Fifty Years of Film in 50 Weeks, #30: Champagne for Caesar, 1950

This post is my contribution to the Classic Movie Blog Association's Fall Blogathon, "Laughter is the Best Medicine." Go here to find your next classic comedy from the picks shared by the best in the classic film blog community. 

Gwen Bottomley: "Happy Hogan really is interested in the piano! I'd like to continue what we started...with the piano."

Beauregard Bottomley: "Gwen, my dear, you are unwise in the ways of the world. This insidious instigator of infamy stands poised at my vitals with a knife of treachery!"

Champagne for Caesar, 1950 

Director: Richard Whorf
Writers: Story and screenplay by Hans Jacoby and Frederick Brady
Cinematographer: Paul Ivano
Producer: Harry M. Popkin for Cardinal Pictures
Starring: Ronald Colman, Celeste Holm, Vincent Price, Barbara Britton, Art Linkletter

Why I chose it
Vincent Price in a comedy? Price is such a unique film star, now remembered primarily for schlocky horror. Whenever I have a chance to see Price earlier in his career pre-typecasting, I jump at it. The premise of this one, culture vs. education vs. corporate America in the 1950s as seen through the lens of TV quiz show shenanigans, intrigued me.

'No-spoiler' plot overview 
It's 1950 and radio and TV quiz shows are sweeping the nation. Unemployed scholar, egghead, and renaissance man Beauregard Bottomley (Ronald Colman) finds himself the center of attention as the persistent star of "Masquerade for Money" quiz show, hosted by "Happy" Hogan (Art Linkletter) and sponsored by Milady Soap Company. The chief executive of Milady Soap is Burnbridge Waters (Vincent Price) a shallow despotic clown of a man who prompted Bottomley's long run on the quiz show because he refused to hire him. Bottomley's game is to win enough to buy Milady and usher Waters into an early retirement. For his part, Waters deploys his secret weapons: "Flame" O'Neil (Celeste Holm) who romances our hero while attempting to uncover a gap in his prolific knowledge, and "Happy" Hogan himself, who seeks the same information while romancing Bottomley's sister, Gwen (Barbara Britton). All the while, Bottomley's cynical pet parrot Caesar comments on the proceedings mainly by demanding "let's get loaded!"

Production Background

Harry Popkin was head of Cardinal Studios that he managed with his brother Leo. He produced a few interesting films in the late 1940s and early 1950s, most notably the cult noir D.O.A. with Edmond O'Brien. In 1949 he assembled a strong team of actors, headlined by former romantic leading man Ronald Colman, whose cultivated English accent set him up perfectly to play an erudite but lonely bachelor. In a 1990 interview, Vincent Price mentioned how thrilled he was to work with "Ronnie" Colman, one of his favorite actors, whom he studied to hone his craft in front of the camera. Cast as quiz show host was Art Linkletter, who went on to have a great career in radio and TV but never had as big of a role in film. 

Linkletter later described how all the actors made a deal with Popkin to take (smallish) flat fee in exchange for a share in the 'net' -- and then later they never got their 'net'. When driving down the Popkin's street, Linkletter apparently looked up at the house and said "we're co-owners!" Even Colman, according to his daughter, would shake his fist at Popkin's house and say "that's where that son-of-a-bitch Harry Popkin with all my money used to live!"

In a case of life imitating art, a few years after the film, Price himself was a guest on an episode of "The $64,000 Question" that focused on fine art. Price was an art expert, and somewhat of a collector, like his opponent on the show, Edward G. Robinson. Price was embroiled in controversy when he may have manipulated an answer during a key showdown on the show.

The film was the second-to-last film appearance, as a member of the quiz show's studio audience, of bit player Jean Spangler, who made headlines for her mysterious disapperance in October 1949. She was never found; only her tattered purse was recovered in a park, containing a note to "Kirk", whom some think was Kirk Douglas. The case remains sadly unsolved. 

Some other notable film-related events in 1950 (from Filmsite.org):

• Hollywood began to develop ways to counteract free television's gains by the increasing use of color, and by introducing wide-screen films (i.e., CinemaScope, Techniscope, Cinerama, VistaVision, etc.) and gimmicks (i.e., 3-D viewing with cardboard glasses, Smell-O-Vision, etc.).
• John Howard Lawson and Dalton Trumbo were imprisoned and the eight remaining members of the Hollywood Ten were convicted of contempt of Congress.
• Japanese director Akira Kurosawa released Rashomon (1950, Jp.), a crime mystery about a man's murder and the rape of his wife. It was the first Akira Kurosawa film to be nominated for an Oscar (Best Art Direction-Set Decoration, Black-and-White). The tale was told through the subjective recollections and perspective of four different characters - a template called the "Rashomon Effect" that has been reproduced many times henceforth. 
• Studio control of stars further eroded when James Stewart signed a precedent-setting independent (or free-lance) contract to share in the box-office profits of the Anthony Mann western Winchester '73 (1950), and for the film version of the stage comedy Harvey (1950). The first-ever back-end deal was negotiated by legendary agent Lew Wasserman. In fact, for all of Stewart's Universal Studios films (including Bend of the River (1952), and The Far Country (1954)), he took no salary in exchange for a large cut of the gross profits -- which turned out to be a very lucrative deal. 
• Producer George Pal's Destination Moon (1950) was one of the first science-fiction films to take a serious look at space exploration, with its attempt to provide accurate details about space travel.

My Random Observations

• Vincent Price, man. I'm not sure what I expected of him, but he over-delivered. His "Burnbridge Waters" was at once loathsome, hysterical, and sympathetic. His first scene ratcheted up the farce by ten, as the camera zoomed in on his rigid frame, in stop-motion at a large executive desk, with his henchman looking worriedly on. It turns out that Waters often falls into trances with no warning: "He's on another plane," whispered his associate, with a note of awe. Throughout the film Price's broad style was perfectly executed - this from someone who is not a particular fan of broad comedy. I missed him when he wasn't on screen. 

Bottomley first meets Waters in one of his "higher-plane" trances.

Waters reacts to Bottomley answering a difficult quiz question
right, again.

• If nothing else, this movie provides a perfect time capsule of mid-20th-century popular entertainments, especially the nascent ones. You've got radio, TV, quiz shows, and, so as not to leave out the film industry, drive-in movies. Today, as we marvel at the latest smart technology or gasp to see citizens taking joy-rides into space, it was fun to relive the wonder and excitement of the burgeoning technologies we take for granted today, even if the film poked fun at our obsession with them. And, as some critics have pointed out, the film was prescient in portraying how quiz shows can manipulate their audiences in variety of ways; the "Twenty-One" scandal was only a few years away.

Early quiz show (with Gordon Nelson) features obscure science
factoids and doesn't go over well with audiences. 

Goofy quiz shows catch on, however. Here is "Happy" Hogan
(Linkletter) with a contestant dressed as Cleopatra.

Gwen Bottomley and "Happy" Hogan have a date at the drive-in.

• Ah yes, the classic trope of the scholar who knows everything (and here Bottomley really knows EVERYTHING), yet is a social misfit making no measurable contributions to society. In somewhat of a pleasant surprise, Bottomley is shown to have more street smarts than the stereotype would ordinarily allow. When given the right circumstance, a scholar can make it in our success-obsessed society after all.

  

  Scholar as Celebrity

  
  

  

  In his first appearance on "Masquerade for Money", 
  Bottomley appears as the Encyclopedia Brittanica.

  
  For this role, Colman was perfectly suited. In a contrast to Price, his comedy was subtle and somewhat underplayed. Colman knew that just reading the hilarious lines given to him with his British accent and with a slightly raised eyebrow would be all that's needed from him. Despite his film career playing straight heroic or leading man types (don't miss him in A Tale of Two Cities), Colman had already made a foray into comedy with his radio and then TV series The Halls of Ivy, where as head of a small New England college, he has to juggle academic issues and his marriage with a former Music Hall star, played by his real-life wife Benita Hume. Watch an episode of the TV series below.

• Leading lady Celeste Holm gets ripped off a bit here. She doesn't appear until halfway through the film, and then her first series of scenes, in which she ingratiates herself as a "nurse" to an under-the-weather Bottomley, go way too long. (That was my only issue with an otherwise hilarious and well-paced script). Holm plays well off of Colman, though, and shows a flair for comedy as well as romance.
  

  

  "Flame" O'Neil (Holm) cloyingly turns the charms on a willing
  Bottomley.

• I think I'm going to include a section in these reviews called "Bit Player Bingo", in which I appreciate small roles inhabited by well-known players. In addition to the sad and infamous Jean Spangler, whom I discussed above, you'll see Lyle Talbot, former leading man of the pre-code era, as one of Waters' executive staff, and hear renowned cartoon voice artist Mel Blanc supposedly voicing Caesar, the parrot. I say supposedly, as some writers state that while he was credited, others, notably a woman, actually stepped in that key 'avian' role.

Lyle Talbot (left) peers around at Bottomley in the lobby of 
the Milady Soap Company.

Where to Watch
The film is in the public domain and can be streamed from Archive.org here. It's also been released on DVD.

Further Reading
Read this "bubbling" review from fellow CMBA blogger Rick of Rick's Classic Film and TV Cafe.

When in Rome...Fun at Capitolfest 2018

It's always fun to tell people you're going to Rome...then surprise them further when you reveal it's not actually THE Rome, but rather the small town in central New York. However, the second weekend in August it's the place to be for fans of rare early Hollywood. The weekend festival draws film buffs from many states and Canada, and it was the third time I've attended in 4 years. [Read about my last experience, in 2016, here.]  This year the fabulous and swoonworthy British superstar Ronald Colman took center stage as the 'featured star'. Sadly he's not a household name now, but his films are worth checking out. Perhaps his best known films today are: the wartime romance Random Harvest (1942), a terrific version of Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities (1935), or A Double Life (1947). [He obviously excelled in playing dual roles!]  Of course, Capitolfest gave us the opportunity to see some very rare Colman films, among other little-seen gems.

From Capitol Theatre website

Colman Films
On Friday evening we were treated to the 1924 silent* Romola, (D: Henry King) co-starring both Lillian and Dorothy Gish, and William Powell as the protagonist/villain. I've been wanting to see this one since I developed a particular fondness (!) for Powell back in 2013.  It's a period drama set in Renaissance Florence in which the title character (L. Gish) is torn between her long-time suitor (Colman) and social-climbing opportunist Powell. Some found it long and meandering, but to me it was satisfyingly epic, with the on-location setting in Italy adding an exotic factor. Unfortunately, Colman didn't have too much to do. Powell, despite portraying the villain, got the chance to showcase an undeniable charm that would be his trademark later in his career. Dorothy Gish was fantastic as the poor waif/other woman-- I believe this might be the first film of hers I've seen.  [Below, l to r: Colman and  L. Gish; D. Gish; L. Gish and W. Powell.]

The second Colman film, Bulldog Drummond Strikes Back (1934, D: Roy Del Ruth), screened on Saturday--this one a sophisticated sound film.  As Colman had one of the most mellifluous baritones ever combined with a smooth British accent, I believe most of us attending the festival were eagerly awaiting this one.  It ended up ranking as one of my favorites of the weekend, not only because of Colman; this movie, about a murder in post-WWI London, reveled in its simultaneously cheeky, dark, and mysterious tones.  Colman was wonderful as the titular war hero-turned detective who just can't leave well enough alone and saves several potential victims of a dastardly extortion scheme, including the luscious Loretta Young. Warner Oland shows why he was the master of Asian (albeit in yellow face) villains in later films--he's just this side of cartoonish to be truly enjoyable in his menace.  The pace is snappy and I just didn't want it to end. 

Vilma Banky & Colman make an exotic pair
in The Night of Love

The Night of Love (1927, D: George Fitzmaurice) This was another Colman silent screened on Saturday evening, and I must say it was a disappointment to me. If you've ever seen the fun Son of the Sheik with Valentino, made only a year before, the Colman film felt largely like a retread, with a similar exotic/romantic kidnapping plot, the same director (George Fitzmaurice), female star (Vilma Banky), villain (Montagu Love), and occasional comic tone.  Colman and Banky were paired in several films in the silent era, and this one is rarely seen today, so it was a treat for at least that reason (if not for Colman's curly locks!) 

Sunday morning brought the earliest Colman silent of the weekend, Twenty Dollars a Week (1924, D: Harmon Weight). Colman was not yet the big star and was only one in a large cast. Apparently, though, George Arliss was a real star at the time and stood out in the film. This was a comedy of errors and morals, that frankly, I found too convoluted. It involved rival families adopting children and fathers. For those Arliss and Bette Davis fans, you may have seen the remake called The Working Man from 1933. 

The last Colman film closed the festival, The Rescue (1929 D: Herbert Brenon). This one came at the time of conversion to sound films, and like many others at this time, was made in both a silent and a 'talking' version. Like the best films of the late silent era, a good story, fantastic cinematography, and star power propelled this one. It was a stunner. Since the only surviving print of the film, minus one reel, resided at the George Eastman House, we were fortunate indeed to see it on the big screen here at Capitolfest. I hope it gets a DVD release, as it is more than deserving. Based on the Joseph Conrad novel of the same name, the film puts Colman to good use as the seagoing hero out to win over friendly island natives while thwarting attempts of his clueless countrymen to mess up existing relations with them and put their lives in danger. A lovely young Lili (billed as Lily) Damita is the 'damsel in distress' who starts out seeming a femme fatale but ends the film as a foolish young woman who is on her way to a more mature womanhood.  Highly recommended!

Colman is both dashing and conflicted in The Rescue

Other highlights
The UCLA Film & Television Archive is responsible for the restored version of the 1933 gangster melodrama starring Spencer Tracy called The Mad Game. (1933), which screened on Friday afternoon.  I found it quite enjoyable if not Tracy's best performance. It's notable for being one of the first screen appearances of eventual noir queen Claire Trevor -- she was barely recognizable here, at least to this viewer. Judge for yourself in the image below. She blended charm and sass in her role as intrepid reporter with a soft spot for Tracy. I also admired the work of Ralph Morgan (brother of Frank) as an upstanding judge. 

Spencer Tracy & Claire Trevor in The Mad Game (from www.moma.org)

One of the reasons to go to a rare film festival is to see gems like The House that Shadows Built, which was a documentary short celebrating Paramount's 20th anniversary in 1931.  A Marx Brothers skit not included in any of their films was seen here, as well as the only surviving clips from a movie that was never completed, director Dorothy Arzner's feature The Stepdaughters of War with Ruth Chatterton. Also on the program were some hard-to-see short comedy films, including some Laurel & Hardys (silent and sound), and the side-splitting Your Technocracy and Mine, with comedian Robert Benchley, in which his attempt to lecture on the topic, including nonsensical visual aids, just goes off the rails. 

At Capitolfest there is always (at least) one film that is completely outrageous but irresistible. This year it was the audience pleaser It's Great to be Alive!, in which Raul Roulien's character, by a happy accident, survives a plague that wipes out all of the male human species. When he returns from exile, he must win over his disgruntled girlfriend (Gloria Stuart) so that the human race can continue.  The film doubled as a musical and featured Edna May Oliver in top comic form as head scientist of the institute confronting the crisis.

Raul Roulien soaks up the love in It's Great to be Alive!
Image from moma.org

Perks of Capitolfest

Wendy & Toni 

In addition to the films, Capitolfest abounds with charms. Perhaps the most important, the relaxed atmosphere--there is only one theater, which means no lines and no rushing around.  Popcorn sells for $2.00, and beverages are free once you've purchased your Capitol Theatre mug (I brought mine from 2016).  Most importantly, though, is the opportunity to spend quality time with other film fans, many of whom I know online and/or from the TCM Film Festival -- until next year, guys!

l-r, Wendy, Toni, me, Theresa, Aurora, Alan (author of the selfie)

*All silent films were accompanied by film organists (Dr. Philip Carli, Bernie Anderson, Avery Tunningley) using the in-house vintage (1928) Möller organ.

Book Review: Herbert Marshall, A Biography, by Scott O'Brien

Hooray! One of my favorites finally has a full-length biography: British actor Herbert Marshall (1890-1966).  Author Scott O'Brien has once again done a fabulous job with a lesser-known old Hollywood star, and those (like me!) who want to know about all there is to know about the talented, enigmatic Mr. 'Bart' Marshall should pick up a copy.  The biography was published in February of this year, and is available on Amazon, and also through the publisher's website Bear Manor Media.

[Check out my post on my favorite Marshall film performances here]

Mr. O'Brien certainly did his research. He unearthed many interviews published during Marshall's lifetime, but further, was able to talk to many of his friends and colleagues, other authors, and friends of friends, to get further insights into the real Mr. Marshall.  It should be noted that Marshall had a prolific stage career as well. O'Brien's book offers a complete list of his stage as well as screen credits. 

The book uses a chronological approach, and blends detail about his stage and film engagements with events from his personal life.  O'Brien adopts a matter-of-fact tone, and steers clear of drawing psychological inferences or embellishment.  The biography may have benefited from a bit more probing into the drive and ambition that Marshall would have mustered to overcome his disability, as well as the psychological toll over the years. The sources being ultimately limited most likely do not allow for that. 

  

When I first became a Marshall devotee a few years ago, I watched nearly all his films that could be found, and read as much as I could about him. Sadly, there wasn't much.  But I felt that I was pretty thorough in my own personal research, if frustrated with the lack of detail and contradictory reports.  So, I will admit with a modicum of pride that I was familiar with much of the detail of Marshall's life in the book.  Yet, there was much that I didn't know.  Here are just a few facts that were of particular interest to me:

War Injury:  Most classic film fans know Marshall lost a leg in World War I, and worked in Hollywood using an often painful prosthesis.  Many accounts state that he lost his *right* leg.  Thankfully, O'Brien confirms it was actually the LEFT, which is what I suspected all along after, as I mentioned, having watched nearly all of his available films. I can't explain why this is important to me, as Marshall, while not exactly hiding his injury, preferred not to talk much about it.  It's perhaps the laziness of other writers or researchers to be careless with facts that annoyed me whenever I came across this little error.  O'Brien even specifically cites author Mark Vieira as the source of this information.

1930s Hollywood glamor: Marshall with Trouble in Paradise co-star and friend Kay Francis 1930s Hollywood glamor: Marshall with Trouble in Paradise co-star and friend Kay Francis

Longevity:  Marshall worked his entire life, making his last film just a few months before he died at age 75.  According to O'Brien, Marshall never considered retirement.  This I find particularly interesting. It is not entirely clear if there were financial reasons, or Marshall just loved to work.  

Complicated personal life:  Having married five times and a carried on a significant relationship with Gloria Swanson during his adult life, it's natural that his personal life must have been complicated. But what I didn't know was that, according to comments by those that knew him, he was more of a ladies' man than even his documented relationships may have had you believe. His immense personal charm was a valuable asset in this regard.  That said, by all accounts, he was a generous, kind, and self-effacing person.

His connections with other stars:  Marshall was close to many in his profession. He was a lifelong friend of fellow British character actor Eric Blore. Marshall and Blore starred together in the comedy Breakfast For Two (1937), in which Blore played Marshall's valet. Barbara Stanwyck was the leading lady. It's a lesser known but still fun screwball comedy. Ronald Colman was also a close friend.  Both stars died before Marshall, and he grieved when he lost his old friends.

Eric Blore (left) and Marshall relax while making Breakfast for Two (Picture featured in O'Brien's biography of Herbert Marshall

Love of Trouble in Paradise:  What is one of my favorite films was apparently a favorite of Marshall's as well.  This gem from 1932 is a classic Ernst Lubitsch pre-code sophisticated European comedy. 

His middle-class upbringing: To those of us on this side of the Atlantic, a British accent often connotes education and/or breeding.  Marshall had a fabulous voice and terrific use of the 'Queen's English'. He was admired his entire life for that, and for his brand of 'Britishness' and gentlemanly manner. He sometimes bristled at being labeled a 'gentleman' because in the UK he was decidedly middle-class, having been born in a family of working actors.

Marshall's life and career arc have the advantage of extending through the full first half of cinema history, on two continents. For that reason alone, the biography is a fascinating read - how one person navigated serious setbacks, cultural barriers, etc., to find consistent work in the industry until the mid-1960s.