The Beast of the City

The Beast Of The City finds Walter Huston cast as a crusading and honest cop, possibly too rigidly honest. His character is a whole lot like Kirk Douglas's detective in Detective Story that would come out a generation later.

The film also borrows a lot from westerns at the time. Huston's unknown western city is ruled by gangster Jean Hersholt who is apparently untouchable as far as the law is concerned. A whole lot like real life gangsters Al Capone and Lucky Luciano who were coming into prominence.

Huston's family life is secure enough, wife Dorothy Peterson, a few kids among them a young Mickey Rooney. He also has his younger and weaker brother Wallace Ford living with them. Ford's got a real good deal, no rent and he apparently chases a lot of skirts. That proves to be his downfall and eventually Huston's.

The skirt that did them in belonged to Jean Harlow. Jean was never a better mantrap in her career than she is The Beast Of The City. Wallace Ford turns out to be putty in her hands.

Also note another good performance in The Beast Of The City is that of Tully Marshall who plays Hersholt's lawyer. The word shyster was invented for lawyers like Marshall, but he's good to have on your side especially if you're guilty as sin.

The climax is an unforgettable one and one more typical to a western than a modern drama. It's what makes The Beast Of The City a classic that is too rarely seen today.

MGM tried to go for the hard edged style of Warner Brothers gangster films with this drama about a strict DA (Walter Huston making an amazing turn as a tough guy) looking to clean up the city. The film is stolen by Jean Harlow, as a loose woman luring Huston's rookie cop brother (Wallace Ford) down the highway to sin. Her `koochie-dance' she performs for Ford is quite the eyeful! And dig that vicious, mind bending ending!

The prologue says it all—people need to support the cops, not the gangsters. After all, it's 1932, the depths of the depression, and cops are seen by much of the public as enforcers of a broken system. Desperadoes like Dillinger, Baby-Face Nelson, and Bonnie & Clyde are romanticized as ordinary folks driven to robbing hated banks. At the same time, romanticizing films such as Public Enemy (1931) and Little Caesar (1931) are smash hits at the box-office. Tellingly, cops are depicted here as opposing a crime boss's (Belmonte) attempt to take over the city, not busting up strikes, enforcing repossessions, or chasing down dashing desperadoes.

It's a pretty good crime movie up to the ridiculous climax, where the two sides look like warring armies engaged in a frontier showdown. Why a police chief would deploy his men so recklessly is a real stretch. But, never mind, since there's a metaphorical point at stake here —namely, that police will honorably and bravely defend families no matter the personal cost to them, much as seen in popular Western movies. As a result, what makes for a positive social message is seen in the shootout as not necessarily translating into persuasive cinema.

Harlow makes for a convincing trollop—note her pre-Code liking for pain when properly done! Also, Walter Huston remains one of the fine forgotten actors from this period. Here, he again shows a real ability to convey strong emotion in an understated way. The movie also benefits from LA street locations. It's always a kick to see the styles and fashions from that long ago time. Anyway, taken in its time period, the movie remains very revealing in more ways than one.

Unlike most gangster films of the early 30s, this Hearst-produced item was fiercely on the side of the law (with a supporting quote by President Herbert Hoover directly following the opening credits), as personified by Walter Huston, as a charming "everyman" Irish cop with a weak-willed younger brother (Wallace Ford). Huston is a charming family man (extended scenes with his wife and children underscore this point, to distraction) who dedicates himself to wiping out crime in a generic, unnamed American city during Prohibition when bootleggers were the scourge of the nation. Ford, lured by gang moll Jean Harlow, gets mixed up with a crime syndicate (led by German-accented Jean Hersholt uncharacteristically cast as a loathsome Italian gangster). Harlow gets the best lines and is easily the most engaging element of the story. The resolution is earnest if technically clumsy and obvious, but with Harlow, Huston, Hersholt and Tully Marshall, who delivers a rousing courtroom monologue (not to mention a supporting role played by an 11-year-old Mickey Rooney), it's worth a look.

THE BEAST OF THE CITY (Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1932), a Cosmopolitan Production directed by Charles Brabin, is not a story about some wild gorilla loose in New York. King Kong would take care of that in 1933. The movie, in general, is MGM being, or at most, outdoing Warner Brothers crime dramas with gangsters as leading attractions. For something completely different, an opening statement written by President Herbert C. Hoover is brought forth on screen: "Instead of the glorification of cowardly gangsters, we need the glorification of policemen who do their duty and give their lives in public protection. If the police had the vigilante, universal backing of public opinion in their communities, if they had the implacable support of the prosecuting attorneys and the courts, I am convinced that our police would stamp out the excessive crime - which has disgraced some of our great cities." In other words, THE BEAST OF THE CITY is more than a crime story. It's a tribute to the crime fighting men in blue.

Taken from a story by "Little Caesar" author, W.R. Burnett, the fade-in follows the daily routine of the New York City police department through its camera tracking starting with police operators(one being Edward Brophy) taking, receiving or gathering information from phone calls before "calling all cars" to policemen in their siren blazing patrol cars racing down the streets to their latest assignments. James J. Fitzpatrick (Walter Huston) is introduced as a police captain whose failing methods in putting gang leader, Sam Belmonte (Jean Hersholt) in prison due to lack of evidence, assisted by a corrupt lawyer (Tully Marshall) who gets him released on technicality, gets himself demoted to desk job at a quieter precinct at the other side of town by his chief commander (Emmett Corrigan). Fitzpatrick, a family man with wife, Mary (Dorothy Peterson), twin daughters (Betty Mae and Beverly Crane) and son, Mickey (Mickey Rooney), redeems himself by capturing a pair of robbers, that reinstates his position as police chief. As Fitzpatrick continues his attempt to put an end of Belmonte's racketeering activities, Ed (Wallace Ford), his younger brother and detective in the police force, who, while on assignment, falls victim to Daisy (Jean Harlow), Belmonte's "stenographer" and mistress, Unable to obtain a promotion, Ed foils his brother's chances with his fight against crime.

Other members of the cast include: John Miljan (District Attorney); Sandy Roth (Lieutenant John "Mac" McGrowski); J. Carroll Naish (Pierre Choco, one of Belmonte's mob); Murray Kinnell (The Judge). There's also those familiar faces of character actors as George Chandler, Clarence Wilson, Arthur Hoyt and Nat Pendleton appearing in smaller roles.

Virtually forgotten following its very limited television broadcasts since the 1960s, this pre-code crime melodrama, which surfaced decades later in the wake of cable television on Turner Network Television (TNT) in the late 1980s before becoming a prominent fixture on Turner Classic Movies (1994 onward), THE BEAST OF THE CITY, being Walter Huston's movie from start to finish, is recognizable mostly for its presence by the second-billed Jean Harlow, still early in her career. For her second MGM film, the studio where she would remain until her untimely death in June 1937, is basically secondary than a major presence. She does make the most of it doing her part of a tough talking blonde. Harlow's character is introduced briefly in Belmonte's office with no spoken dialogue before coming forth minutes later in the police line-up where she captures the attention of the weakling brother (Ford) to a crime fighter (Huston). Though the Danish-born Hersholt may seem miscast as the Italian ring-leader, possibly John Miljan, probably tiring of his bad guy image by this point (cast as a gray-haired attorney), might have been better suited. Or Tully Marshall switching with Hersholt. Of its assemble, much of the cast is well placed in their roles, especially Walter Huston who can play bad guys, good guys or anti-heroes with conviction without any chance of being type-cast.

Once seen, whether on DVD or TCM viewing, it's hard to forget some of the violence (by 1932 standards) attached to THE BEAST OF THE CITY, along with its offbeat and dark method to Fitzpatrick's fight against crime. This is his story. This is MGM's contribution to the American policemen. This is Hollywood's participation to crime wave on the city streets, quite different, quite atypical from anything else regards to cops and gangsters up to this level. (***)