Eric Alden Movies

The third of four films bearing the title of The Perils of Pauline, this musical biopic purports to tell the life story of famed silent serial queen Pearl White. Right at the beginning, however, an introductory title informs the audience that what follows is merely "suggested" by incidents in White's life and career. Translation: The film is a fabrication from beginning to end, but an enjoyable one. Played on all four cylinders by Betty Hutton, White is introduced as a frustrated factory worker who aspires to become a dramatic actress. She joins a touring theatrical troupe managed by handsome but pompous Mike (John Lund), but fame and fortune elude her because she's unable to suppress her natural rambunctiousness. In desperation, White takes a job at a movie studio, where she promptly finds herself in the middle of a slapstick pie fight. With the help of bombastic director Mac (William Demarest), top-hatted villain portrayer Timmy (Billy De Wolfe), and imperious dramatics coach Julia (Constance Collier), Pearl soon becomes world-famous as the star of such cliffhanging, tied-to-the-railroad-tracks serials as The Perils of Pauline (hence the title of this film). At the height of her fame, she arranges for her theatrical mentor Mike to get a job as her leading man, forcing him to swallow his pride and admit that he's been in love with her from the moment he met her. A series of clichéd complications contrive to separate White and Mike, but he returns to her arms when she's seriously injured during a Parisian stage performance. A few fairly credible recreations of silent moviemaking techniques aside, The Perils of Pauline is wildly anachronistic and inaccurate (for one thing, Pearl White made most of her serials in New Jersey rather than Hollywood). As a musical comedy, however, the film passes muster, especially during the performance of such Frank Loesser tunes as "I Wish I Didn't Love You So" and "The Sewing Machine." As a bonus, the film rounds up several silent-movie veterans in cameo roles, including William Farnum, Chester Conklin, Jimmy Finlayson, Creighton Hale, Hank Mann -- and Paul Panzer, who played the sneering villain in the original 1914 Perils of Pauline. ~ Rovi

This story of two young hopefuls who come to Hollywood is merely a thin device to feature almost every star working for Paramount Studios in 1947. Mary Hatcher plays Catherine Brown, a woman of humble origins who arrives in Hollywood, where she meets another wanna-be movie star, Amber La Vonne (Olga San Juan). They work their way through the Paramount studios, trying to impress every important person. Mostly, the film is a cavalcade of songs by various stars that take place at several studio and Hollywood locations, including the famous Brown Derby restaurant. Many of the film's songs were written by Frank Loesser. Dorothy Lamour and Alan Ladd sing "Tallahassee"; Bing Crosby and Bob Hope play golf and sing a duet, "Harmony"; the Original Dixieland Jazz Band plays "Tiger Rag"; and a host of other top performers of the era appear in brief cameos. ~ Michael Betzold, Rovi

Without Reservations has to be the least typical John Wayne picture of the postwar era. Top billing is bestowed upon Claudette Colbert as Kit, a best-selling novelist heading westward to oversee the film version of her latest novel. Taking it upon herself to select the man who should portray the hero of her novel, Kit chooses war hero Rusty (John Wayne), whom she meets during her train trip to Hollywood. Unaware of Kit's true identity, Rusty and his pal Dink (Don DeFore) rail against the factual errors in her book. One thing leads to another, and before long Kit, Rusty and Dink have all been thrown off the train for annoying the other passengers. After a hectic stopover at a New Mexico farm, Kit reveals who she really is to Rusty and Dink, who are understandably put out. All is forgiven in the end, of course, with Kit and Rusty altar-bound at fadeout time. The Hollywood scenes feature such guest celebrities as Cary Grant, Louella Parsons and Jack Benny; and yes, that is an unbilled Raymond Burr as Claudette Colbert's dancing partner. Without Reservations was based on Jane Allen and May Livingston's novel Thanks, God, I'll Take it From Here (too bad they couldn't use that title!) ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Overloaded with unreleased films in 1942 and 1943, Paramount Pictures cleaned house by diverting several pictures to United Artists. One such effort was The Crystal Ball, wherein beauty contest loser Toni Gerard (Paulette Goddard) takes a job as a sideshow fortune teller. Subbing for the ailing head (Gladys George) of a fake medium racket, Toni whimsically advises attorney Brad Cavanaugh (Ray Milland) to purchase some property that is coveted by the government. Cavanaugh follows her advice, nearly ruining himself in the process. All turns out okay in the end, but there's a last-minute entanglement when several of Toni's disgruntled clients converge upon her all at once. Strictly second-rate, The Crystal Ball is salvaged by the work of such surehanded supporting players as William Bendix, Cecil Kellaway, Mary Field, Ernest Truex, Iris Adrian, Nestor Paiva and Mabel Paige (in her film debut). ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

It's Dorothy Lamour again, sarong and all, in the South Seas wish-dream Beyond the Blue Horizon. Lamour plays Tama, a daughter of the jungle who heads to the US to claim an inheritance. For publicity purposes, press agent Squidge (Jack Haley) tries to team Tama with his client, circus lion tamer Jakra (Richard Denning). As it turns out, Jakra is compelled to return to the South Seas with Tama to obtain positive proof that she is indeed sole heir to her family's fortune. The climax finds Jakra putting his animal-taming skills to practical use when a rogue elephant goes on a rampage. One suspects that audiences in 1942 didn't believe this one either. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Two of Hal Roach's short-subject stalwarts, Patsy Kelly and ZaSu Pitts, are teamed in the Roach-produced feature Broadway Limited. The whole story unfolds on a Chicago-to-Manhattan express train; among the passengers are Hollywood starlet April (Marjorie Woodworth), her producer Ivan (Leonid Kinskey) and her wisecracking secretary Patsy (Kelly). Hoping to stir up publicity for April, Patsy and Ivan conspire to adopt a baby for their client. Trouble is, the authorities are convinced that the child has been kidnapped, causing no end of trouble for such innocent bystanders as engineer Mike (Victor McLaglen), bookish young doctor Harvey North (Dennis O'Keefe) and garrulous clubwoman Myra (Pitts). The film is stolen by infant performer Gay Ellen Dakins, who spends most of her scenes smiling at the camera, oblivious of the adult slapstickery. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Despite its comparatively upbeat ending, Let Us Live is one of the darkest and gloomiest films of the late 1930s. As working stiff Brick Tennant, Henry Fonda is once more cast as a misunderstood victim of society. Held up during a robbery-murder, Brick is himself convicted of the crime on the basis of circumstantial evidence and faulty eyewitness testimony. The authorities remain unsympathetic to the hero's plight throughout, automatically assuming that just because he's poor he's likely to be a killer. Only his sweetheart Mary Roberts (Maureen O'Sullivan) believes in Brick's innocence, and it is she who sets the wheels in motion for the ultimate capture of the genuine culprit, a scant few minutes before Brick's "long walk" to the electric chair. Based on Joseph F. Dineen's Murder in Massachusetts, the real-life story of a near-fatal miscarriage of justice in 1934, Let Us Live refuses to compromise its pessimistic tone with a phony "all smiles" fadeout. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

David O. Selznick's first independent production upheld the producer's tradition, established at Paramount, RKO and MGM, of bringing the "classics" to the screen. Adapted by Hugh Walpole from the novel by Frances Hodgson Burnett, Little Lord Fauntleroy is set in the late 19th century. After establishing Freddie Bartholomew as a likeable Brooklyn boy who can handle himself in a scrap--with the assistance of his roughneck pal Mickey Rooney, of course--the film introduces us to Bartholomew's mother, played by Dolores Costello-Barrymore (though divorced from John Barrymore, Mrs. Costello-Barrymore was still billng herself by her married name). Costello-Barrymore is the widow of a titled Englishman, whose father, the aristocratic Sir C. Aubrey Smith, detests all Americans with equal fervor. Upon discovering that Bartholomew is the rightful heir to his fortune, Smith demands that Costello-Barrymore deliver the boy to his sprawling English country estate. Now addressed by one and all as Lord Fauntleroy, Bartholomew chafes at the restrictions imposed upon him by his station in life. The boy's good nature and forthrightedness wins his grandfather's respect-and, eventually, the old man's love. When pasty-faced Jackie Searl, a false claimant to Bartholomew's title, shows up, Bartholomew's American pals, led by Rooney, set things right. His hard heart softened at last, Smith stage-manages a happy reunion between Bartholomew and Costello-Barrymore. Expertly sidestepping the "sissy" onus that has been unfairly placed upon the original Burnett novel, Little Lord Fauntleroy scored well at the box office. Other versions of this venerable tale have starred Mary Pickford (as both Fauntleroy and his mother) and Ricky Schroder. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Of the two 1934 film versions of the life of Russia's Catherine the Great, Josef von Sternberg's The Scarlet Empress was the most opulent and exotic. Marlene Dietrich plays the German-born Catherine, who is required to marry Russia's mad Grand Duke Peter (Sam Jaffe, decked out in a Harpo Marx wig). As if her joke of a marriage isn't torment enough, Catherine must endure the excesses of her new mother-in-law, Empress Elizabeth (Louise Dresser). Eventually, Catherine finds solace -- and romance -- in the form of Count Alexei (John Lodge). But even this balm is denied her when the ambitious Alexei begins wooing the much-older Elizabeth. When the old Empress dies, Catherine ascends to the Russian throne, knowing full well that her addled husband would kill her at the slightest provocation. Soon her power outstrips Peter's, and the opportunistic Alexei now comes back into her life. The finale finds Catherine emerging triumphant over all her enemies -- and, in the film's least subtle sequence (which is saying a lot!), the new Empress is shown astride a horse, to whom she displays far more affection than any of her human compatriots. The Scarlet Empress has even less to do with accuracy than Paul Czinner's Catherine the Great of the same year, which starred Elizabeth Bergner. Watch for Dietrich's real-life daughter Maria Sieber (aka Maria Riva) as the 7-year-old Catherine in the early scenes. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi