Cynara

Suicide has always been an awkward subject for a city devoted to "a real Hollywood ending," but at least during the Great Depression, it could be touched upon. A respectable bourgeois (Ronald Colman) succumbs to the temptations of a pretty younger woman (Phyllis Barry) while his respectable wife (Kay Francis) is away. Although the young lady has presented herself as a femme du monde, it turns out that she's very clingy. When the missus returns home, our hero has several balls to juggle. Fine performances add to the suspense.

And I've always been faithful to this film in my fashion. Rather ignored and almost completely forgotten, with such a simple but eternal storyline it remains an excellent watch. The acting and production is slightly stilted as with early talkies, but it's the other-world moralities displayed by both departments most people would find difficult to assimilate.

The Fatal Attraction type plot has already been well outlined, this is one where the main characters definitely don't end smelling of roses. Henry Stephenson must have played kindly old gentlemen in dozens of films, here he's a kindly old cynical sleazebag - quite jarring it is! Also Colman for hoping to be impervious to female wiles, and Francis as his wife for childishly encouraging temptation - but she does get to say Divine! Halliwell Hobbes also froths too nastily as an outraged coroner.

If you've got the patience it's an absorbing melodrama, one I've seen maybe a dozen times over the years now with no loss of enjoyment, and with a salutary lesson for both sexes that's well worth learning but won't be.

An odd film of both King Vidor's and Ronald Colman's, but Kay Francis is adorable and saves both the film and the story. The moment of truth arrives at the court when the successful careerist and London barrister is put to trial and has to explain himself, which he refuses to do, as his delicacy forbids him, as the reputation and honour of a deceased girl depends on it, and without it standing out clearly or being expressed, his loyalty and honouring the girl's memory makes him keep his silence, well aware that it will be judged to his disadvantage - he loses everything and has to find a new life in South Africa, while he could have saved himself and his marriage and career and everything by telling the truth about the girl. This is actually a typical Ronald Colman part - the extreme gentleman, who rather reasons decently and romantically than rationally. It is interesting although not a first rate movie but an odd gem indeed of no great lustre but of the greater worth for its inconspicuousness for both King Vidor and Ronald Colman.

Cynara (pronounced as the Goldwyn publicity department insisted "SIN-ara") is an obscure film from the early Hollywood sound era. It is almost unknown today. However, Cynara was an important film in the careers of five of Cynara's principals, and for that reason is worthy of fresh reappraisal by a contemporary audience.

Samuel Goldwyn and Ronald Colman---the producer and actor made eighteen films as a team, and Cynara was their next to last venture. The partnership was becoming increasingly contentious as exemplified by the fact that Colman did not want to do this film. He felt that the role of barrister Jim Warlock, an unfaithful husband with easily compromised moral values, was inconsistent with his carefully crafted screen image of usually portraying decent, honorable and often heroic leading men. . Goldwyn supported the idea of making a film version of this London and Broadway stage success in spite of Colman's reluctance. Colman's instinct proved to be right---the film failed at the box office, and provided the ultimate basis for a permanent estrangement between the two men. They made one more film together to settle a lawsuit that resulted from their dispute, and then never worked with each other again.

King Vidor--one of Hollywood's greatest directors made his first film in 1919, and had a career as a top notch craftsman that did not end until 1959. In Cynara, Vidor took a rather somber and down-beat story and was able to turn it into a serious yet engrossing drama with complex characters involved in a realistic and believable narrative. Notwithstanding the Colman role's shady behavior and relatively ease at being tempted, King was able to to create in Warlock a man who could also be kind, warm and greatly troubled by his unethical actions. It is one of King's least typical but most accomplished films.

Henry Stephenson--the only actor from the Broadway cast to reprise his role for the film version, Stephenson was one of Hollywood's busiest and most successful British character actors. He and C. Aubrey Smith often took turns playing like parts throughout the 1930s and 1940s. Similar in age and physical appearance, Stephenson and Smith created an extensive gallery of aristocratic Englishmen that defined such characters in the minds of most American moviegoers for generations. Interestingly, they both died at the age of 85 after prolific and distinguished acting careers.

Phyllis Barry---a discovery of Goldwyn, this British dancer's most famous film role was as Doris Lea, the doomed "other woman," in Cynara. Groomed for a major Hollywood career, she never reached anything close to Goldwyn's expectations. Relegated to a succession of nondescript bit parts, she died in relative obscurity of a drug overdose while in her early 40s.

As for Cynara, it is interesting in capturing an uncharacteristic portrayal of a cad by Ronald Colman, and Kay Francis is quite good as Colman's trusting and ultimately betrayed wife. But the best part in Cynara is played by Henry Stephenson in a sly and most entertaining role as Colman's friend who helps to lead him down the road of marital infidelity with considerable demonic charm.

Seek out Cynara.. It is well worth your time and attention.

Recently I was finally able to see this early sound classic with Ronald Colman and Kay Francis. I haven't seen many movies with the latter, and her understated beauty suits Colman perfectly.

Colman looking elegant in his perfectly tailored suits, plays a conservative and happily married (to Kay, as Clemency) barrister whose life is turned upside down by a chance affair with a shop girl played sensitively by an unknown at the time, Phyllis Barry. King Vidor, the director, took a chance in casting her, but his faith in her ability paid off. She brings just the right touch of pathos and desperation to the role of Doris. (And just happens to resemble Kay more than just a little.) In David Shepard's book on King Vidor several effects within the movie are discussed, such as the movie within a movie scene with Charlie playing the little tramp when they all go to the flickers the night he and Tring (character actor Henry Stephenson in a salty role.) meet the girls, and the fade out scenes of Colman tearing up the paper with the girls address to a scene of Clemency in Venice with her sister and the scraps of paper have dissolved into pigeons in flight.

I would say that this was a different type of role for Colman. Yet even though he plays an adulterous husband, his kindness and tenderness toward Doris is always there, and all parties suffer because of the infidelity. Even in a precode, no one gets away from the consequences of their actions! I highly recommend this movie for Colman and Francis fans and as a fine example of an early Vidor sound movie. I enjoyed it more than Street Scene as the sound quality was better by this time, and the story flowed more smoothly.