A Lost Lady

Lost Lady, A (1934)

** (out of 4)

By the numbers love story about a woman (Barbara Stanwyck) who turns very bitter and cold hearted after having a tragedy strike her life. One day she meets an elderly man (Frank Morgan) and he convinces her to marry him even though she warns that she can never love again. After the wedding however, the woman finds love with a younger man and must decide what to do next. Even at only 69-minutes this thing seems to run on and on. I guess the only real reason to see this film is due to the early performance by Stanwyck but she's not too good here. She's not bad but not good either since she's still learning the trade. Morgan steals the show but the screenplay doesn't allow him to do too much. Ricardo Cortez and Lyle Talbot have parts as well.

'A Lost Lady' starts off strong, with Barbara Stanwyck and Phillip Reed in love and about to get married, only to have their plans tragically changed. As Stanwyck goes into seclusion in order to pick up the pieces, she's approached by Frank Morgan (who you may recognize as the Wizard of Oz), an older man whose love for her is pure yet platonic. From there the film attempts to troll the depths of friendship, love, duty, and marriage, as other men (Ricardo Cortez and Lyle Talbot) are also attracted to Stanwyck. The plot seems to have little to do with the Willa Cather novel of the same name, and as the film progresses, it seems melodramatic and not all that authentic. It's always great to see early Barbara Stanwyck, and in this one you'll see her hit a few tennis balls among other things, but not even she can raise this above being pretty tepid. It was made right at the outset of the production code, which undoubtedly played a role. At 61 minutes it breezes by, and, having failed to develop some of the potential of the story, ends abruptly.

No movie with the great Barbara Stanwyck is completely without interest, but there is little else to recommend this misbegotten movie. Willa Cather was so horrified at what had been done to her novel that she refused to sell any of her other books to the movies, and one can see why. The story, characterisations, time span, plot, and tone have all been changed, for the worse, in a trite Hollywood way. For example, the house in the book, which is a nice-size house whose distinction is the beautiful scenery around it, is here a huge mansion with the standard Thirties-mansion double-height curving staircase. Complex relationships in the novel are here so oversimplified as to be almost meaningless. The movie adheres to a post-Code morality, also very simple, good vs. bad, where the book was much more subtle and complex.

In what I think is the only case of this I have seen, Stanwyck has a different hairstle in every scene, which changes her appearance greatly. It makes you feel that trivial details like these, at the expense of consistency, are what most concerned the film-maker (Alfred Green-- who?).

Barbara Stanwyck is young and a lovely as a woman whose fiancée is killed by an angry husband just before their wedding. Embittered, she retreats to the mountains and finds healing in the affections of Frank Morgan, who plays a wealthy attorney who falls in love with her.

Stanwyck marries him, though explains to poor Frank that she doesn't love him. Their bedrooms, therefore, are across the hall from one another. With money, social standing, beauty, and being married, which makes her unattainable, Stanwyck soon finds the men are crawling out of the woodwork, including a very young Lyle Talbot and Ricardo Cortez, who lands his plane on her lawn.

Morgan and Stanwyck are excellent and give the story a very touching quality. One scene struck me as a little odd, censorship wise: At the beginning of the film, Morgan rescues Stanwyck from a fall. The next day, he walks by her house and pokes his head in her bedroom to see how she's doing. She's in bed, recovering. He's invited in. The maid leaves the bedroom and closes the door.

Either I'm getting too old or my sensibility is too modern, but I found this scene peculiar for 1934. I'd love to know how this got past the code since there was a big argument about "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." An unmarried woman, in her pajamas, entertaining a gentleman caller in her bedroom. Oh, well.

A very good cast is well directed, but this film is practically hobbled by a pedantic, bowlderized script. The story concerns Stanwyck as a society dame whose fiance is shot by an angry husband on the eve of their wedding. Stanwyck is sent to the country to recover her spirits, and there attempts suicide (although the film actually shows her SLIPPING off the edge of the cliff) and is rescued by a gentlemanly older man (Morgan), whom she subsequently marries. Her affair with Cortez (who often seems to fill this undesirable role) consumes much of the rest of the film. Unconvincing conclusion adds to the mire that this film got stuck in.