Fuzzy Knight Movies

Originally titled Eadie was a Lady, this Jean Harlow vehicle was slated for release under the title Born to be Kissed, but the new Production Code vetoed this "suggestive" cognomen. After a brief and uncomfortable period as One Hundred Percent Pure, the film was finally shipped to theaters as The Girl From Missouri. Harlow plays Eadie, a sexy gold-digger who promises to remain chaste until she finds a wealthy husband. Travelling to New York in the company of her best friend Kitty (Patsy Kelly), Eadie manages to keep that promise, though for a while it looks as though she'll succumb to the charms of playboy T. R. Paige Jr. (Franchot Tone). Once Paige has proven that his intentions are basically honorable, Eadie must break down the resistance of T. R. Paige Sr. (Lionel Barrymore), who is dead-set against his son's romance and intends to frame the girl in a compromising position. She gets even with Paige Sr. by framing him, but there's still a couple of reels to go before the happy ending. Except for some provocative costuming, Jean Harlow's character is essentially decent, thereby "cleansing" some of the more risque elements of this enjoyable romantic comedy. The film's best line is delivered by Patsy Kelly who, when propositioned by an elderly roue, snarls "Look at this! Death takes a holiday!" ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Previously filmed in 1923, Zane Grey's To the Last Man manages to pack plenty of A-level production values into what was essentially a B-picture budget. In the years following the Civil War, Kentucky man Lynn Hayden (Randolph Scott) moves his family to Nevada, partly to start life anew, but mostly to leave behind the bloody family feud between the Haydens and the Colbys. This, alas, is not to be: once in Nevada, Hayden lands in the middle of a war between cattlemen and sheepherders -- a war involving the same two families. The film's title is grimly accurate: virtually no one is left standing at the end of the film. The superb supporting cast includes Esther Ralston as heroine Ellen Colby (seen to excellent advantage in a semi-nude swimming sequence!), Jack LaRue and Noah Beery Sr. as the slimy villains, and Shirley Temple in a small part. In addition to its many other plusses, To the Last Man introduces a novel method of billing the actors: each player is introduced by name as he or she appears on-screen. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Cecil B. DeMille's This Day and Age was perhaps the most Draconian entry in Hollywood's early-1930s "vigilante" film cycle. Richard Cromwell heads a group of civic-minded teenagers in a small midwestern town. When a lovable old tailor (Harry Green) is murdered by a notorious gangster (Charles Bickford), Cromwell and his pals demand justice. But the local government is terrified by the influential gangster; in fact, many of the city fathers are on the take. Enraged, the kids take matters in their own hands. In the near-fascist climax, a mob of teenagers kidnap Bickford, spirit him away to the city dump, and suspend him over a pit of rats until he confesses to the murder! This Day and Age was the sort of Depression-engendered film of desperation that all but vanished once Franklin Roosevelt was elected. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

"I'm the finest woman who walked the streets," declares bejeweled, hip-swishing Lady Lou (Mae West) at the beginning of She Done Him Wrong. Lou works as a singer at the Gay Nineties saloon of Gus Jordan (Noah Beery Sr.), who plies her with diamonds to keep her by his side. She runs afoul of stalwart mission captain Cummings (Cary Grant), who warns her that she's on the road to perdition. Mae West's first starring film, She Done Him Wrong literally saved Paramount Pictures from bankruptcy. It would remain the best of her feature films, most of which were severely watered down by the Production Code (whose renewed stringency of 1933 was brought about in great part by West herself). She Done Him Wrong was based on West's own stage play, Diamond Lil, which ran on Broadway for 97 weeks. West sings "Frankie and Johnny," "I Like a Man Who Takes His Time," and ""I Wonder Where My Easy Rider's Gone."" ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Often referred to as an imitation of Warner's legendary prison drama I Am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang (1932), RKO's stirring Hell's Highway was actually released a few months earlier. The two films were in production at the same time, but RKO was determined to beat the competition (which also included Universal's Laughter in Hell, 1933) and not a few corners were cut. All three films were set in a generic Southern state (read Georgia) and depicted a horrid penal system more akin to the Middle Ages than the supposedly enlightened 1930s. In Hell's Highway, the chain gang prisoners wear uniforms with a large target printed on the back and the torture instrument du jour is a so-called sweatbox, in constant operation so that unscrupulous contractor Billings (Oscar Apfel) may construct his "Liberty Highway" on time and under budget. When a prisoner dies from exposure in the dreaded contraption, Duke Ellis (Richard Dix) concocts a plan to escape. The escape comes to an abrupt halt with the sudden arrival of his kid brother, Johnny (Tom Brown). The latter ends up in the sweatbox, but Duke has the kid transferred to office duty by using a bit of blackmail. There is a climactic prison riot, during which Duke is killed after saving his brother once again. Or at least that was what a preview audience saw. The death of the film's hero proved so shocking that RKO hastily filmed an alternative ending and Hell's Highway, as it survives today, concludes with Billings being charged with murder (the sweatbox situation) and Duke asked to testify against him. Typical of pre-code Hollywood, Hell's Highway features an openly gay prisoner (who bats his eyes at the prison guards), several scenes of torture, an appearance of near equality between black and white inmates, a bible-quoting polygamist (Charles Middleton), a wife-murdering guard (Warner Richmond), and, for added verisimilitude, a handicapped character who, when mortally wounded during the riot, signs his farewell to this world. Hell's Highway may not have enjoyed the status of I Am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang, but it remains a powerful indictment of the Georgian penal system of 1931 and a fine, well-acted film in its own right. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide