Millie

Soap Opera following the exploits of Millie Blake (Helen Twelvetrees) and her "love parade" of heels. This film spans nearly twenty years as we watch our Millie go from jittery young girl scared to face her honeymoon bed (as her new hubby presses "Are you sleepy yet?"), to rich, bored, and lonesome wife and mother, to divorcée working the counter of a cigar stand fending off "offers" from men, to mother who will stop at nothing to help save her teenage daughter's virtue. Millie soon realizes that "all men are tramps" - and it's true, at least in her world - all the men in this film are just complete womanizing cads, and one man goes even further than that when he attempts to pursue a very innocent sixteen year old girl (who calls him "Uncle"), rubbing her ankles, ladling her with "cider", and getting her to put on one of his assortment of "Mandarin Coats".

This pre-code film has it all - from a montage of a day at Coney Island to cat fights to divorce to bootleg cocktail parties to two blondes in negligees sharing a double bed all the way to the schemes of a lecher. It is really fun to watch the scenes with Millie's two blonde gal pals, childhood friend Angie and her bed friend Helen, a feisty, tough, wisecracking sort of gal - these two women run through men, booze, and outlandish fur, satin, and chiffon gowns like water. There is a nice musical number in one nightclub scene, a rendition of "Millie, the Red Head". This film actually becomes quite serious in later scenes, bringing it to a satisfying climax. Very good.

"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.

This creaky antique reworking of Madame X is of interest mainly for its pre-code ingredients, blatant lesbianism, unpunished sex outside marriage etc., than any real value as a film. A lot of the film techniques are reminiscent of silents showing the growing pains of films continued into the early thirties. Part of the problem with the film is that all the men talk about how the heroine gets under a man's skin and they can't get over her but Helen Twelvetrees exudes none of the magnetism that makes that believable. The supporting players add more to the picture than the leads with Lilyan Tashman having the most fun as a party girl with Joan Blondell and Frank McHugh both starting out but already stealing scenes with their patented personas firmly in place. Except for the three of them the acting is extremely florid, especially towards the end. An almost unrecognizable Anita Louise, still beautiful but so young, is cast as Millie's daughter.

Millie is one of those pre-code drama which starts with a pre-World War I setting and takes us deep into the Depression. Helen Twelvetrees is in the title role, but in fact this one could definitely be called a woman's picture. First for the fact that the best roles are for the women and that the men here are mostly dogs.

Millie starts with Helen Twelvetrees as an eager young bride who's run away with the richest, handsomest boy in town. They have a kid, but he starts stepping out on her soon enough. She sacrifices in the way Stella Dallas did and gradually she goes through a variety of men all of whom disappoint her one way or another. Twelvetrees also has some gal pals like Joan Blondell and Lilyan Tashman always with an 'I told you so' for all occasions.

But the mother instincts are aroused when one of her men, producer and rake, John Halliday starts moving on her daughter Anita Louise. Then this film starts resembling Madame X.

Twelvetrees made a career of playing tragic parts like in Millie kind of mirroring her own life. There are some great lines coming from her, Blondell and Tashman. For them alone this film is worth a view.

Helen Twelvetrees (Millie) stars as the title character in a soap opera story of her life. We follow her as she gets married to wealthy James Hall (Jack) as an innocent girl and we end up almost 20 years later. How does she change during this period? Pretty drastically.

The supporting cast are good despite every character being portrayed as deceitful - the men are cheaters and the women are gold-diggers. Lilyan Tashman (Helen) and Joan Blondell (Angie) have the most entertainng parts and they are funny with their dialogue. They also provide some glamour with their outfits and the sets are interesting. We also get creepy John Halliday (Jimmy) who keeps trying his luck with Twelvetrees over the course of the film. Well, if the girl doesn't wanna play what's a man to do?

It's a woman's film from the early 1930s and is of historical interest as that.