Guy Pearce Movies

The Idol of Paris is based on Paiva, Queen of Love, a novel by Alfred Schirokauer. Set in the mid-19th century, the film traces the rags-to-riches story of a girl named Theresa (Beryl Baxter). Sleeping her way to the top, she becomes a highly sought-after Parisian courtesan, one worthy of the attentions of the Emperor Napoleon (Kenneth Kent). But Theresa has no time for the Emperor, not with such virile lovers as Hertz (Michael Rennie) around and about. Despite inherent censorship problems, The Idol of Paris was picked up for American distribution by Warner Bros. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Based on the novel by A.J. Cronin, The Keys of the Kingdom was the first big-budget effort of movie-newcomer Gregory Peck. This is the 137-minute chronicle of a Scottish priest (Peck), who is assigned a mission in China. Never very focused in his life or work, the priest finds plenty to keep his mind occupied in his new post; when he isn't coping with the starvation and poverty plaguing his flock, he must contend with China's bloody civil war. Nonetheless, he perseveres, and finds it difficult as an elderly man to retire. He returns to Scotland, where he finds a new purpose in life; that of ministering to youngsters who, like him, have trouble determining their place in the world. Keys of the Kingdom was one of the last 20th-Century-Fox films produced by Joseph L. Mankiewicz before his career-shift to directing; Rose Stradner, Mankiewicz' then-wife, has an important role in the film. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Director Robert Stevenson collaborated with novelist Aldous Huxley and theatrical-producer John Houseman on the screenplay for this 1944 adaptation of Charlotte Bronte's gothic romance Jane Eyre. After several harrowing years in an orphanage, where she was placed by a supercilious relative for exhibiting the forbidden trait of "willfulness," Jane Eyre (Joan Fontaine) secures work as a governess. Her little charge, French-accented Adele (Margaret O'Brien), is pleasant enough. But Jane's employer, the brooding, tormented Edward Rochester (Orson Welles), terrifies the prim young governess. Under Jane's gentle influence, Rochester drops his forbidding veneer, going so far as to propose marriage to Jane. But they are forbidden connubial happiness when it is revealed that Rochester is still married to a gibbering lunatic whom he is forced to keep locked in his attic. Rochester reluctantly sends Jane away, but she returns, only to find that the insane wife has burned down the mansion and rendered Rochester sightless. In the tradition of Victorian romances, this purges Rochester of any previous sins, making him a worthy mate for the loving Jane. The presence of Orson Welles in the cast (he receives top billing), coupled with the dark, Germanic style of the direction and photography, has led some impressionable cineasts to conclude that Welles, and not Stevenson, was the director. To be sure, Welles contributed ideas throughout the filming; also, the script was heavily influenced by the Mercury Theater on the Air radio version of Jane Eyre, on which Welles, John Houseman and musical director Bernard Herrmann all collaborated. But Jane Eyre was made at 20th Century-Fox, a studio disinclined to promote the auteur theory; like most Fox productions, this is a work by committee rather than the product of one man. This in no way detracts from the overall excellence of the film; of all adaptations of Jane Eyre (it had previously been filmed in 1913, 1915 and 1921, and has been remade several times since), this 1943 version is one of the best. Keep an eye out for an uncredited Elizabeth Taylor as the consumptive orphanage friend of young Jane Eyre (played as child by Peggy Ann Gardner). ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Charles Winninger plays an old seaman who rules the roost in his family, which resides on a Florida houseboat. His oldest granddaughter (Anne Baxter) draws up plans to invite a serviceman for Sunday dinner, just before the boy will be shipped out. Because of their ramshackle lifestyle, Winninger's brood has trouble getting a soldier to accept their hospitality until lonely, defensive GI John Hodiak comes along. Nothing much happens thereafter that isn't totally expected, including Hodiak's changing his outlook on life and falling in love with the granddaughter. Sunday Dinner for a Soldier is the sort of laid-back, anecdotal film that was indigenous to Hollywood's "feel-good" brand of wartime entertainment. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Producer Darryl F. Zanuck had high hopes that Wilson would immortalize him in the manner that Gone With the Wind did for David O. Selznick. The notion of bringing the life story of Woodrow Wilson, 28th president of the United States, to the big screen was a labor of love for Zanuck, and accordingly the producer lavished all the technical expertise and production values he had at his disposal. Though Alexander Knox seems a bit too robust and overnourished for Wilson, his is a superb performance, evenly matched by those of Ruth Nelson as Wilson's first wife Ellen, Geraldine Fitzgerald as second wife Edith, Thomas Mitchell as Joseph Tumulty, Sir Cedric Hardwycke as Henry Cabot Lodge, Vincent Price as William Gibbs McAdoo, Sidney Blackmer as Josephus Daniels, and the rest of the film's enormous cast. The story begins in 1909, a time when Wilson is best known as the head of Princeton University and the author of several books on the democratic process. Urged into running for Governor of New Jersey by the local political machine, Wilson soon proves that he is his own man, beholden to no one-and that he is dedicated to the truth at any cost. From the governor's office, Wilson is nominated as the Democratic presidential candidate, an office he wins hands-down over the factionalized Republicans. The sweetness of his victory is soured by the death of his wife Ellen, but Wilson ultimately finds lasting happiness with Edith Galt. When World War I breaks out in Europe, Wilson vows to keep America out of the conflict, despite pressure from such political foes as Henry Cabot Lodge (who is depicted as a thoroughly unsympathetic power broker). After being elected for a second term, however, Wilson finds it impossible to remain neutral, especially in the wake of the Lusitania sinking. Reluctantly, he enters the war in April of 1917. Deeply disturbed by the mounting casualties, Wilson decides that, after the Armistice, he will press for a lasting peace by helping to organize a League of Nations. Unfortunately, the isolationist congress, urged on by Lodge and his ilk, refuses to permit America's entry into the League. His health failing, Wilson nonetheless embarks on a whistle-stop tour, imploring the public to support the League of Nations and Wilson's 12-point peace program. During this campaign, he is felled by a stroke, whereupon Mrs. Wilson begins acting as liason between the president and the rest of the country (the commonly held belief that Edith Galt Wilson virtually ran the nation during this crisis is soft-pedalled by Lamar Trotti's script). All hopes for America's joining the League of Nations are dashed when, in the 1920 election, the Republicans gain control of the White House. The film ends as the ailing but courageous Woodrow Wilson bids farewell to his staff and walks through the White House doors for the final time. Idealistically ignoring the negative elements of the Wilson regime (notably his attitudes toward racial relationships), Wilson is not so much a biography as a paean to the late president. Though too long and overproduced, the film survives as one of Hollywood's sturdiest historical films of the 1940s. However, audiences did not respond to Wilson as Zanuck had hoped; the film was a terrific flop at the box office, so much so that it was for many years forbidden to speak of the project in Zanuck's presence. Still, Wilson garnered several Academy Awards: best original screenplay, best color art direction (Wiard Ihnen), best color cinematography (Leon Shamroy), best sound recording (E. H. Hansen), best film editing (Barbara McLean) and best color set decoration (Thomas Little). ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This now-classic indictment of mob rule was a pet project of both star Henry Fonda and director William Wellman, both of whom agreed to work on lesser 20th Century-Fox projects in exchange for this film. After a hard winter on the range, cowboys Gil Carter (Fonda) and Art Croft (Harry Morgan) ride into a fleabitten small town for a drink. Within minutes, they get mixed up in a barroom brawl, which earns them the animosity of the locals. By and by, word reaches town that a local rancher has been killed by rustlers. With the sheriff out of town, a lynch mob is formed under the leadership of Major Tetley (Frank Conroy), a former Confederate officer who hopes to recapture past glories. Worried that they'll be strung up, Carter and Croft reluctantly join the mob and head out of town. In the dark of night, the group comes across three sleeping transients: a farmer named Martin (Dana Andrews), a Mexican (Anthony Quinn), and a senile old man (Francis Ford). The fact that Martin carries no bill of sale written by the so-called murder victim is evidence enough for Tetley to demand that the three men be hanged on the spot. Carter knows that this is a gross miscarriage of justice, but he's helpless to intervene. Resolving himself to his fate, Martin gives Carter a letter to deliver to his wife. The three unfortunates die at the end of the rope, and the mob rides off, only to discover that there never was a murder of any kind. Based on a novel by Walter Van Tilburg Clark, The Ox-Bow Incident is not so much a western as a gothic melodrama, with deep, looming shadows and atmospheric underlighting worthy of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Though the film lost a fortune at the box office (a fact that Fox head Darryl F. Zanuck never tired of pointing out to Fonda and Wellman), it gains in stature with each passing year. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

A man trying to leave his fame behind discovers the perils of choosing to be the wrong unknown person in this farcical British comedy. Priam Farli (Monty Woolley) is an eccentric but famous and well-respected artist who prefers to work in total seclusion -- so much so that he's spent the last 20 years creating his paintings while living on an isolated island in the Pacific, with only his valet, Henry Leek (Eric Blore), for company. When word reaches Farli that he is to be knighted by King Edward VII (Edwin Maxwell), the artist reluctantly sails back to Great Britain with Leek, but en route, his devoted servant dies. Seeing a perfect opportunity to once again escape the public eye, Farli poses as Leek and claims that the great painter was the one who passed away. Farli is not allowed to attend his own funeral, but things get more complicated when Alice Challice (Gracie Fields) appears with a letter in which Leek proposes marriage to her. Wanting to maintain his cover, Farli goes through with the wedding, only to find that Leek was already married, and his first wife (Una O'Connor) would like some explanations as to why her Henry has taken another wife, not to mention wondering where he's been for the past two decades. Laird Cregar, Alan Mowbray, and Fritz Feld highlight the supporting cast. ~ Mark Deming, Rovi

Dorothy McGuire charmingly recreates her stage role in this film adaptation of Rose Franken's Broadway hit Claudia. The title character (McGuire) is the naïve, somewhat childish young bride of David Naughton (Robert Young). Slowly adapting to married life, the unworldy Claudia receives several "wake-up calls" regarding the maintenance of a household, dealing with her husband's (and her own) sexual urges, impending childbirth, and, on a more somber note, the inevitable death of a loved one. A subplot involving the criminal past of the family butler is downplayed on screen, and the film is the better for it. Tops among the supporting cast of Claudia is Ina Claire as the heroine's witty, sprightly and, alas, doomed mother. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

On the day of his death in 1943, the spirit of Henry Van Cleave (Don Ameche) obligingly heads for the place where so many people had previously told him to go. The immaculately dressed septuagenarian arrives at the outer offices of Hades, where he is greeted by His Excellency (Laird Cregar), the most courteous and gentlemanly Satan in screen history. His Excellency doubts that Van Cleave has sinned enough to qualify for entrance into Hades, but Henry insists that he's led the most wicked of lives, and proceeds to tell his story. Each milestone of Henry's life, it seems, has occurred on one of his birthdays. Upon reaching 15, Henry (played as a teenager by Dickie Moore) naively permits himself to get drunk with and be seduced by his family's French maid (Signe Hasso). At 21, Henry elopes with lovely Martha Strabel (Gene Tierney) stealing her away from her stuffy fiance Albert Van Cleve (Allyn Joslyn), Henry's cousin. At 31, Henry nearly loses Martha when, weary of his harmless extracurricular flirtations, she goes home to her boorish parents (Eugene Pallette and Marjorie Main). Henry's grandpa (Charles Coburn) orders the errant husband not to let so wonderful a girl as Martha get away from him. Henry once more declares his love to Martha, and she can't help but be touched by his boyish sincerity. Twenty years later, Henry, now a faithful and proper husband and father, attempts to charm a beautiful musical-comedy entertainer (Helen Walker) so that she'll forsake his young and impressionable son. But Henry's gay-90s romantic approach is out of touch with the Roaring 20s, and he ends up paying the entertainer a tidy sum to rescue his son--a fact that amuses Henry's understanding wife Martha, who now knows that her husband is hers and hers alone. Ten more years pass: Henry dances a last waltz with Martha, whose loving smile hides the fact that she knows she hasn't much longer to live. Five years later, it is "foxy grandpa" Henry who must be kept in check by his conservative son Jack (Michael Ames). Finally, it is 1943: as he quietly drinks in the loveliness of his night nurse (Doris Merrick), the bedridden Henry contentedly breathes his last. His story told, Henry once again asks to be permitted to enter Hades. But His Excellency, realizing that the only "sin" Henry has truly committed is attempting to live life to the fullest, quietly replies "If you'll forgive me, Mr. Van Cleave, we just don't want your kind down here." While he allows that Henry may have some trouble getting past the Pearly Gates, the wait will be worth it, since his loving wife Martha will be waiting for him. His Excellency cordially escorts Henry to the elevator, giving the operator a one-word instruction: "Up." A charming delight from first frame to last, Heaven Can Wait is another winner from director Ernst Lubitsch, and his first in Technicolor. Samson Raphaelson's screenplay was based on Birthdays, a play by Laslo Bus-Fekete. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Tales of Manhattan is a sumptuous multipart film centered around a formal tailcoat. The coat is specially designed for stage actor Charles Boyer, who wears it during a rendezvous with his lady friend (Rita Hayworth). The lady's husband (Thomas Mitchell) shoots Boyer, thus the tailcoat is damaged merchandise and sold at a discount to a bridegroom (Cesar Romero). When the groom's peccadillos catch up to him, the bride (Ginger Rogers) chooses to marry the best man (Henry Fonda) instead, and the coat is shipped off to a second hand store. It is purchased by a would-be composer (Charles Laughton), who wears it the night that he is to conduct his first symphony; alas, the coat is too tight and tears apart, nearly ruining the conductor's debut. Stitched back together, the coat is donated to a skid row mission, wherein the kindly proprietor gives the coat to a down and out drunkard (Edward G. Robinson) so that the shabby gentleman can attend his 25th college reunion. Later on, the coat is stolen by a crook (J. Carroll Naish) in order to gain entrance to a fancy charity ball. The crook holds up the ball and stuffs the loot in the pockets of the coat, but while escaping in an airplane he loses the outer garment. The coat floats down to an impoverished African American shanty community; a farmer (Paul Robeson) decides to distribute the "money from heaven" amongst his needy neighbors. At the end, the tattered coat adorns the shoulders of a scarecrow. Tales of Manhattan is one of the best "portmanteau" dramas turned out by Hollywood; it was directed by French expatriate Julien Duvivier, a past master of the multi-story technique. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

One of the shortest and sweetest of Betty Grable's Technicolor musicals, Song of the Islands casts the Leggy One as Eileen, the daughter of Hawaii-based Irish planter Dennis O'Brien (Thomas Mitchell). For many years, O'Brien has been carrying on a feud with local cattle baron Harper (George Barbier), who covets a patch of beach land that O'Brien owns but won't relinquish. It so happens that Barbier has a handsome son named Jeff (Victor Mature), who upon returning to Hawaii from the Mainland immediately falls in love with Eileen. Before the feud can be patched up, the audience is treated to an endless supply of music and dancing, with both Betty Grable and Victor Mature generously displaying the physical attributes which brought them worldwide fame. Incidentally, some wonderful outtake footage of Song of the Islands exists, featuring Grable and Mature giggling their way through a tender love scene. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This period swashbuckler film is based on the adventure novel Benjamin Blake by Edison Marshall, who also wrote The Vikings (1958). When his brother dies, scheming Arthur Blake (George Sanders) kidnaps his own nephew, Benjamin (played as a youth by Roddy McDowall and as an adult by Tyrone Power). Arthur's purpose is to claim his brother's dukedom for himself. Put to work as a stable boy, Benjamin grows up and develops a crush on his own cousin Isabel (Frances Farmer). When Arthur discovers this, he mercilessly beats Benjamin, who runs away and sails to India on a cargo ship to make his fortune. In Polynesia, he and a friend, Caleb (John Carradine), jump ship and set up camp on a tropical island paradise. There, Benjamin and Caleb become rich mining pearls, while Benjamin falls in love with a native girl, Eve (Gene Tierney). Now that he has amassed wealth, however, Benjamin is determined to return to England and get his revenge on Uncle Arthur. ~ Karl Williams, Rovi

Based on the Ben Hecht/Charlie McArthur play Chicago, Roxie Hart is a short-but-sweet satire of highly publicized court trials. Ginger Rogers plays showgirl Roxie Hart, whose no-good husband kills a man and insists that Roxie take the blame, since juries seldom send a woman to the chair. She agrees, figuring that the publicity will be beneficial to her career. Roxie's case is taken by grandstanding attorney Adolphe Menjou, who regards the sacred halls of justice as his own three-ring circus. George Montgomery plays the reporter covering the trial, who falls in love with Roxie and eventually marries her after she dumps her cowardly hubby. Roxie Hart plays fast and loose with legal ethics, but is no less hilarious because of it. Some of the best moments belong to Iris Adrian, as an imprisoned "Bonnie Parker"-type killer who's jealous that Roxie is stealing all the headlines. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi