blue-nosed mother (Louise Closser Hale) and Stew's cynical colleagues ("Ann Schuyler's in the blue book. You're not even in the phone book!"). Unable to stand life in a gilded cage for long, Stew upsets the Schuyler mansion by inviting his friends to a wild and woolly party. Returning home unexpected in the middle of the drunken revelry, Ann lays down the law and Stew bolts -- right into the arms of girl reporter Gallagher (Loretta Young), whom he has loved all along without realizing it. Jean Harlow is surprisingly realistic as the callous society girl but Robert Williams' wisecracking reporter comes across as rather grating. An up-and-coming comic lead, Williams died after an operation for appendicitis on November 3, 1931, less than a month after Platinum Blonde had premiered to mostly positive reviews. Ironically, Loretta Young, who received top billing, had demanded to star in this film when it was still known as "Gallagher," the name of her character. Harlow, needless to stay, stole the limelight completely and Capra changed the title much to Young's chagrin. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide

Jack Conway complained about being assigned to direct this comedy, claiming that a woman like the title character had almost ruined his own marriage. In a way he had a point , but only Jean Harlow could have made gold digger Lil Andrews a sympathetic protagonist. And Katherine Brush's racy novel (which first appeared, serial-fashion, in the Saturday Evening Post) could only have been filmed in the pre-Code days of the early 1930s. Helping both star and story is the snappy dialogue written by Anita Loos. Lil is the classic girl "from the wrong side of the tracks" -- she's a secretary with a bootlegger boyfriend and a wisecracking roommate named Sal (Una Merkel, who was a delightful foil to Harlow in several films). But Lil has ambitions -- she's "strictly on the level, like a flight of stairs," as one character says. She plans to snag Bill Legendre (Chester Morris), son of the venerable company head (Lewis Stone) -- no matter that he's happily married to his childhood sweetheart, Irene (Leila Hyams). Lil throws herself at Legendre until he can resist no longer and she snares him. But things don't work out as planned. Instead of making a big splash in society, she bombs -- so she casts her attention ever upwards to Gaersate, a coal king (Henry Stephenson). But a wrench is thrown into her scheme when she goes mad for his French chauffeur (Charles Boyer). "I've fallen in love and I'm going to be married!" she gleefully tells Sal, before explaining that it's the chauffeur she loves and Gaersate whom she will marry. However, Legendre Sr. has put a detective on Lil's trail and he shows Gaersate a handful of compromising photos. It looks like her game is up, but the last we see of the mercenary miss, she's leaving a fashionable Paris racetrack with a bearded old sugar daddy -- and her beloved chauffeur driving them away. In spite of all her blatant manipulations, Harlow gives Lil a childlike appeal, which makes her actions nearly forgivable (it also helps that the men are such dolts). But not everyone was able to accept a movie bad-girl who did not pay for her sins and, in fact, actually benefited from them -- the film was banned in Germany and England. It may not have gotten much play in France either, but certainly not because of Lil's wantonness. Charles Boyer, who was a star in his native country, was embarrassed at his failure to make a splash in America and didn't want his fellow Frenchmen to see him play a tiny bit-part. Depending on the source, he reportedly convinced MGM to either 1) release the film in France with his parts edited out (which would have made it quite confusing) or 2) not release the film there at all. ~ Janiss Garza, All Movie Guide

Glamorous Jean Harlow had her first big starring role in this standard story of an innocent small town young woman corrupted by big city life. Harlow plays Cassie Barnes, who is bored with her life and jumps at the chance to move to New York City to join her old friend Gladys Kane (Mae Clarke). She gets an apartment with Gladys' friend Dot (Marie Prevost), whose life is not so glamorous -- she addresses envelopes to make money. Cassie quits her first job after her boss hits on her then becomes a model in the department store where Gladys works. There she falls for a philandering tycoon named Jerry Dexter (Walter Byron). Cassie eventually discovers that he is married. Jerry tries to claim that he's going to divorce his wife, but Cassie doubts it and dumps him. Gladys is the mistress of another married man, Arthur Phelps (Jameson Thomas), who keeps her happy with a well-furnished Park Avenue apartment. ~ Michael Betzold, All Movie Guide

Based on the Broadway hit by George S. Kaufman and Edna Ferber, Dinner at Eight is a near-flawless comedy/drama with an all-star cast at the peak of their talents. Social butterfly Mrs. Oliver Jordan (Billie Burke) arranges a dinner party that will benefit the busines of her husband (Lionel Barrymore). Among the invited are a crooked executive (Wallace Beery), who is in the process of ruining Jordan; his wife (Jean Harlow), who is carrying on an affair with a doctor (Edmund Lowe); a fading matinee idol (John Barrymore), who has squandered his fortune on liquor and is romantically involved with the Jordan daughter (Madge Evans); and a venerable stage actress (Marie Dressler), who since losing all her money has become a "professional guest." Nothing goes as planned, due to various suicides, double-crosses, compromises, fatal illness, and servant problems. But dinner is served precisely at eight. The script by Herman Mankiewicz, Frances Marion, and Donald Ogden Stewart is a virtual enclyopedia of witty lines and scenes, right down to the unforgettable closing gag. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide