Guy D'Ennery Movies

The White Cliffs of Dover is one of those overlong MGM wartime films that everyone seems to have seen a part of, but no one can remember the film as a sum total. Based on a poem by Alice Duer Miller, the story chronicles the trials and tribulations of one courageous woman through two world wars. Irene Dunne plays an American girl who, in 1914, falls in love with titled Englishman Alan Marshal. At the end of World War 1 in 1918, it is painfully clear that Marshal will not be returning from the battlefields. Remaining loyal to her husband, Irene vows to raise their child in England. Played by Roddy McDowell in his early scenes, Irene's son grows up to be Peter Lawford. At the outbreak of World War 2, Irene despairs at the thought of losing another loved one, but Lawford convinces her that his dad would have wanted him to answer his country's call to the colors. While working as a Red Cross volunteer, Irene finds that she must tend her own mortally wounded son. Unable to save his life, she is grief-stricken, but is gratified with the notion that neither her husband nor her boy have died in vain. Like many films of its ilk and era, White Cliffs of Dover struck a responsive chord with filmgoers, to the tune of a $4 million profit. Watch for a touching scene between Roddy McDowell and 12-year-old Elizabeth Taylor; 19 years later, lifelong friends Roddy and Liz would be playing mortal enemies in Cleopatra (1963). ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

An innocent man is put on trial, but is he really as innocent as he claims? Diplomat David Talbot (William Powell) and his bride Lucienne (Hedy Lamarr) are enjoying a honeymoon in Paris when David is confronted by extortionists who demand money in exchange for not turning him in to the police. David has no idea what the men are talking about and ignores their threats, but the men prove good to their word, and David finds himself on trial for a series of thefts. At the trial, David's name is cleared when Henri Sarrow (Basil Rathbone) testifies that he knew the man who committed the crimes, a friend of his who recently died. However, after the trial, David meets Sarrow, who informs David that he lied under oath; according to Sarrow, David did indeed commit the robberies while suffering from amnesia after a severe blow to the head, and if he wants to keep the facts quiet, he'll do whatever Sarrow says. ~ Mark Deming, Rovi

Prairie Pioneers was one of a trio of "Three Mesquiteers" westerns directed by the forgotten Les Orleback. On this occasion, the Mesquiteers are enacted by Robert Livingston (as Stony Brooke), Bob Steele (Tucson Smith) and Rufe Davis (Lullaby Joslin). Their mission this time is to save young Roberto Ortega (Robert Kellard) from hanging for a crime he didn't commit. This requires our heroes to take on a gang of land-usurpers, headed by Carlos Montoya (Davison Clark). Along the way, Stony Brooke dallies romantically with Roberto's lovely sister Dolores (Esther Estrella). ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Republic's "Three Mesquiteers" western series hopscotched all over the calendar, with some entries taking place in the present, others in the far-distant past. As indicated by its title, Covered Wagon Days is a period piece, with heroes Stony Brooke (Robert Livingston), Rusty Joslin (Raymond Hatton) and Rico Rinaldo (Duncan Renaldo) riding into a silver mining camp. The villains keep busy by smuggling the valuable ore across the border, and to add insult to injury have framed Rico's brother Carlos (Paul Marion) on a murder charge. This time it takes only 56 minutes for the Mesquiteers to rout the villains and allow justice to triumph. As always, Covered Wagon Days is enhanced by excellent production values, thoroughly transcending the film's pinchpenny budget. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

In 1940, MGM turned out two films on the life of Thomas Alva Edison.The first, Young Tom Edison, starred Mickey Rooney and trotted out all the old Edison folklore, including the now-discredited incident in which Tom loses his hearing by being yanked onto a train by his ears. Edison the Man, starring Spencer Tracy in the title role, downplays certain inconvenient facts (including Edison's strong-arm tactics to protect his patents), but adheres more closely to actual events than its predecessor. The story concentrates on Edison's most productive years, from 1872 to 1882 (surprisingly ignoring his role in the development of the motion picture!) The inventions invented herein include the ticker-tape machine, the phonograph, the Dictaphone, and of course the electric light. Gene Lockhart is on hand to once more perform his movie specialty of the blinkered financier who can see no future in Edison's crazy schemes. The film tries to stir up suspense by giving Edison only six months to complete his dream of illuminating the streets of New York, lest he lose the contract--and, by extension, his credibility. While Young Tom Edison had unexpectedly lost money, Edison the Man was a success; as for Spencer Tracy, he was a versatile enough actor to escape the fate of poor Don Ameche, who was forever and inextricably associated with his portrayal of Alexander Graham Bell. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

In this exciting spy drama, enemy agents endeavor to steal the plans for a top secret silent aircraft. The plane's inventor wants to sell his invention to other countries but his government will only allow it if the test flights fail. The prototype is sabotaged and crashes on the first test, killing the pilot. The commanding officer shoulders the blame and ends up court-martialed. He then goes to the enemy agents and wins their trust. In this way, he brings them to justice. Meanwhile the fate of the unpatriotic inventor is left in the air. ~ Sandra Brennan, 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

In this adaptation of the operetta by Rudolf Friml, secret agent Nina Maria Azara (Jeannette MacDonald) is working undercover for the King of Spain as a singer known as the "Mosca del Fuego" or "Firefly." Her mission is to uncover Napoleon's plot to invade Spain before it is too late. This film features a variety of songs including "Donkey Serenade," "Love Is Like a Firefly," " and "When a Maid Comes Knocking At Your Heart." ~ Iotis Erlewine, Rovi

The third of MGM's profitable Jeanette MacDonald/Nelson Eddy songfests, Maytime opens in the early 20th century, with a young girl arguing with her boyfriend over her wishes to become an opera singer. The girl's neighbor, a lonely old woman whom we gradually recognize as a convincingly "aged" Jeanette MacDonald, tells the girl of her own career in opera. The old lady was once the radiant young diva Marcia Mornay. In 1868 she was the toast of Europe, thanks to the tutelage of her voice instructor Nikolai Nazarov (John Barrymore). He proposes marriage, and Marcia accepts, more out of gratitude than love. In a euphoric pre-nuptial state, Marcia finds herself on Paris' Left Bank, where she meets handsome café crooner Paul Allison (Nelson Eddy). They meet again at a lavish Maytime festival, falling in love (to the accompaniment of Sigmund Romberg's most dazzling duets) in the process. Sadly, Marcia returns to Nazarov, while Paul goes off to America to lick his wounds. Seven years later, Marcia, making her New York debut in a fictional opera based on the works of Tchaikovsky, finds that the leading baritone is none other than Paul. Unable to envision life without her new love, Marcia begs Nazarov for a divorce. He smiles slyly and promises to give her her freedom-whereupon he heads to Paul's apartment and kills the poor fellow. The flashback done, Marcia advises her pretty young neighbor that one can never have both love and a career. Out of tragedy grows the happy ending, in which the spirit of the now-deceased Marcia is reunited with Paul in a blossom-filled Hereafter. On paper, Maytime may seem to be the ultimate in Hoke, but even in recent revival showings the film never fails to cast its spell over an audience. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Magazine publisher Clark Gable is happily married to Myrna Loy. Clark's devoted, super-efficient secretary Jean Harlow may have once harbored a secret desire for her boss, but she's perfectly content with boyfriend James Stewart. Accompanying Gable on a crucial business trip, Jean answers the phone in her boss' suite. Myrna, on the other end of the line, misunderstands, thereby setting the stage for a series of subsequent misunderstandings. As one can see, nothing much really happens in Wife vs. Secretary. The film is a vehicle in every sense of the word, totally reliant on the appeal of its stars. But it works beautifully, and remains as entertaining now as it did sixty years ago. One film historian has wondered what Wife vs. Secretary would have looked like had it been made before the imposition of the production code: would Jean have really had an affair with Clark, thereby giving Myrna something to really worry about? No matter; while it may have been racier, it's not likely the film could have been any more entertaining than it already is. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This second filmization of Leo Tolstoy's novel is widely regarded as the best version. Greta Garbo plays the title character, the sheltered wife of Czarist official Rathbone. Intending to dissuade Rathbone's brother (Reginald Owen) from a life of debauchery, Garbo is sidetracked by her own fascination with dashing military officer Fredric March. This indiscreet liaison ruins Garbo's marriage and position in 19th century Russian society; she is even prohibited from seeing her own son (Freddie Bartholomew). In keeping with the censorial strictures of 1935 Hollywood, Anna Karenina is extremely careful in the staging of its final suicide sequence, allowing the audience to determine for itself whether or not Garbo's desperate act of throwing herself under wheels of a train is intentional. Outside of the expected superb performances of Garbo and March, the film's most fascinating characterization is offered by Basil Rathbone, whose cold cruelty in banishing his wife is shown to be the by-product of his own broken heart (though Rathbone never allows himself to descend into cheap sentiment). The first film version of Anna Karenina was the 1927 silent feature Love, also starring Garbo, which substituted an imbecilic happy ending for Tolstoy's bleak denouement (there would be an acceptable third version in 1948, starring Vivien Leigh. The 1935 Anna Karenina is arguably the finest accomplishment of the felicitous 1930s alliance between star Greta Garbo, director Clarence Brown and cinematographer William Daniels. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Contrary to popular belief, no one speaks into microphones hidden in vases in this, the first 100% "all-talking" feature film, although an oversized telephone prop is rather conveniently placed near the actors in one long sequence. Although not nearly as crude as its tattered reputation, Lights of New York is far from thrilling, however. Not so much due to the later so maligned sound-on-disc Vitaphone system, but mainly because this was really a quickie B-Movie helmed by a first time director, Bryan Foy, who seems to have been little more than an inefficient traffic cop. Not that there is all that much traffic in this stage-bound melodrama about Eddie (Cullen Landis), a young kid from Upstate New York conned into fronting for a speakeasy on Broadway. There is the inevitable chorus-girl with a heart of gold (top-billed Helene Costello), the downtrodden floozy (Gladys Brockwell), and a cop-killing gangster boss, Hawk Miller (Wheeler Oakman), whom screenwriters Hugh Herbert and Murray Roth furnished with the film's one memorable line. With the cops closing in on him, Hawk needs a patsy. Planting contraband in poor Eddie's shop, the gang leader then instructs his henchmen to "take. . .him. . .for. . .a. . .ride!" Oakman speaks this much parodied line slowly and in a stentorian manner, lest the audience should fail to understand the grave implications. But Eddie escapes his "ride," and there is a final confrontation. Just as all hope seems lost, Hawk is killed by persons unknown. The murder weapon, however, belongs to the chorus girl and she is about to be arrested by no-nonsense Detective Crosby (Robert Elliott), when the real murderer -- the downtrodden floozy -- gives herself up. The performances in this historic talking picture run the gamut from inept (Costello, Landis) to over-the-top (Brockwell) to adequate (Oakman, comic sidekick Eugene Palette). Perhaps due to the newness of it all, the actors keep flubbing their line -- the poor Miss Costello being the worst offender, with Tom Dugan, a veteran supporting player, a close second. Why Warner Bros. should have chosen this pedestrian gangster melodrama as the first full-length talking picture remains a mystery. The best explanation is that the studio was merely testing the waters. Rather than a prestige project like the previous year's groundbreaking part-talkie The Jazz Singer, Lights of New York was produced for a paltry $23,000 and released not on a reserved-seat basis but in a mere grind house. But to everyone's surprise, the film went on to gross over a million dollars in its first run, proving once and for all that talkies had come to stay. Today, Lights of New York remains a museum piece but despite its tattered reputation, the gangster melodrama is really no worse than the majority of low-budget early talkies. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, Rovi