Baby Face, French Lobby Card
Baby Face, 1933
Directed by Alfred E. Green
Spring Break. Let’s take time to soak in some sunshine, sin and bathtub gin. Served up shameless– please. Like Barbara Stanwyck in Baby Face.
After a transparently draped Jean Harlow boinked her way to the top in MGM’s Red Headed Woman, Hollywood’s studios were determined not to miss the scheming skank gravy train. In 1933 a parade of unrepentant adulterers, brazen boob-flapping strippers, thieving hookers, and unabashed homosexuals lit up the silver screen in an outpouring that tanked the censor ship*.
Confessions of a Nazi Spy, 1939
Confessions of a Nazi Spy, 1939
Edward G. Robinson was the living embodiment of the saying, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
After his spectacular success as Rico in Little Caesar, Robinson spent lavishly on himself, his family and everybody and anything that needed a chunk of change. In the 1940′s alone he made more than 850 contributions totaling more than a quarter million dollars.
But in 1947, inglorious ex-communist turned “Red” Hunter (and future Confidential Magazine editor and wife slayer) Howard Rushmore, fingered Edward G. Robinson as a fellow “traveler” or commie before the House Un-American Activities Committee. Edward G. Robinson, who had enjoyed almost twenty years at the top in Hollywood, imploded and his career never recovered from the accusations.
(please read my abbreviated bio on Rushmore below.)
The Two Mrs. Carroll's
The Two Mrs. Carrolls, 1947
Directed by Peter Godfrey
Key Largo, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, Dark Passage, Knock on Any Door, Dead Reckoning, The Big Sleep. Bogie was really cranking out the hits for Warners in the late forties. He also managed to sandwich in epic benders and brawls with wifey #3, Mayo Methot; a notorious affair and marriage to teen dream Lauren Bacall; and a few weeks shooting for The Two Mrs. Carrolls’.
Unfairly considered a piece of crap at the time, The Two Mrs. Carrolls’ is worth watching. In The Two Mrs. Carrolls’ Bogie plays a painter that gets to menace, sneer and romance la la Picasso in an uber gothic mansion. Picasso of course, wreaked more havoc than this guy, but no matter.
The Blue Gardenia, original vintage half sheet
The Blue Gardenia, 1953, Directed by Fritz Lang
Based on the short story Gardenia , by Vera Caspary (Laura)
Fritz Lang, the monocle wearing “Master of Darkness” and director of the Steampunk masterpiece * “Metropolis” could also churn out some melodramatic clunkers.
Fritzy is SOOO Steam Punk!
After “fleeing” Berlin with all his moola intact, Fritzy decamped in Paris, then Hollywood in 1936. His first American film “Fury”, instantly cemented his auteur status.
In the years that followed, Lang, more than any other director, influenced the development of film noir style in America. Lang’s dour, depressing, dark depiction of life combined with the sheer volume of flickage set the mode. What set Lang apart from a lot of other dour, dark and depressing German directors was his ability to make his films suspenseful and watchable.
Now, Voyager Dell Romance 99, First Edition
Now, Voyager, Dell Romance 99, first edition
by Olive Higgins Prouty
Cover art by Gerald Gregg
Try this plot on for size: Wealthy woman plagued by tragedy and a controlling mum has nervous breakdown. After graduating from two years of therapy, the woman frees herself from the past and blossoms into a successful adult. She then decides to pass on riches of shrink-dom to a daughter surrogate. Daughter surrogate turns on her and lampoons her in satirical black hole of a autobiographical novel prior to killing herself.
Twisted version of Now, Voyager? Hidden version of Bette Davis’ real life? No, the true story of Olive Higgins Prouty. Author of Now, Voyager. The surrogate? Sylvia Plath. The book? The Bell Jar
Yes, gentle reader sometimes true life has more brackish melodrama than even our eye-popping Ms. Davis in Of Human Bondage could muster. Or, say the edited version of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills on the tuber. . . Well, maybe not.
