Zampa di gatto

I really enjoyed this old black and white talkie. At first I didn't recognize Harold Lloyd as Mr. Cobb, a missionary to China coming home to find a wife. There were many twists and turns in Mr. Cobb's attempts to clean up city hall. His methods of making the punishment fit the crime would likely be illegal, but this is not a movie based on reality. This would be a perfect movie for children except that there is female near nudity (pasties only on Grace Bradley)! The old telephones are enchanting. The only fault is a problem typical of the day - Caucasians are used to represent Chinese men. This is offset by the positive way the Chinese are portrayed. They are the wise, good and friendly guys. Trivia - a Bekins truck appears in the movie when the police run out of Black Marias.

This generally enjoyable comedy is unusually satirical for a Harold Lloyd feature, but as long as you don't take it too seriously, it has some very amusing moments. Lloyd's character lets him combine elements of his familiar silent-screen roles plus dialogue and other material that take advantage of the relatively new sound technology. Una Merkel also helps out as a sarcastic young woman who takes an interest in Lloyd's character.

The prologue is a little lengthy, but it works in establishing a positive view of the Chinese culture in which Lloyd's character was raised and which determines his personality, so it serves a purpose. The main part of the movie has Lloyd as Ezekiel, a missionary's son, coming back to the USA and innocently contending against the rampant corruption in the local government and the distorted values of society. Much of it is amusing in a low-key fashion, but eventually it also builds up the tension between Ezekiel and the local political machine.

You always hope for something big in the finale in a Lloyd movie. Here the finale is creative, taking advantage of the possibilities in the story, and making use of sound in addition to the many visual effects. Though slower and not filled with slapstick the way that his great silent film finales were, it caps things off suitably enough.

Like most of Lloyd's sound features, this one doesn't come up to the level of his silent classics. But it does give him a good character to work with, and it is often rather funny as long as you don't read too much into the story and characters.

It has to be admitted that the best work of Harold Lloyd ended with his last great silent comedy "Speedy" in 1928. After that he enters sound films (like Chaplin and Keaton and Laurel & Hardy and W.C. Fields) and does do better than Keaton, but not as well as the other three. Chaplin was rich enough to make his own films as producer (but he paced his films so there were five years between productions). Laurel & Hardy were under the protection of Hal Roach, so production standards for their shorts and sound films were pretty good. Fields first worked with Mack Sennett, than with Paramount, and then free-lanced. Lloyd tried the route that Chaplin took, but with less success.

He produced his own films, but unlike Chaplin he did not own his own studio. Also his first two choices were not good (especially "Feet First"). But he did begin to choose more wisely and "Movie Crazy", "The Cat's-Paw", and "The Milky Way" were all good choices. These three (and possibly "The Sin of Harold Diddlebock") were his best sound ventures. They are all entertaining, but none are up to "Safety Last", "The Freshman", "The Kid Brother", or "Speedy".

Of the top four sound films "The Cat's Paw" is the most controversial. Ezekiel Cobb's solution to ridding the city that elects him mayor is very extreme for the tastes of 2005. Or is it? When a movie is made dictates what it's politics are: "The Cat's Paw" is from 1934. That second year of the Roosevelt New Deal (itself rather controversial for heavier government involvement) movie audiences saw films like "Gabriel Over the White House" and "The Phantom President", where our leaders did extra-Constitutional actions to rid the nation of internal enemies (and to force disarmament around the globe). Even Cecil B. De Mille got into this act with "This Day and Age", where a bunch of teenagers use rats to force a gangster to confess his crimes.

To us, the use of violence to force anyone (even a bunch of goons and boodlers like Alan Dinehart's gang) to confess is repellent. After all, the Supreme Court has protected us from confession under duress. What we forget is that the reforms we are thinking of did not occur until the Warren Court and the Burger Court made them. For example, although Mr. Justice Sutherland's opinion in the Powell ("Scottsboro Boys") Case of 1932 guaranteed every criminal defendant had a right to counsel, Gideon v. Wainwright did not extend this to ordering court paid counsel to defendants until 1962. The Miranda Case, with it's now well-known anti-self-incrimination warning is from 1963. Nothing like this were considered necessary in 1934.

If you study other movies of the period up to 1954 (and even to 1960) tricks are used to get confessions - Kirk Douglas confesses his crimes in front of witnesses in "I Walk Alone" while Burt Lancaster holds a gun to him. When Lancaster leaves, Douglas sneers about confessing under duress, only to see the gun is unloaded. Suddenly he realizes that (legally - in 1948) he has confessed without duress. Hate to say it, to any civil libertarians reading this note, but what Cobb/Lloyd does to Dinehart and his pals in the conclusion of "The Cat's Paw" was not only legal, but would have led to their jail sentences in 1934. We may call it heavy handed, fascistic, or horrid, but it would have worked legally when it was thought up.

Maybe it was because I had heard about how every silent film star failed to make quality sound films but I was caught by surprise that I actually enjoyed this Lloyd vehicle. While definitely not as innovative or captivating as his silent work, The Cat's-Paw proves to be a delight to watch.

Harold Lloyd's character is a good fit for his acting skills and does not seem very far off from the up and coming and somewhat hopeful and naive characters he played in the silent era. I loved the oddity of his character and thought that the running joke of him quoting Ling Po was highly enjoyable, probably because it reminded me of how people always misquote Confucius. The political message is a bit alarming to modern viewers but does not completely overshadow the finale's bizarre yet amusing ending and makes more sense when taken into the context of the times. While not a groundbreaking piece of film, it is still an enjoyable snapshot into Lloyd's career after the advent of sound and the political climate of mid-1930's America.

Returning from 20 years in China, a young missionary refuses to become THE CAT'S-PAW for a gang of hometown hoodlums.

This movie was a bit of a departure from Harold Lloyd's previous movies. Comedy derived more from dialogue, often rather serious, predominates here, rather than the elaborate sight gags which powered Harold's classics of the past. There are some splendid moments, however, which are pure visual fun, as when Harold attempts to follow a convertible down a crowded street, or when he desperately tries to keep a nightclub stripper from losing her clothes. There is also the climactic scene, set in a Chinatown basement, in which Harold gleefully jumps unabashedly into the darkest comedy. But most of the humor derives from Harold's refusal to be the patsy of the criminals who've run his hometown for years.

And it's quite a collection of crooked politicians & thugs Harold finds himself up against, played by a bevy of fine character actors: George Barbier, Nat Pendleton, Grant Mitchell, Edwin Maxwell, Alan Dinehart, Warren Hymer & stuttering Fuzzy Knight. Pert Una Merkel is on hand as the tobacco stand girl who catches Harold's eye and keeps him intrigued by her no-nonsense outlook on life.

Movie mavens will recognize Samuel S. Hinds as Harold's missionary father; Charles Sellon as an elderly Stockport clergyman; and Herman Bing as a German gangster--all uncredited. Also, showing up for only a few seconds as an attempted kidnapper, is Noah Young, a familiar face from Harold's silent films, here making his final appearance in a Lloyd picture.

Fox gave the film fine production values, especially in the opening scenes set in China.