Richard Day Movies

Actor/ writer/ director Erich Von Stroheim stars as a fraudulent count, living high on the hog in Monte Carlo. He supports himself by extorting huge sums of money from silly married ladies who are dumb enough to fall for his romantic charms. Von Stroheim's partners in crime, phony princesses Mae Busch and Maud George, live in a state of perpetual depravity with the count in a huge mansion. Their latest victim, played by an actress who insisted upon being billed as Miss DuPont, is the wife of an American financier. Von Stroheim's attempted seduction of this particular foolish wife is thwarted at every turn, and the count ultimately gets his comeuppance. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Frank Norris' powerful Zola-esque novel McTeague was first filmed in 1915. While filmmaker Erich Von Stroheim would insist that he'd been enthralled by the book since it first came out in 1902, it is more likely that he didn't make the novel's acquaintance until seeing that 1915 film. Whatever the case, Von Stroheim vowed that, if he ever had enough Hollywood clout, he'd produce the "definitive" version of McTeague. After scoring an enormous financial hit with Foolish Wives, he had just that clout, and, in 1923, he began work on what he hoped would his masterpiece.

Stripped to its bare essentials, McTeague tells the story of a brutish, but basically good-natured, miner named McTeague (played by Gibson Gowland), who finds his true calling in life by taking over the practice of a traveling dentist. Setting up shop in San Francisco, McTeague falls in love with Trina (ZaSu Pitts), the daughter of German immigrants. It happens that Trina is the girlfriend of McTeague's best pal Marcus (Jean Hersholt), who is mildly resentful, but ultimately forgiving, when McTeague and Trina are married. Always seeking out an opportunity to better herself, Trina buys a lottery ticket. When the ticket pays off and she wins a fortune, the previously even-tempered Trina undergoes a complete personality change, metamorphosing into a grasping, greedy, miserly shrew, hoarding huge sums of money while her husband must get by on his meager earnings as a dentist. Trina's sudden windfall sparks a change in both McTeague and Marcus, as well; driven to distraction by his wife's avarice, McTeague turns into a violent beast, while Marcus boils with jealousy over losing the now-prosperous Trina to McTeague. Pushed too far, McTeague ultimately murders Trina and escapes to the desert with her money. Appointed a sheriff's deputy, the envious Marcus heads out to bring McTeague in, and the two men catch up with one another in the middle of Death Valley. Their water supply gone, their packhorse dead, McTeague and Marcus begin a fight to the death. McTeague manages to shoot and kill Marcus -- only to discover that Marcus has manacled himself to McTeague. Utterly defeated, he sits benumbed on the scorching rocks, awaiting madness and a horrible death.

Filming at actual locations (the murder scene was shot at a locale where a real murder had occurred, while the sweltering Death Valley sequence was, likewise, made there), Von Stroheim remained doggedly faithful to the Norris original, shooting every page word for word. The end result ran 40 reels, or roughly 10 hours of screen time. Then came the corporate intrigues. Von Stroheim, who had begun the film through the auspices of the old Goldwyn studios, now had to contend with the newly formed Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer regime. Production head Irving Thalberg argued logically that no audience would sit still for ten hours of unrelenting realism. Von Stroheim reluctantly responded by paring his film down to 20 reels, but it was still far too long and depressing for MGM's taste. The director's friend Rex Ingram weeded out two more reels, warning Von Stroheim that "If you cut out another inch, I'll never speak to you again." At this point, MGM, feeling that too much money had already been spent on the project, took McTeague away from Von Stroheim and ordered June Mathis to whittle the picture down to ten reels. It is this version, retitled Greed, that was released to the public in late 1924.

Far from the financial disaster that MGM always claimed it was (the film actually posted a small profit), Greed was still too overpowering for many observers. Critics and audiences were sharply divided, some hailing the film as a work of unbridled genius, others dismissing as "an epic of the sewer." Von Stroheim, angered that his baby had been "butchered," refused to ever see the ten-reel Greed. When viewed today, the film retains its raw dramatic power; the continuity gaps and clumsy transitional titles that once seemed so unforgivable are generally ignored by contemporary audiences. Still, Greed is not a happy, high-kickin' production. Though a rewarding experience, it remains very rough sledding for those accustomed to traditional, conservative entertainment. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

This silent adaptation of Franz Lehar's famous operetta (in which precious little of the original story was retained) was a rare event in Erich Von Stroheim's directorial career -- a critical and commercial success that the director was also able to complete according to his wishes (though in the latter years of his life, he would claim that the film's final moments were forced upon him by studio brass intent on a happier ending). Prince Danilo (John Gilbert) and Crown Prince Mirko (Roy D'Arcy) are two brothers in the Ruritanian royal family who are notorious womanizers, frequently finding themselves competing for the same woman. When Sally O'Hara (Mae Murray), a dancer from America, stops in Ruritania on a performance tour, both Danilo and Mirko are both strongly attracted to her, as is the older Baron Sadoja (Tully Marshall). Each begins making plans to seduce her; however, during Sally's performance, the differences between the three men become apparent -- Danilo is attracted to the beauty of Sally's eyes and face, while Mirko is strictly interested in her body, and Sadoja's intense focus is upon her feet. Danilo introduces himself to Sally after a performance as "Danilo Petrovich," claiming to be a wealthy commoner rather than royalty. He invites her to dine at his estate after her performance, and when he "mistakenly" spills soup on her dress, it's the first step in his successful efforts to lead her to his bed. Danilo asks Sally to marry him, and she agrees. To his surprise, Danilo finds that he is eager to settle down with the American dancer, but King Nikita (George Fawcett) and Queen Milena (Josephine Crowell) forbid him to marry a woman who does not carry a royal title, and Danilo is forced to leave Sally waiting at the altar. Seizing an opportunity, the aging Sadoja asks Sally for her hand in marriage, and she grudgingly accepts; he dies on their wedding night while ecstatically rummaging through her collection of shoes. Sally inherits Sadoja's estate and retains the title of Baroness, and a year later she encounters Danilo, who is still deeply in love with Sally and wants another chance to win her heart -- although since she never learned the truth about why he never arrived for their wedding, she is not eager to be wooed by him again. Mirko also re-enters the picture in a new effort to win Sally's affections, but while Danilo is motivated by true love, Mirko's efforts are fueled by lust, both for her body and her newly-gained wealth. The Merry Widow was a lavishly-staged production shot on a long schedule (19 weeks, very unusual for the time) with a large cast of extras. If you look carefully, you can spot Clark Gable and Myrna Loy among the bit players, several years before either would become a star. ~ Mark Deming, All Movie Guide

The Rafael Sabatini swashbuckler Bardelys the Magnificent served as an excellent vehicle for MGM's top male star John Gilbert. Set during the regime of France's King Louis XIII, the story concerns a bold young braggart named Bardelys (Gilbert), whose sexual conquests have become legendary. When informed that there is at least one member of Louis' court who will not succumb to Bardelys' charms, our hero wagers that he will able to melt this "ice princess," a regal beauty named Roxelanne de Lavedas (Eleanor Boardman). But before he can concentrate his efforts on Roxelanne, Bardelys agrees to deliver some important diplomatic documents on behalf of a dying man named Lesperon. When it turns out that Lesperon was a traitor to the throne, Bardelys is sentenced to hang. In the final scenes, our hero desperately tries to escape his fate, while Roxelanne tearfully prepares to marry the only man who can clear Bardelys' name. Unfortunately, Bardelys the Magnificent no longer exists, though a tantalizingly brief excerpt appears in the Marion Davies comedy Show People. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

As a group, the silent-movie collaborations between director Tod Browning and star Lon Chaney hardly represent the best work of either man, though each film definitely has its moments. One of the best, and weirdest, of the batch is The Unknown. Chaney plays a carnival performer known as the "Armless Wonder," who performs near-miraculous stunts with his bare feet. In fact, he is in possession of both his arms, but keeps them strapped to his side to maintain the illusion of being limbless. Chaney's beautiful assistant Joan Crawford has a pathological fear of being touched by any man. This leads Chaney to believe that he is attractive to Crawford so long as his keeps his arms hidden. Halfway through the film, Chaney murders the circus manager--a crime witnessed by Crawford, who was only able to glimpse Chaney's distinctively mutated thumb. To cover up his crime, and to make himself the perfect mate for Crawford, Chaney blackmails a doctor into amputating his arms. Upon returning to the carnival, the now-genuinely armless Chaney learns to his horror that Crawford has overcome her aberration of being touched, thanks to handsome circus strong man Norman Kerry. Enraged, Chaney plots to kill Kerry in a horrible fashion...but guess who ends up seriously dead? ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

The Enemy was based on the rabidly anti-war play by Channing Pollock. Lillian Gish plays Pauli Amdt, the granddaughter of August Behrend (George Fawcett), a pacifistic Viennese schoolteacher. Pauli marries student Carl Behrend (Ralph Forbes), who almost immediately thereafter marches off to World War I. We say "almost," because Pauli has been rendered pregnant. When her grandfather loses his job due to political pressure, poor Pauli is forced into prostitution to provide food for her baby. Things get darker when Carl is reported missing in action. A happy ending did not diminish the dramatic clout of the earlier scenes, though when The Enemy was first released, many critics complained that Lillian Gish's performance paled in comparison to that of Fay Bainter, who starred in the original Broadway production. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

'That's either your wife or your sister-in-law!" declares Gwen Lee to Aileen Pringle in the middle of Adam and Evil. This should be indication enough that this silent feature was a comedy, despite its title. Lew Cody, married to Aileen Pringle, pretends to be his own twin brother so that he can carry on with Ms. Lee. The laughs start rolling in when Cody's genuine lookalike brother shows up. Hedda Hopper and Roy D'Arcy play Cody's nonplussed friends in this door-slamming farce, cowritten by Florence Ryerson and F. Hugh Herbert. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Having alienated virtually all the major Hollywood studios, filmmaker Erich Von Stroheim turned to independent entrepreneur Pat Powers for funding for his 1927 epic The Wedding March. Set during the Austro-Hungarian Hapsburg regime, the film stars director Von Stroheim as wastrelly Prince Nikki, who is advised by his parents to marry into money if he hopes to keep up his sumptuous lifestyle. During the Corpus Christi festival (much of which is lensed in early Technicolor), Nikki spots the beautiful peasant girl Mitzi (Fay Wray) in the crowd. The two fall in love, but happiness eludes them: Nikki is slated to marry the homely, clubfooted daughter (ZaSu Pitts) of a millionaire corn-plaster manufactuer, while Mitzi's erstwhile boy friend, a mean-spirited butcher (Matthew Betz) who despises the aristocracy, promises dire consequences to Nikki for compromising Mitzi. Despite his dissipated, debauched lifestyle, Prince Nikki develops into the most sympathetic character in the film. As it now exists, The Wedding March is one of Von Stroheim's best films; incredibly, it was originally the first half of a two-part production (the second half, The Wedding, no longer exists). Released by Paramount, the film did excellent business during its first week-then dropped off precipitously, one of several factors which caused an irreparable rift between Von Stroheim and his new benefactor Powers. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

With the arrival of talkies, every major studio hopped on the musical bandwagon by turning out lavish "revues," spotlighting their top stars performing specialty numbers. MGM's entry in this all-star genre was Hollywood Revue of 1929, which, though a box-office smash and a "Best Picture" Oscar nominee, is an absolutely deadly experience when seen today. Even so, it coasts by on its curiosity value, as several major MGM luminaries display their all-talking, all-singing, all-dancing talents (or lack of same). The film is hosted by Conrad Nagel and Jack Benny, the latter still purveying the "wise-guy" personality he used on screen before adopting his more likable radio characterization. Some of the individual acts are modestly entertaining: Joan Crawford, the top of her head cut off due to faulty camerawork, is quite appealing in a jazz number; Laurel and Hardy and Buster Keaton provide genuine laughs, the former in a makeshift magic act and the latter performing a burlesque ballet; Bessie Love and Marion Davies are cute and cuddly in their respective musical numbers, while Marie Dressler is outrageously funny in her brace of appearances; and, best of all, Cliff Edwards solemnly introduces MGM's "signature" tune Singin' in the Rain, which serves as a leitmotif throughout the picture. Other "highlights" are more impressive for their concept than their actual execution: Gus Edwards' "Lon Chaney Will Get You if You Don't Find Out" would have been more interesting had the real Lon Chaney Sr. made an appearance (something he reportedly refused to do), while John Gilbert and Norma Shearer's "slang" version of the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet (a sequence filmed in Technicolor) produces winces rather than laughs. At that, these scenes are easier to digest than the wretched sentimental ballad Your Mother and Mine, performed ad nauseum by the otherwise reliable Charles King, and the overproduced and under-rehearsed Orange Blossom finale (also in color). Long available only in its 82-minute TV release version, Hollywood Revue of 1929 was restored to nearly its original 125-minute length in the 1970s; the film is worth seeing once for historical purposes, but is hardly a "keeper," even for the most diligent of video collectors. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Adapted from Owen Davis's stage comedy The Nervous Wreck (itself filmed in 1927), Flo Ziegfeld's musical spectacular Whoopee! was one of the solid hits of the 1928-29 Broadway season, thanks largely to the irrepressible Eddie Cantor. The property was transferred to film virtually intact in 1930, again produced by Ziegfeld (in collaboration with Sam Goldwyn) and again starring Cantor. The star plays Henry Williams, a wide-eyed hypochondriac who heads to a western resort town in the company of his long-suffering nurse Mary Custer (Ethel Shutta). Meanwhile, Wanenie (Paul Gregory), the son of an Indian chief, pines away out of love for white heiress Sally Morgan (Eleanor Hunt), who has been forbidden to marry Wanenie because of their racial differences. One of the most unsympathetic heroines in screen history, Sally coerces Henry into helping her elope then allows the poor boob to be accused of kidnapping. All sorts of zany complications ensue, not least of which is the side-splitting scene in which Henry, disguised as an Indian, adopts a thick Jewish accent while trying to sell a rug to a tourist. The Sally/Wanenie dilemma ends happily when the young man turns out not to be Indian after all, while Henry, cured of his ills by all the excitement, marries nurse Marie. The "Ziegfeld Touch" is most obvious in the final reels, when the story stops dead in its tracks to offer a long, drawn-out parade of "Glorified" Follies girls wearing enormous headdresses and precious little else. But the film's highlight is Eddie Cantor's sly, insinuating rendition of the title song, in which he details in humorous fashion the pitfalls of "makin' whoopee" with the wrong girl. Featured among the Goldwyn Girls are such future stars as Claire Dodd, Virginia Bruce, and 14-year-old Betty Grable, who energetically performs the very first chorus of the very first song in the film. Lensed in eye-pleasing early Technicolor, Whoopee was a success, launching a long and fruitful cinematic collaboration between Eddie Cantor and Sam Goldwyn. It was remade by Goldwyn in 1944 as Up in Arms, a showcase for the producer's "new Cantor" Danny Kaye. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Divesting herself of her own production company, silent-screen queen Gloria Swanson entered into a two-picture deal with producer Joseph M. Schenck, which paid her a straight (and very hefty) salary for both productions. The first film completed under this arrangement was the trivial romantic comedy- musical Indiscreet, scripted and scored by songwriters Buddy G. DeSylva, Ray Henderson, and Lew Brown and directed by the matchless Leo McCarey. Swanson plays Geraldine "Gerry" Trent, a worldly socialite who endeavors to protect her sister Joan (Barbara Kent) from the lecherous machinations of Jim Woodward (Monroe Owsley). But when Joan discovers that Jerry and Woodward were once lovers themselves, she mistakenly believes that Jerry's attempts to break up her romance is motivated by jealousy. In fact, Jerry is completely committed to Joan's brother Tony Blake (Ben Lyon). One of the more successful of Gloria Swanson's talkies, Indiscreet posted a much-needed profit for financially strapped United Artists. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

This first of four film versions of the Ben Hecht/Charlrd MacArthur Broadway hit stars Adolphe Menjou as explosive Chicago newspaper-editor Walter Burns and Pat O'Brien as his star reporter Hildy Johnson. Hildy is on the verge of getting married and retiring from Burns' dirty little tabloid, but he agrees to cover one last story: the politically motivated execution of convicted cop killer Earl Williams (George E. Stone). Thanks to the stupidity of the police, Williams manages to escape, and Johnson hides the wounded fugitive in a rolltop desk in the prison pressroom. Burns enters the scene, senses a swell story (and also a means of keeping Johnson on his payroll), and conspires with Johnson to keep Williams out of sight until they can secure an exclusive interview. Burns will do anything to keep Johnson on the scene, including having the reporter's future mother-in-law kidnapped. Complicating matters are Johnson's fiancée Peggy (Mary Brian), Williams' girlfriend Molly Malloy (Mae Clarke), and the corrupt mayor (James Gordon) and sheriff (Clarence C. Wilson), who have railroaded Williams to the death house in order to win votes and are now trying to suppress the news that the governor has commuted Williams' sentence. The Front Page was remade by Howard Hawks in 1939 as His Girl Friday, with the symbiotic relationship between Burns and Johnson changed to a sexual one by transforming Hildy Johnson into a woman (played by Rosalind Russell) with Cary Grant as her old flame Walter. It was again remade by Billy Wilder in 1974 with Jack Lemmon, Walter Matthau, Carol Burnett, and a young Susan Sarandon. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Eddie Cantor plays Eddie Simpson, a shy and jumpy young fellow who spontaneously bursts into song whenever he gets nervous. He works with the sly Yolando, a phony but successful psychic. The trouble in this lively musical farce begins when Yolando attempts to swindle the owner of the local bakery. ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide