Bordertown

Archie Mayo's "Bordertown" is a film that by today's standards would be deemed politically incorrect. The idea of the poor Mexican immigrant that wants to better himself, only to see people step all over him, is at the center of this tale.

Juan Ramirez, the young lawyer, trying to defend the victim of an accident caused by the young and reckless Dale Elwell, is defeated by a much more experienced Anglo lawyer, who happened to know the system and the judge, obviously. As a result, Juan, decides to leave L.A. to go to a border town, probably Tijuana, where he becomes a partner of Charlie Roark, a decent man who sees the potential in Johnny, as he calls himself now.

What Charlie doesn't know is that he is married to a scheming woman that couldn't care less for him. She has to get rid of her husband in order to get her hands on his money and looks to Johnny to help her, but of course, he wants nothing to do with her.

Paul Muni was a great star at Warner Bros. at the time of this film. We were never fans of Mr. Muni, who in this film gives a clichéd account of the Hispanic Juan in a performance that goes over the top and doesn't convince anyone. On the other hand, Bette Davis, as Marie Roark, is her usual excellent self in a more nuanced performance. We see why later on, Ms. Davis will use all what she shows in this film and more to be the great star that she was. In minor roles, the formidable Eugene Palette plays Charlie Roark and Margaret Lindsay is seen as Dale Elwell, the rich girl that provoked the accident.

This film is a rarity seldom seen these days.

As a poor Mexican-American boy, Muni labors to get a night-school law degree, but can't make a professional living in such a poor neighborhood. Ambitious and tough, he works his way into heading a gambling casino. Though a financial success, he loses his way in a white- dominated social world.

It's 1934 and the notorious Hollywood Production Code has just kicked in. Few studios were more affected than Warner Bros., the home of the uncompromising gangster films of Cagney, Robinson, and Muni. There are elements of the typical rags-to-riches gangster theme in this movie, but the tone and content have altered from the pre-Code product. Note the complete absence of gunplay, dead bodies, brutality, and other staples of such pre-Code classics as Public Enemy (1931), Little Caesar (1931), and Scarface (1932).

Technically, this is not a gangster movie-- Muni may be shady, yet he's no criminal. But that too, I believe, results from trying to get right with the new Code. Note how business rivals try to buy out Palette's casino instead of just muscling-in in classic gangster fashion. And though the girls sport some pretty revealing gowns, Muni refuses Davis's overtures, while remaining unclear on his relationship with Lindsey. Such compromises likely result from the producers not wanting sexual relationships to cross racial lines. Contrast this with the strong hints of incest, no less, in the free-wheeling Scarface.

In short, the movie has the trappings of a gangster film, yet departs in ways that I think are traceable to the newly installed Code. Among others, the new strictures were supposed to end public enthrallment with the underworld by deglamorizing it. Thus, Bordertown lacks many of the risky elements that made Warner Bros. such a riveting and dynamic studio during its classical period.

Now, this is not to say the movie is without interest or entertainment value. It took some guts to make Muni's central character a Mexican-American and cast him in a sympathetic light. In fact, the only thoroughly dislikable character is Lindsey's snobbish white boyfriend (Manville). At the same time, I agree with others who think Muni's performance is too florid, along with an accent that sort of comes and goes. He looks the part, but never gets past the impersonation stage. On the other hand, Davis's one scene of nervous frustration while alone in a room is a little gem of mounting hysteria, and makes me appreciate how well she emoted with her expressive eyes. However, it's Margaret Lindsay who walks off with the movie, at least in my view. Her devious upper-class lady is compellingly natural and unaffected, an interesting contrast to Muni's undiluted staginess.

Anyway, the movie may be a come-down from Warner's pre-Code product, but still includes a couple of good twists (e.g. the first courtroom scene). It's also worth a look-see for anyone interested in the evolution of the gangster movie.

Paul Muni was an East European Jew, so naturally he was cast as a Hispanic Californian.

Well, heck, to name just one, Leo Carrillo, a native Hispanic Californian, was cast as everything from Greek to French to Italian to Latino, and so many other "ethnic" actors played various nationalities besides their own heritages.

Muni apparently wore dark makeup for this role, but it wasn't a stereotype; it was, in fact, a very sympathetic character.

Bette Davis never looked lovelier. For years, I have tried to spread my conspiracy theory that she was not made up, but made down, that she was, in fact, a very lovely lady and the Westmore family apparently had it in for her and put the make-up on in such a way that her looks were coarsened, and she was aged long before her time.

She was such a great actress that her looks didn't matter, but she was very attractive and I find it a shame she wasn't allowed to show her natural beauty.

The female, though, who stole this movie, both in looks and in animated characterization, was Margaret Lindsay. She was absolutely fascinating in this role as spoiled rich girl, an almost good guy. In fact, she made this movie worth seeing.

The presence of a genuine Hispanic, Soledad Jiménez, gives one pause to wonder why more genuine Hispanics weren't cast in movies like this. She was just great.

The ending was rather puzzling, perhaps a sop to somebody's nativism, but the story was a good one, the acting was generally great, and all of that, with Archie Mayo's directing, make this one worthwhile.

A film where everyone gets whats coming to them, and true to the 1930's formula, in melodramatic fashion. Featuring the now forgotten Paul Muni (was he really a superstar back then?) as a Hispanic lawyer who learns a hard lesson about the facts of life. Muni, as usual plays it weird; before and after Bordertown, he is a pretty normal guy but while he is in Bordertown he becomes a Hispanic parody. But nevermind that, this film has Bette Davis playing yet another scheming psychopath as only she can. Like the several other Davis movies that she had a minor role in ("Fog over Frisco" and "In This Our Life", to name two), her twisted character stays with you long after she is gone. Plus, she's a blonde! Yowza!

Confronting Muni in one scene, Davis suddenly so forcefully expels cigarette smoke from her nose that she looks like a cartoon bull about to charge. But though it's funny, it's not ludicrous: it's one of those startling, inspired B.D. moments.

Warners cast Davis in "Bordertown" when it became apparent that her just-completed loanout to RKO for "Of Human Bondage" was not going to wreck her career, as Warners had feared. Instead, as Davis had gambled, the risky "Bondage" had been her breakout performance. "Bordertown" was a worthy follow-up, with Davis just as compelling as the obsessor rather than the obsessee.