Bachelor Apartment

Lowell Sherman was a star and director of silent films and talkies until his death in 1934. His best-remembered films are probably Way Down East (1920) and What Price Hollywood? (1932). In Bachelor Apartment he stars as a rich New York playboy who seems to have an endless parade of women going through his apartment. At one point he tells is butler (Charles Coleman) that he is "going hunting" and returns with a silly woman (Noel Francis) with whom he dallies until prim Irene Dunne comes hunting for her sister. Funny and risqué, this film deals rather openly about sexuality, teasing, infidelity, and "getting what you want." Sherman and Dunne are terrific as the sparring boss and steno, but Mae Murray bizarrely steals the several scenes she is in. Murray, a silent-film queen of the teens and 20s, made only 3 talkies. At age 40, she's still trying to be the sex goddess and comes off as being unlikely and unlikable. Murray affects a baby lisp and vamps and saunters about. She looks pretty good but she seems very otherworldly.

Claudia Dell is annoying as the dumb sister, Ivan Lebedeff plays a dancer, Norman Kerry (also a silent star) plays a producer, Bess Flowers is the woman who lost her necklace, Lee Phelps is the cop, and Arline Judge is one of the secretaries.

Dunne was always good, and Sherman has a terrific comic roue act that always borders on being quite gay. But watch him closely in this film (which he also directed) and study his comic timing and the pacing of his comebacks. The dialog is snappy and suggestive. Coleman and Francis are also very good indeed.

Lowell Sherman, who also directed Katharine Hepburn in Morning Glory) is long forgotten but certainly deserves to be remembered as a wonderful actor and fine director.

It may be 1931, but there's no hint of an economic depression among the well-upholstered lounge lizards of Manhattan. It's pretty much a steady round of casual couplings and uncouplings among the urban sophisticates. Not much of a plot except for middle-aged Lothario (Sherman) slowly falling for nice girl Helene (Dunne). Movie's main interest is in its provocative pre-Code liberties—innuendoes fly fast, while some clinging gowns leave little to the imagination. It's a talky script with some clever lines, and if there's little action, at least director Sherman keeps things moving. The comedy is more occasional than sparkling, but does have its moments, even though Dunne surprisingly gets few laugh lines. All in all, it's a fairly entertaining antique with a good glimpse of bygone fashions.

Another of the movies I would not think of watching but for Irene Dunne, playing anything but swank comedy here. It consists of basically two types of characters. One is ladies in lingerie or revealing gowns. (Dunne wears neither but at one point we see her in her boss's bathrobe.) The other is gentlemen who appear to prefer other gentlemen.

One of these is its director and star, Lowell Sherman. He had a solid hand as a director and is likable as a performer. But he's a little hard to buy as a ladies' man. And in one scene, he goes to a friend's apartment, demanding to see who's in the bedroom. Instead of the woman he's looking for, two men are there. They're fully clothed and maybe the audience at the time thought they were sleeping off hangovers. Maybe that's what the script meant, for all I know. But it's not the way they come across in the context of the movie.

The print I saw was fuzzy but it's chic and entertaining -- dated but also risqué.

Lowell Sherman plays wealthy businessman and playboy Wayne Carter who is juggling lots of women. He's not just NOT the marrying kind, he actively uses them and loses them. The easier they are to get the quicker he loses them as it seems the chase is 90% of the thrill for him. Then he meets a woman he cannot get - stenographer Helene Andrews (Irene Dunne). He can't tempt her with nice things, and he can't sweet talk her with his obvious come-ons. So he hires her as an executive secretary at his firm, and even that takes some talking for her to believe that this is anything but what it looks like - a long con attempt to get into her pants.

But then Carter starts to truly fall for Helene. The problem is that he, as part of his long con, has been extremely open about his love life and so any abrupt change in him would be eyed very suspiciously by Helene. The most complicating factor is an old flame of Carter's (Mae Murray) who married a rich man in his circle but who has decided that she wants to stay married to the rich guy but pick up her sex life with Carter where they left off before the marriage. And she's not averse to showing up unannounced at his penthouse, undressing, and jumping into his bed to wait for him. Complications ensue.

Subplots involve Dunne's showbiz sister (Claudia Dell) who, unlike Dunne's character, doesn't have a problem with sleeping her way to the top. Sherman had a breezy delivery of lines and a rapid-fire, almost overlapping way of doing dialog that seems very modern. You also get the feeling he ad libs constantly. The real curiosity here is Murray who was 45+ but is dressed like a woman in her 20s with an odd baby-talk way of speaking. It really is outrageous. Purnell Pratt plays Murray's husband who has murderous intent if he ever finds out who it is that his wife is seeing behind his back.

This was Irene Dunne's third feature film role, and it's not often you would see her pop up in a pre-code film, even with her usual virtuous persona.

I didn't expect much from this film when I first saw it, not knowing who Lowell Sherman was and figuring it would be extremely dated.

I found out the film provided some good laughs, some clever sarcastic dialog, realistic characters and a certain charm at the same time.

Sherman might have been a bit too old to be playing the role of playboy but he carried it off, being enjoyable to watch. It was fun seeing such a young Irene Dunne, too, complete with the early '30s short hairstyle. Unlike most of the women pictured in this film, Dunne played her typical high-principled character, reflecting the classy lady she was off screen, too.