Mujer blanca

Although it's seldom discussed, one of the staple genres that classic Hollywood tackled best was the jungle-set melodrama. It gave studio technicians an opportunity to experiment with oppressive artificial sets, eerie sounds effects and expressionist lighting. Those Venetian-blind shadow patterns so characteristic of film noir were preceded by just as many painterly images lit through louvered windows and bamboo curtains. And the exotic backgrounds allowed jaded screenwriters to attain a delirious level of moral turpitude, betrayal, sadistic violence and erotic obsessiveness, not to mention downright racism. White Woman may not quite rank with the finest wallows in the white man's grave (Red Dust, Tropic Zone, the absolutely jaw-dropping Kongo), but it certainly concocts a heady stew of cruelty, masochism and lasciviousness. This is thanks to a dense script by some old reliables, and by another ingenious portrayal by Laughton (much more subdued than in the similarly-set masterpieces, the Beachcomber and Island of Lost Souls, but wilier and more self-deluding.) Lombard was still stuck in her earnest, victimized stage before she hit her stride as a comedienne, but her brittle blonde presence and flustered pretensions are a fine fit here. Charles Bickford kicks the plot into overdrive as a Gable-like he-man who won't brook Laughton's guff. They're a perfect match for each other playing a doomed hand of poker while their gruesome fate awaits them at the hands of the natives they've crossed. Thankfully, the filmmakers avoid the moralising and let the viewer stoically sink into the morass along with them.

Given the title and the basic premise one unfortunately expects it, but there is nonetheless definite racism that pervades 'White woman,' with further colonialist overtones on top. True, for the most part these constitute an element of the setting, and background for the plot, more than an active part of the story - and at that, to an extent it's written into the nature of the antagonist. Still, like the exposition's treatment of Judith that is borne equally from sexism and a classist sense of propriety - a catalyst for the plot - and an instance of animal cruelty, it's a harsh touch that one must recognize before getting to the heart of the feature. Moreover, in the last act, the racial and cultural prejudice woven into the writing becomes still more prominent, enhancing the distasteful flavors of the whole. Though in a different way, I'm reminded of the 1934 Faye Wray horror vehicle 'Black Moon' - a title that had strong potential, and carried much value, but was substantially weighed down by the abject bigotries on display in the very fabric of the plot. There's a lot to like here, to be sure, but the counterbalance is deeply regrettable.

That's the bad news, and to some degree it distracts from the facets to be praised. The good news is that the core is otherwise very strong. The screenplay is wonderfully engaging in relating the story of desperate individuals struggling in one way or another against the manipulative figure that lords over all around him. The broad strokes of the narrative are compelling and satisfying, as is the scene writing that comes across as ably dynamic and charged. Characters show depth and complexity, and the dialogue is alternatingly rich and biting. Moreover, looking to those details that round out the picture, I appreciate the attention to costume design, hair and makeup, and set design and decoration. I think Stuart Walker demonstrates a capable hand as director in arranging shots and scenes, and there's some fine use of lighting here, as well.

Very importantly, the cast rather impresses. Even as they're given fairly high billing, Kent Taylor and Charles Bickford find themselves in supporting roles as David and Ballister only slightly larger than that of Percy Kilbride as Jakey - yet all illustrate a certain poise and strength of personality in their comportment that works wonders to help build the whole. Carole Lombard, comedic genius that she was, takes a turn in a purely dramatic part in 'White woman' as Judith. It seems clear that she was best suited to comedy - but also that she was not to be counted out in straight roles, as she exhibits a refined subtlety to her acting, and measured forcefulness befitting the put-upon lead character.

As much as I love Lombard, however, it's Charles Laughton who most catches my eye in this picture, admittedly at least in part just because Horace H. Prin is so distinct from the other figures in the story. Prin is boastful and grandstanding as he wields power and holds secrets over those in his circle, but is at heart both cowardly with a wide ranging nervous energy. Laughton is an absolute joy to watch as he navigates the intricacies of Prin's huge personality with gratifying range, physicality, and otherwise traits exceeding those even of Lombard and the other costars. Solidly made as 'White woman' is in its craft, so much of the feature's strength lies in the broad strokes of the writing and in the acting, and Laughton is the linchpin of it all.

This film walks a very, very fine line between what is appropriate for the story on hand, and what is shameful (and all too typical of early cinema especially, but also Hollywood in general). The way that native people are depicted and spoken of in the screenplay is sufficiently dubious to detract from the overall worth. At the same time, though, the unnamed tribes in the surrounding jungle are presented not as villains, but as victims likewise subject to Prin's dealings, and who in the end contribute to the provision of a very satisfying ending. This aspect by no means absolves the feature of the prejudice it dallies with, but is an improvement relative to other titles. Case in point - I had mentioned 'Black Moon' only as a point of comparison in noting the racism prevalent in 'White woman,' and it's worthwhile to draw upon that comparison once more. In 'Black Moon' the current of racism is emphatically just as strong as any of the flick's advantages; in 'White woman' the place of similar bias in the story shifts the balance toward a slightly more even-handed approach. It's far from perfect, and frankly a content warning should be appended in this instance, but I understand the tack 'White woman' was ideally taking - only, the writers lacked the tact to complete the image as it should have been.

I would not for one moment begrudge anyone who watches this movie and adopts a harsher, more critical stance than I have. For all that it does well, there's no getting around handling of cultural and racial prejudice that is shaky at best. I'm inclined to think, though, that there's just enough nuance in the role that the indigenous people play in the plot to place a higher cap on one's assessment than we may for another movie with similar issues. With one big caveat in mind, in its entirety I think 'White woman' rises above the worst of its unseemliness to be an enjoyable, noteworthy drama - just perhaps not as essential a viewing experience as it could have been.

Carole Lombard is singing Cole Porter-style songs in a native bar. She's an outcast because she went off with a man and her husband killed himself. In comes "King of the River" Charles Laughton. He marries her and takes her upriver, where all the White men have something in their background that would get them jailed -- at best.

The movie looks like a badly aged mash-up of other, better remembered stories from the era: RAIN, of course, and RED RIVER with Charles Bickford as the he-man, and SANDERS OF THE RIVER. Although Lombard is the protagonist for the most of the movie, and Bickford looks like he's going to take it over when he enters for the third act, it's Laughton, playing one of his grotesques who dominates the film, from his entrance until the very end, when he is the only White standing, shouting defiance. Just like in other movies of the era, he's so good at playing a fascinating villain who despises everyone else... until he throws it all away in an act of mad bravado, to impress Lombard.

After the suicide of her husband, down on her luck "Denning" (Carole Lombard) finds herself reduced to singing in a remote club where she espies a chance to escape the drudgery by marrying the "King of the River" - "Prin" (Charles Laughton). He's an outwardly charming fellow, but when she gets to his converted boat many days into the Malay jungle, she discovers he's a bit of a sadistic brute who rules his lucrative rubber planation ruthlessly. Her arrival sets the cat amongst the pigeons and sows a bit of dissent amongst his team causing temperatures to rise and tempers to flare - and that's before the arrival of the plain-speaking "Ballister" (Charles Bickford) who decides that this reign of terror must be stopped. How, though? "Prim" is well prepared and the natives are either terrified or armed only with spears against his guns. I'm an huge fan of Laughton but his role here seems a little too faux-cockney, vaudevillian and reminiscent of his performance from "The Private Lives of Henry VIII" also made in 1933 - especially when he is chewing to camera! Lombard is also out of sorts, a bit - her character has a stiltedness that even the romantic tryst scenario can't really enliven. It had potential, the story is good and the cast were all there - but Stuart Walker can't quite get this adventure firing on all cylinders.

You're going to have to get past the title of this movie. Carole Lombard plays the title character. She's a singer in a Malaysian nightclub, and since at that time it was pretty scandalous for a white woman to hang around "natives", the other white people look down on her. Also, her first husband committed suicide, so Carole has quite a bit of stigma attached to her. Before she's "run out of town on a rail"-in the words of Lionel Barrymore in It's a Wonderful Life-wealthy plantation owner Charles Laughton proposes marriage.

If you're familiar with Jean Harlow's films, you'll enjoy White Woman ten-fold. After only reading the above paragraph, I'm sure you're picturing Jean's character from Reckless. Then, when Carole marries Charles and relocates to his rubber factory, you'll be reminded of Jean's film from 1932: Red Dust. White Woman is so obviously Paramount's answer to Jean Harlow and Red Dust, it's mind-boggling. I've seen Carole Lombard in her classic screwball comedies, and she's completely different in this romantic drama. She looks like Jean Harlow, she speaks like Jean Harlow, she holds her shoulders like Jean Harlow-it's as if director Stuart Walker told her, "We've got to take the attention away from MGM. Be Jean Harlow's clone." In her imitation of Jean, Carole's performance is excellent. She comes across as a beautiful, serious dramatic actress, which is not how her career is usually remembered.

Charles Laughton plays the cuckolded husband, and his Cockney persona is very entertaining to watch. In a way, he plays a very obsessive character, obsessed with cruel pranks. As Charles Bickford got third billing, I thought Carole would fall in love with him, but he's crude and coarse, and she prefers the gentle romance of Kent Taylor. Charles Bickford's blatantly sexual dialogue is very funny and shocking for the time period, so if you get a kick out of pre-Code nasty films, you'll want to watch this one. Also, there's quite a bit of violence in the story, which, had it been made one or two years later, wouldn't have been allowed. The violence is chilling and graphic, yet another reason to appreciate this uncensored old flick.

Kiddy Warning: Obviously, you have control over your own children. However, since there's an upsetting scene involving an animal, I wouldn't let my kids watch it.