Bachelor Apartment

Another of the movies I would not think of watching but for Irene Dunne, playing anything but swank comedy here. It consists of basically two types of characters. One is ladies in lingerie or revealing gowns. (Dunne wears neither but at one point we see her in her boss's bathrobe.) The other is gentlemen who appear to prefer other gentlemen.

One of these is its director and star, Lowell Sherman. He had a solid hand as a director and is likable as a performer. But he's a little hard to buy as a ladies' man. And in one scene, he goes to a friend's apartment, demanding to see who's in the bedroom. Instead of the woman he's looking for, two men are there. They're fully clothed and maybe the audience at the time thought they were sleeping off hangovers. Maybe that's what the script meant, for all I know. But it's not the way they come across in the context of the movie.

The print I saw was fuzzy but it's chic and entertaining -- dated but also risqué.

Lowell Sherman plays wealthy businessman and playboy Wayne Carter who is juggling lots of women. He's not just NOT the marrying kind, he actively uses them and loses them. The easier they are to get the quicker he loses them as it seems the chase is 90% of the thrill for him. Then he meets a woman he cannot get - stenographer Helene Andrews (Irene Dunne). He can't tempt her with nice things, and he can't sweet talk her with his obvious come-ons. So he hires her as an executive secretary at his firm, and even that takes some talking for her to believe that this is anything but what it looks like - a long con attempt to get into her pants.

But then Carter starts to truly fall for Helene. The problem is that he, as part of his long con, has been extremely open about his love life and so any abrupt change in him would be eyed very suspiciously by Helene. The most complicating factor is an old flame of Carter's (Mae Murray) who married a rich man in his circle but who has decided that she wants to stay married to the rich guy but pick up her sex life with Carter where they left off before the marriage. And she's not averse to showing up unannounced at his penthouse, undressing, and jumping into his bed to wait for him. Complications ensue.

Subplots involve Dunne's showbiz sister (Claudia Dell) who, unlike Dunne's character, doesn't have a problem with sleeping her way to the top. Sherman had a breezy delivery of lines and a rapid-fire, almost overlapping way of doing dialog that seems very modern. You also get the feeling he ad libs constantly. The real curiosity here is Murray who was 45+ but is dressed like a woman in her 20s with an odd baby-talk way of speaking. It really is outrageous. Purnell Pratt plays Murray's husband who has murderous intent if he ever finds out who it is that his wife is seeing behind his back.

This was Irene Dunne's third feature film role, and it's not often you would see her pop up in a pre-code film, even with her usual virtuous persona.

It may be 1931, but there's no hint of an economic depression among the well-upholstered lounge lizards of Manhattan. It's pretty much a steady round of casual couplings and uncouplings among the urban sophisticates. Not much of a plot except for middle-aged Lothario (Sherman) slowly falling for nice girl Helene (Dunne). Movie's main interest is in its provocative pre-Code liberties—innuendoes fly fast, while some clinging gowns leave little to the imagination. It's a talky script with some clever lines, and if there's little action, at least director Sherman keeps things moving. The comedy is more occasional than sparkling, but does have its moments, even though Dunne surprisingly gets few laugh lines. All in all, it's a fairly entertaining antique with a good glimpse of bygone fashions.

John Howard Lawson, later one of the blacklisted Hollywood Ten, composed this screenplay which is ostensibly quite the reverse from his normal proletarian bent, but is actually deeply altered by wordsmith J. Walter Ruben to a suave and somewhat risqué (pre-Code) comedy. Fortunately, some sense of Lawson's customary concerns remains, and is dealt with nicely by Irene Dunne, co-starring with the elegant Lowell Sherman, who also directs with his usual flare in this tale of a Park Avenue man about town struggling with a raft of nubile and aggressive young creatures. An early sound film, it forms the first arrangement of what has become a basic cinema plot device, as we know it, that of the carefree unmarried man being chastened from his rollicking ways by exposure to feelings of romantic love. Cinematography by the brilliant Lee Tover is of particular value here and one should advert to the art direction of Max Ree, who garnered an Academy Award for his characteristic talent during this same year (1931) as a result of his work with CIMARRON. Although Mae Murray's flamboyance is transcendental, the acting is generally quite good, with a particularly strong and stage-accented performance from the lovely Dunne as an older sister attempting to shepherd a wayward sibling while standing her own ground against a playboy's blandishments. One of the final pieces of Sherman's tragically shortened directorial career, the film offers many admirable passages, none less so than the opening scene, with that eternal butler Charles Coleman patiently dealing with an importunate telephone and doorbell, setting the pace in a picture that never pushes too hard or tries too strenuously for its effects.

We open on an bachelor apartment. We know this, because the place is trashed and littered with glasses, champagne bottles, cigarette butts, and something that looks like cigarettes all over the place, from the night before. We also know this, because this is aptly named "Bachelor Apartment." The bachelor in question is Lowell Sherman, whose other screen credits include What Price Hollywood?, the original "A Star is Born" movie, and his silent movies where he usually played the villain with the pencil-thin mustache. Here, he tries to stop playing the game, after finding it very tiresome having to keep track of who comes and goes through his revolving door. But it seems he decided just this morning. It makes the viewer wonder if this decision is one he makes all the time. But, in the meantime, the, er, um, ladies, yes well, they don't know of his conversion to sainthood and still show up unannounced, notably Mae Murray, in an unforgettable and saucy role, who can be seen in one scene in a see-through nightgown. Really! You can see.... Her husband suspects she's cheating and it's driving him crazy, He's going to find the @#$*& or die trying. Meanwhile, through a series of events, Irene Dunne enters the picture as a stenographer who doesn't like fast workers for bosses. He dares her to take this well-paying job, which she does. Will she fall for his charming ways? Will Irene's clean reputation rub off on him and make him see the light? Only I know, and you've got to see this very well-written and racy Pre-Code movie to find out.