Interference

Roy Pomeroy was Paramount Pictures most highly respected specialist in his field. He had won the Academy Award for Engineering Effects for his work in 1927's "Wings." He made the parting of the Red Sea possible in Cecil B. DeMille's 1923 "The Ten Commandments." He was a wizard when it came to working with new technology. Pomeroy's value was recognized when the studio appointed him as head of its research department.

Paramount was the first film studio to promise after October 1927's "The Jazz Singer" was released that it would produce only audible movies from now on. The studio aimed to make "All-Talkies," meaning the entire movie would be from beginning to end synchronized with dialogue and music with no inter titles. Since Pomeroy had visited the RCA and Western Electric labs to study their sound systems, he had an understanding of microphone placements and how dialogue could be captured onto film. As studio co-owner Jesse Lasky noted, "We couldn't have treated him with more awe and homage if he had been Edison himself."

Most Hollywood directors were afraid to step forward and handle their studios' first sound production. Paramount turned to Pomeroy, who had never directed a movie in his life, to be the primary director for its first all-talkie film. Sensing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get rich, he demanded his $250 per week salary be raised ten-fold to $2,500. "He threw his weight around,'" noticed propman Joe Youngerman, "He claimed he knew all about it." And he actually did. He was comfortable with the new audio gear, making suggestions on where to place the mics and advised his inexperienced technical crew on all the aspects of sound recording. The only problem for Pomeroy was his lack of creativity in camera shot selections. But that didn't stop the sound version of November 1928's "Interference" to become a rousing success at the box office.

The plot, based on a popular Broadway play, involves a World War One soldier, Philip Voaze (William Powell) returning to England without telling his wife Faith (Doris Kenyon). His wife had received notification from the War Department that her husband had been killed, and proceeded to marry Dr. John Marlay (Clive Brook). Conniving Deborah Kane (Evelyn Brent) sees Philip at a war memorial service and decides to blackmail Faith for bigamy. A murder takes place and the story becomes a who-done-it for the police to find out the perpetrator.

"Interference" began a cascade of talking pictures. The Film Spectator reviewer predicted "not only will all-talking pictures completely supplant silent pictures within a year, but in less than five years, they will supplant stage productions." "Interference's" competition that night in New York City was Al Jolson's part-singing, part-talkie 'The Singing Fool,' as well as the courtroom all-talkie (now lost) 'On Trial." The later was criticized for its sound quality and its actors looking uncomfortable gathering around hidden microphones.

"Interference," the second oldest all-talkie film to have survived, was released five months after the earliest one, June 1928's "The Lights of New York." Both movies' enormous financial successes are attributed to viewers' curiosity with the new format. By early spring of 1929 when studio personnel gained more experience working with the audio equipment, the quality of the all-talkies improved drastically. As one film historian wrote, "As others mastered talkie mystery, geniuses of a year before seemed not so ingenious anymore." Pomeroy, so cocky at his audio expertise on the set, demanded a further raise to $3,500 a week when Paramount offered him another directing assignment. The studio thought he was good, but not that good. Paramount let him walk by giving William DeMille, Cecil's brother, the director's chair instead. Pomeroy directed only two more films, 1930's 'Inside The Lines' and 1934's 'Shock,' an ignominious conclusion to an illustrious career.

This film is Paramount's first full talkie and it was highly thought of at the time of it's release. Alas, it doesn't wear well today. Directed by special-effects golden boy Roy Pomeroy, this film is possibly slower paced than Warner's first all-talking effort, The Lights of New York, released a few months earlier. Evelyn Brent easily takes the acting honors here, although the entire cast suffers under Pomeroy's leaden direction. Legend has it that Pomeroy, full of himself after conquering some of the technical problems of early sound filming, demanded a raise from $250.00 per week to $2,500.00 per week. He got that, but upon completion of Interference asked for $3,500.00. By that time some of Pomeroy's "secrets" were becoming more well-known to the other directors. Pomeroy was shown the door. Watching this early production directed by a technician, we can be thankful that clearer heads prevailed and good direction was just around the corner from this effort. This film is of interest to film buffs, but you won't need to take a sleeping pill before going beddy-bye if you sit through all of this.

Paramount's first talkie sees most of the cast enunciating their lines in typically somnolent fashion, and takes twice as long as it should to tell it's tale, but still just about manages to entertain. Remarkable how sickly William Powell looks with a couple of dark circles painted under his eyes. He at least seems at ease acting instead of miming.

A few years after World War I, a woman named "Deborah Kane" (Evelyn Brent) decides to attend a memorial service in honor of her ex-boyfriend "Philip Voaze" (William Powell), only to spot him standing several feet away in the crowd. Startled by this, she immediately follows him to his apartment and, after a brief discussion, discovers that he not only survived the war but has been living abroad for a few years under another name to start anew. Considering that she is still very much in love with him, his sudden reappearance delights her immensely. However, her joy turns to anger when he expresses curiosity about his ex-wife, "Faith Marlay" (Doris Kenyon), who has since married a prominent heart surgeon named "Sir John Marlay" (Clive Brook). Additionally, when he tells her that he has no interest in rekindling their relationship, she quickly concludes that he still has feelings for Faith, and this enrages her to the point that she suddenly decides to blackmail her by exposing the fact that she remarried while her previous husband remains alive. What she doesn't count on, however, is the reaction from both Sir John Marlay and her former boyfriend when they become aware of her schemes. Now, rather than reveal any more, I will just say that I was quite impressed with this picture, especially considering the period in which it was made. Admittedly, some viewers might be put off by how dated the film is, but I suppose that's to be expected. Regardless, I enjoyed this movie for the most part, and I have rated it accordingly.

William Powell was reported dead in action. Now he lives a quiet life under another name. But for some reason, he has a medical exam, and goes to see Doctor Clive Brook. There he discovers that his "widowed" wife, Doris Kenyon is now married to Brook, and she is being blackmailed by Evelyn Brent, Powell's would-be lover, with some racy letters she wrote to Powell.

Paramount's first talkie picture is directed by Roy Pomeroy after all the other directors at the studio passed on it. Their worries about the primitive state of the recording equipment seem justified by the copy I looked at. Despite a print that was in decent shape, the sound is buzzy, echoes, and difficult to understand; frequently all that comes through is the timber of the actor. Add to that slow pace of the dialogue, and the movie creeps along, except for a brief section in which Brook is staging a scene to look like a suicide. I'm pleased to subtract this title from my must-see list, but wish it were better paced. Perhaps the silent version, directed by Lothar Mendes, moves along better.