This is one of those films that going in I really didn’t care for but in the end it grew on me. Twentieth Century ends up being one of those films that’s really funny once you get past some of its shortcomings. It’s not only got entertaining dialogue, but it’s got a great performance from John Barrymore.
To start off, the film sets the tone right away, if not at a good pace, but nonetheless, you know this is a comedy. My favorite lines before Barrymore graces the screen come from Roscoe Karns, ever delivering those sarcastic one liners. In fact he and Walter Connolly show once again how important the supporting cast is. They’re supposed to be buffoonish but they have to be entertaining and that Karns and Connolly pull off magnificently. Karns the drunkard always at Barrymore’s bidding and Connolly as Barrymore’s loyal friend, forever getting fired and always on the verge of a heart attack.
Breaking down the film and reading the script definitely helped me stay focused throughout the story, otherwise I got bored somewhere in between. From Carole Lombard’s shrieks and the lack of a better audio track, the film tends to lag once the story moves on the train, and this is precisely when it should feel as if it were speeding up.
Lombard was a problem for me and I noticed it more so after reading the script. Had this been the first film of hers I had seen then perhaps her performance may not have bothered me as much. But when you go into a screwball comedy to see the queen of screwball, and it’s not just that you heard, you’ve seen her at her best, you go into the film with high expectations. This I believe is what the problem was for me. Her performance here isn’t bad, it’s just not great, and as I’ve mentioned she almost comes off as if she’s trying to act like Jean Harlow. In fact, I think Harlow might’ve been better in this, and I say that simply because I think I could tolerate Harlow’s whining, but I couldn’t for Lombard. It’s not that Lombard can’t play a spoiled princess because she has done it beautifully before, it’s just that this spoiled brat is completely unlikable. And while that might be on purpose, there should be something charming about her, and I couldn’t find it.
The only good thing about Lily being unlikable is that it makes sense that she ends up with Jaffe in the end. But even that’s a bit off because while Jaffe is unbearable, Barrymore has so much fun with him that you like Jaffe, you want him to get what he wants in the end, but then you wonder how he could put up with Lily. Barrymore is perhaps the most enjoyable thing out of this film. To watch his facial expressions go from patient to serious to melodramatic is all hilarious. He is such an actor and then when he has to go under disguise he says he can’t believe he’s sink so low as to become an actor. He’s comical and entertaining every bit of the way.
I couldn’t say that Twentieth Century is one of my favorites but it’s certainly isn’t bad or as unwatchable as I deemed it back years ago the first time I watched it. There’s a great cast, a fantastic lead in John Barrymore, but mostly it’s got a funny script, the one thing that holds the film together. It’s not like the screwballs that would come later on, but it certainly laid the groundwork for the genre in time to come.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Napoleon of Broadway
I was able to read a copy of the final draft of Twentieth Century, and while it is about as long as most scripts were in those days, it was enjoyable to read. This of course is due to the sharp dialogue and great characterizations. This is probably the third or fourth script of Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur's that I read and I must say they really had a gift for finding a character's voice, as well as delivering irony. The film in itself is probably not a favorite, and while the script is pretty much the same as the film, I have to say I enjoyed reading the script more than watching the film.
It's amazing how distinct each character's voice is. I could hear the actors speaking the words and was able to see how they interpreted the dialogue since there were instances in which the script gave no direction. Reading Lily's lines, for example, I wasn't as distracted by the whining or constant shrieking that you hear in the film. Even still though, it's clear that Lily is quite a diva. There is stage direction that Lily collapses into tears, and the thing that struck me the most was how often she says people keep "hammering and hammering" and I think I just tuned it all out because she was shrieking in those instances. Interesting enough, as I read Lily's part and remembered Carole Lombard's performance I suddenly started thinking on Jean Harlow and wondered if Lombard was emulating Harlow. There's a way that Lombard delivers her lines after the three years have passed and on throughout the film that's reminiscent of Harlow's manner of speaking, sort of as in an exaggerated way of asking rhetorical questions.
As for Jaffe, well this is Jaffe's story. The play was originally called Napoleon of Broadway and I think perhaps they should've stuck with that name because it fits the film perfectly. Changing the name to Twentieth Century, after the train and a line that has a double meaning, it just ended up being more of a marketing ploy to me to show the film wasn't just starring John Barrymore, but also Lombard. In any case, Jaffe is every bit the dictator, the tyrant on page as he is on screen. Even still there are moments in which Barrymore takes it a bit further. Many of his lines are just straight forward without much direction. The great thing about it is that dialogue speaks for itself, makes it easier for Barrymore to act them out. So when he pauses and drags out a line for emphasis, it makes sense, especially considering the histrionics Jaffe tends to throw around.
The one thing that's interesting in the script though is that Jaffe is the one that discovers Lily is boarding the train and gets Webb and O'Malley to scheme with him to get her back. He further goes on to profess his love for her to O'Malley. While this is obviously implied by his actions, in the film Jaffe always makes it seem as if what he's really after is the star for his stage, his plays. I have to say, though, that it was a wise move to take this bit of dialogue out precisely because it's already implied. And because Jaffe does make it seem like it's more of a professional thing he's after, again, it's obvious it isn't, and Jaffe because even more complex and definitely more entertaining.
Even after reading the screenplay, I think that the film is more about Jaffe than the screenplay. There are more than a few bits of short scenes or lines between characters that were taken out. Perhaps this was due to time and I'm assuming that shooting with sequences or reels in mind where taken into account. But there was a short scene between Lily and George that was taken out, as well as some lines between O'Malley and Webb. Sometimes lines were merged or taken out of the omitted scene and put into a new scene. It works, but again, the finished film turns out to be more about Jaffe I think than about Lily and Jaffe.
Unlike some other scripts, Twentieth Century didn't take that long to read, and I have to say that it must be due to the great dialogue, which made it easy to go through. The great thing about the dialogue here is that it advances the story and not much stage direction is needed because it happens naturally. This isn't to say that there's no action written down, but instead that the dialogue facilitates the storytelling in a way that stage direction and action is only used when absolutely necessary. And above all, the dialogue is much funnier when you get to read it and listen to it at your desired volume in your head so that you can still understand it. The script is sharp, different from other comedies, and worth the read.
It's amazing how distinct each character's voice is. I could hear the actors speaking the words and was able to see how they interpreted the dialogue since there were instances in which the script gave no direction. Reading Lily's lines, for example, I wasn't as distracted by the whining or constant shrieking that you hear in the film. Even still though, it's clear that Lily is quite a diva. There is stage direction that Lily collapses into tears, and the thing that struck me the most was how often she says people keep "hammering and hammering" and I think I just tuned it all out because she was shrieking in those instances. Interesting enough, as I read Lily's part and remembered Carole Lombard's performance I suddenly started thinking on Jean Harlow and wondered if Lombard was emulating Harlow. There's a way that Lombard delivers her lines after the three years have passed and on throughout the film that's reminiscent of Harlow's manner of speaking, sort of as in an exaggerated way of asking rhetorical questions.
As for Jaffe, well this is Jaffe's story. The play was originally called Napoleon of Broadway and I think perhaps they should've stuck with that name because it fits the film perfectly. Changing the name to Twentieth Century, after the train and a line that has a double meaning, it just ended up being more of a marketing ploy to me to show the film wasn't just starring John Barrymore, but also Lombard. In any case, Jaffe is every bit the dictator, the tyrant on page as he is on screen. Even still there are moments in which Barrymore takes it a bit further. Many of his lines are just straight forward without much direction. The great thing about it is that dialogue speaks for itself, makes it easier for Barrymore to act them out. So when he pauses and drags out a line for emphasis, it makes sense, especially considering the histrionics Jaffe tends to throw around.
The one thing that's interesting in the script though is that Jaffe is the one that discovers Lily is boarding the train and gets Webb and O'Malley to scheme with him to get her back. He further goes on to profess his love for her to O'Malley. While this is obviously implied by his actions, in the film Jaffe always makes it seem as if what he's really after is the star for his stage, his plays. I have to say, though, that it was a wise move to take this bit of dialogue out precisely because it's already implied. And because Jaffe does make it seem like it's more of a professional thing he's after, again, it's obvious it isn't, and Jaffe because even more complex and definitely more entertaining.
Even after reading the screenplay, I think that the film is more about Jaffe than the screenplay. There are more than a few bits of short scenes or lines between characters that were taken out. Perhaps this was due to time and I'm assuming that shooting with sequences or reels in mind where taken into account. But there was a short scene between Lily and George that was taken out, as well as some lines between O'Malley and Webb. Sometimes lines were merged or taken out of the omitted scene and put into a new scene. It works, but again, the finished film turns out to be more about Jaffe I think than about Lily and Jaffe.
Unlike some other scripts, Twentieth Century didn't take that long to read, and I have to say that it must be due to the great dialogue, which made it easy to go through. The great thing about the dialogue here is that it advances the story and not much stage direction is needed because it happens naturally. This isn't to say that there's no action written down, but instead that the dialogue facilitates the storytelling in a way that stage direction and action is only used when absolutely necessary. And above all, the dialogue is much funnier when you get to read it and listen to it at your desired volume in your head so that you can still understand it. The script is sharp, different from other comedies, and worth the read.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Jaffe, a screwball hero
There's something interesting about Oscar Jaffe as the screwball hero in Twentieth Century. He's not exactly like any hero seen thus far. He's certainly not Peter Warne or Jerry Warriner or Walter Burns; he doesn't really possess any of those characters' charms. There's nothing capricious about him that gives way to his scheming. Instead, Jaffe is an egocentric auteur who is manipulative and controlling, but pretty much a hysterical character. He's an atypical screwball hero, but with Jaffe we can see the beginnings of what the screwball hero and heroine would become.
While most screwball heroes that would grace the screen after Jaffe are the more scheming, trouble-making type, Jaffe has a more screwy side to him usually left for the screwball heroine. He's basically out there, full of himself, and quite particular about how things should be run on his stage. And John Barrymore plays him exceptionally well. He's given perhaps the best lines in the film and delivers them with such deadpan seriousness. This is how Jaffe is, a melodramatic fool who's so controlling that he pretty much keeps his main star locked away from the world for three years, lest she mingle with the riffraff.
Usually, though, the screwball heroine is so unaware of her zany traits' effect on others, and everything she does is motivated out of an innocence really or reasoned in a matter-of-fact way. The manipulative scheming is usually, although not always, left up to the screwball hero, a wise-cracking commoner. But in this film, Jaffe is more of a primadonna, outdoing Lily in any crying fit. The train ride is an excellent example, when both are wailing in her compartment, before an idea pops into each one's head and they stop. At the same time, he's the one who schemes to get Lily back under contract. With each scene, Jaffe gets a new idea how to get Lily back and at the very end comes up with the best one, to pretend he's dying, which Lily falls for. Jaffe is really two parts. It's almost as if the hero and heroine had been molded into Jaffe and not really taken apart so that the two can come back together, which is really what the screwball is about in the end, two parts of a whole equaling one.
Now, usually in a screwball comedy there's an attention to the classes, and you don't really see that in this film, as such the leads would normally be from different backgrounds. Here instead is the differences in theatre ranks with the egomaniacal director and the doe-eyed ingenue who turns into a spoiled diva. Normally, the one audiences would identify with more would be the smarter of the two, and in this case Lily should be the smarter one of the two, but really it's Jaffe. At the same time, Jaffe can't win Lily over at the bat of an eye, and this is because she is too smart for him. So again, there seems to be some mixing of what would be clear indicators of who's the stronger lead here. And while both can be strong leads, only one can be at the same time or else we have an imbalance.
In the end, I find it interesting that Jaffe is the most interesting character out of Twentieth Century and he has what I think are both the hero and the heroine in him. And while Lily struggles to get out on top, she's always reduced to tears or a screaming fit. I don't think we're meant to like her, but if we like Jaffe in spite of his egotism, surely we want him to end up with someone who'll give him hell for it and won't cry at every manipulative soliloquy. No, I'd rather see Jaffe end up alone, and no wonder because it seems like he's got the yin and yang in him.
While most screwball heroes that would grace the screen after Jaffe are the more scheming, trouble-making type, Jaffe has a more screwy side to him usually left for the screwball heroine. He's basically out there, full of himself, and quite particular about how things should be run on his stage. And John Barrymore plays him exceptionally well. He's given perhaps the best lines in the film and delivers them with such deadpan seriousness. This is how Jaffe is, a melodramatic fool who's so controlling that he pretty much keeps his main star locked away from the world for three years, lest she mingle with the riffraff.
Usually, though, the screwball heroine is so unaware of her zany traits' effect on others, and everything she does is motivated out of an innocence really or reasoned in a matter-of-fact way. The manipulative scheming is usually, although not always, left up to the screwball hero, a wise-cracking commoner. But in this film, Jaffe is more of a primadonna, outdoing Lily in any crying fit. The train ride is an excellent example, when both are wailing in her compartment, before an idea pops into each one's head and they stop. At the same time, he's the one who schemes to get Lily back under contract. With each scene, Jaffe gets a new idea how to get Lily back and at the very end comes up with the best one, to pretend he's dying, which Lily falls for. Jaffe is really two parts. It's almost as if the hero and heroine had been molded into Jaffe and not really taken apart so that the two can come back together, which is really what the screwball is about in the end, two parts of a whole equaling one.
Now, usually in a screwball comedy there's an attention to the classes, and you don't really see that in this film, as such the leads would normally be from different backgrounds. Here instead is the differences in theatre ranks with the egomaniacal director and the doe-eyed ingenue who turns into a spoiled diva. Normally, the one audiences would identify with more would be the smarter of the two, and in this case Lily should be the smarter one of the two, but really it's Jaffe. At the same time, Jaffe can't win Lily over at the bat of an eye, and this is because she is too smart for him. So again, there seems to be some mixing of what would be clear indicators of who's the stronger lead here. And while both can be strong leads, only one can be at the same time or else we have an imbalance.
In the end, I find it interesting that Jaffe is the most interesting character out of Twentieth Century and he has what I think are both the hero and the heroine in him. And while Lily struggles to get out on top, she's always reduced to tears or a screaming fit. I don't think we're meant to like her, but if we like Jaffe in spite of his egotism, surely we want him to end up with someone who'll give him hell for it and won't cry at every manipulative soliloquy. No, I'd rather see Jaffe end up alone, and no wonder because it seems like he's got the yin and yang in him.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Screwball origins
Watching Twentieth Century more carefully proved to be much more enjoying in the end. There's something about this film that makes it difficult for me to keep interested. But the funny thing is that taking in each scene and making notes I was able to fully grasp the story and notice things I hadn't really paid attention to before. I was also able to see why I didn't like certain aspects of the film or its structure. The best explanation I have for what I see as imperfection of a screwball comedy is that the screwball was still developing.
I believe this film, along with It Happened One Night, is described as one of the first screwball comedies. I actually think, especially after several viewings, that Trouble in Paradise should get a mention as well. But there are some that consider Twentieth Century to be one of the first if not the first screwball comedy. That being said, I remember when I first watched Trouble in Paradise how incredibly slow I found it. I think one of the problems with Twentieth Century is that the pacing isn't as quick as the genre demands. Of course, there are no standards set before since the genre developed in reaction to the Hays Code, which didn't go into effect until the latter part of 1934, after this film premiered.
The pacing problem, as I've already mentioned, is due largely to the fact that too much focus is placed on Jaffe in the beginning of the film. Understandably so, Jaffe is the lead, the most entertaining character, and the one whom your sympathies lie with. Normally, if I'm entertained, I can forgive things like not revealing a full premise right away, but unfortunately this is difficult because of the sound. I wonder if the film would improve with a soundtrack or even a better audio track. But again, the pacing needs to be established straight away, and while the tone is set from the beginning, something always seems off because the story doesn't really move along; it just stays in the theatre rehearsal for almost 16 minutes, all to showcase Jaffe's eccentricity.
Then there's Lily Garland, who is perhaps the biggest flaw in this film. Carole Lombard doesn't do a bad job. In fact, in a scene at her apartment, she starts making faces of people, and you see immediately the screwball queen there. The problem lies with Lily; you can't stand her. The whole point with a screwball couple is that they can't live with one another, but it doesn't matter because they belong together and you root for them because you like them in spite of their zaniness. At first, Lily seems like the young ingenue you'd expect, but after three years Lily's frustration is evident and you understand it. But slowly, and most especially during the train ride and on, you see the true spoiled brat that Lily has become, and she isn't charming at all. This isn't Irene Bullock, who's clear stupidity is so endearing in a way you can't explain. This is Cordelia, the Park Avenue Brat you want Godfrey to make cry.
While you certainly can agree in the end that Lily and Jaffe deserve one another, it's hard to enjoy a film in which one half is just plain annoying. John Barrymore as Jaffe is truly a delight to watch. He morphs into different characters and takes on voices of other characters so seamlessly. But as Jaffe he's truly entertaining to watch. And only because he wants Lily will you accept this union in the end, but really, if he doesn't get her in the end, it's okay.
I think a lot of the things that make a film good happen to late in the film. There should've been ample opportunity to showcase Jaffe's character throughout the film without needing to have the first 16 minutes of him interacting with the cast and crew. The film should've started three years later and then with Lily leaving Jaffe for Hollywood. The stakes are drawn high when Jaffe is in ruin and close to losing his theatre. The race for him to get Lily to sign on to another play is important, but again, it happens too late. There's the distraction with the con-artist who sticks Repent stickers all over the train, and he proves vital in the end, but his storyline isn't as entertaining, at least not to me. These are things that are all important to the screwball but needed more refinement.
Finally, the dialogue is the single greatest thing, well along with Barrymore, that comes out of this film. And a lot of it is hard to follow, which I blame on the audio track of my copy of the film. When I sat down to rewatch this, I found myself laughing even more at some of the lines that had just gone over me before. But the dialogue helps set the pace and tone, and if the film doesn't drag, as I've said before, it's due to the dialogue. None of this is more evident than near the end of the film, when Jaffe pretends his dying and cons Lily into signing a contract. There's so much fast talk going on here and you feel like you're in a whirlwind and before you know it, Lily belongs to Jaffe all over again. That feeling of "what happened" is exactly the feeling screwball comedies leave in the end, and this film sets that bar for future screwballs.
Overall, I think I was able to fully understand why I don't love this film as much as I want to, and the bottom line is that it isn't perfect. The leads need polishing, the pace needs to be quickened, the premise needs faster setting up, but then there are other things like dialogue and super fast denouements that show clearly how Twentieth Century is a forerunner to the screwball comedy. And for this reason, it's good to watch to see how the genre evolves from here.
I believe this film, along with It Happened One Night, is described as one of the first screwball comedies. I actually think, especially after several viewings, that Trouble in Paradise should get a mention as well. But there are some that consider Twentieth Century to be one of the first if not the first screwball comedy. That being said, I remember when I first watched Trouble in Paradise how incredibly slow I found it. I think one of the problems with Twentieth Century is that the pacing isn't as quick as the genre demands. Of course, there are no standards set before since the genre developed in reaction to the Hays Code, which didn't go into effect until the latter part of 1934, after this film premiered.
The pacing problem, as I've already mentioned, is due largely to the fact that too much focus is placed on Jaffe in the beginning of the film. Understandably so, Jaffe is the lead, the most entertaining character, and the one whom your sympathies lie with. Normally, if I'm entertained, I can forgive things like not revealing a full premise right away, but unfortunately this is difficult because of the sound. I wonder if the film would improve with a soundtrack or even a better audio track. But again, the pacing needs to be established straight away, and while the tone is set from the beginning, something always seems off because the story doesn't really move along; it just stays in the theatre rehearsal for almost 16 minutes, all to showcase Jaffe's eccentricity.
Then there's Lily Garland, who is perhaps the biggest flaw in this film. Carole Lombard doesn't do a bad job. In fact, in a scene at her apartment, she starts making faces of people, and you see immediately the screwball queen there. The problem lies with Lily; you can't stand her. The whole point with a screwball couple is that they can't live with one another, but it doesn't matter because they belong together and you root for them because you like them in spite of their zaniness. At first, Lily seems like the young ingenue you'd expect, but after three years Lily's frustration is evident and you understand it. But slowly, and most especially during the train ride and on, you see the true spoiled brat that Lily has become, and she isn't charming at all. This isn't Irene Bullock, who's clear stupidity is so endearing in a way you can't explain. This is Cordelia, the Park Avenue Brat you want Godfrey to make cry.
While you certainly can agree in the end that Lily and Jaffe deserve one another, it's hard to enjoy a film in which one half is just plain annoying. John Barrymore as Jaffe is truly a delight to watch. He morphs into different characters and takes on voices of other characters so seamlessly. But as Jaffe he's truly entertaining to watch. And only because he wants Lily will you accept this union in the end, but really, if he doesn't get her in the end, it's okay.
I think a lot of the things that make a film good happen to late in the film. There should've been ample opportunity to showcase Jaffe's character throughout the film without needing to have the first 16 minutes of him interacting with the cast and crew. The film should've started three years later and then with Lily leaving Jaffe for Hollywood. The stakes are drawn high when Jaffe is in ruin and close to losing his theatre. The race for him to get Lily to sign on to another play is important, but again, it happens too late. There's the distraction with the con-artist who sticks Repent stickers all over the train, and he proves vital in the end, but his storyline isn't as entertaining, at least not to me. These are things that are all important to the screwball but needed more refinement.
Finally, the dialogue is the single greatest thing, well along with Barrymore, that comes out of this film. And a lot of it is hard to follow, which I blame on the audio track of my copy of the film. When I sat down to rewatch this, I found myself laughing even more at some of the lines that had just gone over me before. But the dialogue helps set the pace and tone, and if the film doesn't drag, as I've said before, it's due to the dialogue. None of this is more evident than near the end of the film, when Jaffe pretends his dying and cons Lily into signing a contract. There's so much fast talk going on here and you feel like you're in a whirlwind and before you know it, Lily belongs to Jaffe all over again. That feeling of "what happened" is exactly the feeling screwball comedies leave in the end, and this film sets that bar for future screwballs.
Overall, I think I was able to fully understand why I don't love this film as much as I want to, and the bottom line is that it isn't perfect. The leads need polishing, the pace needs to be quickened, the premise needs faster setting up, but then there are other things like dialogue and super fast denouements that show clearly how Twentieth Century is a forerunner to the screwball comedy. And for this reason, it's good to watch to see how the genre evolves from here.
Monday, November 26, 2012
At the Jaffe Theatre
Like most opening scenes, Twentieth Century establishes its tone fairly quickly with its dialogue--the best lines coming from the supporting cast. But while it drags a bit in pace, takes longer than what I'd like to introduce its leads, when you finally get to see John Barrymore in his grandiosity, it's truly worth the wait. Even still, it could've moved along faster and have established its plot earlier on.
This is perhaps the first screwball comedy that I've watched this year that did not establish its conflict in the opening sequence, at least I didn't think so. In the opening sequence you do see the circumstances and proper introductions to the characters and what may come of it, but an actual outright, this is what the film is going to be about, no. You look at the sequence that follows, an extension that blends into the debut performance of Carole Lombard's Lily Garland, and even then you don't really get the conflict. It isn't until the following scene that you get a notion of Lily's life as Jaffe's muse and actress, and that she has grown tired of it and wants out.
What conflict is introduced in the opening scene? Jaffe is an eccentric artist who's discovered an ingenue in Mildred Plotka, whom he has now renamed Lily Garland. Unfortunately, Lily cannot act, but nevertheless Jaffe gets the performance he wants out of her. Barrymore is great as Jaffe. Usually one thinks of Lombard as the great screwball queen, but she's really overshadowed by Barrymore here. To be fair, Lombard isn't given much in this opening, except an eager girl wanting to be an actress. It's Barrymore though who brings on the laughs here. He's first introduced in his office on the floor with a giant feather quill, which he is using to write. When he comes down to the stage to interact with the crew and players, you get a sense of the real diva he is.
While Roscoe Karns says some great lines, it's Barrymore who has the best ones. When he turns to Walter Connolly and vanishes him from his sight, he tells him, "I'm closing the iron door on you." And as he rushes Connolly off stage he shouts back not to send his fat wife after him. Before beginning the rehearsal, he tells each and everyone on stage that no matter what happens, no matter he says from here on out, "I love each and every one of you." When he starts a scene with the ringing of the doorbell, he tingalingalings like a patient but particular old man. He's truly one to watch here. So while there aren't any pratfalls or slapstick, the dialogue definitely sets the tone here and you know that this is going to be a funny film. This dialogue, if anything, allows the movie to not completely drag along.
Unfortunately, because there is so much focus on Jaffe's character, and understandably so, the pacing suffers, and so the opening sequence comes and go, and we still don't know how exactly the film will go forward. You get a sense that it's going to be about Jaffe and Lily, but not much else, just that he's particular and he's training his newfound discovery. Eventually you do get to the conflict later on in the film, but the premise is still a bit too vague in the beginning.
If there's one standout thing about the opening sequence in Twentieth Century it's John Barrymore. He's given the best lines and he's the most entertaining to watch. There's great dialogue that sets the tone and helps speed up the storyline, although too much focus on Barrymore's Jaffe keeps the opening sequence lagging a bit without really establishing the true premise of the film. While Carole Lombard is introduced here, she's not given much until later on in the film. Overall though, based on Barrymore's performance, it makes you want to keep watching to see what exactly Jaffe is going to get himself mixed up in.
This is perhaps the first screwball comedy that I've watched this year that did not establish its conflict in the opening sequence, at least I didn't think so. In the opening sequence you do see the circumstances and proper introductions to the characters and what may come of it, but an actual outright, this is what the film is going to be about, no. You look at the sequence that follows, an extension that blends into the debut performance of Carole Lombard's Lily Garland, and even then you don't really get the conflict. It isn't until the following scene that you get a notion of Lily's life as Jaffe's muse and actress, and that she has grown tired of it and wants out.
What conflict is introduced in the opening scene? Jaffe is an eccentric artist who's discovered an ingenue in Mildred Plotka, whom he has now renamed Lily Garland. Unfortunately, Lily cannot act, but nevertheless Jaffe gets the performance he wants out of her. Barrymore is great as Jaffe. Usually one thinks of Lombard as the great screwball queen, but she's really overshadowed by Barrymore here. To be fair, Lombard isn't given much in this opening, except an eager girl wanting to be an actress. It's Barrymore though who brings on the laughs here. He's first introduced in his office on the floor with a giant feather quill, which he is using to write. When he comes down to the stage to interact with the crew and players, you get a sense of the real diva he is.
While Roscoe Karns says some great lines, it's Barrymore who has the best ones. When he turns to Walter Connolly and vanishes him from his sight, he tells him, "I'm closing the iron door on you." And as he rushes Connolly off stage he shouts back not to send his fat wife after him. Before beginning the rehearsal, he tells each and everyone on stage that no matter what happens, no matter he says from here on out, "I love each and every one of you." When he starts a scene with the ringing of the doorbell, he tingalingalings like a patient but particular old man. He's truly one to watch here. So while there aren't any pratfalls or slapstick, the dialogue definitely sets the tone here and you know that this is going to be a funny film. This dialogue, if anything, allows the movie to not completely drag along.
Unfortunately, because there is so much focus on Jaffe's character, and understandably so, the pacing suffers, and so the opening sequence comes and go, and we still don't know how exactly the film will go forward. You get a sense that it's going to be about Jaffe and Lily, but not much else, just that he's particular and he's training his newfound discovery. Eventually you do get to the conflict later on in the film, but the premise is still a bit too vague in the beginning.
If there's one standout thing about the opening sequence in Twentieth Century it's John Barrymore. He's given the best lines and he's the most entertaining to watch. There's great dialogue that sets the tone and helps speed up the storyline, although too much focus on Barrymore's Jaffe keeps the opening sequence lagging a bit without really establishing the true premise of the film. While Carole Lombard is introduced here, she's not given much until later on in the film. Overall though, based on Barrymore's performance, it makes you want to keep watching to see what exactly Jaffe is going to get himself mixed up in.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Twentieth Century (1934)
I had seen this once before and I have to admit, this wasn’t a favorite. I wanted to like it for having John Barrymore and Carole Lombard, plus it was directed by Howard Hawks. Why shouldn’t I like it? Twentieth Century is a funny film if you can get past Lombard’s shrieking and the lack of a quick pace. It isn’t to say that the film drags on but at times, there’s only so much you can take. But when I could tune out the things I didn’t enjoy, I found some great lines and a funny Barrymore. I simply wish it could’ve sped up a bit and brought down the whining. In short, it’s still not a favorite, but I didn’t dislike it as much as I did the first time.
I really went into with an open mind and wanting to enjoy it—perhaps the last time I had seen a bad print of it—but while I did find the dialogue funny, I still wasn’t as engaged as I should have been.
Good things about this film? John Barrymore is absolutely wonderful here. He has perhaps the best lines and performs the role of Oscar exactly how you would think an “artist” would behave. Carole Lombard is good at times as well, mostly in the beginning of the film when she quarrels with Barrymore of him suffocating her. The supporting cast is also outstanding. It’s nice to see Walter Connolly, who always amazes me in every film I see him, and Roscoe Karns as the comic relief here. And again, the dialogue, when it can be made out, is really very funny. This isn’t surprising since it’s based on a play by Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur. Overall, the film has strong points.
Just as well, there are some weaknesses in the film, the big one being Lombard’s shrieking and whining. It might be fairer to point out that the problem really lies within the sound of the film, though. A lot of the dialogue, I felt, is sometimes drowned out by lack of a clear audio track. This makes it hard to follow the story and soon I lost interest, particularly in the train ride. This is also where Lombard’s shrieking begins and instead of it being funny it just turns out to be irritating. You wonder how is it that the queen of screwball could’ve gotten it so wrong. All this drags the film and really it isn’t very long at all so it’s a bit surprising.
I think with a few more viewings that Twentieth Century could grow on me. I think because it is a film from 1934 that perhaps that's why it doesn't run as fast as an average screwball comedy. But if you focus on the good parts, such as Barrymore, the dialogue, the supporting cast, you walk away appreciating the film and especially the effort put into the script.
I really went into with an open mind and wanting to enjoy it—perhaps the last time I had seen a bad print of it—but while I did find the dialogue funny, I still wasn’t as engaged as I should have been.
Good things about this film? John Barrymore is absolutely wonderful here. He has perhaps the best lines and performs the role of Oscar exactly how you would think an “artist” would behave. Carole Lombard is good at times as well, mostly in the beginning of the film when she quarrels with Barrymore of him suffocating her. The supporting cast is also outstanding. It’s nice to see Walter Connolly, who always amazes me in every film I see him, and Roscoe Karns as the comic relief here. And again, the dialogue, when it can be made out, is really very funny. This isn’t surprising since it’s based on a play by Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur. Overall, the film has strong points.
Just as well, there are some weaknesses in the film, the big one being Lombard’s shrieking and whining. It might be fairer to point out that the problem really lies within the sound of the film, though. A lot of the dialogue, I felt, is sometimes drowned out by lack of a clear audio track. This makes it hard to follow the story and soon I lost interest, particularly in the train ride. This is also where Lombard’s shrieking begins and instead of it being funny it just turns out to be irritating. You wonder how is it that the queen of screwball could’ve gotten it so wrong. All this drags the film and really it isn’t very long at all so it’s a bit surprising.
I think with a few more viewings that Twentieth Century could grow on me. I think because it is a film from 1934 that perhaps that's why it doesn't run as fast as an average screwball comedy. But if you focus on the good parts, such as Barrymore, the dialogue, the supporting cast, you walk away appreciating the film and especially the effort put into the script.