gbill-74877
Joined Mar 2016
Welcome to the new profile
Our updates are still in development. While the previous version of the profile is no longer accessible, we're actively working on improvements, and some of the missing features will be returning soon! Stay tuned for their return. In the meantime, the Ratings Analysis is still available on our iOS and Android apps, found on the profile page. To view your Rating Distribution(s) by Year and Genre, please refer to our new Help guide.
Badges3
To learn how to earn badges, go to the badges help page.
Ratings3.3K
gbill-74877's rating
Reviews3K
gbill-74877's rating
"You know, you're too good-looking to be shot."
"Think so?"
"For no particular reason I think I'll take charge of you."
"You're the warden. Keep in step, bedroom eyes."
Lots of flirting and inuendo, a car chase and a shootout, gangsters and newspapermen - there are a lot of stock elements from the pre-Code era in this film starring the charismatic James Cagney, who's the main draw. Unfortunately, there are also a few scenes where he manhandles a woman who keeps throwing herself at him (Alice White), so beware of that. Cagney plays a guy who's just gotten out of prison after serving a three year stint and has decided to "go straight" instead of returning to his old gang. He starts working at a tabloid, pursuing lurid stories, and naturally his path crosses both the cop who sent him to prison as well as Jerry "The Mug," the gang member who betrayed him. It's a rather tortured plot, but not a bad way to spend 76 minutes.
In some sense, Alice White is a prototype for Marilyn Monroe here, a combination of risque and innocent. Her character is ditzy and yet smart enough to translate Cagney's account of events into a polished newspaper story on the fly. She's already dating the editor (Ralph Bellamy), but as she puts it, "I'm too much of a woman for any one man." She and Cagney eye each other from the start, and he doesn't conceal what he's looking at it when she turns her back to him. After playing a little ping pong, she's soon in his lap, cooing "Most men starting by holding my hand, telling me how lonesome they are. Then they talk about love, dress it up with a lot of fancy words. I've got too much vitality for that. You've got vitality too," implying they should just start getting physical. There's also an obligatory pre-Code lingerie shot when she changes out of her "duds" in the bedroom with the door open, though the variation here is that Cagney whips out his spy camera and surreptitiously takes a picture of her with it. It's a pre-cursor to men today taking creepy photos with their phones or hidden cameras, and unfortunately played for laughs. It's also impossible to feel good about the way her character is treated at the end, so your mileage may seriously vary while watching this film.
Cagney's real love interest is the "good girl" (Patricia Ellis), who (of course) happens to be the daughter of the cop who sent him to prison. Despite the somewhat alarming comments by White's rival character that she's a "high school girl" and "jailbait" near the end of the film, when she's introduced it's made clear that she goes to the university (phew). That's in a scene where we also get the always delightful Sterling Holloway saying things like "In my opinion, journalism has descended to a deplorable level." Gee, what would he say today?
Along the way, Cagney's also pursued by a woman in the gang (Renee Whitney), whose eyes are all over him after she and the moll (Barbara Rogers) pick him up in the taxi. They tell him they have "new beds and everything" while she stares at him and rubs his hands, which are incidentally in his lap. My, he's a popular fellow in this film. Later they have this exchange, after she's changed into "something comfortable, with such beautiful silk you can almost see through it":
Whitney: "Think you could go for me, darling?" Cagney: "Mmm hmm. Like a mouse for a trap, baby." (he picks her up) Whitney: "You bad boy. What are you gonna do?" (he carries her into the bedroom, and tosses her on the bed) "I knew you couldn't hold out. You need a girl like me."
It's meant to be lighthearted entertainment, but there are some rather dark elements added in as well. We get a fireman sitting in his burned-out home after his wife and her lover have perished, humiliated at the thought of going back to the station house where he had talked about how great she was. We also get a rather gruesome viewing for the press corps of a woman being executed via the electric chair, though nothing is shown directly.
Cagney does all the heavy lifting, however, and his impishness and gleeful laughter give him fantastic screen presence. He's tough with the men and smooth with the ladies, though unfortunately sometimes also a little tough with the ladies. He successfully "goes straight," rescues a mother and her two kids during a gunfight, gets the big photos for the newspaper, and gets the "good girl" - talk about male fantasy. Like most pre-Code fare this is definitely rough around the edges, but it's entertaining.
Lots of flirting and inuendo, a car chase and a shootout, gangsters and newspapermen - there are a lot of stock elements from the pre-Code era in this film starring the charismatic James Cagney, who's the main draw. Unfortunately, there are also a few scenes where he manhandles a woman who keeps throwing herself at him (Alice White), so beware of that. Cagney plays a guy who's just gotten out of prison after serving a three year stint and has decided to "go straight" instead of returning to his old gang. He starts working at a tabloid, pursuing lurid stories, and naturally his path crosses both the cop who sent him to prison as well as Jerry "The Mug," the gang member who betrayed him. It's a rather tortured plot, but not a bad way to spend 76 minutes.
In some sense, Alice White is a prototype for Marilyn Monroe here, a combination of risque and innocent. Her character is ditzy and yet smart enough to translate Cagney's account of events into a polished newspaper story on the fly. She's already dating the editor (Ralph Bellamy), but as she puts it, "I'm too much of a woman for any one man." She and Cagney eye each other from the start, and he doesn't conceal what he's looking at it when she turns her back to him. After playing a little ping pong, she's soon in his lap, cooing "Most men starting by holding my hand, telling me how lonesome they are. Then they talk about love, dress it up with a lot of fancy words. I've got too much vitality for that. You've got vitality too," implying they should just start getting physical. There's also an obligatory pre-Code lingerie shot when she changes out of her "duds" in the bedroom with the door open, though the variation here is that Cagney whips out his spy camera and surreptitiously takes a picture of her with it. It's a pre-cursor to men today taking creepy photos with their phones or hidden cameras, and unfortunately played for laughs. It's also impossible to feel good about the way her character is treated at the end, so your mileage may seriously vary while watching this film.
Cagney's real love interest is the "good girl" (Patricia Ellis), who (of course) happens to be the daughter of the cop who sent him to prison. Despite the somewhat alarming comments by White's rival character that she's a "high school girl" and "jailbait" near the end of the film, when she's introduced it's made clear that she goes to the university (phew). That's in a scene where we also get the always delightful Sterling Holloway saying things like "In my opinion, journalism has descended to a deplorable level." Gee, what would he say today?
Along the way, Cagney's also pursued by a woman in the gang (Renee Whitney), whose eyes are all over him after she and the moll (Barbara Rogers) pick him up in the taxi. They tell him they have "new beds and everything" while she stares at him and rubs his hands, which are incidentally in his lap. My, he's a popular fellow in this film. Later they have this exchange, after she's changed into "something comfortable, with such beautiful silk you can almost see through it":
Whitney: "Think you could go for me, darling?" Cagney: "Mmm hmm. Like a mouse for a trap, baby." (he picks her up) Whitney: "You bad boy. What are you gonna do?" (he carries her into the bedroom, and tosses her on the bed) "I knew you couldn't hold out. You need a girl like me."
It's meant to be lighthearted entertainment, but there are some rather dark elements added in as well. We get a fireman sitting in his burned-out home after his wife and her lover have perished, humiliated at the thought of going back to the station house where he had talked about how great she was. We also get a rather gruesome viewing for the press corps of a woman being executed via the electric chair, though nothing is shown directly.
Cagney does all the heavy lifting, however, and his impishness and gleeful laughter give him fantastic screen presence. He's tough with the men and smooth with the ladies, though unfortunately sometimes also a little tough with the ladies. He successfully "goes straight," rescues a mother and her two kids during a gunfight, gets the big photos for the newspaper, and gets the "good girl" - talk about male fantasy. Like most pre-Code fare this is definitely rough around the edges, but it's entertaining.
"Men! Men! Nothing but men!"
This is a sex comedy, 1926 style. Marion Davies plays the cousin of the heir to a European throne who must pretend to be him after he falls ill, and a lot of the resulting delight comes from compromising situations she's put into amongst men. No matter that between her lipstick and her curves it's obvious she's not a man, with her very short bob and impish charm she's fun to watch.
One example of a ticklish situation early on for her is when a group of men are in the process of exchanging their clothes for uniforms and stripping down in front of her, to her shock and embarrassment. It's followed by a row of them lining up sans trousers and their leader asking her "Your highness, do you want to see any more of these men?" She responds "No thanks. I've seen plenty. Let's go," before humorously taking one last sidelong peep. Later there's the suggestion of the reverse case when one of her royal servants says to her "Your highness, I am to have the pleasure of undressing you," which sends her into conniptions ala Lucille Ball. She has a similar reaction when she says "Men! Nothing but men! Isn't there a woman here?" and he responds by suggestively outlining a pair of breasts with his hands, then saying "That might be arranged, Your Highness."
Davies' character is also forced to chug down beer out of a giant bull's horn with the officers as part of a ritual, which was a funny scene. The film then gets in some romance to go alone with the comedy by having her fall for her guard (Antonio Moreno). She goes to a dance as a man and is frustrated when he expresses a desire to meet a "wonderful girl," and then she has to avoid being seduced by a woman who's helping a general with designs on the throne. Naturally, we know they're going to end up together, which starts taking shape as Davies switches back and forth from dressing as a man and a woman. That leads to the amusing complication that her love/guard thinks the female version of herself is cheating on him with the male version of herself, and challenges her to a duel.
I can't say this was a riot but it did tickle me in places, and Davies had both comedic ability and charm. Kinda cool that the final reel is in the two-strip Technicolor processing too, which despite being four years after the first (The Toll of the Sea (1922), with Anna May Wong), is still one of the older examples.
This is a sex comedy, 1926 style. Marion Davies plays the cousin of the heir to a European throne who must pretend to be him after he falls ill, and a lot of the resulting delight comes from compromising situations she's put into amongst men. No matter that between her lipstick and her curves it's obvious she's not a man, with her very short bob and impish charm she's fun to watch.
One example of a ticklish situation early on for her is when a group of men are in the process of exchanging their clothes for uniforms and stripping down in front of her, to her shock and embarrassment. It's followed by a row of them lining up sans trousers and their leader asking her "Your highness, do you want to see any more of these men?" She responds "No thanks. I've seen plenty. Let's go," before humorously taking one last sidelong peep. Later there's the suggestion of the reverse case when one of her royal servants says to her "Your highness, I am to have the pleasure of undressing you," which sends her into conniptions ala Lucille Ball. She has a similar reaction when she says "Men! Nothing but men! Isn't there a woman here?" and he responds by suggestively outlining a pair of breasts with his hands, then saying "That might be arranged, Your Highness."
Davies' character is also forced to chug down beer out of a giant bull's horn with the officers as part of a ritual, which was a funny scene. The film then gets in some romance to go alone with the comedy by having her fall for her guard (Antonio Moreno). She goes to a dance as a man and is frustrated when he expresses a desire to meet a "wonderful girl," and then she has to avoid being seduced by a woman who's helping a general with designs on the throne. Naturally, we know they're going to end up together, which starts taking shape as Davies switches back and forth from dressing as a man and a woman. That leads to the amusing complication that her love/guard thinks the female version of herself is cheating on him with the male version of herself, and challenges her to a duel.
I can't say this was a riot but it did tickle me in places, and Davies had both comedic ability and charm. Kinda cool that the final reel is in the two-strip Technicolor processing too, which despite being four years after the first (The Toll of the Sea (1922), with Anna May Wong), is still one of the older examples.
"Turn around for you? Why?"
"I want to look at you!"
"Well, look at my face! I don't sing with my ass!"
A feminist film from Martin Scorsese of all people, how refreshing. I loved this one for firmly giving us a woman's point of view as a mother deals with a husband who doesn't appreciate her before dying (leaving her struggling to make ends meet), a mouthy son, and a creepy boyfriend who turns into an abuser. The friendship she has with a neighbor in New Mexico and the one she eventually cultivates with a co-worker in Tucson are beautiful and touching. The dialogue for the most part seemed authentic and inspired by Cassavetes, with fantastic performances all around, most notably from Ellen Burstyn and Diane Ladd. There are also lots of little bits to enjoy here: Jodie Foster at 12, Vic Tayback in the role he would carry over to TV, and Valerie Curtin (SNL Jane's cousin) as an incredibly awkward waitress. I liked the romance with Kris Kristofferson too, even if I felt a little conflicted by the ending. Not a film you'd normally associate with Scorsese, but it's one of his best.
A feminist film from Martin Scorsese of all people, how refreshing. I loved this one for firmly giving us a woman's point of view as a mother deals with a husband who doesn't appreciate her before dying (leaving her struggling to make ends meet), a mouthy son, and a creepy boyfriend who turns into an abuser. The friendship she has with a neighbor in New Mexico and the one she eventually cultivates with a co-worker in Tucson are beautiful and touching. The dialogue for the most part seemed authentic and inspired by Cassavetes, with fantastic performances all around, most notably from Ellen Burstyn and Diane Ladd. There are also lots of little bits to enjoy here: Jodie Foster at 12, Vic Tayback in the role he would carry over to TV, and Valerie Curtin (SNL Jane's cousin) as an incredibly awkward waitress. I liked the romance with Kris Kristofferson too, even if I felt a little conflicted by the ending. Not a film you'd normally associate with Scorsese, but it's one of his best.