Baby Face

The National Gallery of Art showed the long-thought lost original uncut version of this film on July 10, 2005. It restores vital scenes cut by censors upon its release. The character of the cobbler, a moral goody-goody individual in the original censored release of 1933 is here presented as a follower of the philosopher Nietsze and urges her to use men to claw her way to the top. Also, the corny ending of the original which I assume is in current VHS versions is eliminated and the ending is restored to its original form. A wonderful film of seduction and power. Hopefully, there will a reissue of this film on DVD for all to appreciate its great qualities. Look for it.

"Baby Face" is a precode melodrama starring a very young Barbara Stanwyck, an almost unrecognizable George Brent, and Theresa Harris. It's about a girl who goes to the city to make good...or should I say make time. Stanwyck's father has been pimping her for one reason or another her whole life in dingy, depressed, filthy Erie, Pennsylvania.

After her father dies, one older father type who knows what she's been through and truly cares about her future advises her to go to the big city and take advantage of opportunities there - and not the easy ones - and to take the high road in life. (Note that I saw the censored version and not the uncut - this part of the film was redone for the censors.)

She and Chico (Harris) go to New York where Lily (nickname: Baby Face) decides the low road's a lot smoother and will get her where she wants to go a lot faster. In the movie's most famous scene, the camera moves us up the corporate ladder by taking us from floor to floor as Lily sleeps her way to the top. She finally corrals the big man himself and is able to quit her day job. Trouble follows, and she's soon involved in a huge scandal.

Stanwyck wears lots of makeup and for most of the film is cool as a cucumber as she seduces one man after another with no regrets, and she's great at playing the innocent victim. In one scene, she sits staring at a king's ransom in jewels while wearing a black dress that looks like it's decorated with diamonds at the top. Then she asks Chico for another case, and that's filled with more jewelry, plus securities. All in a day's work.

Theresa Harris was an interesting talent - she could be played down or glamorous, and was a talented singer and dancer as well. Here, she sings or hums the movie's theme, "St. Louis Woman" throughout. She worked in literally dozens of movies and is very good here as a friend of Stanwyck's, her best work being in the precode era. As a bizarre byproduct of the code, blacks were often given less to do in films after it was put in place.

Precode films could be more sexually blatant and therefore, though they're 70+ years old, seem more modern. Even though these films didn't have to have moral endings, Baby Face learns her lessons - how like life it is after all. There were several endings of this film, all with the same message. The one I saw had an added scene, but apparently, there were two other endings that didn't pass the censors. (There wasn't a code but there were always censors.) At any rate, it's a neat surprise. "Baby Face" is an important film in movie history - a must see.

BABY FACE (Warner Brothers, 1933), directed by Alfred E. Green, stars the young and forceful Barbara Stanwyck in a "pre-code" drama that has gathered a "bad" reputation in its initial release, only to become a cult favorite decades later, thanks to frequent revivals on the Turner Classic Movies cable channel. A hot item it its day, the initial 45 minutes of BABY FACE is hard-hitting and fast-pace, with intentional or unintentional funny lines combined. Only after the arrival of co-star George Brent does the story begin to lose steam. Only when it begins to recover some strength during its concluding minutes, the film fails to recapture whatever essence it had during the initial three quarters of an hour.

The focal point is on Lily Powers (Barbara Stanwyck), the sassy daughter of Nick (Robert Barrat), an abusive father of the slums of Pittsburgh who has her working as a barmaid in his speakeasy entertaining low-life factory working friends. After Nick is killed in an explosion, by which Lily watches, showing no remorse or emotion whatsoever, decides on leaving her hometown, accompanied by her friend, Chico (Theresa Haris) on a freight train for New York City. Upon her arrival, Lily uses whatever life has taught her to get ahead, rising up the corporate latter of a banking firm, by showing her feminine wiles to full advantage. Becoming responsible for the breakup between banker, Ned Stevens (Donald Cook) and his fiancée, Ann Carter (Margaret Lindsay), followed by a murder/suicide, the notorious scandal finds Lily about to transferred to the Paris branch until she captures the attention of Trenholm (George Brent), the new president of the Botham Trust Company, as her latest victim.

Featured in the supporting cast are Douglass Dumbrille (Brody, another one of Lily's "love slaves"); Nat Pendleton (Stolvich, a sleazy factory worker); Maynard Holmes (a personnel office clerk); with Alphonse Ethier, Henry Kolker and Charles Coleman in smaller roles. Along with Dumbrille, Cook and Kolker as men who fall prey to a gal called Lily, the biggest surprise is finding the youthful John Wayne, years prior to his major star status, as one of Lily's rejected suitors. Wayne's role as an office clerk is brief but noteworthy as being the one and only collaboration of the "Duke" and "Stanny." James Murray, the leading actor in MGM's silent masterpiece, THE CROWD (1928), in a career setback by this time, appeared briefly as a railroad brakeman. His scene, however, was taken out prior to its release. A director's complete cut that included Murray and other edited scenes were later discovered and presented on TCM for the first time December 4, 2006.

A dress rehearsal for some of her latter tough-as-nails dramas as DOUBLE INDEMNITY (1944) and THE STRANGE LOVES OF MARTHA IVERS (Paramount, 1946), for example, Stanwyck plays Lily Powers to the hilt, a strong-willed woman with a lot of hate, especially towards men. When pitting them to their own destruction, her eyes stay motionless, detailing reactions through silence rather than with words. Regardless of movie title and popular song by Benny Davis and Harry Akst (scored during the opening credits) that could have served as a Broadway musical about a cute chorus girl, Stanwyck, hardly a "baby face" by any means, is referred to as such once by Jimmy McCoy (John Wayne) and office secretaries (one played by Toby Wing), but never referred to that name again. Aside from other songs, "I Kiss Your Hand, Madame" is underscored several times during the latter portion of the story.

A forerunner to the "trash" movies of the 1960s and 70s, what makes BABY FACE so watchable is the explicit way it uses sex and immorality out of camera range, leaving questionable situations to the imagination of the viewer. A prime example is witnessing Lily's job promotion up the corporate latter with the camera panning from the outside office window from personnel, filing, mortgage and accounting departments to the underscoring of burlesque-type music.

Could anyone else but Barbara Stanwyck handle such an assignment as depicted in BABY FACE? Joan Blondell, another resident Warner Brothers stock player, perhaps, considering how Stanwyck's blonde hairstyle bears a strong resemblance to Blondell's, especially during the more glamorized moments in the film's second half. Blondell, might have handled her task well, but the major difference is that Blondell, as good as she is, or was, wouldn't have handled the forcefulness the way Stanwyck had. Stanwyck, a brunette, was at her best playing nasty blondes, especially here and a decade later in DOUBLE INDEMNITY (1944).

Aside from BABY FACE as one of the favorites shown on TCM, it did have some exposure during the early 1990s on Turner Network Television (TNT) and distribution to home video as part of Leonard Maltin's "Forbidden Hollywood" series, and finally on DVD. For a worthwhile introductory to "pre-code" movies, either the complete or theatrical edited release of BABY FACE, along with Stanwyck's earlier NIGHT NURSE (1931), should be tops in the assembly line. (**1/2)

An original uncensored print of this amazing film was discovered in 2004 in the Library of Congress, and has been shown in a few specialized theaters around the world in 2005. According to current reviews that I've found online, the original has all of the nastiest dialog and innuendos intact; they were later either removed or completely re-shot by the studio prior to initial release, in order to pass the New York state censors. I have also read that a DVD is "expected in 2006" and one can only hope! If we're really luckily, it will include comparisons between the 2 versions. Note that the released censored version was originally available on Laserdisc, which I have seen. Stanwyck rules!

There was censorship in US cinema. The Hays code which was enforced from 1934 just added another layer and stifled American cinema.

This is starkly displayed in Baby Face which was a pre code film and it is more frank in its use of sex as a means of getting what you want.

Lily Powers (Barbara Stanwyck) has been pimped out by her father since she was 14 year of age. Her father runs an illegal drinking den in Pittsburgh. Most of the patrons want to get an eyeful and feel of Lily.

When her father is killed, an elderly friend tells Lily to take a leaf out of the writings of Friedrich Nietzsche and go for greater things even if she has to use men. Lily and her afro american friend Chico (Theresa Haris) hop on a freight train for New York.

When they arrive in the big metropolis, Lily uses her feminine charms to get a job in a bank and go up the corporate ladder by sleeping her way to the top. This leads to tragedy when one of her suitors commits a murder and then kills himself.

The film with its frankness feels like a breath of fresh air. It actually looks modern. Stanwyck is alluring, there is a small early role for John Wayne, one of Lily's amorous victims. The film is unusual with Lily being close to a black character. Watching the restored version was like viewing a lost classic.