Prestige

Is very good as Verlaine, military man assigned to field outpost in Saigon circa 1900's. His wife, Therese Verlaine is portrayed by Ann Harding, whose father is in charge of her husband's assignments.

When she first embarks to join her husband, her father issues the speech as quoted on title page. ..."It is their job to uphold higher standards to restore order....to rise up to the upbringing and status of the white man"... . This he says is "prestige" (which today is rather out of context, the word prestige in America has been decimated to a materialistic meaning and has nothing to do with honor or pride in today's America. Sadly, I might add.

However, it is an interesting antiquated viewpoint. Verlaine is in charge of a rather ramshackle bamboo prison in the third world country then known as, Annam (later North and South Vietnam). Captain Verlaine tries to rule with an iron fist at first as we see a prisoner is executed for a petty crime in the most brutal fashion. There is some sort of gallows device made of bamboo. The scene is very effective and believable.

Then Captain Remy Baudoin arrives as he is friends with Therese and wants to see if she is surviving the jungle and heat. He somewhat cheers her up, to which Verlaine becomes drunk, jealous of his wife's friendship and angry at his overall job requirements. Douglas is believable here, while very young and unless most of us check the credits we would not be sure this was him.

The natives eventually revolt, as Therese first visits the prison and is shocked at the conditions. She is disturbed that her husband maintains such a facility, for native peoples whose primary crime is poverty. They eventually revolt but succumb in the end, Captain Verlaine has restored order.

While the story is a bit unreal at times, the photography (mostly filmed in Venice, FL) is intriguing and realistic, we can feel the heat and what it must be like to live in a bamboo hut in 104 degree, humid temperatures.

Well worth seeing for the era, the dialog and Douglas in an early dramatic role. 9/10.

The mostly B director, who made a lot of exotic back-lot adventures (his amusing memoir is called "Light Up Your Torches and Pull Up Your Tights"), is blessed with the most mobile camera 1931 could offer in this impressively atmospheric melodrama, set mainly in an Indochine penal colony, where bride Ann Harding has come to help commanding officer Melvyn Douglas. Garnett and his DP roam all over the place, with some tracking shots that are quite amazing for their time--one, taking Harding and Adolphe Menjou from a hotel lobby to a train station, lasts a couple of minutes and takes in every word of dialog, and is perfectly framed. Some of the tracking isn't to any particular purpose, but it's a lesson in how versatile the sound camera had gotten in just two years (compare this to anything from 1929). The premise is offensively racist and may have raised some eyebrows even in its day: As Harding's stiff-upper-lip father tells her, in so many words, she and Douglas are fighting for the white man's prestige and dignity, by proving their ability to lord it over all other races. But if you can put up with that, you get a sweaty, compelling little picture with some show-stopping set pieces. Harding is, as always, womanly and unforced, with an innate calm, and Douglas, replacing Robert Williams, who died unexpectedly, convincingly goes through some awful mood swings. It's very well and innovatively shot on what may be an RKO back lot but sure looks like the real thing. The climax strains credibility, and Garnett pushes harder for atmosphere than he absolutely has to, but it's interesting throughout and quite different from much of the assembly-line studio product of the day.

This is RKO's entry in the "White Man's Grave" genre. Being an Ann Harding (queen of the women's picture) vehicle, it lacks the ineffable luridness of most early Hollywood jungle melodramas (White Woman, Red Dust, Panama Flo, etc.). Instead, it generally takes the high road in delineating a French colonial officer's descent into despondency and alcoholism in a sweaty Southeast Asian outpost. Enough politically-incorrect dialog and flouting of accepted morals does creep into the picture to place it in the pre-code realm, but much less than one might expect.

Although long-forgotten, the film definitely has many points to recommend it. The ever-reliable Hollywood helmsman Tay Garnett here evinces a startling obsession with keeping the camera moving -- it's just one complex tracking shot after another, with several long pans thrown in. When the camera does remain static, it's often to emphasize a dramatic moment, and quite effectively so.

Also, long before the infusion of liberal ideals into Hollywood's view of third-world relations, this picture's take is surprisingly modern. The protagonists learn their lesson in dignity from a remarkably loyal and noble native servant (played by the great thespian Clarence Muse). At the same time, the clearly delineated incompatibility between the French and the natives shows the futility of the "white man's burden" philosophy.

For those interested in prevailing (or at least socially acceptable) American attitudes toward Third World colonial territories and non-white races in 1932, this film is a potent educational tool. Melvyn Douglas plays a French army officer who is assigned to supervise a prison camp in the boonies of Indochina, the inmates of which seem to spend half their time drinking and gambling and the other half lying on their backs in a barracks with their feet manacled. Douglas, whose character disintegrates into alcoholism from the relentless heat, humidity, isolation and boredom of his post, leaps from one emotional state to the next; he hits each note with power and gusto, but there is no gradation between the notes, giving his behavior an unstable, almost schizophrenic effect; one wonders if this was the fault of the script, the director, the editor or Douglas himself. Ann Harding as the sweetheart who follows him to Indochina and Adolphe Menjou as a rival French officer deliver their standard performances. Director Tay Garnett indulges in frequent tracking shots and almost constant dollying and wobbling around furniture, doorways, mirrors or whatever is available. Yet somehow the film has a sluggish feel. The soundtrack of the print I saw on TCM has deteriorated so that some dialogue exchanges are difficult to understand.

Early on Ian MacLaren as Harding's father (also an army officer) explains to her that the most important thing to remember while in Indochina is the "prestige" of the white race. This concept echoes throughout the film as Harding repeatedly reminds Douglas to keep his head up, i.e., physically embody his racial prestige. Indochina itself, as represented on what must be the RKO-Pathe back lot, is populated mostly by not only Asians but also by other non-white races. Douglas's personal servant (Clarence Muse) is black. Perhaps the French, for their own reasons, shuffled their non-white subjects from one colony to another or the filmmakers ran out of Asian extras and thought any other non-Caucasians would do as "natives." For tropical atmosphere, there is the inevitable brief shot of crocodiles plopping into a river as well as a shot of a swarm of ants on a table where Harding has left an open box of chocolates (why the candy hadn't melted to syrup in the umpteen hours/days she has been traveling upriver in the tropics is not explained). Toward the end, during a mutiny, Douglas manages to intimidate an armed, seething mob by holding his head up, removing his gun and marching through them, swiping various menacing individuals on the face with his whip, causing them to draw back. For some reason never made clear, there are repeated shots of natives operating a huge water wheel; it's picturesque. All of the characters except Harding and Menjou are seen sweating profusely in every shot. Strange, because these two actors are the most overdressed for the climate.

"Race" has become a Hot Topic in the Media brought to the Forefront by the Election of the First Black President of the United States. Of Course the Scourge of Bigotry is Still Around, but We sure have Come Along Way.

Colonial Rule in South East Asia is On Display in this Pre-Code Film and is Considered Honorable, Patriotic, and the Movie Makes it Clear that to Uphold the "Prestige" of the White Man is a Noble and Proud Thing, and the Darker Races are Less than Human.

Director Tay Garnett Makes All of this "Artistic" with a Fluid Camera. Like a Kid with a New Toy, He uses the, Recently Released from its Immobility, Camera to Dolly Continuously and it Adds a New Dimension to the Art of Cinema and Considering the Cumbersome Technical Tools of the Time, it is Rather an Amazing Display of Daring.

Overly Empathetic Viewers will Cringe and May have a Tough Time Sitting through the Ethnocentricities of the Film. There is Torture, Executions, and Generally the Locals are Treated like Animals. There's Some Creepy Stuff here and it Reminds of "Island of Lost Souls" (1933) with its Third Act as the Natives become Restless and are Out for Revenge.

The Power, or "Prestige" if You will, of the White Man is Brought Home with Melvyn Douglas Beating Off a Horde of Haughty Types with Nothing More than a Belt and a Dirty Look.

The Movie is So Much a Sign of its Time and is Recommended for a Sweaty and Sometimes Depressing Peak at Attitudes of the Day through the Adventurous Setting Worlds Away from the Homeland, but Not Really.