The Woman in Red

Barbara Stanwyck married Gene Raymond. There's money and connection in both their backgrounds, but none in their pockets. She rides other people's show horses for a living, and he's a professional guest and polo player. They go into business boarding horses, which raises the hackles of the tony set, especially widowed Genevieve Tobin. The only exception is Miss Stanwyck's old friend John Eldredge, who is extravagantly considerate, and who winds up on trial for murder.

Director Robert Florey and company certainly spare no effort in making their audience despise the rich in this one, with a gobsmacked Arthur Treacher drawling his astonishment at the idea of people actually working for a living. Within those parameters, everyone gives a good performance, although I remain as always puzzled by Gene Raymond's participation; in far too many movies in the 1930s his role consisted of being blond and not tripping over the furniture. He accomplishes both here.

The result is a well done minor movie from the year, although given these rich people, why anyone should care if one of them gets shot is beyond me.

In this drama/romance from Warner Brothers and director Robert Florey. Shelby Barret (Barbara Stanwyck) works for wealthy horse owner, widow Nicko Nicholas (Genevieve Tobin). Shelby does the riding in competitions, Nicko collects the trophies. A trophy Nicko is trying to collect all by herself is horseman Johnny Wyatt (Gene Raymond) as a husband. Johnny comes from old money that got so old it dried up and blew away. The Wyatts are tradition and name rich, cash poor.

So, Johnny upsets both his and Shelby's cash flow when he falls in love with her and proposes marriage. Shelby tries to be the voice of reason, but Johnny breaks her resolve, and they marry. Nicko takes this like the bad sport you'd expect her to be. And lots of complications ensue from a working middle class girl married to a poor man of the aristocracy.

If this film had been made two years before it could have been a terrific precode, because it is trying to be scandalous and also show the rich up to be despicable, and in 1935 in the production code era that is pretty much impossible, so it ends up pulling all of its punches. It is, however, a good example of Stanwyck rising above mediocre material.

Shelby Barret (Barbara Stanwyck) is an equestrian working for wealthy widow Mrs. Nicholas (Genevieve Tobin). She calls her Nicko. Nicko introduces her friend Johnny Wyatt (Gene Raymond) to Shelby. He comes from an uppercrust family which has fallen on hard times. Rich playboy Gene Fairchild (John Eldredge) sets his sights on Shelby. When Johnny and Shelby get together, a jealous Nicko fires Shelby.

A better way to do this story is to turn it into a murder mystery. As it stands, the story meanders around and the characters go in and out. The point is to get to the court case. There is some interesting class and moral construction in that part. That's the most interesting section of the movie and only comes out for the last ten minutes.

The movie seems right out of the class-conscious 30's. Stanwyck's Shelby is a very competent show-horse rider for wealthy woman Nicko (Tobin). But when Shelby marries Johnny (Raymond) a jealous Nicko fires her. Trouble is Johnny's wealthy but now destitute family continues their snobbish airs and duly snub Shelby. Good thing the wealthy Gene (Eldridge) puts aside his love for Shelby and comes to the newly weds aid in setting up a business. But then, there's a fateful yacht party and things come to a head.

Stanwyck finally gets to show some fire near the end. Otherwise her role is fairly subdued and not one of her more memorable. It doesn't help that Raymond comes across as pretty bland and not a good match for Stanwyck. In my book, the highlight comes when an angry Shelby drops pretenses and denounces the assembled snobs. I sense that anxious 30's audiences were right up there with her. Then too, Warner's was the studio of record for that gritty period. Nonetheless, the settings are almost all gilded upper crust, and a long way from Cagney's shabby urban slums.

All in all, the parts fail to gel into any real impact, despite the dramatic elements. I suspect much of that is due to pedestrian direction (Florey) and Raymond's rather insipid performance. The latter's certainly capable of much better as his commanding role in the riveting Plunder Road (1957) shows. Too bad something like that didn't happen here.

Goodness, it's said, is very hard to make interesting--or even sympathetic. Not in the case of Barbara Stanwyck. When, in this movie, a petulant woman says she doesn't like Barbara's character, a man defends her, saying she is "a square shooter." That could describe Barbara in all the parts she played--even when she was a crook, she was fair to everyone.

In this case, the fairest thing she can do to most of the rich, horsey people she finds herself among is to tell them to take a long walk off a short pier, and Barbara doesn't disappoint us. The plot of this movie is just a combination of cliches (working girl rejected by society husband's family and man who will be convicted of murder unless missing witness is found), and the leading man is Gene Raymond, the male Kewpie doll, but Barbara makes it work, with her bravura honesty and energy. Genevieve Tobin also is outstanding as a socialite of breathtaking bitchiness; midway through the film Barbara tells her off, but Genevieve just brushes her off and continues her one-woman class war. (Oddly, she doesn't get her come-uppance at the end, as films of this type have led us to expect; it may be corny, but I felt really cheated when she wasn't stripped of her social status or at least pushed into a horse pond.)

Orry-Kelly contributes, as always, great gowns--but poor Barbara! Genevieve gets the glamorous creations, but Barbara's evening clothes have to make the point that she's a good girl.