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THE BIG HOUSE - prison of no hope - the last terminal for lost souls. Only the strong survive; the weak crack or are corrupted. As the warden shrewdly tells a new arrival, the place won't make you go yellow, but it you already are yellow it'll bring it out.

MGM was the only studio in Hollywood which would have let a female write the script for such a strong story. But in Frances Marion they not only had the most celebrated screenwriter in the industry, but also a person uniquely qualified to write about any situation. She headed off to California's notorious San Quentin Prison to observe the conditions & learn the lingo. Cheerfully deflecting the jibes & taunts of guards & prisoners alike, she reminded them that after being a frontline correspondent in the Great War there were few situations she couldn't handle.

The result is a wonderful film, tough, hard-bitten & stark. MGM did itself proud by supplying a terrific cast and production values. The scene where belligerent Wallace Beery refuses to eat the commissary slop remains a classic.

Chester Morris does a fine job as a resourceful crook who is actually helped by his time in prison, reformed against his will. This excellent actor is too often ignored when the histories of 1930's cinema are written. Wallace Beery, as murderous Butch, is absolutely unforgettable. Marion wrote the part with him in mind & it is difficult to imagine anyone else playing it. Lovable & dangerous in equal measure, he steals every scene he's in. THE BIG HOUSE would set Beery firmly on the road to major talkie stardom.

Robert Montgomery, on the cusp of his own salad days as a sophisticated, romantic leading man, here plays quite a different role. As a weak, cowardly stool pigeon, he's cast very much against type. It would be 1937's NIGHT MUST FALL before he received another such finely-nuanced role.

Lewis Stone is very effective in the small role as the tough-as-nails warden. Beautiful Leila Hyams is well-cast as Mongomery's spunky sister. George F. Marion & DeWitt Jennings are both memorable as elderly security guards. Champion stutterer Roscoe Ates provides a few moments of much needed comic relief.

Karl Dane is easily spotted as a hulking convict in several scenes, but he is curiously mute. Doubtless, his thick Danish accent was already giving the Studio trouble. Even though he had been an important comic star in silent pictures, he was quickly relegated to talkie bit parts. He was eventually further reduced to selling hot dogs from a cart outside the MGM front gates. This was the final indignity. He committed suicide in 1934.

Preview audiences were curiously cool to THE BIG HOUSE, until MGM executive Irving Thalberg figured out that female viewers didn't like con Chester Morris romancing another prisoner's wife. Thalberg instructed Marion to rewrite a few scenes and refilming made it clear that Leila Hyams was Robert Montgomery's sister, not his spouse. This pleased the patrons and the movie was a big hit.

Remember when Caged was such a big deal, shocking the censors and lifting the lid on what really goes on inside a women's prison? Twenty years earlier, and without the constraints of the Hays Code, there was The Big House, a gritty drama lifting the lid on what goes on inside a men's prison. Robert Montgomery is convicted and sent to an overcrowded prison after a drunk driving incident. His cellmates are hardened criminals Wallace Beery and Chester Morris, no match for the innocent newcomer. The latter two have a very interesting dynamic: Wallace is the biggest, baddest criminal on the block, and everyone's afraid to cross him, yet he backs down like a puppy whenever Chester scolds him. It's 1930, and the lack of censors can only show so much, but if you want to, you can definitely interpret their relationship as more than just cellmates.

I enjoyed The Big House as well, since I love seeing Robert Montgomery's curly hair flopping in his face as his eyes light up with liquid fire. There's a lot more to the movie than just eye candy, though, including episodes of solitary confinement, riots, convict gangs, and escape attempts. If you like this oldie, check out Public Hero Number 1 next. It's another great prison drama starring Chester Morris, and the warden is once again Lewis Stone!

The archetype prison break picture may show it's age but it has some decent action scenes, good performances and an oppressive and intimidating setting that enables it to retain a creaky toughness.

Imprisoned after being convicted of a drunk driving, death resulting charge privileged Kent Marlowe (Robert Montgomery) finds himself in an inhuman environment of an overcrowded prison. There he meets the likes of hardened criminals Machine Gun Schmidt (Wally Beery) and cell mate John Morgan (Chester Morris) who attempts to teach him the ropes. Marlowe in turn sets up Morgan causing him to be denied parole. Morgan is forced to go over the wall but is recaptured and returned just in time to participate in a major break out.

Some of the Big House is downright preposterous with stilted dialog and lame brain logic but Beery and Morris come across well as pretty tough mugs and Montgomery's Marlowe is a suitably craven rat. There's a bravura prison riot at the tail end of the film that is well edited and suspenseful pitting Beery against the warden played by Lewis Stone who refuses to meet inmate demands and stoically responds to the threat of hostage sacrifice by calling in tanks. In its own way and especially in its time The Big House is as uncompromisingly tough as the warden.

There were prison and gangster films during the silent era. "The Godless Girl" and "Alias Jimmy Valentine" are examples of such films before sound came along. However, sound gave such films an added dimension. "The Big House" is one of the earliest and best examples of the prison film during the sound era. It allows the din of human beings living on top of one another, the prison riot, and the armed escape attempt and stand-off to come to life.

Add to this great performances by Chester Morris, Wallace Beery, and Robert Montgomery as inmates with Lewis Stone playing in support as the warden who wants to reform the men but is faced with the constraints of a low budget, and you have a great film. Seeing that stiff performances and static cameras were the norm in sound films just the year before in 1929, the technical accomplishments in this film coupled with its natural performances make it way ahead of its time for a 1930 film. The film did win the first academy award for sound, but it is an often forgotten cinema gem.

It has one really good idea, not that well explored up to that time in prison films - what happens when an average Joe, maybe a bit of a moral weakling, winds up in prison with hardened criminals? This is what happens to Kent (Robert Montgomery) when he is convicted of vehicular manslaughter and sent to prison. You see the whole dehumanizing process of an inmate in the prison intake process.

Beery, as brainless brutal Butch, really lucked out getting this part. It was slated for Lon Chaney, but his cancer prevented him from taking the part. As a result, Beery's career took off. The gray character here is Morgan (Chester Morris). He's a tough guy who is scheduled to be paroled soon, but when he is set up to take a fall and that parole is cancelled, he escapes in an inventive but morbid way.

And what does he do? Rather than hit the road for a place where he is unknown, he goes to see Kent's sister (Leila Hyams) because he had a crush on her from the moment he saw her picture in Kent's possession???? OK, so maybe Butch is not the dumb one after all. MGM just had to find a way to insert romance into everything!

But I'd still recommend it as one of the first sound prison films with good performances by a fine cast.

Even after 77 years, The Big House is still the grand daddy of all prison films. Though films like Shawshank Redemption and a personal favorite of mine, Brubaker, with no Code restrictions can be a lot more graphic, still The Big House will shock as well as entertain.

Wallace Beery got a Best Actor nomination for being hardened killer Butch Schmidt who's a lifer in the state penitentiary. He and cell mate Chester Morris have a new man in their little abode in the person of a young Robert Montgomery.

Montgomery's only a kid, but he's done a man size crime of manslaughter in a vehicular homicide where he was no doubt good and sloshed on prohibition rotgut. Montgomery is a weakling in a place where that's not a good thing.

All the clichés about prison films really do start here, culminating in the final crash-out where a whole lot of people get themselves killed. It's a scene well staged, very similar to the breakout in Brute Force.

As the story progresses you'll see plot elements from Brute Force and from Warner Brothers Each Dawn I Die. The cast does a marvelous job and that also includes Lewis Stone as a Judge Hardy like warden.

If you like prison films, this one's the grand daddy of them all.