Love Among the Millionaires

This was my first movie of Clara Bow. But, I was a fan- because I've seen documentaries and short clips of her and I instantly fell in love with her. She had great charisma, energy. You just have to watch her. I think she was wonderful. She looks at ease. Even though many said she didn't like talkies and her Brooklyn accent wasn't good. So what, Ingrid Bergman, Marlene Dietrich, Greta Garbo, Katharine Hepburn and Jean Harlow had funny accents, but everyone loved them. I wish actresses today had the energy to draw you to them like Clara Bow and others had. This film isn't of her best films. But if your a Clara Bow fan, any film is a delight to see.

I must really know how to pick 'em because three straight movies have found a way to work in blackface: "Sweetie" (1929), "Happy Days" (1930), and this movie, "Love Among the Millionaires" (1930). In the case of "Love Among the Millionaires" I was just cautiously waiting to see what direction they were going to take a lame joke.

Boots McGee (Richard 'Skeets' Gallagher) gave his frenemy Clicker Watson (Stuart Erwin) an oily handkerchief for him to wipe his face. Clicker obligingly took the rag and without looking at it he began wiping his face with it. Naturally, it made his face dark with oil. The little girl (Mitzi Green) had a good laugh at it at which point the joke should've been over. But... they had to slip in some racism.

Boots added more oil to Clicker's face and said, "Now you can order watermelon." An ignorant joke that shouldn't go over the head of anyone. It was clearly an attempt to indicate he was now Black because it's common knowledge (sarcasm) that Black people love fried chicken and watermelon.

A week ago I may have finished watching this movie, but it was the third pre-code movie in a row in which I had to suffer through offensive behavior at the expense of Black folks. There are too many good movies from that era for me to waste my time on tripe like this.

Free on Internet Archive as "Poor Boy, Rich Girl"

Don't ask, Why didn't Clara Bow survive the transition from silent to sound? Ask, How could any actress survive such inappropriate material? "Love Among the Millionaires" is "A Musical Romance". Apparently, Paramount was seeking to try Ms. Bow as a musical comedy star; indeed, musicals were a very popular early sound genre. Bow plays a singing waitress who unwittingly falls in love with millionaire in disguise Stanley Smith (as Jerry Hamilton). She serves "salt, pepper, baloney, and hash." Mr. Smith loves Bow back, but others get in the way…

Smith and young Mitzi Green (as Penelope) show some musical stage ability. The latter performer is a huge misdirected annoyance in this film, however; one might say, "When she was good, she was very, very good; but, when she was bad, she was horrid." The movie is more often horrid. Barbara Bennett ends her brief film career with a brief appearance; she looks, and sounds, like sister Joan. Bow has a "drunk" song. Unfunny lines include, "Now, you can order watermelon!" and "This is our dance".

This is one obnoxious movie.

** Love Among the Millionaires (7/19/30) Frank Tuttle ~ Clara Bow, Stanley Smith, Mitzi Green

This movie came out nine months after the stock market crash of 1929 that began the Great Depression. Hollywood responded to the depression by making many comedies, musicals and other escapist films. "Love Among the Millionaires" would be about as escapist as one could get. Everyone here has a job, there's a very wealthy family, and there's no mention of a stock market crash or depression. And, it's a comedy, musical and Cinderella romance. Only, in this story, the girl doesn't' know her man is a prince.

Yet, with all of those aspects, this film just barely makes it out of the starting blocks. It suffers from much dead-end Vaudeville, a choppy script, and weak production quality. The only good aspects are the convoluted story toward the end, and some scenes of family members running their café.

The film stars Clara Bow, a sex symbol of the Roaring Twenties. She was one of the female leads of the last decade of the silent era who had a good voice and made it into sound pictures. She was a dependable major draw at the box office and one of the highest paid stars of the time. And, she had a moderate singing voice as here and in the 1931 film, "No Limit." But she said she hated "talkies" because they crimped her style. She was dogged with tax problems, and had a lengthy trial over her secretary's mismanagement of her funds. She was tired and felt the pressures of work, public scandals and scripts that weren't to her liking. So, after marrying cowboy actor Rex Bell in 1931, she retired early and lived the rest of her life on their Nevada ranch.

Here, Bow plays Pepper Whipple who runs a railroad café named after her, with her dad, Pop Whipple (Charles Sellon), and her 10-year-old kid sister, Penny Whipple (Mitzi Green). Railroad cafes are a thing of the past. From the early decades of railroads well into the mid-20tth century, such cafes existed in towns that had large railroad yards, branch-off lines, or crew switches. The railroaders tended to congregate around such cafes.

Mitzi Green plays an animated character behind the cash register. She knows the workers by name and exchanges jokes, news and wisecracks with them. This also is a familiar scene from the past. Family members worked in mom and pop cafes, including younger members who often ran the cash register. I had a similar experience from age 12 through my teens, working in my dad's steakhouse restaurant and bar.

Mitzi Green was a child star whose career transitioned into her adult life. But, she left Hollywood for several years and acted on the Broadway stage. She had a good singing voice and in 1937 was the first person to sing the Rodgers and Hart hit tune, "My Funny Valentine," in the Broadway musical, "Babes in Arms." She married and raised four children and appeared in occasional films and then a TV series into the mid-1950s. She died of cancer in 1969 at just 48 years of age.

A big piece of this film is comedy exchanges between two guys, Clicker Watson and Boots McGee. Stuart Erwin and Richard Gallagher play those parts of railroad men who have their eyes set on Pepper. But their dialog is mostly Vaudevillian that flops. By 1930 and sound pictures, Vaudeville comedy was a thing of the distant past. It subtracts substantially from the movie.

The film has a nice twist to the lower-class working girl being an outcast to her love's family. Those are mostly minor parts but played well enough. Most aren't names that people recognized beyond that time. Some, like Stanley Smith who plays Pepper's sweetheart, had relatively short film careers and left the cinema at a young age.

For a Paramount picture, even in 1930, the production and technical aspects of this film aren't very good. The script is choppy, and, frankly, the inclusion of considerable time of deadpan comedy with Clicker and Boots stinks and pulls this film down. Only those who are fans of Clara Bow are likely to enjoy this film.

Here are most of the good lines from the movie.

Clicker Watson, "Say, Bill, are there any "S"es in Cincinnati?" Bill, Telegrapher, "No, you're thinking of Chicago." (He snorts and chuckles.)

Clicker Watson, "There's a name for guys like you, but I can't think of it."

Penny Whipple, "Pardon my split lip." Boots McGee, "I'm sorry I didn't split it." Penny, "Oh, don't be so plebeian."

Boots McGee, "You know, if I'm every electrocuted, I would love to have you sitting on my lap."

Clicker Watson, after washing soot off his face, "Pop, is uh, is the face all right?" Pop Whipple, "Well, it's uh, clean anyway."

William Jordan, "You mean to tell me that you're falling in love with a waitress?" Jerry Hamilton, "No." Jordan, "I thought you were kidding." Jerry, "I've already fallen. I'm lying flat on my back."

Jerry Hamilton, "Oh, Pepper, money isn't everything." Pepper Whipple, "I know. But it'll do till something better comes along."

Jerry Hamilton, "I mean it, Pepper. I think you're... the salt of the earth." Pepper Whipple, "That's funny. Pepper - I think you're the salt."

Jerry Hamilton, "When you're in love, you can't see the patches." Pepper Whipple, "I know. But they're there, just the same."

Boots McGee, to Clicker, "Listen, I'd leave you here, only I don't wanna pull a dirty trick on the alligators."

Pop Whipple, "Four wheels and nine blowouts."

Pop Whipple, "Say, them black seed sandwiches is swell, ain't they, huh?" Mr. Hamilton, "That's caviar." Pop Whipple, "Yeah, yeah. Never had any of it in my beanery, no siree."

Some of my favorite pictures, THIS GUN FOR HIRE; ROMAN SCANDALS; THIS IS THE NIGHT; and some early Clara Bow talkies, were directed by Frank Tuttle. I know he had style, but perhaps the man had patience, for it is written in many places how awful the talking picture experience was for Miss Bow. Tuttle certainly had a knack for keeping things light and entertaining. LOVE AMONG THE MILLIONAIRES was not an easy film to locate, and once I did, I found I must continue my search, for what's available is in pretty lousy condition. In spite of this, Bow manages to shine through, and very often does so with flying colors. Supported by three notorious scene stealers, the best that can be said is that Mitzi Green out-stole the combined efforts of Stu Erwin and Skeets Gallagher. Mercifully, this only effects Clara Bow one time, but unfortunately, it is a glaring one time. Bow does a nice job delivering her songs with inspired pizazz, especially the wordy one's like "Believe it or not, I've found my Man," and "That's Worth While Waiting for," and the just terrific, engaging title duet with Stanley Smith, but she is all at sea trying to put over the best song in the show - "Rarin' to Go!" Not a great singer, Bow could nevertheless sell the goods in a natural, savvy manner that most of the early talkie performers wish they'd had on tap, but when it came to this highly typical fox-trot, she is both visually and aurally flustered. What makes this moment worse is that she is soon followed by her kid sister, portrayed by Mitzi, who launches into her own verse of the song and brings the whole house down. Green was a Vaudevillian, the child of Vaudevillians, and with Vaudeville pumping through her veins it certainly wasn't her fault they handed her that song at that unfortunate moment in the film. This error aside, the picture is a Depression-ready Cinderella tale made palatable by a marvelous match between Bow and Stanley Smith (who has never been better than in this film). As with Astaire and Rogers, Smith instantly gives Bow some class while she unselfishly and unavoidably infuses her co-star with sex-appeal, you know, that girl just couldn't help it. Watch for Connie and Joan's sibling, Barbara Bennett, in one of her few film roles, as Smith's sister.