Joseph M. Schenck

This film version of the famed Shakespearean comedy features Laurence Olivier as Orlando and Elisabeth Bergner as Rosalind. As the story goes, Rosalind, smitten by Orlando and not able to get his attention, disguises herself as a boy to more easily remain in Orlando's vicinity. Eventually Orlando grows to like his new friend and Rosalind is stuck playing a boy with a boy with whom she'd rather be a girl. Confusing? Maybe only Shakespeare could come up with the idea, but director Paul Czinner does a fine job executing the concept. ~ All Movie Guide

Al Jolson's "comeback" picture Hallelujah, I'm a Bum is an offbeat Depression-era concoction with script by Ben Hecht and S.N. Behrmann and music and lyrics by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart. Jolson plays a genial hobo who wanders happily around Central Park, neither seeking nor accepting honest employment. He is imbued with a sense of responsibility when he rescues pretty Madge Evans from committing suicide. Evans, suffering from amnesia, falls in love with Jolson, completely forgetting her "regular" beau, mayor Frank Morgan. When she regains her memory she heads back to Morgan, leaving Jolson sadder but wiser, and prompting him back to his carefree existence. Much of the dialogue is spoken in rhyme, in the manner of an operetta--though there's nothing Romberg-like about such lyrical phrases as "Hoover's Cossacks." Former silent-film comedy star Harry Langdon has some choice moments as Egghead, a communist streetcleaner, while composers Rodgers and Hartshow up in unbilled cameos. Because the word "Bum" has different connotations in different lands, this film was released in England as Hallelujah, I'm a Tramp. The reissue version, titled Heart of a Tramp, has been severely re-edited, doing considerable damage to the carefully interwoven rhyming dialogue. ~ 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 "Jerry" Trent, a worldly socialite who endeavors to protect her future sister-in-law 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

In this elaborate big-budget musical, a handsome businessman follows a beautiful woman aboard a luxury liner and begins to woo her. This doesn't set well with her fiance. Later the fellow learns of the stock market crash and develops a taste for booze. Romantic mayhem ensues until the inevitable happy ending. Look for a young Bing Crosby singing Irving Berlin's "Lower Than Lowdown," as part of the "Whiteman Rhythm Boys." ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide

In this melodrama, a dancer works in a sleazy Marseilles portside dive that is really the front for a bordello. While dancing one night she meets a sailor and agrees to be his bride. Unfortunately, one of her former suitors suddenly shows up and a terrible fight ensues. The sailor kills his rival and ends up sentenced to Devil's Island. The only females allowed there are the wives of the guards, so, not wanting to be far from her beloved, the dancer marries the meanest guard in the prison. During a prison riot, the sailor proves his mettle and gets pardoned. The couple happily decide to return to the dancer's native Britain. ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide

Magnificently restored by UCLA to its original "Grandeur" wide-screen format The Bat Whispers may not be a cinematic masterpiece but is certainly worth a second look. Opening with a series of flamboyant tracking shots, director Roland West soon enough settles down to the usual "Old House" shenanigans of sliding panels, mysterious bumps in the night, crawling hands, thunder and lightning (sounding more like an earthquake, incidentally, than a storm), etc. An official remake of the 1926 The Bat (which was itself based on an Avery Hopwood play), The Bat Whispers owed just as much to The Cat and the Canary (1927), the true grand-daddy of all haunted house mysteries. After taunting the New York City police a final time, the notorious criminal "The Bat" announces his retirement to the country. Meanwhile, in said country wealthy spinster Cornelia Van Gorder (Grayce Hampton is leasing the Courtleigh Fleming estate. The news of "The Bat" and the simultaneous disappearance of cashier Brooks Bailey (William Bakewell) shortly after a robbery at the Fleming bank set in motion a series of troubling events -- troubling especially for Miss Van Gorder's eternally frightened maid Lizzie (Maude Eburne). The missing Brooks Bailey shows up soon enough courtesy of Van Gorder's pretty niece Dale (Una Merkel), who persuades the young man to impersonate a gardener -- a disguise that fools no one. There is a mysterious doctor who speaks with an accent (Gustav von Seyffertitz); an equally alarming caretaker (Spencer Charters),; a piece of missing blueprint that leads to a secret room; and, of course, "The Bat," who appears to be prowling the estate as well. Enter into all this Detective Anderson (Chester Morris), who in his unique gritty way gets to the bottom of things. The "Grandeur" wide-screen format was lost on most movie-goers when the film premiered in late November of 1930. Exhibitors who had just spent fortunes rigging their theaters for sound were of course loath to spend even more on yet another "newfangled" invention. Of course, some of cinematographer Robert H. Planck's more breathtaking shots of "The Bat" climbing towering skyscrapers were lost in the standard 35mm prints. But cartoonist Bob Kane reportedly had this film in mind when he nine years later created his eternally popular comic-strip hero Batman. A sadly neglected craftsman, Roland West directed only 11 films before he retired at the age of 44. West (who also directed the 1926 The Bat co-starring his then-wife Jewel Carmen as the imperiled niece) left films to run a Santa Monica café with girlfriend Thelma Todd. He was questioned by the authorities but was apparently never a suspect in Todd's mysterious death in December of 1935. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide

Terrified at the prospect of making her talking-picture debut, silent-screen queen Norma Talmadge spent several months taking diction lessons before shooting commenced on New York Nights. The results were negligible: though she managed to keep her thick Brooklyn accent in check, Talmadge was ultimately defeated by the banalities of the script. Based on the stage play Tin Pan Alley, the film casts Talmadge as Broadway musical star Jill Deverne, the wife of struggling composer Fred Deverne (Gilbert Roland). Her new husband's drinking problem causes our heroine to seek solace in the arms of gangster Joe Prividi (John Wray), but after a bloody gangland shootout (filmed on location at New York's 125th Street Station), Jill is more than happy to return to the now-repentant Fred. After a second talkie attempt, Dubarry: Women of Passion, Norma Talmadge, a millionaire several times over, wisely elected to retire from films. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

In this comedy, three GIs return home and discover that they have been officially listed among the dead. ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide

Not the best of Buster Keaton's silents, Steamboat Bill, Jr. nonetheless contains some of Keaton's best and most spectacular sight gags. Keaton plays Willie Canfield, the namby-pamby son of rough-and-tumble steamboat captain "Steamboat Bill" Canfield (Ernest Torrence). When he's not trying to make a man out of his boy, the captain is carrying on a feud with Tom Carter (Tom McGuire), the wealthy owner of a fancy new ferryboat. Carter has a pretty daughter, Mary King (Marion Byron), with whom Willie falls in love. The two younger folks try to patch up the feud, but this seems impossible once the captain is jailed for punching out Carter. Willie tries ineptly to bust his dad out of jail, only to wind up in the hospital while trying to escape the law. As Willie lies unconscious in bed, a huge cyclone hits town, knocking down tall buildings like kindling. Upon awakening, he does his best to remain standing as the winds buffet him about. He takes refuge in a tree, which is promptly uprooted and blown toward the waterfront. Here is where Willie proves his manhood -- and ends the feud between Steamboat Bill and Carter -- by rescuing practically everyone in the cast from a watery grave. Steamboat Bill, Jr. would be memorable if only for one eye-popping (and dangerously real) sight gag: as the cyclone rages, the facade of a three-story building collapses upon Keaton -- who is saved only because the upstairs window has been left open! ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Buster Keaton plays Johnny Gray, a Southern railroad engineer who loves his train engine, The General, almost as much as he loves Annabelle Lee (Marion Mack). When the opening shots of the Civil War are fired at Fort Sumter, Johnny tries to enlist -- and he is deemed too useful as an engineer to be a soldier. All Johnny knows is that he's been rejected, and Annabelle, thinking him a coward, turns her back on him. When Northern spies steal the General (and, unwittingly, Annabelle), the story switches from drama and romance to adventure mixed with Keaton's trademark deadpan humor as he uses every means possible to catch up to the General, thwart the Yankees, and rescue his darling Annabelle -- for starters. As always, Keaton performs his own stunts, combining his prodigious dexterity, impeccable comic timing, and expressive body language to convey more emotion than the stars of any of the talkies that were soon to dominate cinema. ~ Emru Townsend, All Movie Guide

Sorrell and Son, the best-selling (and frequently filmed) British novel by Warwick Deeping, was afforded its first screen treatment in 1927. Upon returning from WWI, courageous Captain Sorrell (H.B. Warner) returns home to find that his wife (Anna Q. Nilsson) has left him for another. Though his spirit has been crushed, Sorrell has a young son to take care of, so he takes a menial job as a hotel porter. His son Kit (Mickey McBan as a child, Nils Asther as an adult) grows up to become a successful surgeon. Though he worships the ground his father walks on, Kit is unable to watch Sorrell die a lingering death from cancer, so he reluctantly euthanizes his dad. The "mercy killing" element, as controversial in 1927 as it would be in 1997, was the principal selling angle of Sorrell and Son, though it didn't hurt that the acting performances and the Oscar-nominated direction of Herbert Brenon were uniformly excellent. Sorrell and Son was remade in 1934, with H.B. Warner repeating his original characterization. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

This first film version of Andre Picard's stage success Kiki stars Norma Talmadge in the title role. A saucy Parisian dancer, Kiki begins keeping time with theatrical manager Victor Renal (Ronald Colman). Her rival for Renal's affections is icy "legitimate" actress Paulette (Gertrude Astor), but Kiki is willing to go to any lengths to claim her man. In the original play, Renal and Paulette were married, making Kiki the interloper, but this was altered so that producer Joseph M. Schenck could cast his star (and then-wife) Norma Talmadge in a more sympathetic light. Kiki was remade in 1931, with Mary Pickford incongruously cast as the oo-la-la heroine. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

With this delightful film, Buster Keaton rivals Charlie Chaplin for comic poetry and pathos. Keaton's character, known only as Friendless, is a Midwestern boy who is down on his luck. After an abortive attempt to get by in the city, he follows Horace Greeley's advice to "Go West, young man!" As a result, Friendless winds up on a cattle ranch and is about the most unlikely cowboy imaginable (in fact, he never does trade in his porkpie hat for a ten-gallon). Various bits of comic business abound; standouts include the milking scene and a card game in which Friendless accuses a player of cheating. The sharpie tells The Great Stone Face "When you say that -- smile!" More importantly, Friendless finds true love -- not with the rancher's daughter (Kathleen Myers) but with Brown Eyes, a cow who seems nearly as out of place in the herd as Friendless does on the ranch. Cow and boy become devoted, but Brown Eyes is headed for the slaughterhouse. Friendless resolves to rescue her, sneaking on the train that's taking her and thousands of other cattle to the Los Angeles station. The herd escapes from the cattle cars at the destination and runs amok through downtown L.A.; it is then up to Friendless to round them up. Look closely during the hilarious stampede scene -- Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle plays a part in drag, and Keaton's father also has a bit in a barber shop. With the help of a costume shop, Friendless saves the day...and his cow. Go West is Keaton's most heartfelt film, and certainly one of his most underrated. ~ Janiss Garza, All Movie Guide