...One Third of a Nation...

This film features the horrible realities of tenement housing which was in abundance during the early part of the 20th century. Shocking scenes of death and despair are very evident in the lives of the unfortunate people living in these "rat" holes. Sylvia Sidney is excellent as the crusader fighting against these "buildings of despair" knowing first hand because her own brother became a "victim" of living in these buildings. Leif Erickson is the "rich" landlord "by inheritance" of these "death traps" and joins the battle in tearing them down. The joining of the "poor" and "rich" in the struggle against tenement housing is what makes this film worthwhile to watch. If you are an activist against "injustice" then this is the type of film that will get your "dander" up.

Let's acknowledge right off the top that the production qualities of this movie are very outdated (even by 1939 standards) and, at least in the version I saw, the sound quality was very poor. There were extended scenes in which I could make out barely any dialogue. Even acknowledging that, though, one has to give credit where credit is due. Those failings could (and probably should) result in a disastrous movie. Instead, "One Third Of A Nation" manages somehow to rise above those problems on the strength of a very good story and solid performances all round.

The movie provides a gritty and pathetic view of life in the New York City slums of the 1930's. The movie opens with a fire in one of the rundown tenement buildings that leaves a boy crippled after having to jump out a window to escape. There's complicity all round. The tenants don't complain about the conditions because they don't think anyone will respond; the authorities (as portrayed in a riveting, if brief, portrayal of a hearing into the causes of the fire) understand the problems but are powerless to do anything and largely pass the buck around to various agencies, and the wealthy live in uncaring ignorance, brilliantly portrayed in an icy cold performance by Muriel Huthinson as Ethel Cortland, whose brother Peter (Leif Erikson) owns the tenements through inheritance. As an example of how out of touch the rich are with the poor, Peter rushes to the fire at the start of the movie, basically seeing it as a show - he doesn't even know he's the owner. There's also a superb performance by Sylvia Sidney as Mary Rogers, the sister of the crippled boy, who becomes a crusader, trying to convince Cortland to tear down the old buildings and rebuild them.

I felt this was a very courageous movie, clearly and surprisingly approaching the issue from an overtly left-wing ideological perspective (unexpected from that era, in which there were great fears of the Depression-afflicted nation turning to communism). There are some graphic scenes (including one in which a burning man leaps off a building) and the last scene of the movie is appropriately ambiguous, leaving us wondering if Mary and Peter built a relationship in spite of their social differences. After a slow start (caused by the technical problems rather than the story) that made me rather hesitant I thought this turned into a superb movie. 8/10

I wanted to like this film-- I have great regard for Sylvia Sidney and a young Leif Erickson is pretty easy on the eyes-- however, the longer I watched it the more I regretted my choice.

The fault is mostly in the writing which veers joltingly from "message" to "love story" to "horror," and none of them work. The message gets sledgehammered into our brains-- characters keep making the same observations followed by the same speeches. The love story might have been interesting, but Sidney and Erickson spend so much time smiling at one another: Her brother is horribly injured-- smile, smile, smile. His sister is threatening to ruin his plans-- more smiling. They look good smiling, but there's no substance in it-- why should they love each other? It's actually more interesting to imagine Erickson's character is more interest in Sidney's boyfriend as the movie goes along. And it's never clear who gets who.

The horror is deep in this film with the "disturbed" injured brother having morose conversations with the tenement in which he and his sister move after a horrific fire at the other one they lived in-- this gets repeated even more horrifyingly. And what's up with adding horror to message and love story? As I say, to me it just doesn't work.

This is not to say there aren't parts that work-- the secondary characters-- who do much less smiling-- are for the most part well drawn and add well to the film. And, except for the endless smiling, the direction is good and the movie well constructed. But it is no where near enough.

Watch if you must-- but I warned you about the smiling.

Using FDR's famous line about seeing one third of a nation ill housed, ill clad and ill fed, One Third Of A Nation deals with the first part of that statement. The film deals with slum tenements in New York City and was shot at Paramount's Astoria Studios using some players who were better known for their stage work mostly at the time the film was made.

For star Sylvia Sidney it was a return to the slums where she played one of her most famous parts in the film version of Sidney Kingsley's Dead End. She lives with mother Edmonia Nolley, father Charles Dingle, and little brother Sidney Lumet. Yes, that is the same Sidney Lumet who grew up and became a top rated director.

After a fire which leaves young Lumet a cripple the owner of the building, in fact the owner of a lot of tenement buildings Leif Erickson develops a social conscience and is determined to tear these slum tenements down and build some decent new housing. He's fought every turn of the way by his sister Muriel Hutchinson and their business manager Percy Waram. But Sylvia's encouragement and an awful tragedy they endure it all works out.

Myron McCormick who at this time concentrated on the stage has a role as the neighborhood radical and rival for Sidney. It was interesting to see Charles Dingle, somewhat unshaven and in a dirty undershirt as a tenement dweller. Normally he'd be cast as the hard hearted plutocrat owner.

One Third Of A Nation is sincere, but a bit too melodramatic. For one thing I can't believe that Erickson is both tied down by his sister and also just didn't go out and become an engineer as he said he would like to have become. His character made little sense to me.

Still Sylvia Sidney's fans will enjoy her performance in her return to the New York slums.

ONE THIRD OF A NATION is an odd film to come out of Hollywood in 1939. For one thing, although it was produced by Paramount Pictures, it plays more like an independent production and was shot at a studio in New York and features ample location footage. It includes some pre-code touches, even though the Production Code had been instituted five years earlier, and offers some blatant politicizing as well, not surprising given its origins as a play produced under the auspices of the Federal Theatre Project. I've often wondered why such an interesting-sounding film had so little a critical reputation, but now, after seeing it, I understand why.

The plot, such as it is, involves the unlikely budding relationship between a tenement girl on the Lower East Side, Mary Rogers (Sylvia Sidney), and a rich boy who turns out to be a slumlord, Peter Cortlant (Leif Erickson, "courtesy of the Group Theatre," as the opening credits so helpfully inform us). A fire in the building leaves Joey, Mary's younger brother, seriously injured, and Peter's presence on the scene allows him to take the boy to a private hospital and pay for his care, much to Mary's dismay once she discovers that he owns the rat trap she lives in. In a serious continuity lapse, Peter's inspection of the building some days after the fire reveals absolutely no fire damage.

Everyone has a tendency to make speeches and this continues throughout the film, whether at a hearing into the fire at the District Attorney's office or in a casual conversation between a tenement couple or in Mary's and Peter's scenes together. The original play seems to have been written with the aim of effecting slum clearance and putting up safe new housing. Everybody seems to want the slums torn down, but no one seems to give any thought to where to house the people who'll be displaced while waiting for the new housing to go up. Mary has a de facto boyfriend named Sam, played by Myron McCormick, who's described as a "leftist" and makes cracks about capitalism throughout the film. Yet no one bothers to try to organize the tenants and push through legislative action to solve the problem. The solution, as presented by the film, seems to be to get the rich to have a change of heart, something easily achieved when you have a tenement girl as pretty and poised as Sylvia Sidney and a rich landlord as young and handsome and good-hearted as Leif Erickson.

There are occasional bursts of realism, including the depiction of squalor inside the tenement building and the remarkable scenes of the kids at play in the streets, not to mention the occasional shots of actual spots on New York's Lower East Side. Also, in a surprising violation of the Production Code, one neighbor, Myrtle, played by Iris Adrian, is quite clearly shown as a prostitute conducting business out of her own apartment. Also, during the fire scenes there are shocking moments of people falling from the building, including one where Joey falls several stories off a broken fire escape ladder and, later, during a second climactic fire, when a burning body is seen flying from the building, graphic bits that would surely have been removed had the film been shot on a Hollywood soundstage.

Interestingly, the young actor who plays Joey, Mary's brother, is none other than Sidney Lumet, who was all of 14 at the time. Lumet, of course, would direct his first Hollywood film 18 years later (TWELVE ANGRY MEN) and continue directing for at least the next 50 years. Also in the film is Lumet's actor father, Baruch Lumet, who appears as a distraught tenement occupant whose wife and children died in the fire. Both Lumets, I'm sorry to report, are guilty of overacting. One can't blame young Sidney, though, saddled as he is by scenes of the building "talking" to him at night and taunting him, including a jaw-dropping bit where the building "shows" little Joey a flashback to a 19th century cholera epidemic in the building.

The film was rather stiffly directed by Dudley Murphy, who also directed THE EMPEROR JONES (1933), with Paul Robeson, and ST. LOUIS BLUES (1929), with Bessie Smith. There's a theatrical bent to most of the performances that contrasts badly with the more naturalistic acting found two years earlier in a similarly-themed play-to-film adaptation, DEAD END (1937), which was much more interesting dramatically and much more cinematically directed (by William Wyler), and which also starred Sylvia Sidney.