Thunderbolt

... at least for early sound. The title character in particular, Thunderbolt, played by George Bancroft, is a rather complex gangster character for a dawn of sound movie. What do you say about a man who'd go to great lengths to kill a fellow he has never met just on general principle but who loves the stray dog that causes him to finally get pinched and put in the death house to the point that when the death house warden grants him a favor, Thunderbolt asks for that same dog to stay in his cell as a pet? Fay Wray, only 21 at the time, plays Ritzy, Thunderbolt's girl, with a sense of world-weariness that is wise beyond her years. When the film opens she's being hassled by the police to give up Thunderbolt's hiding place in some really classic early sound police interrogation scenes. Ironically, she really wants to be free of Thunderbolt, who swears he'll never let her go, especially if there's another guy involved, and there is - bank teller Bob Morgan played by Richard Arlen.

The first third of the film moves about quite a bit with some great jazz age settings, but the last two-thirds is primarily confined to the death house where Thunderbolt awaits his appointment with the chair. There's lots of atmosphere in this one with the death row quartet that keeps getting broken up as one fellow is executed and then restarted as another inmate enters. The death row warden is an interesting fellow, with eccentricity and nervousness balanced by a humane streak to the point that he seems misplaced - he seems like he'd be happier managing the shoe department in some retail store.

The end has a surprise twist to it that makes Thunderbolt rethink his rather complex plan of revenge just as he makes that last walk to the chair. I'm being intentionally vague here so I don't ruin it for you. Watch it for the surprising sophistication of this early sound piece, for the kind of atmosphere you can always count on in a von Sternberg film, and for that general touch of class that you find in the early Paramount talkies.

For some reason I thought this film was a talkie remake by Josef von Sternberg of his great silent Underworld. Although George Bancroft is again the star here (and won an Oscar nomination for best actor) this is an entirely different storyline.

Bancroft stars a a tough hood in love with Fay Wray. But she's trying to go straight with Richard Arlen, who works in a bank. A man hunt captures Bancroft and convicts him to death row. But even from the cell, Bancroft is able to frame Arlen for a murder during a ban robbery. Arlen is sentenced to death row and ends up across the hall from Bancroft. Will there be fairness? Will there be redemption? As in Underworld, Bancroft is terrific as the obsessed and all-powerful thug. His voice is great as he growls and groans and threatens. Wray looks stunning, and Arlen is good as the innocent man.

For a 1929 talkie, this film has its stagnant moments when the editors didn't know when to cut. But it also features some terrific work by von Sternberg.

The entrance scene into the jazz club is a barrage of trellises and picket fences... quite beautiful... and also boasts a really nice song from Theresa Harris (who usually played a maid). There's also a wondrous scene where Arlen has been hurt and is being tended by his mother (Eugenie Besserer). While's she's applying iodine, he pulls his hands away and the bottle smashes. Both try to clean it up and the scene ends in a giggling tickle fight. Totally unexpected and totally wonderful.

Fred Kohler plays a convict. Tully Marshall is marvelous is a jittery warden.

The ending is probably expected but is beautifully done.

Nobody would argue that 1929 was a year of classic movies. Amongst the flotsam and jetsam however there's APPLAUSE and a few other good ones..... and this as well - almost. What a difference a top director and screenwriter can make!

This isn't a gangster film, it's an intelligently written character study and in-depth look into the mind of a mobster. You find writer Jules Furthman's name on virtually every other classic Hollywood picture of the 20s, 30s and 40s. His style was quality and his skill was creating believable engaging stories with real genuine characters. His story was further adapted by H Mankiewicz - who wrote the scripts for the probably the other half of the classics from this period. Needless to say - this is well written with fascinating and deeply faceted characters.

Josef von Sternberg directed this which by the look of it was his fiftieth talkie. Surely it's impossible that this was his first sound film? Being made in 1929, it's still a little experimental, not quite everything works so this is not one of his best pictures. Nevertheless he creates a brooding almost surreal atmosphere with real tension. That style intensifies significantly in the latter part of the film on death row which has an almost dream like feel about it.

The story is tense, the characters are believable, the production is innovative but this is not a perfect film. To enable clear sound recording, some but not all of the actors speak very slowly which sounds especially weird when the actor they're talking with is speaking normally. Actors had their own individual vocal coaches then with different techniques thus the inconsistency and maybe not being a native English speaker, von Sternberg probably didn't notice the subtle differences.

As great a director as he was, von Sternberg was given the impossible task of trying to make Fay Wray seem like a proper actress. Not even he could do that and predictably she's absolutely dreadful. As always she just projects that limp, whining and insipid expression to convey whatever emotion she's trying to express.

Whether she's pretending to be a hard as nails gangster's moll or a reformed, sweet and vulnerable fragile young thing she's that same bland, shallow character. Not only can't she act but in this she doesn't appear to be able to speak English - what on earth is that accent! She's meant to be a girl from the streets so why is she doing history's worst impression of Queen Mary? That two men could be besotted with this dull sour-faced non-entity completely stretches all credibility.

If you can get past the really rather stilted production here - almost stage bound in it's presentation, this is quite an entertaining film that sees the authorities on the trail of the most wanted "Thunderbolt" (George Bancroft). He is elusive, though - and their only route to him might be through his ex-girfriend "Ritzie" (Fay Wray) - but she isn't playing ball for reasons of her own. It's only when "Thunderbolt" makes good on an earlier threat he made to her about seeing anyone else, that the police see some light. The performances are fine, not great but the writing is really quite good - plenty of quirky vernacular and it moves along well despite the frequent silent movie style direction and scene framing from Josef von Sternberg. There is also quite an enjoyable contribution from a blues ensemble and though certainly dated, this is still worth a watch almost 100 years later.

Sternberg's first Talkie is virtually a retread of his UNDERWORLD (1927), with the same leading man – George Bancroft – no less. However, while ably flanked by his co-stars there, he is practically the whole show this time around (Fay Wray and Richard Arlen being no match for Evelyn Brent and Clive Brook) and, consequently, the role earned Bancroft his sole Oscar nomination (and the film's as well)! Anyway, the director's approach to Sound was not as experimental as may have been anticipated (resorting to Death Row histrionics and even a number of songs to showcase the format!) and the end result is hardly dazzling in this regard – though the dialogue is surprisingly clean, i.e. audible, for such an early example. Conversely, the visual aspect of the film, usually the director's main concern, is greatly diluted here through the poor quality of the copy I watched which also sported forced German subtitles!

Bancroft is once again a gangster (as before, his activity remains undisclosed throughout, apart from lording it up in an almost exclusively-black nightclub!) and his moll eventually leaves him for another, younger and handsomer, man. Here, too, the mobster is caught and imprisoned – in a wonderful scene where he shows compassion for a mutt, subsequently proving inseparable, thus preceding Raoul Walsh's HIGH SIERRA by 12 years! Yet, he ingeniously has his associates frame the rival for a murder they committed (the development of this particular plot strand is unfortunately rather muddled) and the hero winds up in the cell opposite Bancroft's. As in UNDERWORLD, Fred Kohler also appears here to antagonize the latter – besides lanky warden Tully Marshall and an Irish guard whose name the protagonist continually tries to guess (with the droll pay-off coming at the film's very conclusion).

Wray and her mother plead with the gangster to do the right thing and clear Arlen of his crime but, of course, he will have none of that at the start. Again, however, Bancroft is softened and confesses his role in the young man's entrapment just hours before his execution is due; I have to wonder here why he, a first-time felon, is scheduled to die before the much sought-after "Thunderbolt"! – yes, the film's title is a reference to the character's nick-name. In any case, the moll's own admission that she had left her lover for the gangster rather than the other way around makes the latter realize, as was the case in UNDERWORLD, that he is in the way and gladly accepts his fate. Incidentally, speaking of references to the director's earlier work, Wray and Arlen are made to undergo a hasty marriage here – much like Bancroft himself and Betty Compson in THE DOCKS OF NEW YORK (1928)!