Beauty for Sale

The subjects of "Beauty for Sale" are three employees of a fashionable Manhattan beauty salon run by the haughty Hedda Hopper. There is Una Merkel, the hardworking but cynical daughter of a rooming house proprietress (May Robson), Madge Evans, a boarder fresh from Paducah, Kentucky hoping to make it in the Big City and Florine McKinney who falls for the charms of Hopper's rakish son (Phillips Holmes).

At various moments the main characters' faces are arranged at sharp angles in close-up as they converse about the hard choices in their lives; or off-kilter flashes of one beauty parlor customer after another engaged in varieties of gossip and small talk; we get glimpses of carefully choreographed throbbing studio-shot street life as we follow characters from plot point to plot point: Eddie Nugent (Robson's loquacious son) on a crowded Brooklyn street as he makes his way home; the minutiae of daily home life: Robson preparing a gargantuan lunch basket feast for a departing tenant; a beauty parlor client (Alice Brady at her ditzy best) fussing with her pillows, her dog, her tea as she chatters away as her long-suffering, patient husband (the elegant Otto Kruger) attends to her every whim. Every scene is filled with little bits of vibrancy and every featured player contributes something solid.

The Madge Evans character gets the most screen time as she struggles to figure out whether to pursue her relationship with the older, married Kruger who is taken with her. This could be Evans's most substantial screen role. Merkel provides her customary sassy humor as she stakes out an even older admirer, hoping to marry into riches. McKinney's romance is another story entirely.

Despite its rather hackneyed story (young women navigating the perils of romance) "Beauty for Sale" is well worth viewing for its details of character, perspective and environment.

This fast, fizzy, deft comedy skirts the Code so nimbly that I couldn't tell just by watching (on TCM this morning, thanks for the thousandth time TCM) whether it's pre- or post-Code. I appreciated so many unsung, supporting, and subtextual things about this ur-romcom that I can't mention them all here. In order of surprise/urgency, the top 5 are:

1. Otto Kruger! Here is the man who clearly should gotten all those roles wasted on Warren Williams - what were producers thinking? (Were they thinking?) They look about the same age, yet Otto's handsomer, less tedious, and possessed of actual romantic and comic acting chops.

2. The writing! Cattiness among beauticians, and the delectable Alice Brady brand of un-self-awareness: "I'm very intuitive." Her literal kiss-off scene with Kruger has never been done better in a comedy, not even by Meryl Streep and *insert leading man here*.

3. The bad boyfriend! An almost complex portrait of a goofball who clearly doesn't deserve the leading lady, but not because he's a bad guy. He's not all good, either. He's just not grown up. It's a forgiving, shaded character, played by Eddie Nugent with a subtlety usually missing from lame runner-up lover roles.

4. The slapstick! I don't care how many takes they went through to print the change-of-driver-in-real-estate-agent's-car scene. The result is totally worth it. I'm actually surprised I've never seen this bit in a TCM montage of silly scenes.

5. Madge Evens! Una Merkel! Listed low, but only for the surprise factor. Both are at or near their very best here. Miss Merkel never gets enough credit for delivering both sides of a double-entendre grilled to smoking hot perfection. Miss Evans does more-or-less blameless ingenue so well it's not boring - this is Carole Lombard territory, and she nails it, sweetly and demurely (well, mostly demurely, see no. 4).

Beauty for sale is one of those classic movie treasures that you happen to come across by channel surfing one late, late Tuesday night and stop to watch for no other apparent reason than you happen to like classic movies so you watch. Perhaps it was Madge Evans' polished mannerisms, speaking voice or looks that catch your attention, or Una Merkel who you swear you've seen somewhere but you can't place your finger on it. (I later found out she played Verbena on the Hayley Mill's classic, The Parent Trap - I knew I recognized her) It's an endearing story that's probably been told a hundred times over, but you can't help falling in love with it anyway. Falling in love with married men, men who are old enough to be your father, men who are in no position to ever want commitment, adultery, unwed motherhood, and gold digging - sounds like Jerry Springer. Except this one has class. A wonderful movie, a great cast (including Hedda Hopper and Alice Brady), and even I fell a little for Otto Kruger.

I was a little surprised how much I ended up liking this little film. It has all the signs of a typical 'B' pre-Code effort, without big stars in its cast, some corny humor, and women who are looking to improve their lot in life via romance (ok, gold-diggers if we must call them that). It grew on me though, through the strength of its characters, interesting story lines, and frank depiction of adultery and the emotions that go along with it.

Three young women work at a beauty shop attending to affluent ladies, and in the process, also meet their husbands (and in the case of one of them, the boss's son). The film is very direct about the affairs this leads to, and we see that each of them is in it for a different reason: the pursuit of wealth (Una Merkel), marriage (Florine McKinney), and just simple pleasure (Madge Evans). How refreshing is it to see Madge Evans so empowered and sexually free, as other pre-Code women were permitted to be (Norma Shearer in 'A Free Soul' comes to mind). Here's the exchange she has with Merkel's more mercenary character, who asks her what she's going to get out of it:

"Oh, I'm not trying to get anything out of it." "I hope he's not out to get anything either!" "Of course not. He was lonely." "Lonely? (laughs) Unless there's a mistake in the census report, there's 4 million other people in New York besides you." "Well anyway, his wife came back three days ago." "Oh, so now he isn't lonely anymore. I bet you haven't seen him since!" "Why should I? It amused him to take me out. It amused me to go. It was a pleasant friendship, that's all, and it's over. Why, I'll probably never see him again."

Note she's just a cheerful young woman with a good head on her shoulders who has enjoyed a fling; not a wanton creature doomed because she's sinned.

It's a dangerous game, though, as Merkel puts it so aptly when real feelings are involved: "You don't want to have to hang around the back door of his life, begging for a handout. You don't want to have to sneak and hide and keep outta sight the way I do. And in the end, when he turns back to his wife and his home, you don't want to be kicked out in the sacred name of respectability - the way I was." And aside from the frustrations of being the 'other woman', the film gives us some pretty dark stuff: unplanned pregnancy, an allusion to an abortion (a separate case we hear about via gossipers), and real despair. McKinney has one of the film's great scenes when she's trying to process an emotional shock, giving the film a depth I didn't expect.

Madge Evans is irrepressible, taking things as they come with a buoyancy that is never cloying, and in fact, we often see her resigned stoicism. Her character is a nice combination of being virtuous but also knowing the ways of the world, and she also has no inhibitions about smacking Una Merkel on the butt or kissing her on the lips in friendly affection (a common pre-Code bit of titillation, as are scenes of the women changing, revealing the lingerie of the day). Merkel is delightful too, though I liked her character more when she was putting her brother in his place than when she was seeking gifts from her aging sugar daddies.

This brother is played by Edward J. Nugent, and he's always joking around, and in pretty endearing ways early on. We see him pretend to drop a plate in front of his mother (May Robson) and then catch it, for example. We see an unpleasant sides of him as time goes by though, and his jokes get a little tiring ("Well, no harm will come to that, as the drummer said when he looked at the cross-eyed old maid"), though I confess I actually chuckled at just how bad they were. He's a nice enough guy, but he's just not all that sophisticated, and he's a little creepy too, for example, making it clear that he's had a variety of women succumb to his 'charms', and what he intends on doing on his honeymoon.

The supporting cast is deep, and part of the film's appeal. The manager of the shop (Isabel Jewell) and owner (Hedda Hopper) are given strong personalities and lines. Otto Kruger is smooth and refined as the lawyer Evans carries on with, and Alice Brady is fantastic as his wife; she's a pampered dingbat, and into things like numerology and astrology. "We vibrate in different planes," she says at one point, channeling the 1960's. In another hilarious moment she has Evans bend her legs back over her head 50 times as part of the "exercise" that will help her with her "undeveloped hips". The gossiping patrons also keep things lively with various comments we hear in between major scenes.

The wealth gap is on full display, which was another interesting aspect of the film. We learn that Brady's character wasn't always as she is now, and that wealth not only spoiled her, but made her lose touch with the realities of the world. The clients of the beauty shop have money to burn, and fritter it away. One of them brings her little girl in to also receive treatment, and after it's over, the girl impudently sticks her tongue out at the manager. The mother has just spent $42.50 for the two of them - that's over $800 in today's dollars - and this was during the fourth year of the Depression! The film falls into a common trope of the era - getting out of poverty by meeting someone rich (essentially winning the lottery) - but it does manage to get some satire of the wealthy in.

Beauty For Sale stars a radiant Madge Evans as a good girl trying to make it as a beautician in Manhattan. The film is a little more than a multiplot soap opera but benefits from Evans, the unlikely romantic lead (Otto Kruger), solid direction by Richard Boleslawski, and most of all, superb photography by James Wong Howe (here credited simply as James Howe). The film is sublime when Howe's camera is most active, with superb lighting and set-ups and some scenes that look like they could be from films shot 20 or 30 years in the future. His sense of depth is particularly impressive, especially in a brilliant scene involving a slowly swinging bathroom door! The film feels like a classic at about the two thirds mark, but sadly cycles down to merely enjoyable by the final reel, as comedy and romance take over from tragedy and drama. Nonetheless, this is strongly recommended.