Sa dernière chance

A bland title disguises this solidly-carpentered example of old-fashioned Hollywood entertainment, this film proves a largely successful hodgepodge of several disparate elements: a period piece, a romantic drama, a crime movie and a political thriller. Interestingly, though made by Fox, its protagonists – Robert Taylor and Barbara Stanwyck – were both usually associated with other studios; their on screen chemistry here is palpable and eventually led to marriage in a couple of years' time. While a bit too young, Taylor is a dashing hero (a Marine personally appointed by President McKinley to uncover the culprits behind an organized clean-up of numerous banks); unsurprisingly, no sooner has he tracked them down (led by smooth Brian Donlevy and thuggish Victor McLaglen) that he falls for a chanteuse (naturally, Stanwyck) who has thrown her lot with the gang – although, truth be told, singing is far from being the actress' forte! Similarly, apart from having to prove his worth to make it into their fold, he has to vie with McLaglen for Stanwyck's attentions; by the way, the practical joker persona of the former reminded me a lot of Charley Chase in SONS OF THE DESERT (1933) which, incidentally, was likewise directed by William A. Seiter. Later on, Taylor is in two minds about involving Stanwyck in the impending bait and tries to offer his resignation to the President while eloping with the girl – but the jealous rival disrupts his plans. The robbery gone awry, we find Donlevy dead and the other two in jail; Taylor's hopes for McKinley's intervention – having meanwhile learned the identity of the elusive and obviously prominent 'inside man' – are seemingly dashed when the President winds up assassinated himself (a great plot twist, though the resulting eleventh-hour suspense feels contrived)! To get back to the film's jumble of styles, even if the vaudeville sequences are a matter of taste, the romantic triangle slows things up and it skimps somewhat on the thriller aspect, this emerges a handsome production indeed – with the actors already mentioned ably supported by the likes of John Carradine (who unaccountably disappears after just one scene!), Douglas Fowley, Sig Rumann and, as two American Presidents, Sidney Blackmer (the bubbly Theodore Roosevelt) and Frank Conroy (McKinley).

1937's "This is My Affair" could have been better but as it is, barely gets by. Robert Taylor stars as a Navy lieutenant who is asked by President McKinley to get the name of the men robbing banks all over the country, and his mission is to be kept secret between the two of them. Taylor infiltrates the gang by becoming a criminal himself. He meets the dumb, big practical joker (Victor McLaglen) and the brains (Brian Donlevy) - but there's a head name, whose name he can't get. McLaglen has it bad for Donlevy's half-sister, a saloon singer (Stanwyck) with whom Taylor falls in love.

The premise isn't bad if you can suspend your imagination, and the end is fairly tense, but "This is My Affair" just isn't a well-made or well-thought out film. First of all, Stanwyck was one of the most versatile and multi-talented actresses in Hollywood, but singing wasn't her greatest talent. In fact, she couldn't sing, with the exception of "Take it Off the E String (Play it on the G String) in "Lady of Burlesque" and a little number in "Banjo on my Knee" that can't count as singing. Her outfits were from the Mae West School of Design and overpowered her tiny frame.

Then there is the awful scene with Theodore Roosevelt where he invents the phrase, "Speak softly but carry a big stick" - embarrassing. Taylor slugs through it professionally, but why did makeup people always slather so much pancake and eye shadow on him? This is a 20th Century Fox film, by the way, not MGM, Taylor's usual studio, but MGM did it too. Fox never made Tyrone Power up like that with the exception of "Lloyds of London." Taylor was a handsome, rugged man. I guess they couldn't leave his face alone. Victor McLaglen isn't very good, but Donlevy, in a usual-type role for him, does a good job.

It is a chance to see the two married stars work together.

Did anyone watching this movie wonder if President McKinley got assassinated, because of his secret attempt to unmask one of his confidantes as the kingpin of a crime syndicate? It's a question that was left unexplored here, because, I take it, Americans of the thirties never saw the event as anything but the act of a lone fanatic instead of as a conspiracy. After all, audiences were still recovering from the aftermath of a Depression, and the movies of the time were more concerned with stamping out the Little Caesars and Duke Santees of the day than uncovering political corruption. Allan Rivkin ("The Farmer's Daughter") wrote an interesting story about a naval officer (Robert Taylor) who, in secret correspondence with McKinley, uncovers the linchpin behind a wave of bank robberies in the upper Midwest centered in, of all places, St. Paul, Minnesota. The screenplay gets sanctimonious in the hands of Lamar Trotti, and the script did not inspire William Seiter to more imaginative heights. Brian Donlevy plays the crime boss with his usual menace, while Barbara Stanwyck (of all people) as his half-sister is made to sing (She's barely on-key, like Marlene Dietrich in "The Blue Angel.") and wear big, floppy hats--even in her stage act. The only one I've ever seen on screen who could pull off wearing headgear like these is Mae West, and she was at least in on the joke. Stanwyck, on the other hand, is forced to be unswervingly sincere throughout. Her character Lil and the officer idle on Lake Como and get serious about each other, much to the dismay of Victor MacLaglen who's Donlevy's sidekick, prone to playing practical jokes, and thinks he has it in with her. The acting is uniformly bad; I guess Stanwyck and Taylor were too much in love at the time to care. The story deserved better than this. A secret only you and the President share you would think should take precedence over run-of-the mill movie romance. Unless it involves a cigar and a stained dress...

Years before Robert Taylor and Barbara Stanwyck were married, they made a couple of films together: His Brother's Wife and This Is My Affair. If you're looking for cute chemistry, rent the 1937 movie, because the first film they made together isn't particularly romantic.

In this one, Robert Taylor gets sent on a secret undercover mission by President McKinley to help catch bank robbers. It sounds like an extremely lame plot, and while no one would ever accuse this movie of turning into a classic, if you want to see an acting couple who eventually got married, you can rent it. Bob goes undercover, with only a secret symbol to write on his letters as proof that the president is on his side, and along the way falls in love with nightclub singer Barbara Stanwyck.

One of the fun parts of the movie, besides seeing the lovebirds together, is Sidney Blackmer's Theodore Roosevelt impression. He's very entertaining, and the script includes several of the President's famous quotes to make audiences chuckle.

...from 20th Century Fox and director William A. Seiter. US President William McKinley assigns naval lieutenant Richard Perry (Robert Taylor) to go undercover in order to find and stop a bank robbery ring in Minnesota. The job is so sensitive that no one is aware of Perry's true identity and mission other than McKinley himself. Once in Minnesota, Perry connects the gang to a casino run by Batiste Duryea (Brian Donlevy) and his right-hand man Jock Ramsey (Victor McLaglen). Perry tries to gain entry to the gang while also romancing Batiste's stepsister singer Lil Duryea (Barbara Stanwyck), who had been Jock's girl. This is all leads to confrontations, double-crosses, and...well, any history buff can probably guess what happens. Also featuring Frank Conroy as William McKinley.

This silly circumstances of the plot lead to a decent undercover cop story with a lot of interesting actors. Stanwyck and Taylor's real life romance helped their on-screen chemistry, although it didn't help Stanwyck's singing voice. Sidney Blackmer makes for what may be the screen's worst Teddy Roosevelt.