Page Miss Glory

Pat O'Brien once said, "I don't just want to be a fast-talking Charlie all my life." That's exactly what he is in "Page Miss Glory"--a flimflam man who is always looking for an angle. As Click Wiley, he pairs up with Eddie Olson (Frank McHugh), a photographer whose lens is in hock. They are about to be ejected from the hotel where they have been squatting when a new scheme falls into their laps.

Marion Davies plays a naive rube (Loretta) who comes to New York City. Her search for the perfect guy mostly centers around celebrity crushes, like the daring self-promoting stunt pilot, Bingo Nelson (Dick Powell). Davies' performance is the highlight of the film, but it is worth seeing the film just for the bevy of talented supporting actors.

This light-weight comedy clocks in at 93 minutes, and it feels like an adaptation of a play (which it is), but its screwball story serves up plenty of fun and feels like a cultural artifact from the mid- thirties.

After William Randolph Hearst took his Cosmopolitan Pictures off the MGM lot and onto Warner Brothers, Marion Davies for her first film was given the title role in Page Miss Glory. The film is based on a Broadway play that ran only 63 performances during the 1934-1935 season.

Press Agents Pat O'Brien and Frank McHugh concoct a phony beauty by taking facial features from several known movie stars to create the perfect American beauty. When asked to produce her, our intrepid duo is stuck, but when hotel chambermaid Marion Davies comes in to make up the room, it seems like a prayer has been answered.

O'Brien and McHugh are playing roles that they've both done dozens of times alone and together at Warner Brothers in the Thirties. I think Pat O'Brien pulled more cinematic cons than any other player on record. Davies has some very funny moments and I know she wished she could have done more films like this one.

Dick Powell plays a Charles Lindbergh like aviator with a nice tenor voice who sings the song Harry Warren and Al Dubin wrote for the film Page Miss Glory. It's done during a dream sequence when Davies still thinking like a chambermaid, imagines herself being swept up romantically by Powell.

Page Miss Glory is one of Marion Davies better sound features and still worth seeing today.

Like "Front Page Woman," this is a comedy I'd never heard of and only discovered because of TCM. Fast paced dialogue played with relentless Looney Tunes energy make this a sharp spoof of media manipulation and public gullibility that holds up well nearly 70 years later. Marion Davies inhabits her slow witted small town girl thrust into the limelight. Dick Powell parodies himself as the Hero of the Air who falls in love with her picture and proposes before they've ever met. Pat O'Brien and Frank McHugh share a wonderful rapport as the con artists behind it all. Only Mary Astor seems wasted as she has little to do though she does it with elan. Treads similar territory to `Nothing Sacred' or more recent offerings like `Simone' and `Wag the Dog.' Highly recommended.

One of Hollywood's persistent myths is that Marion Davies was a dismal actress who received starring roles only because her longtime lover was Charles Randolph Hearst. Page Miss Glory disproves that notion. She was an adroit comedienne -- and here, she breathes life into a screwball plot that would have been pretty lame without her. She's a naive newcomer to New York working as a chambermaid at a hotel where con artists Pat O'Brien and Frank McHugh haven't paid the tab for a month. How they turn her into the mythical temptress, Dawn Glory, and her romance with flier Dick Powell -- who's just as delightfully dopey as she is -- take up most of the film. You can probably chalk up the negative comments about Miss Davies to Orson Welles' "Citizen Kane" in which Dorothy Commingore played Kane's mistress, a Davies-like actress known for her wooden performances. But catch "Page Miss Glory" -- or any one of several other movies she made before she quit the screen to look after Hearst -- and you'll discover just how much fun she was.

PAGE MISS GLORY (Warner Brothers, 1935), a Cosmopolitan production directed by Mervyn LeRoy, stars Marion Davies, formerly of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, making her Warner Brothers debut. PAGE MISS GLORY may not be the greatest comedy ever made, but much better than the four feature films that were to follow in general. What makes PAGE MISS GLORY succeed is its presence of the studio's own huge assortment of stock players, especially the third-billed crooner by the name of Dick Powel, having a very busy year for himself with six movie releases for 1935 alone.

Plot summary: Loretta (Marion Davies) is a country girl from Red Hook arriving in New York City's busy Grand Central train terminal where, after given some guidance from Mr. Kimball (Harry Beresford), a traveler's aide, and only $27 to her name, comes to the Park Regis Hotel where she interviews herself to Mr. Yates (Berton Churchill), the assistant hotel manager, for a job. Loretta becomes the hotel's chambermaid and teams with Betty (Patsy Kelly) cleaning rooms and assisting guests. Her first good deed goes to Chick Wiley (Pat O'Brien), a promoter, and Ed Olsen (Frank McHugh), his assistant, of Room 1762, down on their luck and four weeks behind their bill. Believing they are hungry, Loretta offers them a rejected meal from one of the other guests which turns out to be dog food. Gladys (Mary Astor), a hard-working secretary and Ed's love interest, tries her best to assist in their lack of creativity to get themselves back into business. Upon reading a full page ad in a magazine for the submission of a photograph for the most beautiful girl in the world, Ed schemes up a publicity stunt by sending a composite photo of a fictional girl he names "Dawn Glory" in hope of winning the $2500 grand prize. Much to everyone's surprise, Chick wins, but is unable to produce the girl he's promoting to Slattery Hawkshaw (Lyle Talbot), a reporter for the Express insisting on an interview with Chick's Wonder Girl. It is only when Loretta, after beautifying herself at the beauty parlor, puts on the Miss Glory Silhouette Dress does the homely chambermaid become the new American Beauty. As fate would have it, Loretta, known to all as Miss Glory, is proposed marriage by Bingo Nelson (Dick Powell) over the radio only after having seen her photograph but never met her personally (except earlier at the hotel as a chambermaid). Though Loretta is madly in love with Bingo, her life gets a turnaround when she's abducted by hired thugs, Petey (Allen Jenkins) and Blackie (Barton MacLane), out for some ransom money.

Also in the large assortment of Warners stock players are Joseph Cawthorn and Al Shean playing a couple of heavily accented rival businessmen; Lionel Stander (Nick, a Russian accented wrestler employed in the hotel baggage room); Hobart Cavanaugh (Kimball); and in smaller roles, Helen Lowell, E.E. Clive, Gavin Gordon, Irving Bacon and Jonathan Hale. Very much a straightforward comedy, the title song of "Page Miss Glory" (by Al Dubin and Harry Warren) is first heard briefly by an uncredited vocalist at a night club before Miss Glory has her daydreaming fantasy moment staring directly into the picture frame of Bingo (Powell) to come to life and sing the song directly to her.

Though PAGE MISS GLORY gets off to a great start, it grows tiresome by the time it reaches its 93 minute conclusion. As usual, the cast does its best in what they do, namely Pat O'Brien as a scheming promoter; Dick Powell appearing in pilot's uniform throughout the story; the serious-minded Mary Astor, among the many others in this all-star cast. In conclusion, PAGE MISS GLORY very much belongs to Marion Davies alone. She's has some very fine moments, especially during the first half of the story during her amusingly fish-out-of-water hillbilly type in the big city to unexpectedly become an American Beauty.

Never distributed to home video, PAGE MISS GLORY had its moments of glory when first broadcast on Turner Network Television (1989) before becoming a more permanent fixture on Turner Classic Movies cable channel. (***)