Watchingwell 

                                                                              

                                                             Curated classic films

Never Too Late

            Just in time to have missed Hispanic Heritage Month, here are some classic films that feature actors that have Latino roots that you may not know. I have selected 10 actors and films that showcase their careers.

Gilbert Roland     

 had a particularly long career. Born in Chihuahua, Mexico, after he and his parents came to the US, he worked in films from the early 20s to 1982. There were many films in which he played the romantic Latin or the macho cowboy in an equally convincing manner. He played the Cisco Kid in six films.  He was the romantic interest opposite Jane Russell in a musical (The French Line, 1953).  But my favorite performance was in the film, We Were Strangers (1949), about a coup d’etat against the president of Cuba.  Co-starring John Garfield, Jennifer Jones, and Pedro Amendariz (who we will discuss later). John Huston directs a taut, well-plotted thriller.

 

Pedro Armendáriz       

 was born in a suburb of Mexico City and moved with his parents to Texas.  He attended college in San Luis Obispo, California, where he studied business and journalism.  After graduating, he returned to Mexico City and found various jobs until he was discovered by director, Miguel Zacarias. 

Along with Dolores Del Rio (who we will discuss later) and Emilio Fernandez, Armendáriz made many of the greatest films in the so-called Mexican Cinema Golden Era. He became an international star and was a favorite of director, John Ford.  Which is why he is probably best known to American audiences in Three Godfathers (1948), which is my favorite western, and I don’t really like westerns. Photographed by Winton Hoch, it is my favorite to look at, even though all of John Ford’s films have an unmatched eye for telling the story with visual richness.  This is Ford’s first western in color and he is just as impressive as in black and white.

This is also some of the best acting that Amendariz and co-star John Wayne do in the Ford body of work, and one in which Amendariz is genuinely an equal star.

Cesar Romero 

was born to Cuban parents in New York City. He appeared on Broadway and films in the thirties – he was a suspect in The Thin Man (1936), and continued a long film career as a suave Latin lover or sinister foreigner until he transitioned into television. Most TV viewers of a certain age will know Romero as the Joker of Batman fame.

My favorite is a delightful musical from 1942, Springtime in the Rockies. Directed by Irving Cummings, the Canadian Rockies are the backdrop for dancer, Betty Grable, who leaves womanizing partner, John Payne, for her old partner, Cesar Romero. Payne attempts to win her back, but his new secretary, Carmen Miranda (who we will discuss later) complicates things. Everyone looks terrific – and there’s music!

Thomas Gomez

was born in New York City to parents who had emigrated from Spain. After graduating from high school, he answered an ad for a traveling theater group and eventually developed the skills to get parts on Broadway. In 1942 he got his first film role as the bad guy in Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of Terror. His distinctive voice and acting skills (he was the first Spanish-American to be nominated for an Academy Award for the 1947 film, Ride the Pink Horse) were in demand throughout a long career that extended into television. My recommendation: Force of Evil (1948), co-starring John Garfield as his lawyer brother who has decided to lend his skill to the mob. The mob wants to take over all the numbers games in New York and Gomez is one that wants to remain independent. The scenes between the brothers are striking in the authenticity of the dialog, written and directed by Abraham Polonsky, who, soon after was blacklisted, ironically.

Ricardo Montalban

was born in Mexico City to Spanish immigrants, but left as a teen to live with his older brother in Los Angeles. After graduating from Fairfax High School, he and his brother left for New York where Ricardo won a bit part in a play with Tallulah Bankhead. He managed to land some other roles when he had to return to Mexico where his mother was ill. There he began to get some roles in Mexican film when he attracted the attention of MGM. He moved back to Los Angeles and began a film career as a Latin lover in musicals like Fiesta (1947) and On an Island with You (1949), both with Esther Williams, and one actually called Latin Lovers (1953) with Lana Turner. Although he kept working steadily in film, he was usually restricted to ethnic roles, so he returned to theater and found good variety in television. Depending on your tastes, you are probably most familiar with him in the role of Mr. Roarke in Fantasy Island or arch-villain, Khan in StarTrek films.

One film that was the exception to the usual type of role Montalban was offered was Border Incident (1949), a film noir directed by Anthony Mann. Co-starring George Murphy as a US border agent, who, with Montalban’s Mexican counterpart, is involved in catching the human smugglers who are ruthless in their treatment of the illegals who are coming for farm-working jobs.

Dolores Del Rio 

was from an aristocratic Mexican family and married a wealthy man with whom she lived the life of a socialite. The couple made the acquaintance of Hollywood producer/director, Edwin Carewe, who invited them to Hollywood. Dolores was a great beauty and found success in several silent films, while her husband turned to screenwriting. The marriage didn’t last, but her career did, through the introduction of sound, and an unproductive period which sent her back to Mexico and a reborn career as part of Mexico’s “Golden Age” of cinema. She even revived her Hollywood career, working in film and television into her seventies. Even though I appreciate her work in later films like Cheyenne Autumn (1964) and The Children of Sanchez (1978), and don’t want to appear ageist, my favorite is the film in which I first saw her, Flying Down to Rio (1933). She was the star, top-billed with co-star, Gene Raymond. Unfortunately, the first pairing of Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire was the most impressive to the audience.

Lupe Vélez 

wanted to be a champion roller skater when she was a child, but went to work to earn money for her family. Tired of her salesgirl job, her mature appearance and vivacious personality got her a start on the Mexican stage at the age of 16. Three years later she found her way to Hollywood where she was cast in several dramatic films, before she made Hot Pepper (1933) and realized she was perfect for comedy. In 1934 she made three comedies and the films were so successful that the studio created a character named Carmelita Lindsay, The Mexican Spitfire, in several films about her madcap adventures: Mexican Spitfire Out West (1940), The Mexican Spitfire’s Baby (1941), Mexican Spitfire at Sea (1942), and Mexican Spitfire’s Blessed Event (1943). She made a successful Mexican version of Naná in 1944 and another film in Hollywood, Lady’s Day (1943), but there were to be no more. Suffering through several failed romances, she committed suicide in December 1944, at the age of 36. The original, Mexican Spitfire (1940), directed by Leslie Goodwins, is a ridiculous romp that gives you a sense of her comedy skills and why she was so popular with audiences.

 

 

Raquel Torres    

was born in Mexico and began a film career at the age of 19. She appeared in several films in the late twenties and thirties, but the only one I recommend is Duck Soup (1933) where she played the femme fatale trying to sabotage the Marx Brothers. This is a must-see film, directed by Leo McCarey, and a treat to see the sexy Raquel, who retired in 1935.

Maria Montez 

was born in the Dominican Republic, educated in Europe, and did some modeling while attempting to start a career on the stage.  Universal Studios was interested in her exotic looks for its series of mostly, low-budget, escapist adventures.  Thus began a career where Maria was the seductively-dressed female in the following titles:  Raiders of the Desert (1941), South of Tahiti (1941), Arabian Nights (1942), White Savage (1943), Cobra Woman (1944), Sudan (1945). Often, she was paired with Jon Hall, who was her co-star in my recommendation, Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves from 1944, a fun, colorful Arabian Nights tale, a kind of Robin Hood in Baghdad, directed by Arthur Lubin.

 

 Carmen Miranda  

                       

  was born in Portugal, but early  in her life, her family moved to Brazil. She got her start as a singer on the radio and won a recording contract with RCA. She became such a big star that she was cast in a movie musical and several more dramatic roles in Brazil. She did some work on Broadway and found her way to Hollywood in 1940 for Down Argentine Way

with Betty Grable and Don Ameche. American audiences loved her. By the time she made That Night in Rio (1941) with Alice Faye and Don Ameche, and Weekend in Havana (1941) Alice Faye and John Payne, she was famous enough to be made into a cartoon figure, complete with fruit hat. Springtime in the Rockies (1942) with John Payne and Betty Grable and Cesar Romero was another of these fun musicals in which you get a good dose of Carmen’s act, but there is one that features, beside Alice Faye, Benny Goodman and his orchestra. The film is The Gang’s All Here from 1943, directed by Busby Berkeley, a man who knows his way around a musical.

Bananas!

 

  

Watchingwell 

                                                                              

                                                             Curated classic films

ROM COMS, ANYONE? 

      Always ready for a laugh, now more than ever, I wonder if you, dear readers, are familiar with these somewhat overlooked and under-appreciated romantic comedies from the Golden Age.

 

     For years, I appreciated Ginger Rogers only for her dancing partnership with Fred Astaire.  But, at this point, I can see that she was a very engaging personality in non-musical roles as well. In a past post, I mentioned her playing opposite William Powell in a stylish mystery (Star of Midnight).  In Lucky Partners (1940), she is paired with Ronald Coleman in one of his rare comedy roles. In this story, Coleman is an eccentric artist, who is living a modest life in Ginger’s neighborhood.  He really is quite a successful artist, but keeps that a secret when he meets Ginger and persuades her to invest in half of a sweepstakes ticket with him.  Ginger is seriously engaged to Jack Carson, who objects to the terms of the partnership:  if they win, Ginger must go on a trip with Coleman to see the world before she settles down in married bliss. Predictably, they win. You can guess what complications ensue. Directed by Lewis Milestone.

 

     

      Although this is also a comedy, Ronald Coleman plays a very sober and principled judge in the George Stevens film, Talk of the Town (1942). He shares star billing with Cary Grant and Jean Arthur. Grant plays a wrongly accused character who is hiding out in Jean Arthur’s house, which she is renting out to Judge Ronald Coleman, who is there to write a book. After he is unable to continue hiding, Grant forms a somewhat congenial relationship with the judge, pretending to be the gardener. Things get a little sticky when the judge is told he is being nominated for the Supreme Court, and at the same time discovers Grant’s real identity.  With loyalty to both men, Jean Arthur runs interference, and, of course, inspires romantic notions.

      

      Jean Arthur is a favorite star in many well-known comedies of the era, but If You Could Only Cook (1935) is not so well-known.  Co-starring Herbert Marshall and Leo Carillo, Arthur is unemployed and Marshall is the head of an automobile company who has just walked out of a board meeting in a huff.  They meet on a park bench where Arthur is reading the want ads and complaining that there are many ads for couples.  In an inspired moment, she asks Marshall, who she assumes is also unemployed, if he could pose as a butler and apply for a job with her as the cook.  He agrees, on a lark, and they begin work for gangster, Leo Carillo.  If your only experience with Carillo is as Pancho in the Cisco Kid series, you will be pleasantly surprised by his comedy skills. Also starring Lionel Stander with some great lines as Carillo’s suspicious sidekick.  Directed by William A. Seiter.

 

       A similar plot is the vehicle for Paulette Goddard and Fred MacMurray in Standing Room Only (1944). Goddard poses as a secretary when she overhears that the manager, MacMurray, needs one to take to Washington, D.C., where he will be trying to secure a government contract.  But as a secretary she is so incompetent that she cancels their hotel rooms in wartime Washington because she says they were too small. Not able to secure accommodations anywhere else, she finds them rooms in a private home -- as butler and cook for Roland Young and Anne Revere. Revere is great as a major in an organization aiding the war effort, working with paratroopers, and Young is bored with managing the household and has a roving eye. MacMurray is engaged to Hillary Brooke, the daughter of the boss, Edward Arnold. Of course, the moment arrives when they are the dinner guests and much laughter is produced by the ensuing difficulties.  The script is clever and the direction by Sidney Lanfield is crisp, but, in my opinion, it's all about the stars.  Paulette Goddard and Fred MacMurray are just delightful together.

 

 

       Another actress with great comedy skills, Carole Lombard starred in some iconic roles. One film that may not be so well-known is the 1934 farce, Twentieth Century.  Directed by Howard Hawks and written for the screen by the combo of Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur, the same group that went on to make one of my favorite all-time comedies, His Girl Friday from 1940. This is an influential screwball comedy, co-starring a manic John Barrymore as Oscar Jaffe, a great Broadway producer who has suffered some failures and is in need of a hit. Lombard is a former protégé, and lover, Lily Garland, who has run to Hollywood to escape his controlling and jealous obsessions, and who is now an actress of such stature that she could singlehandedly reverse Jaffe’s fortunes. When Jaffe finds out they will both be taking the train, the 20^th Century Limited, from Chicago to New York, he plans to use the trip to convince her to star in his new play. It’s a wild ride and both actors play their parts to the outrageous level. Hilarious.

 

         Edward G. Robinson had an enviable film career as the quintessential tough guy-gangster and a favorite of impressionists (the show biz genre, not the painting style). Few people realize how skilled he was in comedy roles.  When I came across A Slight Case of Murder (1938) on some late-night movie channel, I couldn’t believe it was not better known. Based on a Damon Runyan tale, Robinson stars as Remy Marco, bootlegger turned legit, but not transformed enough that he is happy that his just-returned-from-finishing-school daughter wants to marry a state trooper – a cop!  Meanwhile, some acquaintances from the old days have pulled off a robbery of local bookies’ cash and somehow it is stashed in Remy’s house, and some unreformed types come looking for it.  Oh, and in a bid for respectability Remy has taken in a teenaged delinquent (Dead-End kid, Bobby Jordan), who turns out to be a handful, and whose care Remy delegates to his loyal, but less than capable, associates.  All of this is going on at the same time that Remy and his wife, played by Ruth Donnelly, are giving a party to impress his neighbors, which include the parents of the state trooper. Directed by Lloyd Bacon with precision timing, and co-starring well-known sidekicks, Allen Jenkins, Harold Huber, and Edward Brophy as the loyal associates, this is a fast-paced comedy that has that Damon Runyan wit.

 

       Lloyd Bacon also directed Robinson in Brother Orchid (1940), and it turns out to be a winning comedy combination.  Robinson plays Johnny Sarto, a gangster who has quit the mob to take a grand European tour, and after losing most of his money, returns, hoping to take up his old role as boss, which is now in the hands of his former number two, Jack Buck, played by Humphrey Bogart.  Naturally, Buck has no intention of giving up the job, and decides that Sarto has a lot of dirt on him and must be eliminated.  Sarto escapes being rubbed out by hiding in a monastery, and plays along with the house rules under the guidance of Donald Crisp, who plays the Brother Superior. The contrast of the world view of the gangster and the monk is the basis of the comedy, but the sincere kindness of the brothers drawing a hidden shred of decency from the gangster is what makes this such fun.  Ann Sothern is great as Flo, who loves Sarto, but has to make other plans when he disappears. A young Ralph Bellamy is the "other plan" and is the casualty of a wild wedding day.

 

          In a year of great movies, perhaps the greatest year of great movies, there is one that features two of Hollywood’s most popular stars and is surprisingly little known. It's a Wonderful World from 1939 stars Claudette Colbert and James Stewart, directed by W.S. Van Dyke, with a screenplay by Ben Hecht.  How could this miss? How could this not be well-known?  James Stewart plays a detective, on the lam from being wrongly accused of aiding a murder.  He stumbles on Claudette Colbert, who plays a rather successful poet, kidnaps her, and convinces her that if he is free, he can solve the case and prove his innocence.  She is not only convinced, she tries to help him, much to his chauvinistic dismay. A fine supporting group of character actors round out the cast, and Stewart is pretty good playing kind of a rough guy with some unusual bits of physical comedy, while trying to show how he’s better off without Colbert. Colbert is a comedy pro and does not disappoint in the role.

 

 

       Another lesser-known James Stewart comedy is Come Live With Me from 1941. Directed by Clarence Brown, Stewart’s co-star is the lovely Hedy Lamar, who plays a refugee who has been informed that her visa is expiring and she is running out of legal options.  Her rich, married lover, played by Ian Hunter, is working the system with all of his influence, but, in the meantime, Lamar has met Stewart, a struggling writer, who is also in dire straits, financially.  In desperation (this is wartime and she definitely doesn’t want to go back to Vienna), Hedy asks Stewart to tally up his expenses and she will pay him that as a salary if he will enter into a marriage of convenience to get the immigration people off her case. She only visits him to give him the check, but eventually they end up going to visit Stewart’s grandmother in the country, and boyfriend, Hunter, who coincidentally is a publisher and has read Stewart’s book, which is an account of the arrangement with Lamar, comes racing after them. This is a quiet comedy and a sweet romance.

 

      I may have mentioned this film before, but I have to mention it again because it truly is funny, and is not anywhere as well-known for its stars, William Powell and Myrna Loy, as the Thin Man Series, which everyone loves and admires for the stars’ chemistry and sharp wit. But Love Crazy (1941) directed by Jack Conway with an estimable skill for timing, has a few scenes that will elicit outright laughter, the kind of involuntary response you get from controlled slapstick.  Through a series of unfortunate mistakes that Powell makes on his anniversary, mistakes which are compounded by an obnoxious mother-in-law (Florence Bates), a glamorous old acquaintance who is a new neighbor (Gail Patrick) and a neighbor who gets involved by mistake (Jack Carson), his wife, Myrna Loy, is filing for divorce, and the only way Powell can delay the proceedings is to be declared “crazy” and signed into an institution.  How he gets out and proves his innocence to Loy is the hilarious basis of the rest of the plot. Don’t miss some great lines from Ms. Loy and don’t miss the shower scene!

 

 

Watchingwell 

                                                                              

                                                             Curated classic films

If you need a break from reality…..

        Although, I see the value of the arts, especially in tough times, I sometimes think it can seem a little frivolous to be talking about classic films when Planet Earth is spinning out of control.  That said, the way I deal with it all is to bury myself under the metaphorical blanket of what I call comfort movies.  Present reality can only be absorbed in limited doses.  Then I feel the need to take a break with films that offer more than mere escape, films that wrap me in a quilt of familiar things, of stylish people who inhabit a world of order and reason, where damage is limited and repaired, and I can detox for a brief time.  

       It may seem strange, but I find a lot of comfort in mysteries, and a mystery series in particular, has very comforting characteristics.  In a series, we know what to expect, and right always prevails. The Thin Man (1934) is the first of six films featuring detective, Nick Charles, and his wife, Nora. This series is one of the best because of the chemistry between stars, William Powell and Myrna Loy, and their lighthearted banter that contrasts with the murders in which they find themselves embroiled. It makes murder seem less violent, somehow. It is adapted from the Dashiell Hammett novel and co-stars Maureen O'Sullivan. Although all six are fun, the first three titles are the freshest in terms of style and wit, coming out in the thirties, while the fourth through sixth were less carefree, reflecting the changing life of the couple and the different mood of the forties.

 After the Thin Man (1936), the second in the series, is cleverly titled to appeal to the audience that liked the first, by inferring that  'The Thin Man' was the William Powell character, even though in the first film (and in the novel), it was the corpse.  It co-stars newcomer, James Stewart, in an early role, and takes place in San Francisco.

Nick and Nora travel back to New York for the follow-up, Another Thin Man (1939), where Nick does not want to get involved in another mystery, but does, because he can't refuse to help a family friend.  In this one, they have a baby, as well as Asta, the dog, in a recurring role for Skippy.

           William Powell also lent his stylish manner to two other favorite comfort mysteries.  The Ex-Mrs. Bradford (1936) with Jean Arthur is a neat little mystery that drops into Powell's life along with his ex-wife.  I don't pay much attention to the actual plot, which has a typical pay-off scene with all the suspects gathered, because it's so comforting to watch the sets and Jean Arthur's costumes, and the way the two stars work together.

The other film, Star of Midnight (1935) has a mystery that's even harder to follow, but it's very stylish, especially Powell's apartment -- look for the scene in his bathroom.  His co-star is Ginger Rogers, who plays the daughter of a friend, who had decided that she will marry him one day.  Fun banter, not as fun as with Myrna Loy, but a good time.

          Another series that I find amusing and stress-free is the five Saint mysteries starring George Sanders and the Falcon films, four with George Sanders and ten with his brother, Tom Conway.  George plays the Saint and the Falcon with essentially the same suave and witty sophistication, with a bit of a cad thrown in.  And he puts it all together with that superior, upper-class voice.  Brother, Tom, took over the Falcon role when George was anxious to leave to do more demanding roles.  Tom looks and sounds very much like his brother -- who can forget the voice of the collie in One Hundred and One Dalmatians (1961)? 

-- and he went on to make the Falcon series even more successful.

Check out The Saint Takes Over (1940) with Wendy Barrie as the love interest 

and The Saint in Palm Springs (1941), also with Ms. Barrie.

The Falcon and the Co-eds (1943), 

 

The Falcon in Hollywood (1944), 

The Falcon in San Francisco (1945),

and The Falcon's Adventure (1946) give a pretty good flavor of this series.

    

        A fun murder mystery (I know -- a contradiction) from 1938 starring Barbara Stanwyck and Henry Fonda, The Mad Miss Manton, has Barb playing one of group of rich girlfriends playing amateur sleuths to solve a murder mystery and getting in reporter Fonda's way.  Amateur sleuths comfort me -- a remembrance of my Nancy Drew days. Not as memorable as their pairing in The Lady Eve (1941), but it is easy to watch.

       A whole series with a female sleuth that is quite entertaining was adapted from the novels by Stuart Palmer.  The character, Hildegarde Withers, is an unmarried schoolteacher of a certain age who uses her superior intelligence to help police inspector, Oscar Piper, solve mysteries.  My favorites are the first three starring Edna Mae Oliver as Hildegarde:  The Penguin Pool Murder (1932) which takes place in the New York Aquarium,

Murder at the Blackboard (1934), which occurs in Ms. Withers' school,

and  Murder on a Honeymoon (1935), where Hildegarde is called to Catalina Island to help James Gleason, who stars as Oscar Piper.

These might see a little primitive, but Hildegarde is entertaining with her sharp tongue and insulting remarks, usually directed at Inspector Piper.  Gleason continues in the role when Helen Broderick takes over the role of Hildegarde in Murder on the Bridal Path (1936),

and when Zasu Pitts play Hildegarde in the last two of the series, The Plot Thickens (1936),

 and Forty Naughty Girls (1937).

So turn off the news. Spend an hour or two with some old mysteries. Be comforted.