W.S. Van Dyke Movies

This wartime weeper could just as well have been titled Stardom for Margaret, inasmuch as it solidified the popularity of that remarkable child actress Margaret O'Brien. While visiting London, American married couple Robert Young and Laraine Day are caught in the middle of the 1940 blitz. Losing her unborn child during the bombing, Day sadly heads back to the U.S., while her journalist husband stays behind to cover late-breaking events. Young makes the acquaintance of O'Brien and Clifford Severn, children orphaned by the blitz. After pulling the shell-shocked O'Brien out of her near-catatonic state, Young decides to adopt both children and take them back to his wife in the States. There are some tense moments as Young tilts at the stepped-up immigration restrictions, but he is finally able to bring his new family home. Journey for Margaret stars Robert Young and Margaret O'Brien would be reunited two decades later on an episode of Young's TV series Marcus Welby MD, in which Ms. O'Brien played a patient suffering from obesity. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Written by real-life intelligence agent Ladislas Fodor, Cairo is both a spoof of espionage thrillers and a good-natured refutation of Jeanette MacDonald's established screen image (it was her last film on her MGM contract). MacDonald plays wisecracking movie star Marcia Warren, who while "between pictures" in London hires fellow American Homer Smith (Robert Young) as her butler. What Marcia doesn't know is that Smith is an American newspaperman, who strongly suspects that our heroine is a Nazi spy (the real enemy agent is played by Mona Barrie, who looks not at all like dear Marcia). All such misunderstandings are forgotten once the principal characters end up in Cairo, with Marcia and her maidservant Cleona (Ethel Waters) pitching in to help Smith break up an Axis espionage ring. There are "in jokes" aplenty in Cairo, ranging from Jeanette MacDonald's flippant reference to her 1936 film hit San Francisco to the "it's only a movie, folks" closing shot. The music isn't bad, either. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

In this episode of the popular medical series, Kildare finds himself involved in a dispute between to competing hospitals. The trouble begins when an intern rushes a beautiful girl to Kildare's hospital. She has a shard of glass imbedded in her heart. The girl survives the surgery, and the intern is promptly fired for bringing her to the wrong hospital. Meanwhile the girl falls for Kildare, but he is still grieving over his late fiance who died during "Dr. Kildare's Wedding Day." ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

A Rage in Heaven was based on a novel by James Hilton, who thanks to Lost Horizon and Goodbye Mr. Chips was a "hot property" in 1941. Going through many of the same paces he'd trod in Night Must Fall, Robert Montgomery stars as British steel mill owner Philip Monrell, whose outward charm and insouciance disguises the fact that he suffers from hereditary insanity. Throughout his life, Monrell has successfully sidestepped responsibility by hiding behind the accomplishments of his best friend, Ward Andrews (George Sanders). When he marries Stella Bergen (Ingrid Bergman), his mother's pretty travelling companion, the neurotic Monrell becomes obsessed with the belief that Andrews is trying to steal Stella away from him-and thanks to his paranoia, Andrews and Stella do indeed fall in love. Unsuccessful in his efforts to murder Andrews, Monrell decides to exact a bizarre revenge by committing suicide and planting enough clues so that Andrews will be charged with his murder! Though absent from the final half-hour of A Rage in Heaven, Robert Montgomery continues to dominate the proceedings; indeed, for a while it looks as though he will "win" in the end after all. Making her third Hollywood film appearance, Ingrid Bergman felt that the role of Stella Bergen was inadequately suited to her and did her best to drop out of the picture; reportedly, she was mollified when MGM promised to let her play against type as the "bad" girl in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This soapy drama stars Hedy Lamarr as a would be model who meets a research doctor en route to the US from Europe. They meet when Dr. Spencer Tracy prevents her from taking a suicidal plunge from the upper decks of the ocean liner. It seems that Lamarr had been involved with married man Kent Taylor. When he reneged on his promise to divorce his wife Mona Barrie, she decided to end it all. Finding her extraordinarily beautiful, the doctor suggests she join him in his research. The two end up at a slum clinic and it doesn't take long for the doctor to fall completely in love with her. He convinces her to marry him and soon after the wedding, he exchanges life in the clinic for an upscale practice uptown. Servicing the rich is lucrative and soon he has provided his high maintenance wife with a luxurious life. Unfortunately for him, she appreciates his work and sacrifices not a whit, and as soon as she can attempts to respark a romance with Taylor whom she has never stopped loving. Fortunately for the doctor, Lamarr eventually comes to her senses and marital bliss ensues. This film had a troubled history with all of it due to Louis B. Mayer's obsession with making Lamarr the brightest star in the MGM galaxy. Originally the film was directed by Joseph von Sternberg, but he grew frustrated and tired by Mayer's constant interference and quit the film as did the next director, Frank Borzage. As a result an enormous amount of footage was discarded. Finally reliable W.S. Van Dyke was placed on the production and it was completed. Unfortunately, despite all that effort, the film bombed at the box office. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

Directed with customary haste by Woody Van Dyke, Stand Up and Fight is an excellent dual vehicle for veteran Wallace Beery and up-and-coming Robert Taylor. Set in the American west in the mid-19th century, the story concerns the efforts of empire-building Blake Cantrell (Taylor) to construct a railroad across the wide open spaces. Cantrell is faced with obstacles at every turn, none more obstreperous than stagecoach-line owner Captain Boss Starkey (Beery), The film traces Cantrell's progress from drunken roisterer to pioneering visionary, and Starkey's parallel transition from deadly foe to trusted friend. The villlain of the piece is slave-trader Arnold (Charles Bickford), who exploits his friendship with Starkey to Cantrell's disadvantage. Romance enters the picture in the form of Southern belle Susan Griffith (Florence Rice), who has almost nothing to do but look demure and lovely in a series of attractive period costumes. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This sixth installment in MGM's "Andy Hardy" series is among the best, thanks in great part to the breezy direction of "Woody" Van Dyke. In this outing, teenaged Andy (Mickey Rooney) develops a crush on his high-school drama teacher Rose Meredith (Helen Gilbert). Andy's dad Judge Hardy (Lewis Stone) knows that his son is riding for a fall, but he decides to let the boy find out for himself that there's a big difference between youthful infatuation and true love. Sure enough, when Andy proposes marriage to Rose, she reveals that she already has a fiancee. It's a crushing blow for our hero-but only temporarily, since his perennial sweetheart Polly Benedict (Ann Rutherford) is waiting in the wings. Outside of the puppy-love main plot, the film is at its best when Andy writes a play as a vehicle for himself and Rose, with the expected silly results. Less than five months after the release of Andy Hardy Gets Spring Fever, Columbia Pictures "answered" the film with the zany 2-reel comedy Andy Clyde Gets Spring Chicken. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

M.G.M.'s opulent costume drama Marie Antoinette marked a return to the screen after a two-year absence for reigning Queen of M.G.M. Norma Shearer. Shearer plays the title role of an Austrian princess who is married off to Louis Auguste (Robert Morley), the Dauphin of France. Marie, by becoming the Dauphine, finds herself plopped smack in the middle of French palace intrigue between Louis's father King Louis XV (John Barrymore) and his scheming cousin, the Duke of Orleans (Joseph Schildkraut). With Louis unable to consummate his marriage to Marie, she takes to holding elaborate parties and gambling her fortune away. In a casino, she meets the handsome Count Axel de Fersen (Tyrone Power) and they have an affair. But when Louis XV dies and Louis becomes King Louis XVI, Fersen takes his leave, telling her that he could carry on an affair with a dauphine but not the Queen of France. Marie vows to be a great queen and remain loyal to her king. But the Duke of Orleans is plotting against Louis XVI, financing the revolutionary radicals. When the monarchy is overthrown, Louis and Marie are thrown into prison, awaiting execution. But when word gets back to Fersen, he travels back to France in an attempt to rescue Marie. ~ Paul Brenner, Rovi

Contrary to popular belief, the Nelson Eddy-Jeanette MacDonald Technicolor confection Sweethearts is not based on the 1913 Victor Herbert operetta of the same name (though most of Herbert's songs remain intact), but a Dorothy Parker-Alan Campbell brainstorm about a popular Broadway singing duo, starring in a long-running production of Sweethearts. The early portions of the film take place during a purported presentation of the Herbert piece, with Eddy and MacDonald singing their hearts out and Ray Bolger providing comic relief. We then segue into a long sequence wherein producer Frank Morgan, celebrating Sweethearts's six-year run, insists that Eddy and MacDonald attend a lavish party, where the weary performers are called upon to continue singing throughout the evening. Hoping for a few moments alone after escaping the party, Eddy and MacDonald are besieged at their apartment by friends, co-workers, hangers-on and sponging relatives. Seeking peace and quiet, the couple agrees to leave Sweethearts for the comparative calm of Hollywood. But their entourage, fearing that they'll lose their meal ticket if Eddy and MacDonald leave New York, arrange to inaugurate two profitable road companies of Sweethearts by contriving to split up the loving couple. Cleverly sidestepping the sugary sweet sentimentality that one might expect from an MGM musical of the era, the delightful Sweethearts is hampered only by its overlength. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

A golddigger finds that romance doesn't always equal finance in this comedy. Crystal Wetherby (Jean Harlow) is an American widow left stranded in London with a stack of debts incurred by her late husband and barely a shilling to her name. Raymond Dabney (Robert Taylor) is the black sheep of a formerly wealthy family who has just been released from prison for fraud and is looking for work. Crystal hires Raymond to watch over her home so that her creditors won't repossess her belongings; Raymond soon learns that Crystal is being courted by his brother Claude (Reginald Owen), much to Raymond's amusement, since both Crystal and Claude are motivated less by love than the mistaken belief that the other has money. However, Crystal and Raymond become increasingly fond of each other, even though they know they're both flat broke. The supporting cast features two of Old Hollywood's favorite U.K. expatriates, E.E. Clive and Una O'Connor. ~ Mark Deming, Rovi

The MGM historical "spectacular" San Francisco was allegedly based on a three-sentence synopsis, submitted verbally to producer B.F. Zeidman by studio troubleshooter Bob Hopkins. The story begins on the Barbary Coast on New Year's Eve, 1906, as rakish but likeable political boss Blackie Norton (Clark Gable) hires demure young singer Mary Blake (Jeanette MacDonald) to perform at his rowdy Paradise gambling house. Local priest Father Mullin (Spencer Tracy), Blackie's best friend, disapproves of the exploitation of the lovely Mary, feeling that she's suited for classier surroundings. Jack Hurley (Jack Holt), Nob Hill socialite and Blackie's political rival, agrees with Father Mullin and offers the girl the opportunity to sing with the San Francisco Opera. Blackie, who's fallen in love with Mary but won't admit it to himself, jealously holds on to her contract, forcing Mary to walk out on him. For the rest of the film, Mary is torn between the "respectable" lifestyle offered her by Hurley and the baser creature comforts provided by Blackie. It looks for a while that Hurley has won out, but fate takes a hand in the form of the devastating San Francisco Earthquake of April 18, 1906 (a special effects tour de force for art directors Arnold Gillespie and his uncredited associate James Basevi). Hurley is killed in the holocaust, while Blackie, desperately searching for Mary in the rubble, at long last finds religion and prays to God for his sweetheart's salvation. At the end, an unidentified bit player shouts defiantly "We'll build a new San Francisco!" -- and by golly, they do! The Hollywood censors were not so much bothered by the sexual subtext of San Francisco or its harrowing earthquake finale as they were by a scene in which Father Mullin is knocked down by an unrepentant Blackie. To "purify" this potentially blasphemous sequence, screenwriter Anita Loos quickly added an earlier scene in which Mullin and Blackie, both dressed in turtleneck sweaters, genially duke it out at an exercise gym, whereupon the priest cold-cocks Blackie with the greatest of ease. By establishing that Mullin could have punched out Blackie, but chooses not to in the controversial later scene, not only allows that scene to pass, but also strengthened the priest's character. San Francisco proved to be one of MGM's biggest hits, remaining in almost constant reissue for the next three decades. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This second of MGM's Thin Man films reteams William Powell and Myrna Loy as, respectively, bibulous private detective Nick Charles and his socialite wife Nora. The Charleses are sucked into another murder case via Nick's lovely cousin Elissa Landi, whose husband Alan Marshall has vanished. Hubby has been conducting an affair with nightclub thrush Dorothy McNulty (later known as Penny Singleton) and is also blackmailing gangsterish Joseph Calleia. When the corpses begin piling up, Nick and Nora try to piece the clues together, with the earnest assistance of Jimmy Stewart, who carries a torch for Landi. You won't believe who turns out to be the murderer in this one--then again, given the plot's strict adherence to "least likely suspect" formula, you probably will. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

It was standard operating procedure at MGM to cast their favorite singing team of Nelson Eddy and Jeanette MacDonald in new versions of old operettas, then retain only the music, drastically altering the plotlines to conform to popular tastes. This was the treatment afforded the Rudolf Friml-Herbert Stothart-Oscar Hammerstein-Otto Harbach musical Rose Marie--and thank heaven that MGM decided to jettison the original's creaky libretto about a woman who offers her body to the villain to save the hero from a trumped-up murder charge (this chestnut seemed old-fashioned even in 1928, when Joan Crawford starred in the silent version). In lieu of this wearisome storyline, the Eddy-MacDonald version casts MacDonald as a spoiled, temperamental Canadian opera star who learns that her uncontrollable brother (James Stewart), serving a prison sentence, has escaped to a cabin in the North Woods and needs someone to tend his wounds. MacDonald travels to northern Canada incognito, where in a hilarious sequence she tries and fails to pass muster as a dance-hall girl. Upon meeting likeable mountie Nelson Eddy, who unbeknownst to her has been assigned to locate her brother, MacDonald fabricates a story about needing an escort for a rendezvous with her lover. Such latter-day parodies as Dudley Do-Right notwithstanding, the Eddy-MacDonald sequences are often deliberately played for laughs, even when Nelson is uttering such lines as "Heavy? Why, I could carry you for hours!" Gradually, Nelson and MacDonald fall in love, only to fall out of love when Nelson tracks down and captures MacDonald's brother. Despite this rift, a happy--and logical--ending is not long in coming. It might be hard to watch such Eddy-MacDonald duets as "Rose Marie" and "Indian Love Call" with a completely straight face; it is reassuring, however, to find out that the filmmakers knew that "Rose Marie" was ripe for ridicule, and decided to laugh at themselves first in order to disarm the audience. To avoid confusion with the 1955 remake, the 1936 Rose Marie was retitled Indian Love Call for TV showings. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi