Valet d'argent

The plot here, while basic in it's elements is generally weak. It mulls over important details, most characters are little more than furniture, and by all rights, it should be a lousy B move.

But Edward G. Robinson and his near unmatched talent as an actor, and his relentless effort to turn in amazing performances no matter the movie, holds this film together, making it watchable, and acceptable.

Edward G. Robinson truly holds the ability to turn Chicken Crap into Silver and Gold

In the dated but epic storyline of Silver Dollar, Edward G. Robinson has so much ambition it becomes his tragic flaw. He's a poor shop owner with his hardworking wife Aline MacMahon and their baby son. They've moved from town to town whenever his ambition has gotten the better of him; one night he's been elected mayor, and the next morning everyone hates him because he owes them money. By chance, one of his hunches turns out right: He agrees to let some panhandlers renege on their grocery bill if he gets signed on as a partner if they strike the motherload. Aline is totally against it, but the men find silver and they're all rich. Once again, Eddie G is elected mayor, and he's determined to rise from there.

This rags-to-riches story is a classic cautionary tale of forgetting what's important once you have achieved what you thought was important. Eddie G prioritizes money above all else, and it changes him. He ignores his wife, doesn't have an influence in raising his son, and thinks belonging to high society is the most important thing. Of course, he values lousy people, gets corrupt inside, and even believes he's entitled to an extramarital affair. I would never condone infidelity, but if the movie was supposed to portray it as something bad, it didn't do its job. Aline doesn't act like she loves her husband, or even likes him. She never supports him, and neither make each other happy in the slightest. When Eddie G finds Bebe Daniels, he gains a new lease on life. She likes, loves, and supports him - and when he's with her, he feels intense happiness. "I love to do things for you. You enjoy it so," he drawls in their courtship phase, before giving her decolletage a lengthy glance. Bebe isn't portrayed to be a gold digger or homewrecker, but instead merely a loving alternative to the unfulfilling life he's lived so far.

I've tried to give Aline MacMahon quite a few chances, but I've never liked her style of acting. In this drama, I thought she'd finally impress me, since she was younger and finally in a meaty role. However, as Eddie G's long-suffering wife, she was melodramatic at best and lousy at worst. I'd expect better from community theater. When she and her husband have a particularly hurtful fight, she stares at him deadpan, then suddenly raises her hands to her head and screams. Had Ann Harding, Beulah Bondi, or a frumped-up Gladys George been cast in the role instead, Silver Dollar would have been a very good drama. Eddie G's talent and devotion to the role is almost enough to make us forget about Aline, but not quite. With a different actress, it could have been an A-picture listed among his best. Definitely check it out this tragedy if you're an Eddie G fan; just don't expect much from its leading lady.

One of the few westerns that is in the catalog of Edward G. Robinson films is this one Silver Dollar. In it Robinson plays the legendary Horace A.W. Tabor of the Colorado Tabors who if you believed this version lucked into a vast fortune. I can't believe the real Tabor didn't have some kind of shrewdness in his makeup.

In the film Robinson's character is named Yates Martin and he's a big hearted big spender type who drives his wife Aline McMahon to distraction with his generous ways. She convinces him that he ought to open a general store, but he grubstakes miners for a return of a share. It pays off beyond anyone's wildest dreams when in played out gold fields rich deposits of silver are found rivaling those of Nevada's Virginia City. In no time he's Lieutenant Governor of Colorado and briefly a U.S. Senator.

He also gets himself a trophy wife in Bebe Daniels after Robinson tires of McMahon's hectoring ways. It's quite true that Robinson owed his fortune to pure luck. But prospecting and grubstaking prospectors is a matter of a lot of luck.

Here and in real life the story was a scandal of the Victorian Age as divorce was something not done in polite society. Today these people would make great fodder for the scandal sheets and Daniels would be the Victorian Age's Anna Nicole Smith.

Robinson is as expansive as he ever has been playing a modern crime boss either seriously or for laughs. He always had a knack for playing characters who liked to live it up when they were in the chips starting with his career role of Little Caesar.

As for McMahon she treads a thin line in her performance. You feel sorry for her when she gets flung out. But at the same time you can understand in more ways than carnal why Robinson did it.

Silver Dollar is a film I wish was shown more. It's Edward G. Robinson in an unusual, but at the same time familiar part.

From 1932, Silver Dollar stars Edward G. Robinson, Aline McMahon, and Bebe Daniels.

This film is based on the life of silver magnate Horace Tabor, whose life is the subject of an opera, The Ballad of Baby Doe. Baby Doe was a signature role for Beverly Sills.

It's a rag to riches to rags story, of a man named Yates Martin and his wife Sarah, who left their farm to come to Colorado to search for gold. Sarah encourages Yates to open a store rather than continue what she thinks is a fruitless hunt, so he does. To her disgust, he makes deals with the miners that he will give them free goods if they will sign over one-third of whatever they find. Of course, Sarah expects them to find nothing. She's wrong.

Yates over time becomes terribly rich, successful politically, and too big for his britches. He falls in love with the beautiful Lily Owens and leaves Sarah, settling the house and $250,000 on her. Then the Panic of 1893 occurred, and silver was devalued to almost nothing.

This was a wonderful role for Edward G. Robinson, a little man with a huge talent. He does a fantastic job. Aline McMahon is fantastic as Sarah, and she is indeed like the real Augusta Tabor, at least as I've seen her portrayed. In the film, Sarah wants to help Yates, but he refuses.

Augusta Tabor in real life invested her money and died one of the wealthiest people in Denver. In the opera anyway she is bitter and angry, and even when she wants to go to her ex-husband, she can't.

Bebe Daniels glitters as Yates' mistress and second wife, Lily. Like the Tabor situation, this was a true love match, and she stayed by her husband.

The real Horace did hold the postmaster position for a year before he died, unlike in the film. Horace's final wish was that Baby Doe never give up the Matchless Mine. She never did; in fact, that's where she died, in a nearby shack.

The script is somewhat spotty -- this strong story could have used better writing. It's a real piece of Americana.

A great, lively American story that happens to be true. The same source material was used, with somewhat more accuracy, in the 1950s American opera "The Ballad of Baby Doe." (The Baby Doe of the title was still alive when the movie was made, hence the need to change all the names and fictionalize some of the details.) Robinson is excellent as a likeable, but foolish and blustering, millionaire miner with political ambitions; MacMahon is flawless as his stern but understanding wife. Their story, of how he made and lost a name and a fortune for himself, is the stuff of fine melodrama. What happens to them says much about the vagaries of capitalism, the arbitrariness of the metals standard, and the pettiness of American moral attitudes, but most of all it's good entertainment. Alfred E. Green's direction is nothing fancy, just capable and fast. And the size of the production is just right. Historical note: The real Baby Doe (Lily in the movie) stuck by her man and held onto the Matchless Mine, as per his instructions. She became a legendary eccentric in Leadville, walking the streets and telling her story to anyone who would listen, before freezing to death in her cabin in 1935.