Madame X (Lionel Barrymore, 1929)

Madame X (Lionel Barrymore, 1929)

Cast: Ruth Chatterton, Lewis Stone, Raymond Hackett, Holmes Herbert, Eugenie Besserer, Ullrich Haupt, Mitchell Lewis. Screenplay: Willard Mack, based on a play by Alexandre Bisson. Cinematography: Arthur Reed. Art direction: Cedric Gibbons. Film editing: William S. Gray. Music: William Axt, Sam Wineland.

Perhaps because Lionel Barrymore had directed a few silent films and because he had acted on stage before giving over his career entirely to movies, MGM drafted him into directing Ruth Chatterton, making her own transition from stage to screen, in this remake of the old chestnut Madame X. Alexandre Bisson's 1908 play had been a hit starring Sarah Bernhardt and was filmed twice as a silent before being dusted off for the novelty of the talkies. The 1929 film was enough of a hit to put Barrymore and Chatterton in the running for the second annual Academy Awards. There were no official nominations that year -- only winners were announced -- but Academy records show that they were under consideration for the Oscars that went to Frank Lloyd for The Divine Lady and Mary Pickford for Coquette (Sam Taylor). That they were considered at all is a sign of how weak the direction and performances of the year were -- it was the first time talking pictures were allowed to compete for the awards. Barrymore boasted of one feat he achieved as a director on the film: He improvised a boom microphone with a fishing pole. But even that claim has been contended by others, and it's likely that MGM's novice sound engineer Douglas Shearer was as responsible as Barrymore for the innovation. Otherwise, Madame X is stiffly staged and filmed, betraying not only its theatrical origins but also the difficulty filmmakers were having with recorded sound. Scenes are often badly framed, with a character's nose and mouth peeping into the shot or the lower half of a face disappearing at the bottom on the screen. In a scene in which Lewis Stone and Holmes Herbert are at a table for an intense discussion, Herbert keeps standing up and sitting down, and you can sense the cameraman's effort to tilt the bulky sound camera up and down to follow him. As for the acting, Chatterton starts off badly in the opening scenes in which her character is still a lady. She retains the intonations of stage elocution, with "cruel" coming out as "crew-ell" and her voice pitched and her mannerisms exaggerated so they can reach the recesses of the theater.  But later in the film, after she has "fallen," she's often quite effectively naturalistic as the weary, tough woman of the world, and she pulls off her drunk scene well. The plot of Madame X is familiar stuff: Woman sins, woman suffers, woman achieves a kind of redemption, and woman dies. But it's substantial enough that it continued to be remade, as soon as 1937 with Gladys George directed by Sam Wood, in British, Philippine, Greek and Mexican versions, in a glossy Ross Hunter-produced version starring Lana Turner directed by David Lowell Rich in 1966, and even in a 1981 TV film with Tuesday Weld. 

Dodsworth (William Wyler, 1936)

Walter Huston in Dodsworth

Sam Dodsworth: Walter Huston
Fran Dodsworth: Ruth Chatterton
Edith Cortright: Mary Astor
Arnold Iselin: Paul Lukas
Captain Lockert: David Niven
Kurt Von Obersdorf: Gregory Gaye
Baroness Von Obersdorf: Maria Ouspenskaya
Matey Pearson: Spring Byington
Tubby Pearson: Harlan Briggs
Renée de Penable: Odette Myrtil
Emily: Kathryn Marlowe
Harry: John Payne

Director: William Wyler
Screenplay: Sidney Howard
Based on the play adapted by Sidney Howard from a novel by Sinclair Lewis
Cinematography: Rudolph Maté
Art direction: Richard Day
Music: Alfred Newman
Costume design: Omar Kiam

I have a feeling that Dodsworth is not quite as well known as it ought to be. It's one of the few Hollywood dramas of the 1930s that seem to have been made for grownups, avoiding melodrama and sentimentality in its treatment of marriage and growing old, and sidestepping the Production Code's infantilizing attitudes toward adultery and divorce. And most of all, it has a wonderful performance by Walter Huston, who was nominated for an Oscar but lost, rather shamefully, to Paul Muni's hammy turn in The Story of Louis Pasteur (William Dieterle, 1936). Huston's Sam Dodsworth is a captain of industry, founder of an automobile company, who decides to sell the business and spend the rest of his life figuring out what to do with himself. His wife, Fran, knows exactly what she wants to do: Sail to Europe and flirt with all those interesting men who can't be found in the Midwestern city of Zenith -- which was also the setting for Sinclair Lewis's novel Babbitt, whose title character became a byword for Midwestern fatuousness. Fran is a few years younger than Sam -- Chatterton was 44, Huston 53 -- and unwilling to grow old gracefully, claiming to be 35 and unwilling to reveal that she has just become a grandmother. Opportunity presents itself immediately on shipboard in the form of a British military officer, but after flirting shamelessly with him, Fran takes fright when they reach England and he wants to take their relationship another step. But when the Dodsworths move on to Paris, Fran becomes bolder and after Sam, bored with life in Europe, returns alone to the United States for a visit with their daughter and her husband, she begins an affair with a suave European. Getting wind of the affair, Sam returns to Paris and confronts Fran, who breaks it off. But their efforts to patch things up fail and Fran asks him for a divorce. In Vienna she finds another suitor, a younger, rather effete aristocrat named Kurt Von Obersdorf, and is ready to marry him once the divorce goes through. Meanwhile, Sam travels on his own and in Naples is reunited with Edith Cortright, a divorcee he had met earlier. Sam moves in with Edith in the villa she is renting, but their happiness is interrupted by Fran's misery: Kurt's mother, the baroness, forbids their marriage on the grounds that Fran is not only divorced but also too old to provide an heir for the family line. A distraught Fran, facing up to failure, urges Sam to return to America with her, presenting him with the dilemma of continuing a marriage that has proved hopeless or exploring the new vistas that have opened for him. Lewis's novel is more in the satirical vein of Babbitt than the film version; Sidney Howard's screenplay, based on his Broadway play, which also starred Huston, evokes Henry James's stories about American encounters with Europeans. William Wyler, with his smooth, unobtrusive professionalism, is the perfect director for the film, which was made under the aegis of producer Samuel Goldwyn, who aimed for polish and prestige and for once achieved it. Given that Dodsworth was made in the mid-1930s, when Nazism was on the rise in Germany and fascism had taken hold in Italy, it seems a bit out of its time. Sam and Edith's dream of traveling the world together feels more than a little naive in the context of the period. The only reference to the rumblings of war perceptible in the film comes in Sam's comment that he prefers the United States because there are "no soldiers along the Canadian border."

Watched on Turner Classic Movies