Big House

Remember when Caged was such a big deal, shocking the censors and lifting the lid on what really goes on inside a women's prison? Twenty years earlier, and without the constraints of the Hays Code, there was The Big House, a gritty drama lifting the lid on what goes on inside a men's prison. Robert Montgomery is convicted and sent to an overcrowded prison after a drunk driving incident. His cellmates are hardened criminals Wallace Beery and Chester Morris, no match for the innocent newcomer. The latter two have a very interesting dynamic: Wallace is the biggest, baddest criminal on the block, and everyone's afraid to cross him, yet he backs down like a puppy whenever Chester scolds him. It's 1930, and the lack of censors can only show so much, but if you want to, you can definitely interpret their relationship as more than just cellmates.

I enjoyed The Big House as well, since I love seeing Robert Montgomery's curly hair flopping in his face as his eyes light up with liquid fire. There's a lot more to the movie than just eye candy, though, including episodes of solitary confinement, riots, convict gangs, and escape attempts. If you like this oldie, check out Public Hero Number 1 next. It's another great prison drama starring Chester Morris, and the warden is once again Lewis Stone!

Kent (Robert Montgomery) arrives in prison and is put in a cell with Butch (Wallace Beery) and Morgan (Chester Morris), a couple of hardened criminals who run the place. Kent is warned by them to choose his friends wisely. He doesn't.

This is a strange film in that it starts out as Kent's story but gradually turns into Morgan's story. The film moves at a good pace climaxing in the attempted escape where old pals Butch and Morgan have a final confrontation. Robert Montgomery is a wimp/coward/creep in this film while Wallace Beery is the thug.

It's an enjoyable film with a touch of romance thrown in by the storyline involving Anne (Leila Hyams) and Morgan. Morgan escapes and hangs out with Anne and her family. She is Kent's sister. There are tense moments involving him and the policeman that finally re-arrests him. Morgan maintains a smart outlook throughout the film and goes out of his way to protect Kent even though Morgan knows what a traitor Kent has been. Shagging his sister must only increase his inner torment as to what he should do. It all works out nicely in the end!

I saw "The Big House" last night as part of Turner Classic Movies' tribute to Frances Marion, the great female screenwriter. Marion became the first woman to win an Academy Award for screenwriting for her work on this film.

"The Big House" is a fascinating character study, showing how three very different men deal with being imprisoned. Butch (Wallace Beery) lords over all of the men with a knife and threats of violence. John Morgan (Chester Morris) is smart enough to befriend Butch and his crew, but keeps his own set of values. Newcomer Kent Marlowe (Robert Montgomery) is terrified of prison and eventually turns "rat" in hopes of being released.

The film also infers that the public at large is partly to blame for the discontent (and eventual unrest) within the prison: at one moment, the head warden says something to the effect of the public wanting to put criminals in prison, but not wanting to spend the money to build more prisons to accommodate them. This is issue is still debated to this day.

I also found the portrayal of the lone female character, Anne Marlowe (Kent's sister, played by Leila Hyams), very refreshing and unexpected. Instead of the crying, simpering type we might expect in a prison movie, we are given a smart and compassionate woman who owns her own business.

All of the actors gave excellent, realistic performances and Frances Marion's screenplay was well-deserving of the accolades it received. The insight and sensitivity that she used to write about these characters and this place surpasses most of the scripts written by men on the same subject.

The Big House is a 1930 crime-drama film, set in a prison. The story follows several inmates who are all willing to do anything to get out of jail. Whether it is cutting deals, informing on one another, or planning a breakout, each character is pushed to the limits of what a person is willing to do for freedom. As the story progresses, each character must ultimately face the consequences of whatever choice they make, which seems to be the moral of the film.

The Big House is surprisingly sympathetic toward the flaws in the penal system and makes no attempt to hide the horrors of prison. The jail in the film is almost medieval at times with a dungeon for solitary confinement, roach-infested, rotten food, and three men to a closet-sized cell. The story is well-written and the acting is great, for the most part.

The bad parts of the film mostly consists of the silliness, such as obviously fake punches, the phony tough-guy routine, and the cringe-worthy "Who...Me?" line that is repeated throughout. The comedy aspects of the film also fall flat, such as the cross-eyed stutter routine and the exaggerated wide-eyed stupidity role. These elements drag the film down.

Overall, The Big House is worth watching. Honest, enjoyable, and intense, most viewers will have a lot of fun with this film. Despite a few flaws and bad comedy, the amazing prison scenery will keep you drawn to the screen.

THE BIG HOUSE - prison of no hope - the last terminal for lost souls. Only the strong survive; the weak crack or are corrupted. As the warden shrewdly tells a new arrival, the place won't make you go yellow, but it you already are yellow it'll bring it out.

MGM was the only studio in Hollywood which would have let a female write the script for such a strong story. But in Frances Marion they not only had the most celebrated screenwriter in the industry, but also a person uniquely qualified to write about any situation. She headed off to California's notorious San Quentin Prison to observe the conditions & learn the lingo. Cheerfully deflecting the jibes & taunts of guards & prisoners alike, she reminded them that after being a frontline correspondent in the Great War there were few situations she couldn't handle.

The result is a wonderful film, tough, hard-bitten & stark. MGM did itself proud by supplying a terrific cast and production values. The scene where belligerent Wallace Beery refuses to eat the commissary slop remains a classic.

Chester Morris does a fine job as a resourceful crook who is actually helped by his time in prison, reformed against his will. This excellent actor is too often ignored when the histories of 1930's cinema are written. Wallace Beery, as murderous Butch, is absolutely unforgettable. Marion wrote the part with him in mind & it is difficult to imagine anyone else playing it. Lovable & dangerous in equal measure, he steals every scene he's in. THE BIG HOUSE would set Beery firmly on the road to major talkie stardom.

Robert Montgomery, on the cusp of his own salad days as a sophisticated, romantic leading man, here plays quite a different role. As a weak, cowardly stool pigeon, he's cast very much against type. It would be 1937's NIGHT MUST FALL before he received another such finely-nuanced role.

Lewis Stone is very effective in the small role as the tough-as-nails warden. Beautiful Leila Hyams is well-cast as Mongomery's spunky sister. George F. Marion & DeWitt Jennings are both memorable as elderly security guards. Champion stutterer Roscoe Ates provides a few moments of much needed comic relief.

Karl Dane is easily spotted as a hulking convict in several scenes, but he is curiously mute. Doubtless, his thick Danish accent was already giving the Studio trouble. Even though he had been an important comic star in silent pictures, he was quickly relegated to talkie bit parts. He was eventually further reduced to selling hot dogs from a cart outside the MGM front gates. This was the final indignity. He committed suicide in 1934.

Preview audiences were curiously cool to THE BIG HOUSE, until MGM executive Irving Thalberg figured out that female viewers didn't like con Chester Morris romancing another prisoner's wife. Thalberg instructed Marion to rewrite a few scenes and refilming made it clear that Leila Hyams was Robert Montgomery's sister, not his spouse. This pleased the patrons and the movie was a big hit.