The Prodigal

"The Prodigal" is a movie that suffers from two major problems. The first is technical, as the movie has rather poor sound...which a problem since it features the opera singer, Lawrence Tibbet, and it doesn't show off his skills well at all. The problem is common in films made up to about 1932, as sonud technology wasn't great and the resulting sound was weak and tinny. The second is a product of the times in which it was made...and that's the antics of Steppin Fetchit and a very problematic musical number called 'chitlins'. When seen with modern sensibilities, they both make you cringe and I am not in any way apologizing for the racist depictions in the film. It's the way it was...though I am loathe to say the problematic scenes should be excised or the film censored. Instead....just watch it and hold on tight!

The story is about Jeffrey Farraday, a man who comes from a very wealthy Southern family...but has chosen, instead, to be a hobo! After five years of hobodom, Jeff is returning home for a brief visit....and it immediately becomes apparent why he left. His family are mostly a lot of stuck-up and stuffy jerks. The only saving graces among them are Jeff's mom and sister-in-law, Antonia. As for Antonia, however, she's miserable...as her marriage is loveless...and having Jeff visit is a breath of fresh air. So what's next for this dysfuctional family?

The saving grace in the film is Lawrence Tibbet. Although he only made a half dozen movies (at least one of which has been lost over time), he's excellent here in a singing and comedic role. His voice really is lovely...not so much operatic but powerful and pretty amazing...and I wish the recording was better.

So is it worth seeing? Well, it all depends on you. If you are a very politically correct sort who would rather die than see Steppin Fetchit and racist depictions in films, skip it by all means. But if you can look at the film in its historical context, you may find it's still pretty watchable.

By the way, the ending is about as indicative of the morality of the Pre-Code films than just about any I've seen. Watch the picture...you'll see what I mean.

Five years after he had to hot-tail it out of town, Lawrence Tibbet returns with fellow tramps Roland Young and Cliff Edwards. He sings some songs, terrifies Stepin Fetchit and charms the children and Esther Ralston (Yowza!) and worries the men, who fear for their women-folk.

It looks like an attempt to do for Tibbet what The Champ did for Wallace Beery, but Harry Pollard ain't King Vidor. Once Tibbet gets a bath, everyone is clean and neat, especially the darkies down at the meeting house in the swamp who sing about chitlins. Except Roland Young. Of course, I love Young from the late 1930s, but it's nice to see he could do more, as here.

Some wonderful singing by Lawrence Tibbett saves The Prodigal from total oblivion. As it is it's a film not likely to be remade in this day and age or the future because of some really bad portrayals of southern blacks as happy contented darkies. In this film Tibbett plays the title role, a prodigal son returned home to his southern gentry family where it looks like they haven't heard the bad news from Appomattox.

Anyway Tibbett who's been on the road with pals Roland Young and Cliff Edwards returns home to the old plantation presided over by Emma Dunn and her two children Hedda Hopper and Purnell Pratt. Pratt's a dull witted lummox of a man who doesn't know that his wife Esther Ralston is running away with his friend Theodore Von Eltz.

Anyway Tibbett arrives and unsettles a whole lot. He also gets to sing Life Is A Dream and Without A Song and snatches of other numbers and a song with the field hands who are referred to as 'pickaninnies'. That's the reason The Prodigal didn't get many viewings after the 60s.

Besides Tibbett's singing I have to give some kudos to Roland Young playing a droll cashiered former English army surgeon who has some interesting observations to make.

Still The Prodigal will not find favor with many.

"The Prodigal" appears to be assembled from leftover script ideas from other films. It opens with some pretty good scenes of the lives of tramps in the early Depression years. Soon it focusses on Jeff Farraday, one of the tramps who actually comes from a wealthy Southern plantation family. Jeff has been exiled from the family, served time in jail, and is detested by his brother Rodman and sister Christine. The Farraday family seems to be withstanding the Depression quite well. Jeff returns to the plantation with a couple of other bums, is welcomed by his adoring mother, scorned by his siblings, and falls in love with the charming and perky Antonia, the wife of his brother Rodman. Rodman, of course, is a cruel, bullying stuffed shirt who hates Antonia but won't give her a divorce.

The film veers from melodramatic family conflict to awkward love scenes to thoroughly unfunny comedy to incongruous musical numbers. Jeff is played by opera-singer Lawrence Tibbett who frequently breaks into song. Tibbett can really sing but he can't act, nor can any of the other characters in this mishmash. But then with lines like these, it would be impossible for any actor to seem anything other than ridiculous.

Not to be overlooked are the really horrible portrayals of the blacks on the plantation. Even for the time (when Aunt Jemima type characters are standard), these racist portrayals are extreme. One farmhand is a whining, sniveling wimp; other scenes involving the darkies' BBQ make a viewer want to crawl under the table.

Falling in love with your brother's wife is a good starter. There's plenty of tension between the brothers. Their mother is in between but obviously sees the failings of the successful, stay at home, brother. His wife is bored as her husband fails to think of her...Lawrence Tibbitt gets to sing, and he's as good an actor as most opera stars(not very).

This reviewer was glad to her his voice. The justly criticized scenes with stereotyped darkies are as bad as you'll ever see, but Steppin Fetchet answered critics of his portrayals with the remark that he "laughed all the way to the bank."

I am pretty far to the left, but I judge art as a product of its time. The singing and dancing of African-Americans in this film was joyful and artful, though admittedly stereo-typed. It was not embarrassing.