Showing posts with label reginald denny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reginald denny. Show all posts

Monday, 22 May 2023

Mubi Monday: Of Human Bondage (1934)

A quintessentially British tale of unrequited love, Of Human Bondage starts off feeling a bit ridiculous and unbelievable before becoming easier and easier to find completely plausible. It’s odd, and may seem paradoxical, but it is easier to accept the blinkered vision of the lead character as he is treated worse and worse by the woman he has fallen in love with.

Leslie Howard plays Philip, a young man who seems destined to let his club foot affect his confidence and self-worth. He is immediately attracted to waitress Mildred (Bette Davis) when he meets her in a tearoom, but the attraction isn’t mutual. Mildred is cold and hostile, although she eventually agrees to date Philip. Things ultimately don’t work out between the pair, but Philip holds out hope that their time may come later. This one notion, this flame he keeps alight, affects Philip throughout the entire duration of Mildred’s life, making him the person she keeps turning to when she experiences yet another downturn in her fortunes.

Based on a novel by W. Somerset Maugham (which I haven’t read, sorry), this is a film that manages to feel both traditional, and a bit creaky in places, and yet also quite modern and depressingly timeless. It will resonate with anyone who has watched a friend get themselves into a bad situation because of who they have fallen in love with, and this has happened to both men and women throughout history. 

Adapted for the screen by Lester Cohen, with some uncredited work by Ann Coleman (apparently), and directed by John Cromwell, Of Human Bondage is a brilliant slice of well-presented misery. Viewers first meet Philip when he is being told that he will never amount to anything as an artist, for example, but the death of that dream is followed by a surprisingly easy move into the kind of education that leads to becoming a doctor.

Howard is great in his role, a typical British gentleman from this time (for better or worse), and he manages to say a hell of a lot with the briefest of expressions that occasionally belie his well-chosen words. Davis is the star though, delivering a performance full of cold spite, one that feels as if it is built around the core of every classic Davis performance, and managing to do it with a surprisingly decent cockney accent. Kay Johnson and Frances Dee are both very enjoyable, playing two other women who might make our main character happy, if he could only get Mildred out of his mind, Reginald Denny is a fairly unhelpful friend, and Reginald Owen manages to steal a couple of scenes as an elderly gentleman who is helped by Philip, and is able to do much more than just return the favour.

It might trip too easily from one major moment to the next, and it’s obviously also filtered through the morality of the 1930s, but Of Human Bondage excels throughout, largely thanks to the cast. Mildred  may be someone you want to boo and hiss at, like a pantomime villain, but she’s equally someone you can still somehow believe. There’s a harsh truth at the heart of this, one that underlines every scene with a bittersweet authenticity. We might not want to believe it, but there are so many examples in the real world around us.

8/10

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Friday, 26 November 2021

Noir-vember: Rebecca (1940)

Although it doesn't really hold the notoriety nowadays that the other Alfred Hitchcock and Daphne Du Maurier "collaboration", The Birds, manages to retain, Rebecca is still a fantastic work, showing the director already comfortable in mixing dark subject matter with moments of levity and making the most of a talented cast.

Joan Fontaine plays a young woman who finds herself in the enviable position of becoming Mrs. de Winter, the wife of one 'Maxim' de Winter (Laurence Olivier). And that is when she starts to become more and more aware of Rebecca, the former Mrs. de Winter who passed away some time ago. Whether or not she can thrive under such a shadow becomes the focus of this movie for much of the middle act, with criticism coming from a houskeeper, Mrs. Danvers (Judith Anderson), and Rebecca's cousin, Jack Favell (George Sanders). There's more to consider, however, including the exact circumstances of Rebecca's death.

Written for the screen by Robert E. Sherwood and Joan Harrison, the former having a very varied filmography that includes both The Best Years Of Our Lives and The Bishop's Wife as highlights and the latter working with Hitchcock on about five of his features from this era, what you get here is something that often feels like a straightforward drama about a young woman trying to assert herself in a new world that her marriage has forced her to enter. Sure, you get the kind of temperamental husband and brooding nature that implies a trip into Jane Eyre territory, but the situations depicted remain much more grounded and identifiable for anyone who has found themselves the newcomer in any household/family situation. Things are turned around in the third act, and it's interesting to see that when the pressure really starts to mount is when Fontaine's character shows how strong she really is.

Both Fontaine and Olivier are very enjoyable in the lead roles, even if the latter speaks in that wonderfully crisp and clipped "proper English" that stops the dialogue feeling free-flowing and natural (a quality many British actors had during this time). The two feel like an unlikely, but strangely compatible, match. Anderson cuts an intimidating figure, although she always remains as civil as she needs to be when her employer is within earshot. Then you have Sanders. He doesn't appear until close to the halfway mark, but his presence is a breath of fresh air. I maintain that Sanders is arguably the greatest cinematic cad of all time and here's another performance that doesn't do a thing to dissuade me of that notion. 

While easy to see why this one remains a highly-regarded classic from yesteryear, it's also easy to see why it might fail to please some people. It squanders any potential to go full gothic, which is a great shame, it lacks any of the incredibly tense and macabre set-pieces that Hitchcock would become most famous for, and the resolution is just a bit too neat and easy, in a way that makes you forget the main characters were ever in any trouble.

Despite those aspects that could be viewed as failings, I still really enjoyed this. I'd even go so far as to say that is the best Hitchcock adaptation of a Du Maurier tale. It just holds up as a more completely satisfying feature film, and doesn't need the gimmick of feathered friends becoming feathered foes. Yep, I stand by what I just said. And one day I hope to visit Manderley again.

8/10

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