Three on a Match

THREE ON A MATCH (First National Pictures, 1932), directed by Mervyn LeRoy, is a realistic account into the lives of three former classmates who meet again as adults, and how one of the three goes through her path of self destruction.

The story begins in 1919 where the song, "Smiles" is on top of the charts. Jack Dempsey wins his championship title by knocking out Jess Willard, and the advent of the Prohibition era. Three girls, Mary (Virginia Davis), Vivian (Dawn O'Day) and Ruth (Betty Carrs) are students at Public School 62. Mary is a wild girl who cuts class to smoke "cigarettes"; Ruth is a studious girl with the highest grades in her class; and Vivian is a snob voted the most popular girl in her class. Next segment: 1921, Warren G. Harding is elected as president of the United States with his campaign slogan, "the era of good feeling." The girls graduate and go on their separate ways, with the troublesome Mary, who will face her future serving time in reform school. 1925 starts with the underscoring of "The Prison Song," the debut of True Facts Magazine, and of how the youth of today has gone wild. The former classmates, now adults, are focused to what they are currently doing: Mary (Joan Blondell), serving time for grand larceny in a reform school; Vivian (Ann Dvorak), attending an exclusive school, and reading bedtime stories to youngsters; and Ruth (Bette Davis), in secretarial school. Next segment, 1930, with "Dancing With Tears in My Eyes" heading the musical charts. Mary Keaton, a struggling actress using Mary Bernard as her stage name, is reunited with Vivian, now married to a successful attorney, Robert Kirkwood (Warren William), and mother to a little boy, Junior (Buster Phelps). Although Vivian has everything to live for, she's unhappy, in fact, just plain bored. As for Ruth, she's a secretary with ambition. Upon their reunion in a restaurant, they talk over old times, light up their cigarettes from a single match and laugh off the superstition, "Three on a Match," where the third member to use the match is to become the unlucky one. Later, while on an ocean cruise alone with Junior, Vivian meets Mike Loftus (Lyle Talbot), a compulsive gambler whom she's immediately attracted. After going with this loser, she finds her new existence and illicit affair exciting, until realizing that too much partying, liquor and cigarettes is ruining her life as well as Junior's. Following a brief segment of 1931, the chapter concludes in 1932, showing what happens to the "three on a match."

Whenever THREE ON A MATCH is shown on television (presently on Turner Classic Movies) it plays as a Bette Davis movie, even though she's the one with limited screen time, least dialog and smoking scenes. Joan Blondell, the leading member of the trio, is good in her role, but it's Ann Dvorak giving a standout performance, in what's considered by many to be her best screen role. Of the trio, it's Bette Davis who worked herself to becoming the "Queen of Warner Brothers" before the end of the decade. As for Blondell, she's as memorable as Dvorak is underrated. Warren William, then groomed to stardom, is also given little screen opportunity in this production. This was to be his first of five films opposite Joan Blondell, and their combination together works quite well on screen. Betty Carrs, the child actress appearing as Ruth in the early portion of the story, has a striking resemblance to Bette Davis, giving the basic idea as to how Bette Davis herself looked during her childhood years; Dawn O'Day would later become known as Anne Shirley, leading adolescent actress for RKO Radio in the 1930s and early 1940s.; and Virginia Davis, the least known of the three, once known as the the live action character of Alice in cartoon shorts for Walt Disney in the 1920s.

With limited actors listed in the opening credits, there are many familiar faces from the Warners stock company to go around: Glenda Farrell (The reform school inmate); Grant Mitchell (The school principal); Clara Blandick (Mary's mother); Frankie Darro (Bobby); Hardie Albright (Philip Randall, Kirkwood's lawyer assistant); and Sidney Miller (Willie Goldberg). Allen Jenkins, Humphrey Bogart (in gangster debut) and Jack LaRue play the meanest looking thugs in screen history, with Edward Arnold as "Ace," their leader, who's introduced late in the story in front of the mirror pulling hairs from his nose with the tweezers.

Like most Warner Brothers Depression-era dramas of the 1930s, THREE ON A MATCH plays on the grim side. No nonsense, no glamor, heavy on melodrama and a touch of "film noir." Even Blondell and Dvorak play their own down-on-their luck characters in separate scenes without the use of makeup. It's quite grim, especially with a "too-close- for- comfort" scene involving child abduction. All in all, as depressing as it can be, it's quite watchable, particularly since it's a very short 63 minute production that plays like a novel with very short chapters. There's great moments of nostalgia, especially with it's newsreel-type opening of events that occurred during any given specific era of time giving this an added plus.

THREE ON A MATCH is also available on video cassette as part of the "FORBIDDEN Hollywood" series, hosted by respected film critic, Leonard Maltin. Over the years, THREE ON A MATCH has developed into a minor classic from the 1930s. It was remade by Warner Brothers in 1938 as Broadway MUSKETEERS with Ann Sheridan, Margaret Lindsay and Marie Wilson in the Blondell, Dvorak and Davis roles, with a little girl, Janet Chapman, filling in the role as the doomed girl's child. The original ranks the best and stronger of the two. They can both be seen and compared on Turner Classic Movies. (*** matches)

Three on a Match (1932)

A tightly interwoven plot about three "types" of women, from their school days into adulthood, played out with snap and sizzle. This is one fast, loaded movie, playing loose with morals and fast with stereotypes, and playing against them at times. There is little more painful than a man or woman falling to ruins, and it's made so reasonable, so nearly exciting, and so really reprehensible it's a surprise and a cinematic thrill.

Yes, a terrific movie, and not just for 1932. The interplay between the lead women (including a tart young Bette Davis) is great, and as the plot moves into a full blooded crime film (with Warner Brothers knew how to make better than any of them), it really screams. Throw in Humphrey Bogart (a decade before Casablanca) and you have something you have to watch.

But these are the obvious reasons, the film buff draws. Watch lead actresses Joan Blondell and Ann Dvorak for their sheer ability, and their likability. And for how they can be themselves before the code kicked in in two years. Mervin Leroy is a great director, of course (the same year he did the incomparable I am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang) and seeing his range and control is a treat. Don't miss it. Just an hour long, too.

Another neglected eye-opener from the pre-Code era. No doubt, this cynical essay on wanton motherhood helped bring down the wrath of the censors two years hence. Ann Dvorak is a bored upper-class matron who flees to Europe with toddler son in tow, seeking excitement and a sexual adventure she can't admit to herself. She finds them in the person of shady character Lyle Talbott, with whom she shacks-up neglecting her boy in the process. Dvorak shines in those scenes that graphically chart her growing degradation, which I take from her appearance to include heavy drug use. The ending is frankly pretty predictable, Code or no Code.

The movie is no unmixed triumph. The Blondell--William relationship seems highly improbable, while Bette Davis's contrived role as the third girl on the match remains largely a waste. In fact, the movie's second half comes nowhere near the vitality or subtlety of the first half-- note the nuances of that early bedroom scene where we become privy to Dvorak's failing marriage. It's a little gem. The second half, on the other hand, is not helped by the caricatured gangsters, especially in their final scene which unlike the rest of the movie is also poorly directed. Nonetheless, the 60 minutes comes as a revelation to those of us accustomed to the conventions of a 30-year Code period.

Thanks be to TCM for rescuing these sleepers. I doubt they were shown anytime during the censorship era, and by the time they could be shown, they were too dated and obscure. But now film buffs have a chance to discover a Hollywood era most of us didn't know existed. Three on a Match may not be the most compelling product of that time, but it does prove one thing-- despite the opinion of some, sex was not an invention of the 1960's.

After viewing the video version of this movie again last night, I was surprised at how most of the movie stands up today. As with many "from the headlines" movies produced by Warner Brothers and First National in the early 1930s, the pace is rapid. I prefer the latter part of the movie to the earlier scenes, which provide a lengthy prologue to the main story. It is unfortunate that the lead actress, Ann Dvorak, is almost forgotten today, for she was a beautiful and talented actress, who more often than not was more capable than the material she was given. Hers is an unusual character, but an interesting and not too hysterical performance. It's also fun to watch future stars like Bette Davis and Humphrey Bogart in supporting roles, as well as to savour supporting performances by Jack LaRue, Allen Jenkins and Lyle Talbot. The climax is quite remarkable, although the tacked on happy ending jars with the mood of the movie as a whole. Well worth watching on the late show, cable, or if you find a copy of the video.

Warner Bros had a reputation for pumping them out in the early 30's like chocolate covered Goobers at a Saturday Matinee. The story was typical Warner Bros from that time period.

Anne Dvorak, married to a successful lawyer and mother of a cute little 6 year old boy, becomes restless and looking for excitement, takes the boy and runs off with a small time hood. She eventually turns into a drunk (and worse). Her best friends (played by Joan Blondell and Bette Davis) give up on her and turn the boy over to his father. She continues to sink deeper and deeper into the filth as her husband divorces her and marries her best friend Joan. Meanwhile, her boyfriend, in a desperate attempt to pay off a gambling debt, kidnaps and holds the boy for ransom. The end is melodramatic and no real surprise, but it is exciting.

This film is interesting for a couple of reasons. It represents the kind of film that Warners did best in those years. Action, pathos, and the underworld. It is also interesting because of the casting. Although Humphrey Bogart plays a thug, he wasn't Mr Big in this one. He was just a run of the mill thug. Ann Dvorak seems to have switched characters with Bette Davis or Joan Blondell. She becomes more and more corrupt as the picture wears on until you are convinced she is beyond redemption. Bette and Joan, on the other hand, become more and more saintly until they are practically beatified by pictures end. I should mention the stock support players as well. Add Lyle Talbot (as the dispicable boyfriend), Edward Arnold (as Mr Big), Jack La Rue and Allen Jenkins (as the reliable hoods), and you have a Warner Bros winner.

Finally, there is the pre-code shenanigans. For a change, Joan Blondell doesn't sit on the edge of the bed, in her slip, rolling on a pair of stockings. Bette Davis does. By the way, this is the only picture I have ever seen where Bette Davis shamelessly displays her legs. And a fine set of legs at that. Look for the scene I just described as well as a scene at the beach. In another scene that would never have made it past the Hayes Office, Ann Dvorak comes out of the bedroom rubbing her nose when she realizes her son was kidnapped. Humphrey Bogart glances knowingly at the boys, rubs his nose, and sarcastically winks. A DOPE FIEND! There is a scene where she is passed out on the double bed. There is booze, cigarettes and ashtray on the bed, and a couple of cigars on the nightstand. In another scene she is splayed out on the couch with a drink in her hand, booze bottles all over the apartment when her little boy walks into the room. His face and clothes are filthy and he says he is hungry. She glances over at him, points to a tray of half eaten o'rdoevres, and says "eat that".

These little tidbits don't necessarily make it a great movie, but the cast and the story do.