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King Vidor's film adaptation of Edgar Rice's Pulitzer Prize winning play about the denizens of a tenement on New York's West Side is a gracefully crafted well paced story balanced by an abundance of humor and sadness. As lives intersect in front of the stoop we are presented a cross section of the great melting pot with accents and biases in place arguing politics, dispensing philosophy, bragging, fueling stereotypes ,gossiping and complaining about the heat.

In less skillful and ambitious hands Street Scene might have made for a more than passable filmed stage play by working in the confines of a studio sound stage but Vidor takes it to the streets in more than one scene giving the film a more gritty and realistic feel as well as using the expanse for symbolic purpose. He also eschews back projection by cleverly erecting a set off of an actual city street to provide realistic backdrop. His camera movement is breathtaking and powerful without being self indulgent as his signature crane shots unveil the neighborhood to establish time place and elevate drama. Working in a limited space he keeps things fresh and energized by changing angles and using natural transition by tracking characters into other conversations. His languorous but deliberate pace befitting a summer in the city heat wave that leads up to the stunningly edited climactic scene is perfectly measured for maximum effect. Alfred Newman's score as well as the ambient music of children playing and singing in two separate scenes of dark irony seamlessly contribute to the films mood. While a general gloominess pervades and bigotries are ungoverned the stoop is the scene of great joy and humor much of it dark.

The cast of various ethnic types run from comic to ugly as they freely spout superstitions, bravado, rumor, bigotry and revolution. Some have dreams but most are filled with cynicism. Beulah Bondi as busy body Emma Jones is a sidewalk Cassandra with nothing good to say about anything or anyone. Sad eyed Sylvia Sidney gives a heartfelt performance as the daughter in the tragic Maurant family. Pulled from all sides she struggles to keep her family together while fending off the the seduction efforts of her boss who dangles a place of her own in front of her.

Street Scene is a microcosm in part of the immigrant experience in America during the first half of the last century and though some of the characterizations may be broad it retains an important historical significance. But it is King Vidor's master class( greatly assisted by the lensing of Barnes and Toland) in cinema grammar that awes and makes Street Scene a superb work of the early sound era.

King Vidor's Street Scene, from the infancy of the sound era, may be cinema's quintessential slice of life. Drawn from the 1929 Pulitzer Prize-winning drama by Elmer Rice – so many movies from the earliest 1930s were little more than filmed stage plays – Street Scene surmounts the limitations of its time and its material to achieve the status of a minor milestone in movie history. It's dated, occasionally clumsy, but unforgettable.

Street Scene's microcosm is a brownstone in a Manhattan tenement block during a scorching heat wave. The residents, in their various comings and goings, loiter on its front stoop to catch a stray zephyr and exchange some gossip. The gossip-in-chief is Beulah Bondi, a dried-up streel griping that she doesn't have a `dry stitch' on her (Vidor permits himself a cheeky shot of her, shot from below and behind, when she furtively unsticks her house dress from her, well, person).

Incidental players include a henpecked young husband whose wife is about to go into labor; an elderly Jew spouting socialist rant; his son, a non-violent college man with a crush on a gentile girl; cheerful Italians and dour Scandinavians; pinched and bitter social workers; gasbags, mashers and inebriates.

After reviling the weather with immemorial cliches, the characters turn wickedly to their chief topic: the milkman's suspicious visits to a married woman upstairs. (Her daughter, the central character in the drama -- Sylvia Sidney -- makes a later entrance but will ring down the curtain.) Meanwhile, the characters carry on city life in a rough-and-tumble of casually aimed racist barbs, sanctimonious judgementalism, and general acceptance of the notion that one's neighbors' lives are the reality television of the day, to be viewed with gusto. The potent cocktail of slander and humidity will have fatal results.

Vidor employs his talents adroitly. The movie's first `act' stays stubbornly crouched on that stoop, but gradually Vidor opens up his stage in a series of tilts and pans so that the brownstone becomes but one cell in a bustling urban organism. (Technically, it's precocious, and the story's dramatic `climax' arrives in a montage that may elicit smiles but still remains impressive.) Surviving current attitudes about political correctness and convincing `realism' (that most elusive of artifices), Street Scene endures as haunting, human experiment – among the finest of the first `talkies.'

Note: Rice's play was later to become the libretto to Kurt Weill's Broadway `opera' Street Scene.

Even though this is a filmed version of a stage play, it never seems like a "filmed play," thanks to the fluid camera work and the excellent direction of King Vidor. The film is vibrant throughout and, at about an hour and 18 minutes, for me wasn't long enough. It never seems quaint or clunky, the way a lot of movies from this era do. Sylvia Sidney is the best known person in the cast but there are a few familiar faces among the supporting cast, such as Beulah Bondi and John Qualen. All are excellent. Highly recommended for the serious viewer interested in seeing filmed American literature.

STREET SCENE (United Artists, 1931), produced by Samuel Goldwyn, directed by King Vidor, is a remarkable film in many ways. This screen adaptation to Elmer Rice's Pulitzer Prize winning 1929 stage play, realistically focuses on a group of people of different ethnic backgrounds who gather together on the front steps of their tenement brownstone apartment building on the west side of Manhattan during a summer heat wave in mid July.

The plot, set during a 24 hour period, takes a look on various residents before centering its attention on the Maurrant family. Anna Maurrant (Estelle Taylor), a housewife and mother, has become so bored with her present existence that she carries on an affair with a married man, Steve Sankey (Russell Hopton) while her stern and unsentimental husband, Frank (David Landau) heads off for work. This illicit affair is known by many, thanks to the neighborhood gossip, Emma Jones (Beulah Bondi). Regardless of their knowledge, Frank does have his suspicions, as does their grown daughter, Rose (Sylvia Sidney). Rose is a working girl loved by Sam Kaplan (William Collier Jr.), a Jewish law student living in the same building. Like Rose, Sam longs on moving away to a better life. Although he has strong ambitions, his weakness is being a coward, especially when constantly bullied by Vincent (Matt McHugh), a heavy-set "Momma's Boy." After about an hour or so of realistic dialog, the street scene, as the title indicates, occurs when Frank Maurrant returns home unexpectedly to find the shades of his bedroom window being pulled down.

Light on action, STREET SCENE moves along very swiftly through numerous camera angles. Aside from its plot development of numerous characters, every one of them, down to the last extra, makes his presence count. With the storyline being limited to only the front portion of the building, the inside of the apartment is never shown. Vidor does break away from his limitations in giving the avid movie viewer a eye-view of Manhattan of 1931, ranging from the elevated train, a glimpse of the Chrysler Building and other tenement buildings. The opening sequence, underscored by Alfred Newman's now classic "New York City Theme," is priceless, ranging from children cooling themselves off from the summer heat as they get splashed on with water from a hose connected to a fire hydrant; an alley cat licking a block of ice; a family dog stretched out on the sidewalk to cool off; and a brief look at those now antique fans. The second act of the story, which takes place the following morning, goes a bit further with local boys picking up stacks of newspapers to be delivered; and a man waking up from a good night's sleep on the fire escape, and heading back in his apartment carrying his pillow and sheets through his open window, among others. There is also a noted scene in which Willie (Lambert Rogers), the younger member of the Maurrant family, skating down the street, pausing, yelling up the window to his mother to throw him a dime to buy an ice cream cone. The dime is then wrapped in tissue paper and rubber band and tossed directly to him. Those who recall such childhood memories of New York will definitely relate to these little detailed scenes. Some things, though, never change, notably how a quiet street stirs up a huge crowd whenever an incident occurs as expertly depicted in this photo-play.

Seen in the supporting cast are Greta Grandtedt, Max Mantor, John Qualen, George Humbert, Allan Fox, and Marcia Mae Jones, recognizable in her small role as Mary Hildebrand, one of the neighborhood children. In fact, many of the supporting players appearing in STREET SCENE reprized their roles from the stage version, especially that of Beulah Bondi, making her screen debut. Always an excellent performer, her nasty character nearly steals the film. Sylvia Sidney, with few movie credits to her name at the time, and a native New Yorker, makes a lasting impression with her role as Rose.

STREET SCENE is an excellent theme in storytelling that never lets go of its audience. In spite of its age, it's still timely. One element that shows King Vidor's style of sending out his messages to his viewers without the use of dialog is the use of closeups and facial expressions on several people. They don't say anything, but what they're thinking is passed across its audience. These and many other scenes are what makes STREET SCENE so remarkable, even today. Instances such as those depicted are those that could happen anytime, anywhere, not only in New York, but a movie such as this cannot be remade today or ever without the same impact as it did back in 1931. It's a wonder why STREET SCENE did not earn a single Academy Award nomination.

STREET SCENE, available on video and DVD, had been distributed by numerous public domain companies using reissue prints that substitute Samuel Goldwyn's opening with Associate Artists Productions Presents. Other than its occasional TV showings that have turned up on local public broadcasting stations after the midnight hours, STREET SCENE, occasionally plays Turner Classic Movies. Contrary to its host Robert Osborne in saying in his analysis of STREET SCENE making its TCM premiere on the evening of June 30, 2002, at 8 p.m., someone at the program department failed to indicate to him of its earlier air-date, June 6, 2002, at 7:30 a.m. Regardless, thanks to TCM for ever presenting this rare find, due to it being one of the very few from the early 1930s, that can still be seen and appreciated over and over again. (****)

This is my favorite Hollywood movie of the thirties, and it's hard to tell why. It has a radiance that no other movie has. It's filmed theater, but somehow more alive than real life. It takes ordinary life and challenges us to see the beauty in it, or even the ugliness, anything rather than nothing. It depicts a sordid life, but isn't all life sordid? All actors are wonderful, especially Bondi and Sydney. The camera work is a dream. It makes you love people. Cheap theatrics are deftly avoided. This is art. It makes a symphony of cacophony.