Raffles (George Fitzmaurice, 1930)

Kay Francis and Ronald Colman in Raffles

Cast: Ronald Colman, Kay Francis, David Torrence, Frederick Kerr, Bramwell Fletcher, Alison Skipworth, John Rogers, Wilson Benge, Frances Dade. Screenplay: Sidney Howard, based on a novel by E.W. Hornung and a play by Eugene Wiley Presbrey. Cinematography: George Barnes, Gregg Toland. Art direction: Park French, William Cameron Menzies. Film editing: Stuart Heisler.

Samuel Goldwyn's 1930 version of the old chestnut Raffles, about a gentleman jewel thief known as "the amateur cracksman," was reportedly made as both as a silent film and a talkie simultaneously. It's easy to spot scenes that would work in both versions, such as the one in which Raffles (Ronald Colman) woos Gwen (Kay Francis) in an automobile: We see them through the windshield, but we don't hear what they're saying -- just the sound of the engine running. Colman was one of the silent stars who made the transition to talkies easily, possessing not only good looks but also a speaking voice to match, and his performance in Raffles looks and sounds natural and easy-going. The film, unfortunately, still suffers from some of the sluggishness of early talkies, with dialogue that doesn't flow but chugs along, with pauses between lines that feel as if they're waiting for a title card to be inserted. It's a pre-Production Code film, so Raffles doesn't have to be punished for his crimes at the end -- he simply escapes, with the Scotland Yard inspector who has almost nabbed him admitting in the film's curtain line, "One can't help liking him." The movie was nominated for an Oscar for sound recording, and the nominee, Oscar Lagerstrom, was attentive to background noises like footsteps and car engines, though the version of the film available today is notable for the rumbles and whispers of the soundtrack, unsweetened by a music score.

Mata Hari (George Fitzmaurice, 1931)

Ramon Novarro and Greta Garbo in Mata Hari

Mata Hari: Greta Garbo
Lt. Alexis Rosanoff: Ramon Novarro
Gen. Serge Shubin: Lionel Barrymore
Andriani: Lewis Stone
Dubois: C. Henry Gordon
Carlotta: Karen Morley
Caron: Alec B. Francis
Sister Angelica: Blanche Friderici
Warden: Edmund Breese
Sister Genevieve: Helen Jerome Eddy

Director: George Fitzmaurice
Screenplay: Benjamin Glazer, Leo Birinsky
Cinematography: William H. Daniels
Art direction: Cedric Gibbons
Film editing: Frank Sullivan
Costume design: Adrian
Music: William Axt

Garbo ... dances? Well, only if you call the posing, prancing, and strutting she does before a statue of Shiva in George Fitzmaurice's Mata Hari dancing. It unaccountably brings on a storm of applause, though that may be because in the version shown on Turner Classic Movies we don't see the finale of the dance that audiences saw in the original pre-Code version of Mata Hari: an apparently nude Garbo. The movie was such a big hit for Garbo that it was re-released after the Production Code went into effect three years later, at which time the censors swooped in with their scissors, cutting not only the nude scene -- which in any case featured Garbo's body double with only a suggestion of nudity -- but also some scenes showing Mata Hari and Lt. Rosanoff in bed together. The film is mostly proof that Garbo in her prime could sell almost anything, even this piece of MGM claptrap. Here she vamps a very pretty Ramon Novarro, playing a Russian aviator with a Mexican accent, and connives with the Russian general overplayed by Lionel Barrymore and the sinister spymaster played by the almost as hammy Lewis Stone. Swanning about in some preposterous outfits by Adrian, Garbo's Mata Hari is the typical wicked lady -- she even persuades Rosanoff to snuff the candle he has promised his mother to keep burning before the icon of Our Lady of Kazan -- redeemed by falling in love. Rosanoff atones for his weakness by being blinded in a plane crash, and Mata Hari conceals from him the fact that she's been sentenced to the firing squad and goes off bravely to face her doom. They don't make them like this anymore, and there's a reason: We have no Garbos to pull them off.