Sa douce maison

I interpret this not as a full length feature but as a one hour front end of double feature (which would be preceded by a cartoon and a newsreel). In other words, you could call it a B movie. Seen that way, it is almost perfect. It is short and uncomplicated but manages to engage you and deliver a twist at the end.

It starts out looking like it will be another Kay Francis light romantic comedy along with the usual accompanying fashion show. Certain, she parades quite a collection of hats in the opening 20 minutes or so. Then the melodrama and angst kicks in and it becomes clear that this is no comedy.

It is not profound and opens no new paths in movie making. It sets out to entertain and deliver on expectations but manages to give something extra. You come away satisfied that you have seen a good movie but not so tired and engaged that you can't watch the back half of the double feature.

Kay Francis delivers what you would expect from her. In 1933, people went to see her movies expecting certain things and they get them plus some additional and effectively portrayed moods and emotion as a bonus. However, I must say that she is not as stunning and glamorous as she was in many of her other movies but that could be appropriate and deliberate here. The rest of the cast is up to their tasks. There isn't enough material for any of them to actually shine. The movie moves quickly and covers more than one time period.

Overall, a very successful B movie.

This 1933 film's action begins in 1905. The first quarter or so, though the quality of acting and period costumes and sets is high, may strike today's viewer as the most cliched of Cinderella stories, more suitable for a Depression-era shopgirl seeking escape than a sophisticated 21st-century Internet user. Pretty proletarian chorus girl Peggy (Kay Francis) is romanced by not one but two fabulously wealthy playboys. As would any of us, she opts for the younger and handsomer of the two, who additionally wants to marry her over the objections of his stuffy mother, who of course eventually is won over by Peggy's natural charm and sweetness.

By this time, unless you're a fan of Harlequin romance novels, you may be sorely tempted to switch to another channel, DVD or website, as I probably would have had my spouse and I not been watching together, each reluctant to be the one to suggest pulling the plug.

However, there is one hitch in this opening chapter of bliss. Peggy's older, less handsome rich playboy was more than just a hopeful suitor. In fact she was his mistress in a richly furnished love nest. So there is hope that something a bit more dramatic will develop, and indeed it does and the film morphs into a typical hard-hitting fast-paced pre-code melodrama.

This is where my deep thought comes in. If a similar story was presented today as a movie, TV show, short story or novel, it would start with some later courtroom scene or act of violence to let you know what was in store, then flash back to the beginning without your having to wonder if anything interesting was going to happen.

Hey, I know, even in 1933 they knew about flashbacks. They also knew that 1930s moviegoers, with no TV or computer waiting at home, who had paid their nickel for four hours of escape from the Depression, were not going to walk out of the theater after fifteen minutes, so the film could start slow and work its way up.

So don't necessarily touch that dial, or remote, or keyboard and be prepared for, eventually, a pre-code action melodrama with, as so often, a morally ambiguous conclusion.

The House On 56th Street is a Stella Dallas like melodramatic soap opera that Kay Francis did for Warner Brothers before Bette Davis made a specialty of them for that studio. This pre-Code film is laced with irony for Kay.

Kay's a Floradora girl from the Ragtime Era who has all the men chasing her in 1905. She's the kept woman of ragtime rake John Halliday, but young Gene Raymond sweeps her off her feet and they marry and have a daughter. He takes her back to the family digs on East 56th Street in New York City and fancy digs they are.

Halliday gets some bad news from his doctor that he's only got months to live and he wants to live them with Francis, whatever the scandal. Francis tries to prevent him from committing suicide, but when Halliday does in the struggle for the pistol, she goes up for manslaughter and gets 20 years.

Fast forward to the Roaring Twenties and Kay's now free and living anonymously and making a living as a gambling lady with Ricardo Cortez and William 'Stage' Boyd. She gets an opportunity however to impart one really big favor on grownup daughter Margaret Lindsay and it's a beaut.

Although Bette Davis would later do these kind of parts, I mention Stella Dallas because The House On 56th Street also involves a mother separating herself from her daughter for her own good. Francis's role which she does a fine job with seems to fit Barbara Stanwyck even better.

Favorite scene here is the gambling scene on board a ship where Francis takes Cortez to the cleaners even though he's cheating. It reminded me a lot of the climax in Rounders with Matt Damon and John Malkovich.

Though The House On 56th Street is dated, it's still an effective film. Note the sense of irony in Francis's final line in the film.

Kay Francis is extraordinary in this fatalistic tale--the surprises this plot has in store for her character, Peggy Van Tyle, are heart-wrenching: stoically, heroically, she survives them all.

For audiences suffering through the depression, the hardened-heart determination of Peggy Van Tyle must have proved inspiring. Things start out well for attractive dancer Peggy Van Tyle, but everything she loves is taken from her, even her dignity, and there are great scenes here of her adjusting to the "modern" world she reenters after serving 20 years in prison for a murder she did not commit.

This story is full of unexpected twists, not the least of which is how successful Peggy is in her "fresh start" as a hustling gambler. The at-sea casino card game she plays against her future partner-in-hustling Bill Blaine is astounding: no one can match Kay Francis's poker face!

This is a very grim tale. But the strength of character--really, I should say the "durability" of character--which Kay Francis portrays here is ultimately supremely uplifting. No matter what life throws at her she does not break!

Every cliché, every stock character and every conceivable plot twist are knitted into this gloriously daft, frenetically fast early thirties ultra, ultra-soapy melodramatic melodrama.

If you found yourself in 1933 and was asked to make something which you knew audiences would flock to, you'd make this. It's got everything 1933 wanted. Rose-tinted nostalgia for the gilded age, romance, tragedy, estranged daughters, murder, prison ...and Kay Francis. In many ways it is just a box ticking exercise, there's absolutely nothing special about this. There's too much happening in too short a time for you to become emotionally engaged but nevertheless it's enjoyable enough.

Unlike something like NIGHT COURT, made a year earlier which makes you get up and rant at the screen with the injustice it portrays, this doesn't quite hit you where it's meant to. Although fortunately nothing like the awful STELLA DALLAS which ushered in the sentimental fluff of the forties, there are ominous clouds of that type of mush visible on the horizon in this. It's not helped by Robert Florey's bland direct-by-numbers approach, weird incongruous close ups and sloppy editing.

But still, where else are you going to get so much squeezed into just over an hour than in a classic Warner pre-code?