Gentleman's Fate

What on earth is everyone's problem with this movie? It has some awkward movement but so did most movies of this era before Hollywood developed its amazing (and often irritating) slickness. The story is kind of a goofy fantasy as are most movies from since they day they were born to the present moment. This is a really fun movie with a great cast. Anita Page and Marie Provost were great bad girls, especially Provost as the gangland superflooze. George Cooper and John Miljan were very entertaining bad boys. But Louis Walheim was the real gem of the piece, sort of a cross between Shrek and Marie Dressler dressed like a guy. As for John Gilbert , I can see how how this may have been a form of career sabotage because he wasn't able to be nearly as gallant as his public wanted to see him. But he demonstrated great range and his chemistry with the whole cast and particularly with Walheim and Page was wonderful. The dialogue was good and the much of the shooting was visually interesting. Of course it doesn't hurt to be a big fan of pre code gangster movies, Hollywood history, and Depression Era cultural history.

Earlier this morning I was watching a movie on TCM from 1931 - "Gentleman's Fate". It was the first "talkie" that John Gilbert did after reigning as the matinée idol of the "silents", and the fateful movie that revealed his nasally throated voice, sadly. Yet, it was a great teaching on how movies struggled with sound after being quiet for many years.

The awkward moves and scene flows of each actor, and no music rising or lowering under scenes, made for an interesting movie.

In my opinion though, the best part in the whole flick was when a character was coming down the stairs obviously intoxicated.

The "dame" who sees him is cracking and eating walnuts and asks,

"Hey. Are you plastered?" In which he replies, "Plastered? Sistah ... I'm Stuccoed!" Another character enters the scene as the drunkard leaves. The "dame" reaches out her hand to offer the cracked walnuts and says, "...nuts?"

He looks at the drunk struggling to climb back up the stairs, looks back at her and just nods..."...yes".

Ya just can't get dialog like that anymore! Loved it.

This early Mervyn Le Roy work starts out as an intriguing look at class, self-identity, and a mixing of two worlds, but less than halfway through it switches to a standard bootleggers-and- their-molls flick. In both sections, there are some loose ends flapping. We first encounter Gilbert as a well-to-do, polished Manhattanite, unaware that his money comes from the illegal liquor trade, and also unaware that his dad, whom he thought dead, is alive and dying, and he has a brother, Louis Wolheim (Louis Wolheim as John Gilbert's brother? even the script tries to make a joke of it), who runs the dirty business. Where the heck did he think all his money came from, anyway, and how was he catapulted into such high living? The movie doesn't say. Anyway, upon discovering his humble origins, he's at first repelled and then sucked into the family business, resorting to murder and taking up with moll Anita Page (who's rather touching) because he can't get over being dumped by fiancée Leila Hyams. It's run-of-the-mill booze, broads, and guns from there, though the ending's unexpectedly downbeat and depressing (he has sinned, but surely he didn't deserve this). Gilbert is better than his reputation suggests--there was absolutely nothing wrong with his voice, and he emotes persuasively. But it's basically downhill from a good start.

Gentleman's Fate is okay, nothing more. To maintain momentum it repeatedly lurches off into another plot tangent, peters out and then lurches again until it finally lurches to a blah finish. It begins with the dapper and handsome Mr. John Gilbert as a pampered Park Avenue- type playboy rising uncharacteristically at 7:30am to declare that he is finished playing the field and determined to marry and settle down with pretty Leila Hyams. Just as he is proposing to her to the strains of "Little White Lies" on the radio over morning coffee against the skyline of the Big Apple, the phone rings, and here is the first lurch. The caller is his wealthy, powerful, Italian-accented "guardian," suddenly informing him that his biological father is dying in Jersey City and wants to see him. He is directed to the "Ritzi" hotel, a dive where he discovers he has a biological brother (played by Louis Wolheim who looks absolutely nothing like Gilbert, an irony which the script is forced to address momentarily) and a gangster father succumbing to a bullet wound from a mob fight. The dying father gives Gilbert an emerald necklace which he in turn passes on to his fiancée, but soon she finds out that it had been stolen from a friend of hers. When she realizes her fiancée is not what she thought, she breaks the engagement, and in a fit of disappointment, Gilbert joins the mob and learns the bootlegging trade. Just when he has mastered it, another lurch. Anita Page shows up as the moll of a rival gang sent to spy on Gilbert's gang, but she switches loyalties, falls in love with Gilbert, and…. I won't go on, lest I spoil the plot for those who haven't seen the film. Marie Prevost provides comic relief, such as she can, as a Ritzi denizen who spends her time uttering inanities while feeding her face with whatever foodstuffs are available.

The photogenic and refined Gilbert is called upon to enact various states including carefree, exuberant, poetic, romantic and passionate, drunk and angry. He is good to excellent at all of them. He is eminently watchable. His voice was indeed high pitched, but not extremely so. One can only guess that his molten lover image from the silent days hung over his screen persona to such an extent that audiences expected more depth from the vocal chords. There is no logical reason why Gilbert should be cast in this role. Antonio Moreno, perhaps, or maybe even Ricardo Cortez, but Gilbert? Clearly, MGM was out to sabotage him and to his credit he stood up and did justice to the thankless task presented to him.

I certainly agree with Ron Oliver that this is a lousy movie, but the great John Gilbert has a few scenes in this mish-mash that show yet again what a terrific career he could have had in talkies if Mayer hadn't been such a vindictive pig and Thalberg a spineless wimp.

The opening sequence is good and Gilbert is in terrific voice as he sets about to prepare for his day with fiancée Leila Hyams. In a later scene with Louis Wolheim, Gilbert is terrific as he defies the fate of his life and declares his hatred of the rackets and his love for.....

Nothing much in this film works very well and it's solid proof of the crap Mayer handed Gilbert to star in as he tried to force Gilbert to break his contract. Most of Gilbert's talkies are lousy films, but he always comes off rather well, and the films DOWNSTAIRS and THE PHANTOM OF Paris are actually pretty good. Gilbert never gave in to Mayer; he finished his contract with MGM even though he knew the rotten films were finishing is career as a star actor.

Mayer is famous for his petty vengeances and his hatred ruined the careers of Buster Keaton, Lillian Gish, William Haines, and eventually Ramon Novarro. Later Mayer ruined Joan Crawford, Jeanette MacDonald, Judy Garland, and many others. As soon as someone started to slip Mayer could be counted on to drive a spike through their hearts. Others he went after with a hatred unparalleled in Hollywood history.

Gilbert gives this film his best shot. Hyams and Wolheim are OK as are Anita Page and Marie Prevost.

Most stars had the final word because their films have survived. Mayer is remembered as a hateful pig. The actors he tried to ruin have lived on long after Mayer's "fame" and power have faded to nothing.

Long live John Gilbert!