Young Bride

This is a moving narrative, sensitively directed by William A. Seiter, about a naive librarian (Helen Twelvetrees) who is swept off her feet and into marriage by a handsome but aggressive, egotistical suitor (Eric Linden) only to find he is all strut and no substance. This early effort by producer David O. Selznick boasts: a) persuasive performances by the five main characters (Arline Judge as a treacherous dance hall tart, Cliff Edwards ["Well, peel my potatoes!" "Well, spank me naked!"] as a good-time Charley and Blanche Frederici as the librarian's spinsterish friend and co-worker give excellent support); b - realistic renderings of a public library, a depressing room in a boarding house, and especially a funky dance hall above a Chop Suey joint where young couples crowd the floor shimmying, fox-trotting or waltzing to the popular songs of the day played to perfection by a small orchestra; (c) entertainingly slangy dialogue and pre-Code sexual frankness. This is one of the few films of its era that speaks directly and unsentimentally across the decades about issues faced by any young couple of modest means struggling to pay the bills while maintaining a loving, trusting relationship. All newlyweds should see this! Others have detailed the plot, but I shall say only that Linden and Twelvetrees were two of the best young performers of their time. Their careers flared brilliantly for about three years, then faded into oblivion. Here, they will both make you cry.

A better than average soaper, complete with a full roster of marital melodramatics, "Young Bride" was meant to be something of a star vehicle for Helen Twelvetrees (her married name, believe it or not), but young and handsome Eric Linden steals the show with his bad-boy good-looks and his bratty attitude.

Capable of better things (as he proved a few years later in the classic filmed play, "Ah Wilderness"), Linden's talent shines through the stiff dialog in "Young Bride" and triumphs over it's tired, and not-unexpected, ending.

Linden's later performance in "Ah Wilderness" seems to be the role he was born to play.

He made a few films of note afterwards, but his roles grew smaller in later years, eventually down to just "bit" parts.

Twelvetrees proves to be a poor leading lady for the dynamic Linden. If you didn't know that she was a bigger name than he was in 1932, and you were seeing this film for the first time, many years after it's release, you would have to wonder why she received top billing.

The supporting cast was sturdy;-- I'm especially fond of the always-stammering Roscoe Ates. He seems to be enjoyable regardless of what film he's in, or how he's cast.

I'm sure David O. Selznick was responsible for the film's polished look. He gave many early RKO films a touch of class-- And not too many people could effectively polish up those city tenements in films like this. (the best example of the "well-staged-slums-for-the-stage" film, in my humble opinion, was Sam Goldwyn's 1937 production of the Broadway hit, "Dead End").

But it's Eric Linden who really makes this film worth a watch.--

Without Linden's "bursting with energy" presence, this would be one tired old soaper. He could even make you believe that poor-boy pool-hall slackers wore suits every day, although not too many could fill out a suit the way Eric Linden did...

This is a fascinating film for all kinds of reasons, not the least of which is showcasing one of the best performances given by Helen Twelvetrees, an actress with a fairly limited range of roles; once her studio discovered she played victimized women with great conviction, poor Helen was stuck in roles usually subservient to insensitive or brutal men.

All the more reason to watch this film, in which her one-note braggart husband, loud and crass Eric Linden, makes continued promises about future riches, about fidelity and business, but ultimately comes to terms of a kind with his now-pregnant wife.

Hundreds of films like this were churned out in the 1930's for women's matinées, and many stars were handed similar roles of beaten-down women--most, like Loretta Young, Barbara Stanwyck, Ruth Chatterson and Kay Francis were able to cope and now and then rise about the situation, but Young Bride is one of the few where Helen learned a thing or two.

This film is pre-code--one can actually see and man and wife in a twin bed together under the covers; two years later and such a scene could no longer be shown in any Hollywood film for over 25 years! There's also a good deal of salty language in some nifty set pieces depicting a dance hall, a chop suey joint, and a dusty library. Add to this several subtle performances by secondary players (Cliff Edwards, later the voice of Jiminy Cricket!) and you have a "weeper" worth your time.

In this story of love among the tenements, the fantasizing Twelvetrees finds the man of her dreams in streetwise Linden, a loudmouthed pool-hall hustler who flaunts his manhood among the local taxi-dancing floozies. When Twelvetrees learns the nature of the man she has married--not too difficult within the confines of their one-room boarding-house domicile--she contemplates suicide. Linden wins some money at pool, but loses it to the mercenary Judge. When Linden attempts to recover the money, he is beaten. His lesson learned, the contrite lad creeps back to his bride a changed man. Early kitchen-sink drama with restrained performances and excellent support.

Caution: ending of film is discussed.

From the moment of Eric Linden's first appearance, overwritten and overacted beyond any hope of later improvement, one wants to stop watching this one, because it's obvious that it's going to be tough going. And it IS a hard film to watch, because the Linden character is such an insufferable blowhard, and you know from the beginning that he's going to just treat her bad, treat her bad, through the whole film. Yes, this is yet another pre-Code story about a beautiful, intelligent woman, played by a attractive, talented actress, who marries an cocky jerk, played by a not-very-attractive, not-very-talented leading man. And Linden's performance is so embarrassingly deficient, with no nuance whatsoever.

The film is worth sticking out, though, because, although the Linden character is crudely written and played, overall it's an interesting film. Blanche Frederici plays 12trees' mentor with subtlety; neither an old crab nor warm and nurturing, a good person with a pragmatic sense of propriety. Cliff Edwards is fine as usual, fun and friendly, but playing a character who is ultimately not very nice, and as an actor up to dealing with that possibility. The script even tries to give the Linden character a good point: on their honeymoon he claims to know a Wall Street big shot, and we're surprised to find that the man does know him and does have some respect for him, if not for his deals. The film has a relatively fluid and pictorial style. The atmosphere at the dance hall is realistic and sleazily stylish. The popular jazz is funky, and the band looks suitably competent and slightly tacky.

Some of the more conscious efforts at cinema style, such as the lights being turned off at the library at closing time, seemingly turning off the lives of the young protagonists, may seem a bit self-conscious today, but they still work well. I particularly liked the closing lines of this scene, with 12trees railing against teaching children fairy tales. After the scene fades, you barely hear her voice continuing in a whisper, `It's wicked, wicked.'

What really makes the film is its unique point of view about depression romance and marriage, and Ms. 12trees' restrained but masterful performance. Neither of these are fully evident until the final scene when everything comes together and the whole film is brought into focus with an unusual clarity.

The film is about a quiet, intelligent woman, a librarian with a natural inner maturity. But because of her inexperience and her fairy-tale concept of romance, she gets her trapped in a marriage to a total washout who's all talk and no substance, and a cheat to boot. Before the honeymoon's over, she's completely aware that she's been had. But she sticks it out as long as she can, until she finally tells him off, spelling his faults out very clearly, with contempt rather than anger dominating her outburst.

Similar films of the period had endings in which the husband never had a comeuppance and in which the wife had to pretend a subservient role. In WEEKEND MARRIAGE, Loretta Young had to lie about her success and ask forgiveness, though it was her husband who was the drunk and the failure. Constance Cummings had to do the same in THE BIG TIMER. Ms. 12trees herself, in NOW I'LL TELL, had to pretend to return to her cheating husband, though at least that was only to ease his dying moments. Occasionally, such as 12trees in MY WOMAN, the wife got to throw off the conceited blowhard and find happiness elsewhere.

But the ending of YOUNG BRIDE is quite different. In the end, Linden sees the error of his behavior and has to beg forgiveness and clearly acknowledge his faults. But what's even more fundamentally different from the other films, almost radical, really, is the spirit in which she accepts him back.

After he pours his heart out on his knees as she sits on the day couch, he finally says, `Everything's all right now, isn't it?' and she answers, without much conviction, `I guess so.' The scene's well written, with him saying all the right things, and she giving quiet, rueful answers about reality versus expectations. He buries his face on her shoulder and the camera comes in on her face. She looks down on him with a touch of affection, and then gives a sad little smile and a sort of a shrug, and the scene fades into the end title. According to convention, everything has worked out for the best, yet as played and written it's the most realistic and sad of endings. Yes, she's taking him back, because she remembers how she first loved him, because she's going to have a baby and she needs a husband in the middle of the depression, because he's so sincere at this point. Yes, maybe things will be better... maybe. But, still, she knows she's just an innocent girl who's married a bum; even if he stays on the straight and narrow, he isn't at all what she hoped for. Her performance in this final scene is so simple, so good, so unaffected. My verbalized interpretation of her little smile is far less sophisticated than the actual performance, which is more subtle, more enigmatic. It conveys feelings that can't be put into words (and perhaps I shouldn't have tried).

This final shot illuminates what the whole film has been working toward. It's a heartbreaking message for a depression audience that came to see true love vindicated. Though the general quality of the production, with some original moments and well drawn characters, is good enough to keep one with it, this is really one of those films where the end justifies its existence.