Tell It to the Marines (1926)

tell it to the marines

Advertisement from Film Daily, courtesy of the Media Digital History Library

 

 

Tell It to the Marines stars William Haines as a young new recruit in the Marines, Skeet Burns, who finds himself at the mercy of the tough-but-kind Sergeant O’Hara, played by Lon Chaney.  O’Hara has his work cut out making a decent recruit out of the cocky Burns, and the two men also find themselves falling for the same woman, Norma Dale, a nurse played by Eleanor Boardman.

Nearly ninety years after he rose to stardom, it is hard to fathom how William Haines managed to make a career out of playing such unlikeable characters.  His character in Tell It to the Marines is typical: he is big-headed, obnoxious, rude, and treats women badly.  He had already played a similar character in Brown of Harvard (1926), and would continue to do so for most of his career.  Yes, there is a transformation during the course of the film, but the character is still not particularly likeable by the end.  Brown of Harvard and Tell It to the Marines are the best examples of the Haines formula, and there is no denying he plays the part well.

However, the best thing about the film is the wonderful performance by Lon Chaney as Sergeant O’Hara.  Stripped of his make-up and contortions, Chaney manages to put a human face on O’Hara, making him both strict and compassionate, and the character allows Chaney to show off his rarely-seen comedic skills as well.   Like Clara Bow, a single shot of his face can convey exactly what he is thinking, a rare thing even in silent cinema, and his final moments in the film are particularly moving.  Chaney said that this was the favourite of all the films he had made, and it’s easy to see why.  The film was made with the full co-operation of the U.S. Marines, and Chaney was even rewarded with the title of “honorary marine” for his efforts.   Tell It to the Marines is said to have been the most financially successful film out of all those he made at MGM.

This is entertaining stuff, and the lengthy running time (for the period) flies by really quite quickly, helped by the episodic nature of the narrative.  The action sequences in China towards the end of the film are brilliantly done, and the change in tone from comedy to high drama is handled with aplomb.   While Skeet Burns is an annoying character, it is difficult to fault Haines’s playing of him.  Meanwhile, Chaney is in great form and Eleanor Boardman is superb as the nurse that the two men fight over.

In 1930, just three years after the general release of Tell It to the Marines, Lon Chaney would be dead as a result of cancer, and Haines would be the top male box office draw.  However, his time at the top was short-lived, and his contract at MGM was terminated in 1933.  For years, this was thought to be because of the homosexual Haines being unwilling to marry at the request of studio bosses.  However, André Soares, in his biography of Ramon Novarro (thoroughly recommended, by the way), dismisses this, stating that it was all due to the (somewhat less interesting) fact that Haines wasn’t bringing in enough profit on his films as his looks began to fade and he was no longer able to play the wise-cracking characters he was known for.   In 1935 he retired from acting completely, and he and his partner, Jimmie Shields, began a successful interior design business.  Haines died in 1973, and Jimmie committed suicide shortly after, unable to carry on without his partner of 47 years.  Joan Crawford had dubbed the pair “the happiest married couple in Hollywood”.

Advertisements

Ten Favourite Films of the 1920s

Firstly, thank you for the kind comments that I’ve received on the 1910s selection.  Here we go with the 1920s batch.  It’s certainly more difficult to keep this one down to ten films, so I am going to say at the beginning that Wings, The Kid, Flesh and the Devil and Sunrise are on my list of favourite films from the 1920s – I’m sure they’re on everybody’s.  However, the intention is to include at least some of the lesser-known gems of the decades in question, and so I have omitted them from the following.

*

THE OLD SWIMMIN’ HOLE (1921)

old swimmin' hole.avi_snapshot_10.39_[2012.01.13_16.12.43]

Charles Ray was thirty when he played the teenaged boy in this quiet and charming rural drama from 1921.  Thankfully, this doesn’t detract from the film (although signs of his age might well be obscured by the decidedly dodgy print I have seen).  It’s very much in the mould of In Wrong, which I talked about in the 1910s post, but here we have the advantage of Laura La Plante in an early role.  There is no real plot to speak of, just a series of episodes in a boy’s life as he spends his summer relaxing at the swimming hole of the title.   Oddly, there are no intertitles either – so much for The Last Laugh being the first feature film to have that distinction!

CONDUCTOR 1492 (1923)

CONDUCTOR 1492.avi_snapshot_00.12.52_[2012.01.24_14.37.38]

Johnny Hines is one of the forgotten faces of silent comedy.  Some of this films seem somewhat derivative of other comedians, but he is always likeable and a pleasant way to spend an hour or so.  This film is notable because of the inventive sequence in which he is trying to jump the queue to the boarding house bathroom.   It’s the funniest sequence in any of the Hines films currently available, and is more than enough to reason to seek out this little gem.

BEN HUR (1925)

I confess that I hate the 1950s Ben Hur with a passion, but absolutely adore the Novarro version.  We read now that this was a really troubled production etc, but none of that is reflected on the screen.  Novarro makes for an extremely likeable hero (even if physically he may look wrong), and it’s all beautifully filmed and edited to make the narrative move along at a fair lick as well.   This is simply great entertainment.

THE PLASTIC AGE (1925)

It is probably quite a shock to anyone watching the film today just how little screen time Clara Bow gets in this lighthearted campus comedy.  Her regular co-star, Donald Keith, is definitely the intended star of this one, although Bow steals every scene she is in.  Her naturalistic style is beautiful to watch, and once she starts shedding tears, so do we.  The nominal plot is that Keith turns up at college, falls in love with Bow, but she feels she is a bad influence on him as she is very much a girl who likes to party.   There is strong support from Gilbert Roland and Henry B Walthall, and snappy direction by Wesley Ruggles.  Interestingly, Ruggles would take a number of elements from this film and use them in his series of short campus comedy films, The Collegians, over the next few years.   If you can track some of these down, they are also well worth a look.

THE BLUE EAGLE (1926)

blue eagle

This is said to have been George O’Brien’s favourite film out of all those that he made, and what exists of it today shows it to be a great piece of entertainment.  O’Brien is in great form (and looks stunning – occasionally he even wears a shirt).   Someone has summed up the plot on IMDB as “two brawlin’ rivals take on a big drug dealer who has a James Bond-like lair complete with submarine”, and it’s pretty accurate.  John Ford directs the film with flair, and there is even the bonus of a pre-Sunrise pairing of O’Brien and Janet Gaynor.

BROWN OF HARVARD (1926)

I thought long and hard about including this film, not least as I have already included a campus comedy in my list of ten.  However, Brown of Harvard is a little different to most in that the hero of the film is so damned dislikable for the most part.  Williams Haines, in a career-defining role, plays the big-headed, often self-centred, Tom Brown of the title, and does so very well.  What sets the film apart most of all, however, is the supporting cast, which is superb.  It’s also a film that gave one of my own favourite actors, Jack Pickford, one of his last film roles, and it’s one of his best.  In fact, it’s the touching friendship he strikes up with Haines’s character that makes the film work and makes Haines remotely bearable.  Pickford’s final scenes in the film are devastating.

TWO ARABIAN KNIGHTS (1927)

two arabian knights

It is almost criminal that this early Lewis Milestone film isn’t out there on DVD for all to enjoy.  It starts off as a First World War film before turning into a comedy adventure movie.  Louis Wolheim and William Boyd are absolutely superb as bickering buddies who love each other really, and who will seemingly do anything required of them to save Arabian princess Mary Astor.  This is a huge bundle of fun, and deserves to be much better known (and much more available) than it currently is.

THE UNKNOWN (1927)

The man who taught me silent film when I was doing my undergraduate degree (who will remain nameless as he probably frequents these groups) must have been a genius.  How to get a group of film students in their first semester tuned into the wonders of silent film?  Show them The Unknown.  How exactly can anyone watch it and not be totally transfixed for the next hour as the plot veers from mad to madder?  At the end you think it’s going to turn into a 1920s equivalent of torture porn (which thankfully it doesn’t…quite).  Lon Chaney is, of course, superb in what is now one of his most celebrated performances.  If you haven’t seen it, do yourself a favour and do so.  Now.

NOAH’S ARK (1929)

A rather infamous film because of the stories of the death of three extras during the filming of the flood scenes, but also a rousing success for Michael Curtiz.  It’s an odd film in that it starts off as a war drama, then stops to tell us the story of Noah’s Ark, and then returns to finish off the war story.  It’s the war section where it works best, with great chemistry between George O’Brien and Guinn “Big Boy” Williams (we won’t ask how he got the “big boy” nickname).   There is a great reliance on coincidence in the narrative but, providing you’re happy to just sit back and go with the flow, this is stirring stuff.

THE FOUR FEATHERS (1929)

FOUR FEATHERS

I admit that I didn’t really expect to enjoy this silent version of the oft-filmed tale but was proved wrong.   This was Paramount’s last silent film, and what a way to end the era.  Richard Arlen, who often seemed to be rather wooden in sound films, is in fine form here, and he is ably supported by William Powell, Clive Brook and Fay Wray.  There is also some rather fine wildlife footage here too, including a rather lengthy stampede of hippopotamus (what’s the plural of hippopotamus?!)