Annie del Klondike

Despite I wasn't from those golden era, in fact my background starts on the seventies, as a die hard cinephile when I'd hear about the fabulous Mae West I have to confess that l've stayed really impressed when l realize such greatness, what a woman!!! Then I began to study his career, she was the first Goddess on the thirties, bolded and sexy impregnating on collective imaginary of the men, in this movie she around 44 years, she running away from Frisco in a cargo ship of the rough Captain Bull Brackett (Victor Maclaglen), along the way she meets with a Christian Sister Annie Alden who intent to help a church at Nome, sadly she dies before, Rose (West) having wanted by the police changes places with Annie, at the ground she has to play an opposite character henceforth, well-craft plot, a perfect vehicle to Mae West, after her came up, several Goddess, nevertheless Jean Harlow and Marilyn Monroe stay closest as sexy symbols, my wife always wonder why l love all them so much, I guess she is jealous!!!

Resume:

First watch: 2011 / How many: 2 / Source: DVD / Rating: 7.25

My only reason of watching this rather trifling Mae West vehicle is that the director is Raoul Walsh. I've never been a big Mae West fan, though I thoroughly liked "She Done Him Wrong" and "I'm No Angel." I had some hopes for "Klondike Annie," but it lamentably turned out one of her dullest efforts. Mae's suggestive one-liners are surprisingly exhausting; her characterization of "the Frisco Doll" is rather fake and unremarkable. Walsh's direction is curiously flat and there's very little of his trademark exuberance to wither the contrived silliness of Mae's script (adapted from her own play "The Frisco Kate").

I saw it back to back with another Mae West movie called "Every Day's a Holiday"(1937). Though Walsh is a vastly superior director than Edward Sutherland, I much prefer that one because it's breezier, funnier, and more enjoyable.

The only good or likable things in "Klondike Annie" are Mae's romantic liaison with the rugged Victor Mclaglen as the rough, grumbling captain of the ship, and the moment when Mae impersonates the Salvation Army missionary. The rest is forgettable

This is another middling Mae West vehicle: though there's something approximating a plot in its case (involving her taking up the guise of a missionary!), this has the unfortunate effect of producing unwarranted sentimentality – consequently, the star's trademark sauciness gets downplayed – which, frankly, doesn't suit her in the least…or convince us for a second! At least, director Walsh vividly renders the turn-of-the-century atmosphere and changes of locale: we start in Chinatown, where Mae's the kept woman of an Oriental establishment owner, then spend a good deal of time aboard ship with rowdy captain Victor McLaglen – during which the real (and elderly) Sister Annie perishes from a heart attack – and, finally, settle in the titular gold-mining region – where the heroine above all turns the head of a young Mountie (actually after West for the death of her Asian master that occurs off-screen!) even if he believes her to be a pious woman.

Needless to say, West's bubbly personality and smart business sense (acquired via her former capacity of world-renowned torch singer) turns around the mission's formerly pitiful fortunes – which even come to threaten the takings at the local saloon (especially since she's recruited many of the performers there to liven up her own "joint")! I was under the impression that KLONDIKE ANNIE was something like 80 minutes long (the Leslie Halliwell Film Guide even gives the running-time as 83), so that I was surprised when it abruptly ended – by having the star forsake the young career man for experienced lout McLaglen – at a little over 73 minutes in PAL mode (with a bit of research, I was able to determine that Image's presumably long out-of-print R1 DVD actually only ran for 76 minutes).

...well, maybe Warren Williams' career perhaps, but that's another story.

Set in 1890's San Francisco, West is hamstrung by the two year old production code, and it shows, especially in the watered down dialogue and lack of double entendres. The films' highlight is about fifteen minutes into the movie as West sings "I'm an Occidental Woman in an Oriental Mood For Love". The Code censored the overtly sexual lines, but they missed enough that the first 35 minutes is pleasant. It's when West starts trying to pass as a missionary(?!) that the film becomes actively painful.

West looks like she's gagging on the mealy mouthed dialogue set in Nomes' missionary center. The film misses numerous opportunities for fun. West gets screen credit for the script, but from the sanctimonious tone of the scripts' second half, I'd say she got "help" whether it was wanted or not.

West is truly the whole show. The Code censored her words, but they couldn't censor her eye-rolling gagging air of supreme confidence, or her way of making an innocuous line an innuendo.

Not as good as I'd hoped or as bad as I'd feared, it is worth the watch, just realize the film peaks early.

The inimitable Mae West struts her stuff yet again in this breezy, passable, but lesser Paramount Studio vehicle. Based on her play ("Frisco Kate") and co-credited for the writing here, she is the whole show naturally.

The story, if you care, has Mae playing Rose ("the Frisco Doll") Carlton, an 1890s entertainer who has to take it on the lam after bringing down one of her paramours - not with sly one-liners, but with a knife in the back. She's forced to slum it on a ship headed for the Klondike. With the police breathing down her bodice, she winds up impersonating a Salvation Army missionary (Helen Jerome Eddy), who conveniently dies of a `bad heart attack' while on board. In a change of heart, the sultry Mae, now dressed down in drab, basic black, vows to fulfill the woman's mission and ventures on to reform an Alaskan town full of drunks, prosties and other sinner types with her own revamped style of Bible-thumping. Somehow you feel these unfortunates will never be ENTIRELY saved, but that's never the point anyway. Interspersed throughout are a few typical West songs, notably `I'm an Occidental Woman in an Oriental Mood for Love' decked out in full Oriental regalia, including headgear, which really has to be seen to be believed.

It's always grand entertainment to see the most virile of men falling all over themselves over La West -- reduced to simpering, whimpering fools once they zero in on our gal. This time one of filmdom's most rugged and respected character stars, Victor McLaglan, becomes her prime, buffoonish play toy. McLaglan (who had won an Oscar a year or two before) plays Bull Brackett, a brusque, salty ol' sea captain here, who barks out orders in his best Wallace Beery imitation and roughs up nearly every guy within throwing distance. But watch the big brute turn to pure mush at the first sight of Mae -- sulking, grousing, bumbling, even running into poles, for God's sake. And McLaglan's not the only one. Dashing, doe-eyed Philip Terry's Mountie, McLaglan's chief rival, risks all respect, not to mention his career, in his play for her, while obsessive-compulsive `Oriental' Harold Huber loses much more than that over his fascination with " the pearl of lotus flower.' Ah, yes, in a distinct case of reverse gender discrimination, every man is weak, inept, servile, and just plain putty around dear ol' Mae. Improbable fun...but fun.

And speaking of support roles, nobody has ever been given the chance to steal a Mae West movie, so to mention anyone else in the cast would be a waste of time. By the way, you won't see any pretty dames supporting West either. She wouldn't stand for it. So every other female -- bar girls, suffragettes, society ladies, you name it - are at least 50-70 in age here, and either much heavier than the quite zaftig West or downright ugly. Smart girl that Mae!

Suffice it to say there's never much action in a Mae West movie because the old girl (she was 44 at the time this movie was released) simply can't move in those tight, breath-taking (literally!) outfits she wears. She simply sashays from place to place, plants herself, and lets out a few double entendres. The dramatic action is usually compromised by a series of set poses - lighting a cigarette, filing her nails, primping her platinum-blonde locks, laying carefully on a settee, or shoving some pawing, lovesick puppy away from her camera light. Actually, what you're waiting for anyway are Mae's delicious quips, but, sadly, there are way too few of them in "Klondike Annie", none of those classic lines we all enjoy and remember so well. Methinks those dastardly censors cut out her best lines this time, because there's not a lot of zing in the ones she delivers here. Rumor has it William Randolph Hearst and his newspaper establishment took offense at Mae portraying any kind of religious figure and insisted on immediate congressional action. Whatever.

Raoul Walsh directed this but there is really little directing going on. The narcissistic Mae could never have been considered a director's star. And as for her acting? Well, if Mae were alive today, I'd love to ask her, "What the hell DO you see looking up at the ceiling all the time?" Whatever it is, I'm sure it's better than some of the silliness we're seeing down here.

But Mae is Mae, so what you see is what you get.