Smarty

At one point in this movie, Joan Blondell's character confides to a friend thoughts about her husband striking her, "That's just it. If he really loved me, he'd a hit me long ago." Very much a product of its time, this pre-Hays code tale reflects a morality that seems cruel and sexist now. But the main character revels in her time; cracking double entendres and frank admissions of how she likes to be physically abused yet control the men who love her.

Joan Blondell, infamous for her proclivity for shedding her clothes at parties, seems right at home in this role. Her risqué comments and coy delivery fit neatly within the framework of her character.

You could not make this movie today. Even the thought of a woman inviting physical abuse upon herself is taboo. But not in "Smarty". This brisk, if somewhat slight, film bathes in its taboo-breaking with a kind of so what bravado. The characters are friendly, even affectionate, with each other despite the blows, both physical and emotional. The breezy repartee ignores the reality of the situations, instead playing light thanks to a humorous script and crisp performances.

Yes, "Smarty" is a look back at a time before PC was de riguer and people like Will H. Hays, for better or worse, ruled cinema. If you can get past the glossing over of physical violence, you may just be lured into the lead character's web. Joan Blondell brings it. Watching her performance in this movie, I don't know why she wasn't a bigger star.

Smarty has Warren William and Joan Blondell as a husband and wife. Joan is a vivacious tease and a flirt and William has limits on his patience. One night when she proves too much William belts her on the chin and Blondell files for divorce.

Johnny on the spot lawyer and neighbor Edward Everett Horton offers to be Blondell's divorce attorney and he marries her. But we're talking life with Horton and his fuss budget personality.

I think you can figure this one out. It's most dated because in this day and age no one slaps a woman without condemnation.

Still F. Hugh Herbert's script has quite a few laughs in it and Warner Brothers regulars Claire Dodd and Frank McHugh get their share also as neighbors and card playing regulars.

Funny at times, but most dated.

Interesting if bizarre dark comedy. This has been well reviewed by others. Two comments. The first is Warren Williams vacillating character, one minute dismissive of his ex-wife, then next expressing his undying love. This is not his most forceful or consistent role. The next is Joan Blondell and her motivation. She divorces her husband one minute and marries another shortly thereafter. Was she trying to make her husband more romantic, or was she living out her masochistic fantasies?

The dimpled Claire Dodd does a good job as the divorced friend of the couple. It was also nice to note Edward Everett Horton toning down his usual effete, fuss-budget persona.

An early and not very effective entry in that 1930's movie specialty-- the screwball comedy. Some necessary elements are present— ritzy wardrobes, sophisticated dialog, colorful characters. Then too, the plot's appropriate-- a farcical marriage-go-round where no one much cares who's married to whom.

At the same time, catch the sexy Vicky (Blondell) as she endlessly rolls and unrolls her hosiery, that is, when not fitting into backless evening wear or craving a little rough man-handling. In short, it's the kind of provocative material that soon brought down the heavy hand of Hollywood censorship. (Scope out the very last scene that I expect challenged even the loose conventions of the time.)

The women are well cast, including the eye-rolling Blondell, a dryly sensible Claire Dodd, and a sweetly seductive Joan Wheeler. The problem is with the two male leads. Now, I'm a big fan of Warren William who's unequalled in ruthless, authoritative parts, e.g. Employee's Entrance (1933), Skyscraper Souls (1932), which remain true period classics. The trouble is that the role here of the discombobulated husband Tony calls for the light comedy skills of a William Powell, for example; the aristocratic William does try hard, but lacks that particular flair. Also, the naturally comedic Horton is memorable in eccentric parts, but is unfortunately miscast here as a strait-laced, jealous husband.

At the same time, director Florey doesn't manage the kind of zany pacing that could have smoothed over some of the questionable parts. Too much of his deliberate tempo comes across like the stage play the material is adapted from. As a result, the movie has its moments—mainly the super coy Blondell and a provocative parade of 30's fashions—but is otherwise a titillating disappointment.

... that being that a husband slapping his wife is actually a turn on for her. Tony Wallace (Warren William) slaps his wife Vicki (Joan Blondell) during a small gathering at their apartment for saying the phrase "diced carrots", which is some kind of marital in joke. Kind of like "Niagara falls" in the old Three Stooges routine. The phrase makes Tony go crazy. Attorney Vernon Thorpe (Edward Everett Horton), who has always loved Vicki, is present at the time and tells her that he can get her a divorce on the grounds of extreme cruelty.

He does, and fast forward and Vicki has married Vernon. But the grass is not greener. Vicki finds herself bored with Vernon's kind and giving ways and decides she wants her first husband back. Complications ensue.

It really pains me to give a movie with the best WB had to offer in comedy in front of the camera in 1934 only a mediocre grade. But the characters are cardboard and the very thin humor wore on me after a very short while. And Blondell is playing one of the most annoying nagging characters in the history of film, although she is playing it tongue in cheek. How I felt about this film was very similar to how I felt about the very first production code comedies because they often substituted shouting and motion for that great precode bite and energy.