Cynara

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.

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.

King Vidor directed "Cynara," an early talkie starring Ronald Colman and Kay Francis, in 1932. The title is based on a poem by Ernest Dowson that contains the line: "I have been faithful to thee, Cynara, in my fashion."

Colman plays a barrister who is faithful to his wife of 7 years, Clemency (Francis) but succumbs to the carnal temptation of a young girl (Phyllis Barry) while his wife and her sister are in Venice.

As others commented, there are some lovely effects, including the film within a film, and a piece of paper that Colman rips up that dissolves into flying pigeons in Venice.

And there are very good performances by Colman, Francis and Barry, who has the difficult role of the young girl who, because of a mistake, is not considered quite respectable, and falls for Colman.

The problem I have with the story is that the Colman character is such a devoted husband in the beginning and so happy about being married 7 years. In practically the next scene, with the encouragement of his friend (Henry Stevenson) he has taken up with this girl. If some of that had been left out of the script, it would have been much more believable.

At any rate, well worth seeing for the director, the precode aspects, and the stars.

London barrister Jim Warlock (Ronald Colman) is packing to leave his loving wife Clemency (Kay Francis). They discuss how he met Doris Emily Lea (Phyllis Barry) and the start of his troubles.

This pre-Code early talkie is a romantic melodrama mystery. I'm not always in love with these male characters who are 'ruined' by aggressive females. They feint innocence a little too easily and are rarely that at all. I do like the mystery of his downfall. At least, there is no boiled rabbit at the end of this "obsessed female" drama and he does accept some responsibility. I still don't like him, but I do accept his journey.

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.