An American Tragedy

The first and best film adaptation of Theodore Dreiser's classic novel of pointless crime and arbitrary punishment, the 1931 version of AN American TRAGEDY was directed by Josef Von Sternberg, who had just had great success with THE BLUE ANGEL (and who made a total of eight films with star Marlene Dietrich) and who captures the emptiness and isolation and desperate qualities of the characters well. Phillips Holmes, perhaps best known today for GENERAL SPANKY (the strange Our Gang feature film) is a revelation as the heartless, social-climbing Clyde Griffiths, and the young Sylvia Sidney makes a strong impression as the working girl killed in the "accident" that leads to the long trial sequence at the film's end, which is itself a classic of courtroom melodrama. Clyde is represented in court by Charles Middleton (who later played Emperor Ming in the FLASH GORDON films) as a cynical, grandstanding attorney. AN American TRAGEDY still packs a punch today and has a rawness and power and biting commentary on the class structure of society entirely lacking in A PLACE IN THE SUN, the 1951 film adaptation of the same novel.

A classic American novel (by Theodore Dreiser) that was twice brought to the screen by master film-makers but, while both were reasonably well-received (the second – George Stevens' A PLACE IN THE SUN {1951} – being even allotted 'masterpiece' status in some quarters), they were also criticized for failing to bring out the essence of their source material! For the record, I had watched the latter version ages ago but will be following this one with it – so, a direct comparison will certainly prove interesting; incidentally, I own two copies of the rare 1931 film and, while I obviously watched the one with superior image quality (acquired only hours prior to the viewing!), I still had to contend with a muffled soundtrack that occasionally rendered the dialogue unintelligible.

Anyway, Sternberg was deemed the wrong director for this subject matter and, to be honest, the plot does feel somewhat dreary here – though the climactic trial undeniably compels attention (with the film's "Pre-Code" vintage being identified via a discussion of the soon-to-be taboo subject of abortion!). Incidentally, I have just stumbled upon the script which the great Soviet film-maker Sergei M. Eisenstein supplied, since he had previously been entrusted with the project for his American debut – which would subsequently never come to pass! Again, it would be fascinating to evaluate the two versions side-by-side but I do not have the time to go through the latter right now; if anything, I would love to check out Sternberg's celebrated autobiography "Fun In A Chinese Laundry" (which I also recently got hold of) to go along with my current retrospective of his work!

As was Sternberg's fashion, the visual aspect of the film rather eclipses narrative concerns. Though the contemporary setting here precludes his usual emphasis on ornate sets and expressive lighting, he still employed one of Hollywood's most renowned cameramen in Lee Garmes (especially noteworthy are the ripple effect throughout the opening credits and his trademark use of sustained dissolves during scene transitions). On his part, the latter managed to externalize the protagonist's conflicted feelings by way of the various milieux in which he moved: mission, factory, hotels, high-society circles, country-side, courtroom and, finally, prison.

This was just as well because stiff leading man Phillips Holmes (who looks an awful lot like Andy Warhol "superstar" Joe Dallesandro!) seems overwhelmed by the complexities of the role, which rather compromises audience identification with his plight! Incidentally, the script's attempt to pass this off as a problem picture was bizarre, to say the least – that said, the whole moralistic angle (which I do not think is present in the 1951 adaptation) led to a predictably serene conclusion, in which the anti-hero accepts the meting out of justice as his only possible fate. Even so, Dreiser was dissatisfied with how the film turned out (apparently ignoring the potent sociological element, he objected to the script's focus on the murder investigation) and took Paramount to court!; though his arguments were ultimately overruled, the studio still ordered considerable re-shoots…and, ironically, it was now Sternberg's turn to express dismay and he even went so far as to disown the released version!

One of the two women with whom the protagonist is involved is played by Sylvia Sidney (this was made the same year her brief major period – including films for Mamoulian, Vidor, Lang, Hitchcock and Wyler – kicked off): she is excellent, with some even suggesting the actress deserved an Oscar for it!; her death scene is very similar to the botched murder attempt, also occurring during a would-be innocent boat ride, in another classic by an equally gifted film-maker i.e. F.W. Murnau's SUNRISE: A SONG OF TWO HUMANS (1927). The other girl is Frances Dee – whose essentially small part, however, is obviously much reduced in comparison to that of Elizabeth Taylor's in the (lengthier) remake but also to Sidney's here; she is excluded, for plot purposes, from the latter stages of the film – but it must be said that the overall compactness of sequences vis-a'-vis the remake was not an artistic choice but merely the prevalent style of the era! Also on hand to fill in the roles of the two formidable lawyers in the case (incorporating an unprecedented re-enactment of the accident, complete with boat and passengers!) are District Attorney Irving Pichel and Defense Counsel Charles Middleton.

It's interesting to compare this precode era adaptation to the glossier seemingly bigger-budget production, 1951's "A Place in the Sun". People today will likely not remember the stars since so much of their work was done at 1930's Paramount and is never shown anymore. Practically all of the action is centered on working class girl Roberta (Sylvia Sidney) and Clyde Griffiths (Phillips Holmes), who wants what he wants when he wants it. Frances Dee as the rich girl Clyde falls for later in the film barely gets any lines at all as compared to Elizabeth Taylor in the corresponding part in the 1951 film. In fact the whole tale is spartanly told.

Clyde's past is filled in more in this film, along with more about his mother and the fact that she realizes she failed Clyde by concentrating so much on her mission work and thus exposing Clyde to all of the darkness in life with none of the normal attention and happinesses that most children experience, thus making Clyde selfish and hungry for the good things in life.

Clyde gets a break when he runs into the wealthy side of the family, gets a job in their factory, and ultimately works his way up to supervisor. But the family is more oblige toward him than noblesse, as they invite him up to visit them at their house - more for the sake of appearances than anything - and study him like a specimen rather than treat him like a guest. Through all of this, Clyde is stoic and unsurprised at their behavior. You get the feeling he'd do the same if he was in their place.

Clyde selfishly but not maliciously pushes Roberta, one of the assembly line girls in his charge, into a relationship and ultimately into sharing a bed, and apparently this intimate relationship goes on some time until he meets a bigger better deal in the person of Sondra Finchley. Don't expect the sizzle and warmth of Montgomery Clift and Elizabeth Taylor here. Here Frances Dee and Philips Holme barely smolder, but that is probably intentional just to feed the impression that this guy truly can't love anybody.

Here Roberta is an unlucky girl that you grow to like as you even meet her family at one point. In Place in the Sun Shelley Winter's rendition is that of a clawing nagging harpy, causing you to somewhat sympathize with Clyde. Here there can really be no sympathy for the guy - he really is a coward, always trying to get what he can out of life here and now, running from the consequences, lying to himself as well as everyone else.

When the pregnant Roberta refuses to just disappear and insists on marriage, Clyde tears himself away from his summer vacation with his new socialite girlfriend long enough to plan a murder that will look like an accidental drowning. Does he want the good things in life enough to do even the foulest of deeds? Watch and find out. And you will find out, because what happens in the boat is clearly shown from beginning to end.

One very interesting moment in this film not included in the remake: You see the jury deliberate and two jurors are tending toward voting not guilty. The other ten threaten the two holdouts, basically saying that they will find it impossible to make a living in that town if they "side with that murderer". In the production code era you would never be allowed to question the integrity of the criminal justice system in such a manner.

This film is an interesting commentary on class consciousness centered on a wrong guy ultimately brought to accidental justice by an equally wrong criminal justice system. Highly recommended.

Like all the studios Paramount did not believe in idle hands. In between Marlene Dietrich projects, Josef Von Sternberg got assigned to do this adaption of Theodore Dreiser's novel An American Tragedy. Of course Paramount's second adaption of this story A Place In The Sun is far better known.

Paramount was never known as a studio which did films with a message of social significance. Interesting to speculate what the results would have been had this been done at Warner Brothers. Von Sternberg did do a good piece of film making. But the story died at the box office. I suppose the story of a man trying to marry upward to secure a better place in society and the tragedy resulting just wasn't of interest to Depression audiences.

Whether it was or it wasn't Paramount sold the next one with sex, the love story of Montgomery Clift and Elizabeth Taylor heating up the screen. That went over big in 1951.

In this story Phillips Holmes is the ne'er do well relative of factory owner Samuel Griffiths who gives him a job in his factory, but keeps him at a distance socially. More than anything else Holmes wants acceptance from the upper crust.

At the factory he drifts into an affair with fellow worker Sylvia Sidney, but when he sees rich Frances Dee she's the ticket to all he's ever wanted. But Sylvia's now pregnant, what's a guy to do?

Dreiser's thoughts about class and class distinction are carefully preserved here. Yet in the most class conscious era in American history this didn't go over with the public. I guess even in those times you need a little sex to get people to the box office.

All the leads performed well and I also would commend Irving Pichel as the prosecuting attorney. This part was also a milestone for Raymond Burr who did it in A Place In The Sun.

An American Tragedy holds up well for today's audience which is also thinking about class distinctions and upward mobility today.

Originally this adapation of the Dreiser novel was planned by Sergei Eisenstein, during the Hollywood jaunt that also led to Que Viva Mexico, and his version might have been a cracked masterpiece-- one can imagine him getting all kind of details about the American scene ludicrously wrong, but finding a real connection between Dreiser's depiction of a weak youth whose desire for wealth and comfort sends him on an assembly line to murder, and Eisenstein's own mechanistic editing style and view of capitalism's destructiveness.

Von Sternberg, on the other hand, was the master of knowing sexual politics and intrigue, at his best with characters whose illusions had been left behind many beds ago. Given a Classics Illustrated-level cutdown of the book, and a stiff (if straight out of an Arrow shirt ad) leading man in Phillips Holmes, there's little for him to get hold of here, except for a few scenes in which Sylvia Sidney manages to convey the poignance of a poor girl in a bad spot, losing her boy and helpless to prevent it. There are some reasonably effective scenes between Holmes and Sidney, some nice chiaroscuro from Lee Garmes (though alas, even UCLA's restoration does not look as good as the clips I saw at Cinesation in the 1932 Paramount promo film The House That Shadows Built), and the courtroom scenes, though way over the top (not helped by Irving Pichel's too-perfect E- Nun-Cee-I-A-Shun), are dramatic-- it's fun seeing him defended by Charles "Ming the Merciless" Middleton, in that inimitable voice. But you can't really say it works, or does Dreiser justice-- and I'm not sure any movie could.

The problem with Dreiser's passive characters is that on screen their plights may be involving, but they aren't; we don't get the interior life that the novel gives us, we just see the story of an ineffectual sap making a couple of bad mistakes and getting ground to dust by the wheels of modern society. James Cain's crime novels took the Dreiser- style story and put guilt and cunning back into the main characters' makeup, so they have things to do on screen-- and they know WHY they're doomed. Seeing Sternberg fail to find anything interesting enough to work with here makes you wish Eisenstein had made this film, and Sternberg had had the chance to sink his teeth into The Postman Always Rings Twice or Serenade.