Friends and Lovers

...in this pre-code drama from RKO and director Victor Schertzinger. Adolphe Menjou stars as Army Captain Geoffrey Roberts. He's been having an affair while on leave with married socialite Alva Sangrito (Lili Damita). Her aristocratic husband Victor (Erich von Stroheim) blackmails Capt. Roberts for money in exchange for keeping the scandal quiet. When Roberts returns to active duty at a dangerous outpost, he is happy to see his friend Lt. Ned Nichols (Laurence Olivier), only to later learn that Ned is in love with someone: Alva! The two nearly come to blows over her, but circumstances may make her the least of their worries

This aims for an adult sophistication but often comes across more sensationalist and juvenile. Damita's character is barely more than a prostitute, and she gets a nude shower scene and some lingering dressing scenes. Olivier hasn't found his voice yet (this was made during his initial attempt to become a screen star, and before he became a stage triumph back in England), and von Stroheim alternates from reveling in his sadism to barely trying to get through his lines. Menjou is a smooth charmer, as usual. Fans of the performers should take a look, as well as those who enjoy seeing the pre-code boundaries pushed.

This film gets off to a great, weird, very racy Pre-Code start. In the first couple of minutes we are introduced to an adulterous young wife (Lili Damita) and her slimy, sadistic, blackmailing husband (Erich von Stroheim). You can't take your eyes off von Stroheim; his over-the-top performance is not exactly what you'd call great acting, but it gives the film its only real juice. Once he's—literally—out of the picture, we're left with a static, conventional, and uncompelling love triangle.

Others have already commented on Miss Damita's strengths (beauty and sex appeal) and weaknesses (no real acting ability), which I believe is a fair assessment of her contributions. Despite her physical charms, I found it difficult to believe that men would be driven to extremes of jealousy over her... which seriously undermines the main premise of the story. And when she chooses Adolphe Menjou over Laurence Olivier... well, that's REALLY straining the bounds of credibility!

Speaking of hard to believe, there's Hugh Herbert, making a pathetically inept attempt at a Scottish accent. (He went on to become a repeat offender, once again inflicting his bogus burr as Detective John McTavish in 1934's EASY TO LOVE). Herbert's recurring "business" about the women in his life gets very tiresome very quickly.

The biggest liability in the film is Adolphe Menjou, woefully miscast as the man who wins Damita's heart over all her other lovers, including a very young, very handsome Laurence Olivier. Scrawny, pinch-faced Menjou was over forty at the time (he looks even older); ludicrously, he is repeatedly referred to by various characters as "young man." It's obvious that the part was written for a younger, sexier actor. Had they cast someone more appropriate, the story would have had a lot more sizzle.

Though I rated the film only four stars, I'd recommend it to die-hard film buffs. Besides von Stroheim's memorable characterization, it's got a nuanced performance by the young Olivier, the lovely Miss Damita (and her equally lovely wardrobe), and some appealingly quirky scenes and performances. It's not great art, but it's good entertainment.

Though I don't rate Friends and Lovers (1931) high based on my harsh rating scale, I give credit where it is due. Friends and Lovers is a perfect example of how I feel films should have been made in the early 30s---condensed. (This comment/review, however, will not be.) The film, including titles, is 68 minutes long, yet it tells an engaging cohesive story with several locations, people, costumes, events, passage of time and action without weighing it down with the fluff that movies were full of during that period. By fluff I include but am not limited to: extended reaction shots, excessive beauty shots, far off stares (see Greta's films), eyebrow movement shots (see Norma's films), mouth and lips parting shots (see Irene's films), unnecessary walking, unrelated dialog extending screen time for the stars, etc. Yes, this movie does have a few gratuitous fluffs but it doesn't tack on an entire hour showing them. The movie doesn't feel "glossy"; instead, somehow, it feels real.

The studio was unstable bankrupt great depression era Selznick helmed RKO. Director Victor Schertzinger, who had been in film since the first moving frame, pulled poignant performances from his cast and provided the music. DP J. Roy Hunt strapped to RKO through all of its phases provided believable lighting for B/W film through many types of scenes both indoors and out, as well as smooth camera movement and action. Adolphe Menjou survived the silent years to give a decent performance as obsessed, possessed, ardently pining Geoff, Larry Olivier makes his stiff and subtle Hollywood debut in a fair size role as Ned, Lili Damita also from the silent era wasn't a blazing beauty or brilliant actress but she did her part allowing her accent and body to do the rest as Alva, Erich Von Stroheim though a little cheesy made being a sadistic and evil porcelain collector seem lucrative and fun as Victor, and Hugh Herbert as McNellis, trying not to trip over his on and off again accent, bounced through the film offering humor here and there to keep the viewer's emotions connected.

Film making is all about taking the viewer in, cold from the street with their own world in their mind, connecting with their emotions and transporting them to another place and time, taking them on an emotional roller coaster ride until the film is through. If at any time the coaster slows or stops, the viewer has time to realize themselves again, even if only subconsciously, and the film has lost them. If picked up again, the viewer must start over emotionally with the story. Condensing this film down to 68 minutes keeps the viewer's attention the entire time. The overall ride may be short, the sets may be cheap, the acting may not be the best, the plot may be thin, the music may be shallow, the dialog may be simple, but tell a story that efficiently and the viewer doesn't notice while watching. Should the viewer notice, it's not considered long because the next sequence is already speeding along with fresh new things for the brain to process. Plot of the film is simple on the surface though it has a few morality testing twists and turns. For what they had to work with, the plot was kept clean and cohesive, the shots were tight, the camera action was appropriate, the cinematography and lighting was believable, the sets weren't spectacular but scenes didn't last long enough to pick them apart, the tension was there, the emotion was heavy, the beauty was shown, the dialog was believable and the actors sizzled.

So much happens at a comfortable pace that I never once got bored or thought about anything else other than the film. I ignored a ringing phone. I ignored portable electronics. The film was paced so well that I didn't want to look away. I was completely surprised by how enjoyable the film was to watch, unlike so many pre-code early 30s films I have suffered through. (I'm an elitist film snob, so I will watch a terrible film just so I can say w/o any doubt I hated it.) If there is so much fluff in a film that I sit there and start counting how many steps the actress is making across every single room, on every single street, up every single stair and then start counting their stares, far off looks, exaggerated baby spot lit soft shots, and on top of it listen to senseless dialog that does nothing to forward the plot but included just so that the actress/actor is getting a certain percentage of screen time, I feel I'd rather have a root canal without anesthetic rather than sit through the rest of the film. For me to sit through an entire early 30s film without moving or thinking of anything else means the film is very special in some way.

In retrospect, I wonder: the novelty of the talking pictures was new, but it does make me wonder if viewers really loved the long lingering shots of the starlets or if they tolerated them. Did they expect them because they were paying money to be visually entertained? Does length equal value? According to rumor, the film lost $260k at the box office, though IMDBpro, AFI, or BFI don't offer any budget or salary info. Perhaps Friends and Lovers was shot with the same early 30s heavy fluff monkey on its back but given to a gifted editor that said NO to fluff. Regardless, this is a very rare 68 minutes that I was happy watching a pre-code film, and for anyone like me who barely tolerates movies of the early 30s because of the unnecessary fluff, give this one a watch. It's not the best film in the world, but 68 minutes isn't long in comparison to 2 hours of Norma's eyebrows going up and down.

This is the sort of film that got RKO Radio studios into financial trouble. It has a great cast: Damita, von Stroheim, Menjou, Olivier. The plot is predictable, and the story threadbare. I doubt if there were many more people in the 1930s who were turned on by this kind of melodrama as there are now.

A porcelain collector uses his younger wife to ensnare rich army officers, so that he can blackmail them. Two officers, serving in the British army in India, find out that they are both in love with this same woman. That is the plot in a nutshell. The saving feature of this film it to witness some pretty good acting performances. Apart from Hugh Herbert, whose Scottish accent slips like a postman in the snow and sounds about as authentic as the MacFarterchops tartan, the rest of the cast turn in some pretty good performances. Von Stroheim's performance is weird; but then again he is playing a weirdo. Menjou turns in a competent performance - as he always does. Olivier is subtle: you have to watch him carefully to fully appreciate what he does. The same can be said for Damita. Yes, it's great to have a sophisticated leading lady who doesn't mind getting her kit off; but watch her performance next to Olivier in the dining table scene. Further down the cast, the pair who play the general and his sister turn in good performances, too.

The performances of the cast rescue this film, which is of its time. It is watchable.

The FRIENDS AND LOVERS of a duplicitous female nearly have their lives destroyed by her wicked ways.

This well-acted piece of fluff makes no attempt at serious entertainment but manages to engage the viewer nonetheless, mainly because of its unique cast.

Lily Damita plays the sultry vamp who has no difficulty in enticing every man she meets. She is the female star of the picture, but her character is completely detestable. It says nothing positive about the moral discernment or intelligence level of the lead male players in the film that they are so completely seduced, for a time.

Adolphe Menjou and Laurence Olivier play the two British officers, firm friends, who both fall into Damita's web. Making no pretense at behaving British, Menjou plays the debonair captain who must decide between carnality & comradeship. Olivier, who looks astonishingly young (he turned 24 in 1931) is bright & energetic, projecting shadows of the future Lord Olivier as he advises Menjou as to the proper cut of tailored lapels.

Whimsical Hugh Herbert puts his gentle humor to good use as Menjou's Scots valet. Acting as a sort of Greek Chorus to the proceedings around him, he easily steals most of his scenes. Erich von Stroheim, that Teutonic master of menace, dominates the screen with a cunning portrayal of Damita's vile husband. Like an uncoiled snake ready to strike, von Stroheim slithers about the screen, alert to deliver the maximum discomfort to his victims. As always, he is a joy to watch. Alas, that his role is so brief.

Frederick Kerr as a boisterous old general, and Blanche Frederici as his straitlaced titled sister provide a few moments of sparkle at the end of the film.

The action during the scenes set in India takes place entirely within the walls of a rather dull fort. The Studio, Radio Pictures, apparently were unwilling to spend an extra dime on ambiance.