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Monday, April 28, 2025

Employee's Entrance (1933)


Employees’ Entrance
(1933) is a study of cutthroat capitalism and the depravity that can sometimes exude from a ruthless employer.  If the Great Depression was no time to be out of a job, it could also be a stressful time to actually have one. So many hoops to jump through for the boss, and not one of them safe.


The boss is Warren William, who we last saw as the villainous employer in Skyscraper Souls (1932) here, made the previous year.  The two roles are not exactly the same, however, Mr. William might be headed for typecasting by this point.  In Employee’s Entrance, he is the manager of a large New York City department store, and his character, despite the vigor of his scenes, is less interesting than in the previous movie.  The banker of Skyscraper Souls was smooth, seductive, and devious in a psychological way.  In Employee’s Entrance, the department store manager is just a mean guy.  He takes delight in pushing up the sales numbers any way he can, including removing the deadwood in the office by firing longtime employees at whim.  His sexual pursuit of female employees is more a game of conquest than desire—he dislikes women and distrusts them.


Movies that take place in department stores are always fun, they give us a world unto themselves, a world that, in large measure, no longer exists in many towns.  But this story presents the store with less a sense of showcasing the marvel of American commerce and more a sense of dread for the corruption we do not see when we shop.


The movie begins with a montage of sales figures, always climbing through the 1920s, that decade of wonderful nonsense and consumerism, under the helm of Warren William’s successful regime, but then falling during the early years of the 1930s.  It is now 1933 and we are at rock bottom, and he has to work hard to pull a rabbit out of a hat.  We don’t feel sorry for him; he feels no compassion for his workers.  He tells his board of directors, who dislike him and want to replace him, that “There’s no room for sympathy,” and that to be successful, one must, “smash or be smashed.”


He does that immediately with a vendor, a manufacturer of menswear played by Frank Reicher.  Mr. Reicher tells him the order for coats will be delayed because he is having labor issues, but Warren William walks all over him, canceling the order to punish him. It will ruin Mr. Reicher and put him out of business.


Later on, Mr. William will toss out longtime employee Charles Sellon, a man who, probably like the actor, is in his mid-60s and will not be able to find employment anywhere else.  He will leap to his death from store’s fifth floor.  Waren William will remark, “When a man outlives his usefulness, he ought to jump out of a window.”

Another older employee getting the ax is Edward McWade, whom you may remember as Joe the linotype operator who gets the ax, along with most of the newspaper staff, in Meet John Doe (1941). There’s something more unbearably tragic about an older worker left without any hope of self-support, and it is this reason that Social Security was established by President Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1935.  The first recipient was sent a check in 1940, for $22.54, which was enough to rent a cheap room for a month.  Mr. McWade and Mr. Sellon, in the movie, were seven years away from any such benefit, and with little hope of finding a job when there were so many younger people, unless they had family to take care of them or a local or state almshouse had a cot for them, would be living under bridges until they died.


Ruth Donnelly plays Warren William’s secretary, who always enters with a stricken expression as if embarrassed and horrified at the behavior of her boss, and seems particularly sorrowful at the firing of Mr. Sellon.  She knows the cruel odds.  Miss Donnelly had been in films since the silents of the ‘teens, and had no such worries about work herself in the Depression.  A dependable character actress, she appeared in 15 films and shorts just in 1933 alone.


We have Alice White in a flashy role as hard-bitten yet kittenish Polly, a woman who works in the store and has been trying for some time to turn Warren William into her sugar daddy, but Warren is too smart for her.  He brutishly puts her down, and directs her, quite seriously, to turn her attentions to the ineffectual and somewhat befuddled member of the board left in charge in the owner’s absence to monitor Warren William’s cutthroat operation.  He wants Miss White to divert the old gent to get him out of his hair, she, getting well paid for this mission, turns her little girl flirtations onto Albert Gran, who is reticent at first as if he doesn’t know what to do with her, but then succumbs to her charms.  Scene-stealing Alice is a delight to watch.  The Depression-era tune, “Million Dollar Baby” is heard in the background.


One employee that Warren William can count on is our favorite, Wallace Ford, who also had a minor role in Skyscraper Souls.  Here his role is much larger as the up-and-coming assistant who comes up with clever marketing ideas.  He is given an office next to Warren William, and his fortunes are looking up.

We don’t know if Wallace Ford would, in the course of his burgeoning career, turn into another Warren William.  He may be headed that way, if not for a young woman who’s looking for a job.


Enter Loretta Young.  Warren William, inspecting his store, discovers Miss Young spending the night like a squatter in the store’s “model home.”  She does not know Mr. William is the big boss when she flippantly invites him to her “home” and confesses she has sneaked in to camp out and apply for a job in the morning.  He seems interested in her, amused at her ingenuity, much as he seemed interested in Wallace Ford for his marketing ideas, and knowing she has not eaten, invites her to dine.

Warren William has his way with her, gives her a job as a model in the women’s clothing department, and apparently has no further interest.  As he tells Wallace Ford, “This is no job for a married man,” and “Love ‘em and leave ‘em.”


But Wallace Ford meets Loretta Young and they date in secret, and then marry in secret.

Frank Reicher, the menswear manufacturer whom Warren William ruined is back, working in the store’s shipping department, but he is not bowed.  He openly hates Warren and is learning to be hard and ruthless, which impresses Mr. William, who hands him a $5,000 check to start his own business to partner with him, but Mr. Reicher rips it up in his face.  Spite is preferable to any business dealings with Warren William.

Interestingly, a stock of new toys crosses Mr. William’s desk and he examines them, noting that the “made in Germany” stickers might not sell well and he suggests putting on “made in Japan” instead.  “They’ll sell better.”  While it’s true Germany had moved over to the dark side in 1933, Japan’s imperialist machinations were not yet bold enough for Warren William to predict the future.


The climax of the story hits during an annual employees’’ welfare association ball held in the store after closing.  Warren William has no interest in partying with employees or their welfare, but he notes Loretta Young, a little tipsy after a fight with her husband, Wallace Ford, and helps her to get drunk, encourages her to go to his apartment in an upper floor and lie down.  Stupidly, she does.  He follows, and rapes her.

We do not see the crime, of course, but it is implicit since she has stated she hates him after her first encounter with him (which she never told Wallace Ford about), and she is in no condition to consent, and we already know he is not one for charm, only taking what he wants.

Wallace Ford has had too much to drink at the party as well, and wakes up literally under a table the next day, feeling terrible about his fight with his wife and wanting to make up with her. 

She leaves him a note that she is leaving but does not explain why.  She is shamed.  Warren William wants her to come to him and offers her a promotion, but is blunt that he will not marry her.  He wants a mistress.  She blurts out that she is already married to Wallace Ford.


Cue Warren William to tell Alice White to shift her attentions from Albert Gran to Wallace Ford to get him away from Loretta Young, but Miss White, a good egg, refuses.  He offers her $150 per week, and she turns him down.  Disgruntled, he asks her where she got her principles.

“I saved a couple out of the Crash.”

Great line.  Alice White has moxie. “Why don’t you go keep your nose out of other people’s lives before somebody smacks you down.”

He fires her, but she remarks that Albert Gran will not fire her “not as long as I can play chess.”

Eventually, Wallace Ford will stand up to Warren William, too, though Loretta Young will take poison to attempt suicide.  She’ll recover, and they will start over.

Frank Reicher, meanwhile, after Wallace Ford quits, has become Warren William’s new assistant, but will never kowtow to him.  “If I get the chance, I’m going to break you,” he tells Mr. William.  Success in business seems to be a Faustian endeavor.


The movies of the 1930s seem sometimes astonishingly frank about this, perhaps because the business world let so many people down, but the class war that seems ever on the brink never really materializes beyond guerrilla ridiculing of their betters by the working stiffs.  At least they were working.

   *******************************


My new non-fiction book, CHILDREN'S WARTIME ADVENTURE NOVELS - The Silent Generation's Vicarious Experience of World War II -- is now available in eBook here at Barnes & Noble, Apple, Kobo, and a wide variety of other online shops.

Or here from my Shopify store if you want to buy direct from me and avoid the big companies.

And it is here in eBook, paperback print, and hardcover, from Amazon.

From Cherry Ames, to Meet the Malones, from Dave Dawson to Kitty Carter - Canteen Girl, the Silent Generation spent their childhood immersed in geopolitical events through the prism of their middle grade and young adult books.  From the home front to the battlefield, these books are a window on their world, and influenced their hard-working, conformity-loving generation.

 

 

Thursday, April 10, 2025

Skyscraper Souls (1932)


Skyscraper Souls
(1932) is an example of the ironic sense of fun teased out of terrible times—a hallmark of enduring the Great Depression—and the audacious bemusement over immorality that contributed to the adoption of The Code. 


A rift in the timeline of cinematic history was torn, and movies like Skyscraper Souls were afterward deemed Pre-Code, not merely to suggest they were of a lesser standard but that they were emblematic of an era of don’t-give-a-damn long before Clark Gable was ever given official, one-time-only, permission to utter the phrase.

We were on our way down in 1932, a few years after the 1929 Wall Street Crash, and not yet hit rock bottom, but we could see which way we were headed.  It made many people fearful and others, especially filmmakers, fearless.  The setting is a New York City skyscraper, notably a bit taller than the only other building rivaling its height—the real-life Empire State Building, which was finished the previous year.  


The fictional building is owned by Seacoast Bank, which is owned by Warren William, whose financial buccaneering life is centered on this massive monument to his investment prowess.  His sexual prowess is another thread to the tale.

In this huge building are many businesses, and the several minor roles comprised of fellow financiers and the massive support system to their lives including clerks, secretaries, waiters, and elevator operators, make up the cast of characters.  We don’t get to know all of them well, most are given only a thumbnail sketch, but we know them because for the most part, they are us, the little guys.  Some ride the coattails of the big shots, others are gullible enough to think that emulating them will make themselves big shots, too.  There is comedy in the mix, and tragedy.


The story centers on Maureen O’Sullivan, only two years into her Hollywood career and already this was her 12th movie (she had even made one Tarzan film by this time—and will be forever remembered as Jane).  She plays the secretary to the assistant of Warren William.  The assistant is Verree Teasdale, herself only a few years in Hollywood and her 7th film.  She is intelligent, polished, runs her department with efficient and no-nonsense authority, clearly Mr. William’s trusted right-hand man.  She has a somewhat motherly relationship with Maureen O’Sullivan, whose family she knew, and so she has taken a protective interest in the young woman, alone in the wicked city.  Heaven may protect the working girl, but not if she doesn’t want to be protected, and this is the case with Miss O’Sullivan.


Her boss, Warren William, has designs on her.  First, he must dispense with her self-appointed chaperone, Miss Teasdale.  Verree Teasdale is his current mistress.

By the way, if you’re new to this blog, there are going to be so many spoilers it will make your head spin, so discreetly look away if you don’t want the sordid details and your innocence shattered.


Warren William, tall, so handsome, with sudden surprising dimples and a twinkle in his eyes, reminds one of John Barrymore, but there is even something more suave and impressive.  A charming seducer, unrelenting in the chase, but not so lustful as rather being amused by life, as if it is one big joke.  Eventually, we will see that his charm disguises a deep and arrogant lack of empathy for others, and that winning is everything no matter what it takes.

This is one of the surprises in the movie and of the Pre-Code era, in that a character who is essentially a villain can be so likable.  He is not the only one who shows more than one flaw, and yet we can forgive the flaws because everyone here is human.  We may not, by the end of the movie, wish to associate with any of these people, but cannot be angered or repulsed by them, because they are just people in the rat race.  If the big building is a monument, it is also a trap.


We get our first lesson in flawed character when we see that Warren William, who also has an apartment in the building, shares breakfast with his right-hand…mistress.  Verree Teasdale sits across from him in a negligee, chuckling that she will be late for work and need to make excuses, while Mr. William, in his robe, shares companionable conversation in front of a sheer curtain which does not hide the bed in the background.  The scene is deftly accomplished with a wink and a nod to the audience. 


Warren William is, however, married to Hedda Hopper, who breezes into his office later on for a fill-up on her allowance.  They also have a happy relationship, but it is much more open and honest than the one he has with Verree Teasdale.  Hedda Hopper knows he has relationships with other women and laughs at him, and takes his money, and they part as good friends.  She knows, as she will explain much later in the movie to Miss Teasdale, that Mr. William is not the sort of man who can be tied down, and he will not divorce her because she is his convenient excuse to never get caught in a real marriage.  He can always say his wife will never give him a divorce.

This is what he tells Teasdale, and she accepts the arrangement, until a chance meeting with Hedda Hopper compels her to ask why she will not give Warren a divorce so that she can marry him.  Hedda schools her on the reality of their marriage arrangement, and Teasdale is shocked. 


But there is more gnawing at her.  Warren William has, in the meantime, taken a liking to Maureen O’Sullivan, luring her to his apartment during a party where he (and his silly drunken pal played by George Barbier) plies her with champagne to get her drunk.  A few scenes later, we see she has accepted the post as his new mistress.  This is not a case of an honest girl led astray by love.  She doesn’t particularly love him, but he is charming, fun, and…rich.

It's the Great Depression, Charlie Brown, and everybody in the building is in survival mode.


It’s why she is reticent to marry her new beau, played by Norman Foster, who is a teller in Warren William’s bank on a lower floor.  He is a fast-talking wiseacre with a habit of bumping into people, store displays, and generally bumbling his way through the magnificent Art Deco lobby of the building.  He is pushy in the manner of early 1930s film boyfriends, to the point where we can understand Maureen O’Sullivan’s annoyance with him.  Especially when he does the particularly creepy ploy of calling the security guard to bring her to him so he can find out her name and address under the guise of investigating a theft.  Why she suddenly thinks he’s cute and wants to date him is a mystery to any sensible person, but it is necessary for the plot, so we accept it.  Why she holds out marrying him is largely due to his $50 per week salary (which was actually pretty good), and his $1,800 in the bank.  It’s not enough to live on. Millions of others were living on far less, but they are not Maureen O'Sullivan.

Warren William offers furs, jewels, money, and a trip on his yacht.  She’s raring to go.


We meet one of my favorites, Wallace Ford, as another working stiff in the building, who, in vying for the attention of Helen Coburn, will join a frantic mob at the stockbroker’s office, also conveniently in the building, to attempt to make a killing.  Money is everything, and for these folks, the sure path to love.


But not to Jean Hersholt, a mild-mannered jeweler who is trying to woo Anita Page, a street-wise woman of easy virtue, also desperate for cash.  In the movie’s most touching scene, she confesses to him her sordid past, and he says he knows but does not care, and she is moved and shamefacedly asks for a dollar so she can buy something to eat.  Later, we are told they are on their honeymoon.  There seems to be such need and open honesty between them, that we cannot help but believe they are the only ones in the movie who will succeed in finding contentment.

But even they are touched by scandal when Wallace Ford, who has lost a bundle on the market, sneaks into Jean Hersholt’s open jeweler’s vault but gets caught there when Hersholt, who does not know he’s there, shuts and locks the door.  Helen Coburn knows he’s stuck in there, she was helping to create a diversion so he could sneak in.  She was going to share the loot with him.  In a story of scamps and miscreants, she, a minor character, pulls off the most venial act by walking away and knowingly letting Wallace Ford suffocate in the vault overnight because she does not want to be implicated.  We see her afterward parasitically attaching herself to a new prospective suitor.

It is not the only death.  But we’ll get to that in a minute.

Warren William, pressed by his associates as well as his business rivals, is in danger of losing his bank and his building.  He smoothly cuts out his associates and makes a backdoor deal with George Barbier.  It’s a fun series of shots where they talk business first thing in the morning—to recover from a night of drinking—in the fitness center in the bowels of the building.  They talk furtively in the gymnasium, in the steam room, get massages by rough masseurs, and swim together in a large pool, floating on their backs and finalizing their verbal pact to create a merger.  To really capitalize on their new arrangement, they will launch a stock market scheme that was once called “painting the tape.”  They will send the bank stock soaring, and then dump it, shorting the market.  Warren William’s character actually reminds one of Jesse Livermore, in his piratical market maneuverings and his sexual appetite, but I don’t know if he was patterned on Livermore or only a type.


Later that day, Verree Teasdale, still working on the problem of keeping Warren William away from Maureen O’Sullivan, takes Norman Foster to lunch in the grand restaurant on an upper floor and urges him to continue his relationship with Maureen.  When he complains that she will not marry him because of his lack of wealth, Miss Teasdale gives him the tip about putting his cash into the Seacoast stock.  Thrilled, he rushes down to the broker’s and buys shares.  Wallace Ford observes him, and copies him, doing the same.  Jean Hersholt, normally reticent about stock speculation, also joins in, and a crowd of people clamor at the broker’s to get their Seacoast shares as the stock rises and rises throughout the afternoon.  It is a fury of greed and high hopes for a high life and dreams coming true.

Then the nightmare.  Warren William skillfully pulls out, the stock tumbles, and so do the life savings of many a little guy. "More margin!" is the old familiar cry.  We see Norman Foster sobbing into a handful of tickertape.

The next day, Wallace Ford, left with nothing, dies in Jean Hersholt’s jeweler’s vault he has attempted to rob.

Anita Page confesses her sins to Jean Hersholt, who cares nothing about his stock losses and everything about her.

Maureen O’Sullivan, blithely jumping over to Warren William’s caresses and enormous wealth, increased by the merger and the stock swindle, plans her new life as a pampered mistress.

In Mr. William’s case, it is also out with the old and in with the new.  We see him tell his manager to arrange for a house in New England for Teasdale and to pension her off.  She’s retiring, he says.

When Miss Teasdale becomes aware of her forced “retirement,” especially with Mr. William’s cold explanation, “A man needs youth.  Without it, life is stale, meaningless.”

She tells him to give up Maureen O’Sullivan or she will kill him.  He laughs at her, and she takes the pistol from his desk and shoots him.  Is it out of hurt and jealousy or is she really just protecting Maureen?  Both, I expect.

But he seems not seriously hurt; he is shocked, chuckles, takes the gun from her when she apologizes, and sits in a chair.  When his manager enters, he does perhaps the only unselfish act in his life when he says it was all an accident, that he shot himself when he dropped the gun.  The manager runs to get help, and Mr. William takes his handkerchief and wipes her fingerprints off.

Then he slumps over, collapses to the floor, and dies.


Verree Teasdale, in shock, goes to the roof of his magnificent building, stands precariously on the ledge, and allows herself to fall into oblivion.

In a previous scene, Warren William boasts of the grand accomplishment in life this skyscraper means to him.  “A million men sweated to build it.  I hate to tell you how many men dropped off these girders when it was being built, but it was worth it.”

We have barely enough time to catch our breath when the next scene is many months later, snow is falling softly in the city, and Hedda Hopper breezes by again, happily concluding a deal to sell the building and carry on with her immensely privileged life.


Maureen O’Sullivan chases Norman Foster for a second chance, and after some pouting, he agrees.  His fifty bucks a week salary is good enough now.  They are so shallow, we have a hard time caring about them.  Sometimes the very rich and the very poor have a lot in common if all they value is money.

  *******************************


My new non-fiction book, CHILDREN'S WARTIME ADVENTURE NOVELS - The Silent Generation's Vicarious Experience of World War II -- is now available in eBook here at Barnes & Noble, Apple, Kobo, and a wide variety of other online shops.

Or here from my Shopify store if you want to buy direct from me and avoid the big companies.

And it is here in eBook, paperback print, and hardcover, from Amazon.

From Cherry Ames, to Meet the Malones, from Dave Dawson to Kitty Carter - Canteen Girl, the Silent Generation spent their childhood immersed in geopolitical events through the prism of their middle grade and young adult books.  From the home front to the battlefield, these books are a window on their world, and influenced their hard-working, conformity-loving generation.

Monday, April 7, 2025

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Friday, March 21, 2025

Eve Arden in "Miss Aggie's Farewell Performance" on Ellery Queen


One of the joys of writing about classic films is occasionally exploring favorite stars’ performances on the small screen.  Eve Arden, veteran of stage and films, had also enjoyed a thriving career on radio as the beloved Our Miss Brooks.  In a guest appearance on Ellery Queen in the mid-1970s, she plays a pompous radio show star with panache.  It is a joy to watch her; too bad she dies early in the episode.  But it’s a mystery program and somebody’s got to be murdered. 


This is my entry into the 11th Annual Favourite TV Show Episode Blogathon hosted by Terence at his great A Shroud of Thoughts blog.  Have a look at the other lovely posts at thislink.

The episode “The Adventure of Miss Aggie’s Farewell Performance” stars Eve Arden as Miss Aggie, “beloved principal” of a small-town high school on a daytime soap opera.  Her role as principal is a promotion in job title and tribute to her longtime Connie Brooks character, who was a lowly high school English teacher.  Except for that carefully intoned, crystal voice, the characters are nothing alike.  Hapless Connie had a wry sense of humor, and the character of Miss Aggie is all hearts and flowers, though the actress playing her is a bit of a phony, full of venom and self-aggrandizement.  She rules the roost in the small radio studio, demanding and getting attention, favor, and tribute, if not affection from her cast, which includes Bert Parks playing the football coach, and Penelope Windust as the ingenue, of whom she is jealous.


In the middle of a broadcast, Eve sips water and begins to choke, and collapses, as the organist covers with a burst of incidental melody, as was common on radio, where in some shows it seemed every dramatic moment was punctuated by a blast on the Wurlitzer.  The shy, mousy organist is played sweetly by Bernice Colen, a common face on 1970s television.


Not dead yet, Eve Arden is taken to the hospital, where she lords it over the floor in her private room swamped with floral tributes from fans.  Reigning in her feathery bedjacket, she holds court for the press, and is especially pleased that Ellery Queen is on the case to investigate who poisoned her.  She is so used to acting a part, she asks him to call her by her character name, “Miss Aggie.”


Jim Hutton plays a bumbling but clever Ellery Queen and David Wayne is his crusty father, Inspector Richard Queen of the New York City Police.  The time period of the show is post-World War II in New York, with some foggy establishing shots of the Empire State Building and late-model cars driving past their brownstone where father and son share an apartment.  Ellery is a mystery writer, and the program, as fans will know, is inspired by the series of books and short stories written from 1929 through 1971 by the writing team of Frederic Dannay and Manfred Bennington Lee, who published under the pseudonym “Ellery Queen.”


The TV series lasted only one year, from the fall of 1975 through the spring of 1976, and it was probably my favorite show, or at least one of them, when I was entering my teen years.  I loved everything about it, from the saxophone wail of the jazzy theme, to the opening credits, to the accuracy of its period setting, to the parade of favorite classic film stars, and younger familiar TV character actors, that made it such a kick to watch.  I don’t know why it didn’t last longer, but it was terrific show.  It managed to carry off an irresistible blend of whimsical storytelling with sentimental nostalgia. 


It led to me reading the Ellery Queen books, and Agatha Christie, and eventually led to writing my own post-War II mystery series here are Barnes & Noble, or here at Amazon. Or here, directly from me.  Oh, come on.  All TV shows have commercials.


I really only had one complaint of the series, but it can be traced to the books and classic mysteries of this sort: the well-worn device of the victim leaving a dying clue.  Some of the episodes’ dying clues are little overreaching.  Personally, were I shot in my poofy bedjacket in my hospital room, I would not be trying to figure out how to create an elaborate clue to the identity of my killer that only Ellery Queen could solve.  I would be trying to attract the attention of a nurse, or even a janitor, somebody who could get me some help.  Or franticly making my peace with the Creator.  But then, I have never been very clever, not enough to spend my last breath devising an intricate clue.  


Eve Arden, does, indeed, succumb to a gunshot wound while in the hospital, and Ellery solves the case in such a roundabout way that we kind of forgot he was even investigating it.  His casual solutions also baffle and infuriate his rival, Simon Brimmer, who is a professional radio criminologist, desperately trying to get his ratings up and his sponsor dollars increased.  Simon is played by the wonderful John Hillerman, just as dapper and acerbic, with his ascot and cigarette holder, as his later role on Magnum P.I., for which most people probably remember him better.


Another feature to the program is that just before the final scene, and just before the commercial break before the final scene, Jim Hutton would break the fourth wall and speak directly to the TV viewers and review the clues and the suspects, and ask them if they had figured it out yet.  Try as I might during that commercial, I don’t think I ever got the answer right.


Also in the cast is Betty White, who plays Eve Arden’s agent.  John McGiver plays the show’s stern and stuffy sponsor.  It would be Mr. McGiver’s last role; he died of a heart attack in September 1975.  This program was broadcast a few weeks later on October 16, 1975.

The series is apparently now in public domain and you can watch it here at the Internet Archive.  Scroll down to the episode.

Please have a look at the other blogs participating in the 11th Annual Favorite TV Show Episode Blogathon hosted by Terrence at A Shroud of Thoughts.

 *******************************


My new non-fiction book, CHILDREN'S WARTIME ADVENTURE NOVELS - The Silent Generation's Vicarious Experience of World War II -- is now available in eBook here at Barnes & Noble, Apple, Kobo, and a wide variety of other online shops.

Or here from my Shopify store if you want to buy direct from me and avoid the big companies.

And it is here in eBook, paperback print, and hardcover, from Amazon.

From Cherry Ames, to Meet the Malones, from Dave Dawson to Kitty Carter - Canteen Girl, the Silent Generation spent their childhood immersed in geopolitical events through the prism of their middle grade and young adult books.  From the home front to the battlefield, these books are a window on their world, and influenced their hard-working, conformity-loving generation.

Thursday, February 20, 2025

Zoom talk on my book CHILDREN'S WARTIME ADVENTURE NOVELS!


Join me online for a Zoom talk on my book, CHILDREN'S WARTIME ADVENTURE NOVELS! The presentation will be hosted by the Holyoke (Massachusetts) Public Library, scheduled for Thursday, February 27th at 3:00 p.m. The event will be a PowerPoint talk with images from the classic children's literature I discuss in the book, with some time afterward for questions and comments. I'd love to hear about your favorites when you were kids.


Register for the Zoom talk here at the link below. See you then!

https://us02web.zoom.us/meeting/register/jrzRhtp3RO6_5MhcmpfxXg#/registration

Thursday, February 13, 2025

Birthright - 1938


Birthright
(1938) would have astonished and enlightened white moviegoers, but unfortunately, it was produced for a segregated audience, for Black patrons in movie houses that catered to them.  Just as I mentioned in this previous post on Two-Gun Man from Harlem, made in the same year, one wonders that if such “race films” were seen by white audiences in the 1930s, the Civil Rights movement might not have been delayed so long.


There is a rawness to Birthright that strips away at the stereotyped depiction of African Americans in mainstream Hollywood films, where Black actors are seen only briefly and always in uncomplicated roles, their motives and their feelings unexplored.  The characters in Birthright and their problems are many-layered, where success is measured in the ability to cope rather than to triumph.


A recent Harvard graduate, who is a Black man played by Carman Newsome, returns to his small town in Tennessee with the intention to open an educational academy for young Black students, to lift their circumstances and opportunities in life.  He is thwarted by a white man who swindles him, and even by the African American community who have so long been kept down that they resist and mock his efforts. Mr. Newsome reminds one a little of William Powell in appearance, very handsome, with his tall, slender build, his homburg hat and his pencil-thin mustache.  What he lacks, however, is the wry and playful savviness of Powell’s usual characters.  Newsome’s Peter Siner is quiet, mannerly, but amazingly naïve about the social climate in his old hometown that makes him such an easy mark for white swindlers and untrusting Blacks in the “darktown” neighborhood. 


But his dogged determination is admirable, and his seemingly innocent demeanor allows the audience to see the difference an education in the North has made for him.  When he and his buddy, Tump Pack, played by Alec Lovejoy, are engaged in conversation with a white man, his friend—who continues to wear his World War I Army uniform—removes his hat and his physical posture becomes somewhat stooped, subservient, making himself pleasant and agreeable to the white man.  Newsome, however, without any belligerence or protest of this behavior, quite obliviously remains standing erect, looking down upon the white man, and keeps his homburg on his head.  He speaks with all, no matter their skin color, as an equal—though in fact, his education should make him their superior.


Ethel Moses plays Cissie, Alec Lovejoy’s girlfriend, who gets into trouble by stealing her employer’s broach and by refusing the advances of her employer’s son, and is arrested by the bullying sheriff.   Through the course of the movie, Newsome and Ethel Moses fall in love, are pursued by Lovejoy, who ultimately is killed by the sheriff (in his attempt to rescue Ethel from the sheriff, the old soldier hears battle sounds and prepares to go "over the top," a poignant scene of a man who cannot let go of the most meaningful time of his life) who is killed by someone else.  Newsome is hired by one of the town’s wealthiest citizens to edit his book, who will die himself and leave his fortune and property to Newsome to build his school.

The film is directed by Oscar Micheaux, who also co-produced and co-wrote the movie, which is a remake of his 1924 version.  That movie is considered lost, and it is interesting that both Alec Lovejoy and Carman Newsome are listed as being in that original cast, though in minor roles.


Though the acting is mostly stilted—except by the irate servant of the wealthy man who hires Newsome—irate because she does not want to serve breakfast to another Negro.  She’s a volcano of disgust, for he is, “Just as much spook as I am.”


Her reaction is only one aspect of the film that seems shocking for the day—the open illustration of racism and racial tensions, not only between Blacks and whites, but among the Black community that is divisive.  Some of the dialogue is crude.  A white man who says, “You can’t educate a Negro” more honestly attacks racism than the average mainstream movie that depicts a Black servant as dimwitted.


The wealthy man who hires Newsome and treats him well, still makes the insulting plea for Newsome to not marry Ethel Moses.  “You don’t want to marry a Negro…let your seed whither in your loins.  It’s better that way.” 


Miss Moses, distraught, tells Newsome, “They have no feelings for a colored girl, Peter. No, not a speck.  When one of us even walks down the street they whistle and say all kind of things out loud just as if we weren’t there at all…we just colored women.  They make you feel naked.”


When the sheriff comes to arrest her after an informant tails her, who is another Black man, the sheriff calls him “a black baboon.”


Skin color is commented on by the Blacks and used for insult and disparagement among themselves, and the whites are open in their condescension and racism.  When Newsome’s mother is dying, a white doctor refuses to help unless he is given ten dollars up-front.


The movie is missing its first 20 minutes, and the restored version summarizes the early sequences.  It is not a polished movie, there is certainly nothing of Hollywood glamour here (and a few scenes in a nightclub are diverting but detract from the plot), but is notable in that its unselfconscious ugly frankness would have been daring in a mainstream movie theater of the day.  It also features, unlike mainstream Hollywood films of the day, a fully integrated cast.  It would have opened the eyes of white audiences who were little exposed to the Black experience. It might have opened some hearts as well.

Wishing you a contemplative and celebratory Black History Month.

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My new non-fiction book, CHILDREN'S WARTIME ADVENTURE NOVELS - The Silent Generation's Vicarious Experience of World War II -- is now available in eBook here at Barnes & Noble, Apple, Kobo, and a wide variety of other online shops.

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From Cherry Ames, to Meet the Malones, from Dave Dawson to Kitty Carter - Canteen Girl, the Silent Generation spent their childhood immersed in geopolitical events through the prism of their middle grade and young adult books.  From the home front to the battlefield, these books are a window on their world, and influenced their hard-working, conformity-loving generation.