Die Schöne der neunziger Jahre

The enforcement of the Hollywood production code in 1934 was abrupt, and for many in-production movies it meant hasty rewrites and reshoots. Belle of the Nineties, Mae West's follow-up to the phenomenally successful (not to mention outrageously code-flaunting) I'm No Angel and She Done Him Wrong, was just such a victim of the post-code cull.

Sources vary regarding this picture, but most agree it had to be adapted quite extensively to fit the more stringent regulations. The story is typical Mae West (she wrote her own material) but the jokes are a little lukewarm, suggestive of nothing more than a nice cuddle and the prospect of marriage. It's odd though because there is as always suggestion of much more in West's body language. Her opening scene is as good an example as any. A musical number, but West doesn't sing or dance; she merely flicks her eyes and sashays her hips as a number of backdrops appear behind her, a performance existing solely to convey her sexual allure.

As well as toning down the dialogue, the story seems to have been truncated, possibly to save time after the rewrites. A large chunk of plot is skimmed over with a few newspaper headlines. When West's character arrives in New Orleans she flirts with a young man who picks up her glove, and it looks as if he is going to become an important character, but he doesn't. The director is slapstick master Leo McCarey, who seems to be using the opportunity to fine-tune his cinematic technique, handling movement on different levels and keeping the camera chugging smoothly around. His biggest contribution is probably to show West's musical numbers from the point-of-view of a face in the crowd, with the camera often at her feet or peeping out between other silhouettes. All in all though it seems a little plodding for a McCarey job, and one wonders if the hassle of reshoots had drained his enthusiasm for the project somewhat.

Belle of the Nineties is perhaps the weakest of all the Mae West pictures, because it is like some strange hybrid. By leaving in West's promiscuous character and sassy mannerisms but taking out all the witty smut, Paramount has left us with something far more disturbing and questionable than the easygoing innuendo of her previous efforts. Things like the oddness of West's walk start to stand out as verging on ridiculous. Of course, the choice of leading man doesn't help either. Roger Pryor's childish grin as he gazes appreciatively at the blonde beauty is decidedly creepy in itself. A few years later, with Klondike Annie, West would work out a suitable post-code persona for herself, which without her trademark sexuality was mediocre though certainly watchable. But Belle of the Nineties, lacking the sex but having the set-up, is awkwardly bad.

As I watched the Mae West film, "Belle of the Nineties", I found myself wishing they'd made the movie six months earlier. This is because the film debuted in September, 1934...a couple months after the new toughened Production Code came into effect. This is because West's shtick was bawdy humor....and in the Code era, nothing even remotely bawdy would be allowed. So, as a result, West's character is pretty dull and the movie mostly forgettable.

Mae stars as Ruby, a woman who sings in the saloon owned by a local baddie, Ace Lamont. Lamont was played by John Miljan...a man who always played disreputable jerks. So, you know from the outset that he's a guy up to no good. But, like EVERY man in a Mae West film, he is drawn to her like a moth to a flame. But because he's bad to the core, he wants Ruby AND he wants to screw her...out of her diamonds. Can Ruby outsmart this conniving jerk?

It's odd, but after the movie was over, I already found myself forgetting it. Sure, a Code picture with West could be good ("My Little Chickadee" and "Go West Young Man" were pretty good Code films), but this one just seemed to be so neutered that it was dull and forgettable. Gone are West's terrific one liners as well as any sense of fun.

Mae West is back to her sassy self. I shouldn't say "back" because she never left off being sassy. Mae West began her career by finding a character she liked and faithfully sticking with it; and it can't be said that it was someone else's doing. Mae West wrote the scripts she performed. She wrote "Night After Night," "She Done Him Wrong," "I'm No Angel," and "Belle of the Nineties," and she was the same character in all of them--just a different name.

"Belle of the Nineties," like "She Done Him Wrong," took place in the late 19th century. Ruby Carter (Mae West) was a club performer in St. Louis dating a boxer named Kid Tiger (Roger Pryor). When a ploy by Kid Tiger's manager broke them up, she took her talents to New Orleans. Ruby was just like every other Mae West character: a vamp. She was smart, sassy, sexy, witty, flirtatious, and ALL the men wanted her. Mae's characters never break a sweat, never lose, and are never in a hurry. She's too cool for any of that.

In New Orleans Ruby had a contract with Ace Lamont (John Miljan) to perform at his Sensation House. Ruby packed the place. She had to deal with Ace as well as the throng of panting men who paid to see her. Her chief suitor besides Ace was Brooks Claybourne (John Mack Brown). He lavished her with expensive jewelry in hopes of winning her heart. She entertained the compliments and charms of them all, but she didn't give her heart to any of them.

Things were rather easy going until Tiger Kid came to New Orleans for a fight. He hooked up with Ace, who was bad news, and he saw Ruby again after their break up. It was anybody's guess how things were going to turn out, but Ruby would be the victor no matter what.

I think I liked this movie more than the previous two Mae West movies because the vamping was tempered more to focus on the scheming aspects of the plot. Instead of this being so much about the men who desired her (they were still there, just not as heavily as "She Done Him Wrong" and "I'm No Angel"), it was a little of the men who desired her and more of the scheming men in her life (principally Ace). It played out rather nicely.

Free on Odnoklassniki.

... Paramount Pictures, and director Leo McCarey. West stars as Ruby Carter, an infamous stage performer known as much for her headline-grabbing social life as for her sex-drenched song numbers. She gets mixed up in love with hot-headed boxer Tiger Kid (Roger Pryor) and New Orleans nightclub owner Ace Lamont (John Miljan). Also featuring Mike Mazurki in his debut.

The always-boundary-pushing West ran up hard against the censors and the newly tightening Production Code here, and much of the film had to be reshot to appease them. Even so, many scenes were cut depending on the market it was playing in, and the film proved to be West's first box office disappointment. There's not much to the story, but there rarely is in her films. They serve as a showcase for her unique charms and one-liners. The supporting cast is okay. I wasn't familiar with Pryor, who seems to have peaked with this movie before moving to radio (he does have a good voice), and while his attitude is right, he doesn't look like a boxer. Katherine DeMille, the adopted daughter of Cecil B. DeMille and the future wife of Anthony Quinn, is good (and sexy) as the former love of Miljan, and West's chief rival.

Mae West's first vehicle following the enforcement of the Production Code emerges as a lesser comedy, despite the involvement of the renowned McCarey (who directed many a star comedian around this time, including various Laurel & Hardy shorts, Eddie Cantor, The Marx Bros., W.C. Fields and Harold Lloyd).

As ever, West wrote the script herself: having gone through the titles included in the R1 DVD collection not too long ago, this film can be seen to have adhered strictly to formula – so that, in spite of offering nothing new (all the men, be they naïve or unscrupulous, invariably throw themselves at the star's feet who, of course, plays a notorious chanteuse), the undercasting of the chief supporting players and the severely reduced trademark double entendres, it still gets by on the consummate professionalism on display (conveyed in Paramount's recognizable in-house style). Among the highlights here are a marathon boxing match, a typically soulful number by the underprivileged black community and the fiery climax.

The film's brief 70-minute running-time (in PAL mode) and unassuming plot line makes this ideal for late-night viewing; however, such rampant streamlining also leads to an overly abrupt denouement in which events are neatly tied up via a montage of newspaper clippings!