Millie

It seems there was a curse on "Millie." Its four co-stars, Helen Twelvetrees, Lylian Tashman, Robert Ames and James Hall all died before they turned 50. As for the movie itself, its pre-code message is that all men are beasts who crave only one thing. The point is made through the saga of Millie Blake whom we first meet as a bashful bride on her wedding night (though even bucket loads of make-up can't hide the fact that Helen Twelvetrees is no teen-ager.) Nor is her paunchy husband an Adonis. Three years and a child later, she catches hubby canoodling with his mistress at a night club, files for divorce and valiantly (if stupidly) relinquishes the alimony she was entitled to. Plucky lass! From there on in, Millie fends off -- or gives in, depending on how you interpret the cutaways -- to a succession of over-age lotharios. But when one of them makes a play for her 16-year-old daughter, she has no choice. She has to shoot the dastard. By today's standards, Millie's sudsy exploits would be almost laughable. But by the standards of 1930/31, as movies were just learning to talk, it qualifies as an interesting (and sometimes downright entertaining) museum piece.

Prolific director John Francis Dillon's 1931 "Millie" is a curiosity piece, a pastiche of poor editing and some sprightly acting vignettes.

Millie, Helen Twelvetrees, starts off as a swept-off-her-feet kid eloping with handsome and ambitious Jack Maitland, James Hall. Her shaking virgin-wedding night-do we have to go to bed?- scene is very funny, one of the best of its kind on old film.

Ensconced in Westchester County outside NYC, Jack makes big bucks and Millie, now three years on and with a little girl, is neglected, bored and angry at her absent husband. A reunion with two girlfriends at a cabaret brings an encounter with an errant Jack and his foul-mouthed paramour who gets a sock in the jaw from Millie.

Divorced and working in New York City, Millie leads a socially active life with fast-track friends and wild parties. Reflecting the hesitancy of many directors and script writers at the time it's never really clear if Millie goes beyond gay partying to hop into the sack with rabidly panting, pursuing men, some already married.

Millie has one true male admirer, a reporter named Tommy, played by Robert Ames. A drunken twit tells Millie he's fooling around with another woman and she believes her, ending the best relationship she's had. Tommy's a sad case.

The story turns melodramatic when an older man-about-Manhattan, long obsessed with Millie, shows an unhealthy interest in her now gorgeous teenage daughter, Connie. The denouement is predictable but there's a nice trial scene to wrap things up.

"Millie" skirts on the border of dealing openly with adultery and promiscuousness. What is unusual is that the film has a clear sapphic subtext depicting Millie's two girlfriends as sexually involved - the first scene they're in shows them in bed in nightclothes. THAT was very unusual for the times. I wonder how many 1930s moviegoers picked up on that.

Most of the cast isn't well known other than to aficionados of pre-war films. Joan Blondell, whose career was in the ascendancy, is young Angie, a flighty friend of Millie and probable lover of her other girlfriend.

Better direction and editing would have improved a basically interesting story. It's a museum piece worth seeing if you care about how Hollywood portrayed extramarital flings, lechery, boozing and partying in the grand old Pre-Code Days.

5/10.

"Work?!? You won't have any time for opportunity!"

This forgotten RKO drama has been rediscovered since Roan Group released their beautiful,spotless DVD of it. While not much more than a "B" programmer, it's still fascinating, especially in its depiction of the sexes.

Mille's character, as played by Helen Twelvetrees, is a neurotic and pouty plain jane, so it's hard to imagine why these three men relentlessly go after her. Maybe because the men are neurotic losers themselves (no one in this film is a glamorous beauty by any means). We barely even get to know them, so the suffering she endures from their infidelity does not convince. Still, Twelvetrees gets points for trying.

But Millie's tribulations aren't the real star of this film.

While it's easy to project gay subtexts onto older films, here it's pretty indisputable that Millie's pals Helen and Angie are more than just friends. Watch Helen gussy herself up when she sees Angie across the room in the club. And their relations with men are based solely on financial gain--they clearly turn to each other for their other needs. Both Lilyan Tashman and Joan Blondell are quite funny in the roles, the former a world-wise goldigger and the latter a young, mercenary bubblehead. In their world, men are mere objects to be used with total detachment--the opposite of Millie, who allows herself to be exploited by men and then wallows in self-pity for the next 3 reels.

While not quite the best of pre-Code, MILLIE is still an important footnote for early 30s movie-making, and worth a look for those (like me) who can't get enough of pre-Catholic League Hollywood.

Poor Millie! She marries for love - not money - and still ends up unlucky in love. There's something intriguingly contemporary about her consistently entering into bad relationships. Also contemporary is her decision to live with her boyfriend instead of marrying him - even though he does offer to marry her.

Helen Twelvetrees has the ability to make the heroine's story somewhat compelling despite the film's plodding structure. John Halliday is very appealing as Twelvetrees' suitor until his character turns surprisingly into a cad.

So what's the moral of this "woman's picture?" Millie is so hurt by her broken marriage that perhaps she errs in writing off her unfaithful husband so quickly. In him she may have found the only decent male character in the story.

Fun to see a young Joan Blondell. She and Frank Mc hugh would make TONS of great films over the next 20 years. The sound and picture quality are surprisingly good for such a seldom seen film. Sure, it ain't no Gone with the Wind, but they packed a lot of story into this early love triangle, or quadrilateral, as the case may be.

Gal (Helen Twelvetrees is "Millie") falls in love, and keeps getting shafted by the men in her life. She is determined to be strong and independent, and protect herself and her daughter, Connie, played by Anita Louise. We see the daughter at the beginning, and again near the end, but she kind of disappears for most of the story. She and her two best friends get together and "help" each other whenever there is a crisis. Help is a relative term here... her two friends take a little too much delight in giving her bad news about her husbands and the guys who "done her wrong".

Good fast moving script for the most part. Granted, there are a couple scenes that don't really need to be there (the "drunk" scene, where the two gal pals console each other, and a couple others.) Takes on some bigger issues, way ahead of its time, but watch it for yourself to see what I mean. I think they are showing all kinds of true life "things", if one reads between the lines, that weren't normally talked about in films. I'm really surprised at the lower rating of "6" as of today, but with only 211 votes, I guess it hasn't been seen much. Directed by John Dillon, who had started EARLY on in the silents. You can tell this was a relatively new talkie, since they use title cards here and there. Novel written by Donald Clarke, who also wrote "Female", another story of an early, independent woman, made into film.