La divorciada

It had a plot that couldn't possibly have been made under the strict enforcement of the film production code beginning in mid-1934. During the so-called 'Pre-Code' era, however, MGM's April 1930 "The Divorcee" was not only produced and released nationwide, but it became an enormous hit with both the public and the film critics. Based on the controversial bestselling 1929 novel by Ursula Parrott, 'Ex-Wife,' "The Divorcee" focuses on a couple whose husband has a fling three years into their marriage. Once she finds out, the wife decides the settle the score by having an affair herself. That sends the pair's marriage down a rocky slope.

"The Divorcee" shows Ted's (Chester Morris) wife Jerry(Norma Shearer), enjoying her extra-marital frolicks with a number of men after she separates from her husband, starting with their pal Don (Robert Montgomery). Under the new Production Code after 1934, Jerry would be required to feel painfully remorseful from her enjoying her new 'boyfriends.' But here, she doesn't harbor any deep regrets from her numerous romps. There may be a shallowness in her feelings, but she suffers no repercussions. MGM, worried about the potential backlash if word got out the studio was adapting the 'Ex-Wife' novel into a feature film, gave the production the working title 'The High Road.' MGM avoided any mention of the book's title in the movie's credits, simply stating "Based on a novel by Ursula Parrott."

Actress Joan Crawford was MGM producer Irving Thalberg's pick to play the role of Jerry when the studio bought the rights to Parrott's novel. However, Norma Shearer, Thalberg's wife, was immensely interested in the part. She was looking for a juicy role to break the public perception she was just a goodie-two-shoes. Thalberg nixed her from even thinking about playing Jerry. Determined, Shearer arranged a photography session where she dressed in a sheer lingerie posing provocatively. When Thalberg saw the photos of his wife, after he put his eyeballs back into their sockets, he agreed she could convincingly carry the role of an adulteress. The press heard about the behind the scenes drama and asked Crawford for a statement on Thalberg's decision. "What do you expect?" she said. "She sleeps with the boss."

Typical of "The Divorce's" positive reviews was this from Photoplay: "As neat an essay on marital unfaithfulness as has been made in Hollywood. It sets Norma Shearer at the very top of the acting class. You won't forget this picture, and you'll undoubtedly go home and have a good long talk with your spouse." Shearer's role as the get-even spouse won her the Academy Awards' Best Actress. The movie's director, Robert Leonard, a veteran of helming pictures since 1913, was nominated for Best Director. "The Divorcee" was also nominated for Best Picture (Outstanding Production) and John Meehan for Best Writing.

The Divorcée (1930)

The start of this is such a busy, overlapping party scene in a country house, you can't help but get swept up in it. And if some of the acting or a few of the quips are not perfect, the best moments are really fun and spirited. The naturalism is really refreshing, and pace fast, and the dialog real. Then it spins out of control--the events, not the movie--and before fifteen minutes are up, there's a brief terrible moment that has two or three of the actors exploring an hysteria that a method actor would be proud of. It's intense, great stuff. Get at least that far in.

The rest of the movie follows suit, through quiet and fast moments, and the drama turns to melodrama and back, all pinned together by the ever convincing Norma Shearer. The themes--fidelity and infidelity, love and friendship, the superficial versus the things that matter--give it all something to chew on or laugh at at ever turn.

It's unnecessary to say that this is just two years after the full advent of sound, and it's a very developed, mature element in the movies. In fact, the density of things going on would never have been possible with intertitles, and it must have been a revelation to audiences and movie makers equally. Fast dialog and overlapping events are a natural extension of the theater, of course, but with the ability to shift scenes and zip down wooded roads with the camera is the essence of cinema.

So, in all, for how it's made, for the acting (the best of it), and for the serious, important themes, this is gem, an amazing movie, whatever its hiccups and flaws here and there. I wouldn't miss it.

A vivacious and happily married young woman discovers that her husband has been unfaithful. Embittered, she embarks on a brief affair of her own. Her marriage soon over, THE DIVORCEE quickly enters a downward spiral of escalating sexual promiscuity. How can she ever regain her husband & the happiness they once knew?

Norma Shearer won the Best Actress Oscar for her performance in this well-acted soap opera. Running the range of emotions, she is ably backed up by Chester Morris, Conrad Nagel & Robert Montgomery as the three very different men in her life. (Montgomery exhibits the sophisticated charm which quite shortly would make him one of the biggest stars at MGM.) Zelda Sears, a top writer at the Studio, has the role of Hannah the maid - and she gets some of the best lines.

The very elastic morality of the plot shows the pre-Production Code status of the film, while, oddly, the twin beds in the bedroom of Shearer & Morris point out that not all the restrictions of the initial Hays period had completely died away.

In 1930, talkies were still in their infancy in Hollywood & audio awkwardness was common in many studio's output. At MGM, Norma Shearer's brother Douglas was Recording Director and his department learned their new lessons quickly. Look at the opening scene in THE DIVORCEE, set in the large living room of a mountain lodge. Notice the action & dialogue going on at various levels - with the radio playing `Singing In The Rain' in the background - and it's easy to see that MGM had mastered the mysteries of the microphone.

The dramas of the early sound era were often awkward, phoney-looking things. A lot of this has to do with the acting. Most actors were of course experienced in silent cinema, but a lot of players with stage experience had also been brought in as was deemed appropriate for "talkies". Silent screen acting tended to be over-the-top so that meaning could be expressed without words, and stage acting also tended to be over-the-top so that meaning could be expressed to people sitting in the back row. But this excessive style didn't really work in the more authentic setting of sound cinema. Of course, movie people weren't stupid; they were aware of what did and didn't work and the industry adapted quicker than is sometimes thought.

And of course, there were some actors and actresses who simply seemed to get the hang of it straight away. Norma Shearer was among a small number who survived the transition from silents to talkies with her career completely intact. One thing Shearer had was a remarkable presence – she's able to project herself with just a simple gesture or pose, and in The Divorcée she's often standing with her shoulders slightly forward in understated aggression. And within this context she is able to give a restrained performance, conveying a great deal but with a degree of credibility that makes the drama seem more believable. Shearer deservedly won the Academy Award for her work here. Compare her to previous year's winner Mary Pickford in Coquette, a slice of ham from a bygone era, and you can see how much things have changed.

Let's also take a look at the director Robert Z. Leonard. He's not too well remembered these days because he isn't deemed an auteur, but at the time he was among the forefront of Hollywood professionals. Two things in particular are worth noting about his style in The Divorcée. First is that he uses a lot of camera movement to really engage us in a scene (who says early sound films were static?), often using a noteworthy pan as a character appears. Secondly, he gives us an awful lot of the interplay between characters in simple wordless glances between them, for example the jealous look of Conrad Nagel when Shearer and Chester Morris announce their betrothal, or later a silent, spiteful exchange between Shearer and Mary Doran. There was a temptation for talkie directors to shoot things before the assembled actors as if for a stage play, but here Leonard is making subtle close-ups that cut across the action, and in so doing giving depth to the story outside of the dialogue.

This picture is now often classified as a "pre-code" movie for its depiction of Shearer's promiscuity after she becomes the titular divorcée, although even by the standards of the day it's pretty tame. However, thanks to its fluid direction and naturalistic acting, it is nevertheless a movie that seems a few steps ahead of its time, and points towards the increasingly sophisticated sound cinema of the 1930s.

The Divorcée has much more to offer than the melodramatic plot may insinuate. Sparkling performances aside (including Norma Shearer's Oscar-winning turn), the film is full of witty dialogue, risqué subject matter, and a serious, adult look at divorce, not seen again for decades. The film not only showcases the largely-forgotten Shearer beautifully, an actress who continually pushed subject matter and fought for strong roles, but proves itself as a pivotal 1930's Hollywood product. The Divorcée is appreciable as a pre-code, and worth seeing for its unusually bold themes alone, but its surprising and often heartbreaking plot makes it an unusual gem.