Hollywood Spectator (1937-39)

Page Eight March 27, 1937 craftsmen recreated pieces of the island scenery and Karl Struss made them warmly rich by the quality of his photography. Robert C. Bruce, another master cameraman, journeyed to Hawaii and brought back scenes of surpassing beauty that dignifies photographic art. Paramount did not stint itself in filling the screen with beautiful maidens and manly young men, in staging dances which express physically the rhythmic beat of Hawaiian strings and are accompanied by vocal interpretation of appropriate songs. Add to all this the presence of Bing Crosby, one of the screen’s most capable actors and pleasing singers; Shirley Ross with her charming personality and equally charming singing voice; Bob Burns with a pleasant little pig instead of his unpleasant bazooka, and a story which manages well enough to hold the whole thing together, and we have a film attraction strong enough to be entertaining in spite of a few annoying qualities. Music, of course, dominates, and rarely have vocal and instrumental numbers been interwoven more alluringly in a succession of such beautiful scenes. M Y failure to include Martha Raye among the picture’s assets is due to my personal preferences in the way of comedy. She has talent, but Paramount is not developing it. Acting ability might be summed up as proficiency in presenting a series of characterizations unlike oneanother. Martha gave one in her first picture and has repeated it in the others, even though in her drunken scene in Rhythm on the Range she revealed a fine sense of comedy. In that picture her every turn was applauded loudly by the preview audience. At the Waikiki Wedding preview her applause was scattered and lukewarm. She screams a song in a voice that will rasp the stoutest nerves. By its manner of presenting her, Paramount is destroying what might be developed into a real box-office asset. I thought his bazooka finally would extinguish Bob Burns’ cinematic light, and I applaud heartily the substitution of the pig even though I regret their having called the animal Wafford. Every time his name was pronounced I thought I was being paged. For the first time, however, Bob’s performance completely pleased me. His personality is an asset. I have not met him, but I gather from his screen performances that he is a decent fellow worth knowing. An actor who can create that feeling has half his performance in the bag before he starts to work. The chief merit of George Barbier’s performance is its brevity. Another two minutes of his shouting of lines at the top of his voice would have the audience jittery. I have seen Grady Sutton in many productions and each time he has impressed me. I know of no one else on the screen who can match his cleverness at appearing dumb. Leif Erikson makes a brief part one of the highlights. Frank Tuttle’s direction makes good use of the various elements of the production except in those scenes in which the dialogue was allowed to make too much noise. Ludwig’s Good Direction HER HUSBAND LIES, Paramount release of B. P. Schulberg production. Directed by Edward Ludwig; screen play by Wallace Smith and Eve Greene; story by Oliver H. P. Garrett; photograph ed by Leon Shamroy; art direction by Albert D Agostino; musical direction by Boris Morros; original songs by Burton Lane and Ralph Freed; set decorations by George T. Nicoll; film editor, Robert Bischoff; costumes by Edith Head; sound recording by Jack Goodrich; assistant director, Ray Lissner. Cast: Gail Patrick, Ricardo Cortez, Akim Tamiroff, Tom Brown, Louis Calhern, June Martel, Dorothy Peterson, Jack LaRue, Ralf Harolde, Bradley Page, Ray Walker. Running time, 75 minutes. YI7HA T the name of the picture was I cannot recall, but ff the direction Edward Ludwig gave it prompted me to place him on my list of young directors who were destined to do big things on the screen. Since then I have watched his work with growing conviction that I was right in my estimate of his ability. The forward movement of the story, its mounting drama and the excellence of the performances make Her Husband Lies decidedly worthwhile. The film industry through the years has taught the public so assiduously to look for stellar names on marquees before entering picture theatres, the lack of such names in the cast of the Schulberg picture will not put it among the season’s, great box-office smashes, but it can be recommended without reservation as an engrossing piece of entertainment even though its atmosphere is unsavory and most of its characters gamblers and gunmen. Ludwig’s direction keeps the story intact, causes it to be a tightly knit succession of believable scenes building to a dramatic ending. But the picture is free from obvious efforts to produce dramatic effects. For all its outsidethe-law episodes the story is told with the same simplicity that might be applied to a quiet rural drama. Ben Schulberg has given it the kind of complete production we have learned to expect from him. The atmosphere of the story did not tempt him to disturb the filmic pattern by the intrusion of the weird settings which appear in so many pictures to divert our attention from the story. i HE performances in Her Husband Lies also fit neatly into the pattern, and under wise direction have attained the quality that always makes screen performances perfect — the quality of naturalness which never suggests the actor. The atmosphere of the story has little to recommend it, but the manner in which it is told makes it worthwhile as screen entertainment, and credit for the manner of its telling goes to its direction. Oliver Garrett’s dramatic story was made into a consistent screen play by Wallace Smith and Eve Greene. Of course, there is far too much dialogue, but if our attendance at picture houses were prompted only by pictures with the right amount of dialogue, we would spend far more time at home than we do now. Thej-e are three nice young women in the picture, Gail Patrick, Dorothy Peterson and June Martel, who bring fresh air into the sordid atmosphere. Each of them does splendidly. Four of the finest performances you could hope to find in any one picture are those of Ricardo Cortez, Akim Tamiroff, Tom Brown and Louis Calhern. The cast is sprinkled liberally with minor characters w’ho deserve as much credit for their bits as the others do for their parts. Albert D’Agostino’s art direction and Leon Shamroy’s photography also are big contributions.