Hollywood Spectator (1937-39)

Hollywood Spectator Page Seven Viewed in its, entirety, however, Paradise Isle is a commendable attempt for an independent studio. Certainly it will give audiences more entertainment value for their money than many of the B productions from major studios. of American history. Through them the public, especially the generation now in school, may get a clearer concept of the factors which went into the growth of this country, a knowledge which should be of value in their future conduct of it. fW OVITA, who is starred in the production, and is under contract to the company, gives a creditable account of herself in the picture. She is graceful, and extremely pretty in her dark make-up and native garb. She handles her native accent skillfully, keeps in character, and on several occasions could have evoked no little pathos if the succession of the shots had been more leisurely, making greater allowance for emotional growth. Not among her dramatic attributes, however, are the obviously penciled eyebrows, a phase of make-up concerning which Welford Beaton had some pointed words to say a few issues back. Warren Hull handles his lines with intelligence, and plays his difficult scenes with restraint and taste. The fact that he creates no great sympathy in the spectator can be attributed to other reasons than his performance. Movita and Hull sing pleasantly together a lilting theme song, one of the composers of which has a name that I cannot resist the temptation to put into print — Tuiteleleapaga. George Piltz as the girl’s native lover is thoroughly in his element, apparently being a native himself, and Tua Mana and Malia Makua also fit effectively into the scene. Pierre Watkin plays with understanding his role of the doctor. William Davidson and John St. Poll’s are efficiently villainous, and Kenneth Harlan, making a brief appearance, seems to be fit. Robert Lee Johnson directed. Who Is Toasted? THE TOAST OF NEW YORK, R.K.O. Producer. Edward Small; director, Rowland V. Lee; based on BOOK OF DANIEL DREW, by Bouck White, and ROBBER BARONS, by Matthew Josephson; screen play, Dudley Nichols, John Twist and Joel Sayre; music and lyrics, Nathaniel Shilkret, Allie Wrubel and L. Wolfe Gilbert; musical director, Nathaniel Shilkret; photographer, Peverell Marley; special effects, Vernon L. Walker; art director, Van Nest Polglase; associate, Carroll Clark; costumes, Edward Stevenson. Cast: Edward Arnold, Cary Grant, Frances Farmer, Jack Oakie, Donald Meek, Thelma Leeds, Clarence Kolb, Billy Gilbert, George Irving, Frank M. Thomas, Russell Hicks, Oscar Apfel, Dudley Clements, Lionel Belmore, Robert McClung, Robert Dudley, Dewey Robinson, Stanley Fields, Gavin Gordon, Joyce Compton, Virginia Carroll. A GAIN the exponents of the philosophy of rugged in** dividualism, who have played such a great part in the building of our country, come in for a cinematic expose. This time it is the period just following the Civil War that is dealt with. The Toast of New York chronicles the rise to power in the world of finance of Jim Fisk, a story ostensibly based on history. It is a colorful and frequently thought-provoking account of the man and of his era, however far it may have deviated from fact, and I suspect that the deviation is considerable. Fisk as portrayed is certainly a shrewd and daring fellow, nearly succeeding in cornering all the gold in the United States, maintaining his own regiment of soldiers, and generally wielding a dexterous set of teeth in a dog-eat-dog world. I have no doubt, however, that the film has, a certain significance as cinematic fare, along with other expose films Appearing together again in the picture are Edward Arnold and Frances Farmer, who registered well in Come and Get It. I feel obliged to indulge in another of those odious comparisons and record that neither is seen to quite as good advantage in this film ; nor is, the period recreated with the same insight. Perhaps it is because we are too far away from the earlier era. We tend to look back upon a period as long ago as the Civil War and color it with fancy, to regard it as quaint. This is exactly what The Toast of New York does. It paints, a bright-hued, sometimes flamboyant, picture of the era on the one hand, while asking us to accept an expose of some of its more sordid aspects on the other, which makes for a discrepancy in viewpoint in the film. PrODUCTION values are lavished on the picture, there is a strong cast, and Director Rowland V. Lee has seen that the story progresses smoothly. The fact that the film, despite several exciting episodes, and some well built suspense toward the climax, is lacking in the degree of “punch,” of emotional stimulus, which we ordinarily expect from a feature picture of its caliber — this fact can be ascribed mainly to the discrepancy in viewpoint analyzed above and to the film’s concern with finance, a subject not usually very romantic in drama. True, it has been us,ed as a background for very romantic persons, but if the details of transactions are played up, especially the workings of the stock market, about which few persons not actively involved in commercial enterprise are well informed, the material tends to be dull. The romantic interest in The Toast of New York is figuratively held in the back seat, since Frances Farmer is not in love with her benefactor, Arnold, and both she and Cary Grant are too loyal to their mutual friend to betray him by recognizing their love for each other. This circumstance makes Miss Farmer’s role rather negative; and the role is made even more so by the fact that her character’s theatrical career, despite the fortune devoted to promoting it, is scarcely sensational, the audience rising in angry protest against the prodigality of its backer, who controls a good deal of their money, on the opening night. All of which leaves one to wonder who, according to the implication of the title, is toasted. Certainly Arnold is not, on the contrary being vehemently chased out of town. Perhaps it is subtle irony the title drives at. But getting back to Miss Farmer’s role — little attention is devoted to her activities in the theatre, except for some spasmodic shots of her show, a musical affair done in the most trumped-up and over-elaborate modern fashion, which makes the scenes obviously out of spirit with the rest of the film. What opportunity there is in such a stage production to gratify her desire to be “a great actress” I cannot perceive. At any rate, Miss Farmer really has little to do but look pretty and moody, both of which she does well. And I still think she has one of the most interesting voices in pictures.