Gentleman's Fate

This film begins with a rich playboy by the name of "Jack Thomas" (John Gilbert) living the life of luxury while also courting a beautiful woman named "Marjorie Channing" (Leila Hyams) who he absolutely adores. His life changes, however, when he is shocked to learn that, rather than being an orphan, his father is alive but in critical condition in New Jersey due to a gunshot wound incurred while operating an illegal bootlegging operation. Not only that, but upon visiting his father he also learns that he has an older brother named "Frank Tomasulo" (Louis Wolheim) who has been taking care of the family business during his father's injury as well. What he isn't prepared for, however, is the reaction from his fiancé when he tries to help his dying father by taking the blame for a crime he did not commit. Now, rather than reveal any more, I will just say that I was pleasantly surprised by how good this film turned out to be. For starters, I really liked the performance of John Gilbert who seemed tailor-made for his role. Additionally, having two beautiful actresses like Anita Page (as "Ruth Corrigan") and the aforementioned Leila Hyams certainly didn't hurt either. Be that as it may, although it was definitely a bit dated, I still found this film to be quite enjoyable and I have rated it accordingly. Above average.

This was MGM's big hope of getting on the Warner Brothers' gangster film bandwagon. Although this turned out to be a reasonable gangster movie which does look very much like a real Warner picture, there's not much emotion to engage you.

Warner's Mervyn LeRoy was loaned to MGM to give this that gritty underworld edginess he had given to LITTLE CEASAR which he'd made a few months earlier. LeRoy certainly succeeds; again he perfectly encapsulates the shabby seedy and constantly dangerous feel of the era. He further enhances this by contrasting it with the upper class society world Jack, played by John Gilbert believed he was born into. It proves that MGM could also make a WB gangster movie but something is missing: it lacks soul.

That emotional disengagement is what would reduce this from 'great' to just 'good.' This film is however not 'good' but just 'ok' and that's because the acting is atrocious, really atrocious. Being made in 1931 is no excuse for bad acting, the style is deliberate and down to the director. Mervyn LeRoy made excellent films so it's ofd that he was so below par with this - especially considering he had a bigger budget than he was used to at Warners - maybe that was the problem? You also wonder whether Jack Warner might have said to his employee, LeRoy, that it might be a good idea if he didn't make this picture for a rival studio quite as good as he could? What is surprising is how little influence Mervyn LeRoy seems to have over how John Gilbert performs. John Gilbert, who was possibly the biggest star of the silent screen so he knew what his fans wanted...or what they wanted five years earlier. You can't teach an old dog new tricks especially when that old dog thinks what it's doing is what is needed and also when it's being paid $10,000 a week to do it. Long moody stares and even longer dramatic pauses don't cut the mustard anymore! Perhaps Mervyn LeRoy was too nervous to risk changing Gilbert's tried and trusted style?

Watching films from 1929/30 you can tell which actors will succeed in the talkies and which ones won't: John Gilbert definitely looks like one that won't. He comes across very much like an actor rather than a real believable character. He's not a bad actor, he's just not suited for this. Someone who is a bad actor is Louis Wolheim. He plays the brother and although it's sad to learn that he died just a few days after filming this, he still is the worst actor in the world. He's truly appalling - well, he is to us in the 21st century. It's interesting to get a peak into the minds of those who were alive then to see what they considered to be good acting.

Personally I'm not much of a fan of LITTLE CAESAR and I didn't actually find this particularly worse. Those are both massively inferior to PUBLIC ENEMY and the the magnificent lesser known Paramount gangster film of 1931, CITY STREETS. This is still worth watching but if you're a fan of thirties gangster films, it's absolutely essential.

Gentleman's Fate is okay, nothing more. To maintain momentum it repeatedly lurches off into another plot tangent, peters out and then lurches again until it finally lurches to a blah finish. It begins with the dapper and handsome Mr. John Gilbert as a pampered Park Avenue- type playboy rising uncharacteristically at 7:30am to declare that he is finished playing the field and determined to marry and settle down with pretty Leila Hyams. Just as he is proposing to her to the strains of "Little White Lies" on the radio over morning coffee against the skyline of the Big Apple, the phone rings, and here is the first lurch. The caller is his wealthy, powerful, Italian-accented "guardian," suddenly informing him that his biological father is dying in Jersey City and wants to see him. He is directed to the "Ritzi" hotel, a dive where he discovers he has a biological brother (played by Louis Wolheim who looks absolutely nothing like Gilbert, an irony which the script is forced to address momentarily) and a gangster father succumbing to a bullet wound from a mob fight. The dying father gives Gilbert an emerald necklace which he in turn passes on to his fiancée, but soon she finds out that it had been stolen from a friend of hers. When she realizes her fiancée is not what she thought, she breaks the engagement, and in a fit of disappointment, Gilbert joins the mob and learns the bootlegging trade. Just when he has mastered it, another lurch. Anita Page shows up as the moll of a rival gang sent to spy on Gilbert's gang, but she switches loyalties, falls in love with Gilbert, and…. I won't go on, lest I spoil the plot for those who haven't seen the film. Marie Prevost provides comic relief, such as she can, as a Ritzi denizen who spends her time uttering inanities while feeding her face with whatever foodstuffs are available.

The photogenic and refined Gilbert is called upon to enact various states including carefree, exuberant, poetic, romantic and passionate, drunk and angry. He is good to excellent at all of them. He is eminently watchable. His voice was indeed high pitched, but not extremely so. One can only guess that his molten lover image from the silent days hung over his screen persona to such an extent that audiences expected more depth from the vocal chords. There is no logical reason why Gilbert should be cast in this role. Antonio Moreno, perhaps, or maybe even Ricardo Cortez, but Gilbert? Clearly, MGM was out to sabotage him and to his credit he stood up and did justice to the thankless task presented to him.

This early Mervyn Le Roy work starts out as an intriguing look at class, self-identity, and a mixing of two worlds, but less than halfway through it switches to a standard bootleggers-and- their-molls flick. In both sections, there are some loose ends flapping. We first encounter Gilbert as a well-to-do, polished Manhattanite, unaware that his money comes from the illegal liquor trade, and also unaware that his dad, whom he thought dead, is alive and dying, and he has a brother, Louis Wolheim (Louis Wolheim as John Gilbert's brother? even the script tries to make a joke of it), who runs the dirty business. Where the heck did he think all his money came from, anyway, and how was he catapulted into such high living? The movie doesn't say. Anyway, upon discovering his humble origins, he's at first repelled and then sucked into the family business, resorting to murder and taking up with moll Anita Page (who's rather touching) because he can't get over being dumped by fiancée Leila Hyams. It's run-of-the-mill booze, broads, and guns from there, though the ending's unexpectedly downbeat and depressing (he has sinned, but surely he didn't deserve this). Gilbert is better than his reputation suggests--there was absolutely nothing wrong with his voice, and he emotes persuasively. But it's basically downhill from a good start.

Earlier this morning I was watching a movie on TCM from 1931 - "Gentleman's Fate". It was the first "talkie" that John Gilbert did after reigning as the matinée idol of the "silents", and the fateful movie that revealed his nasally throated voice, sadly. Yet, it was a great teaching on how movies struggled with sound after being quiet for many years.

The awkward moves and scene flows of each actor, and no music rising or lowering under scenes, made for an interesting movie.

In my opinion though, the best part in the whole flick was when a character was coming down the stairs obviously intoxicated.

The "dame" who sees him is cracking and eating walnuts and asks,

"Hey. Are you plastered?" In which he replies, "Plastered? Sistah ... I'm Stuccoed!" Another character enters the scene as the drunkard leaves. The "dame" reaches out her hand to offer the cracked walnuts and says, "...nuts?"

He looks at the drunk struggling to climb back up the stairs, looks back at her and just nods..."...yes".

Ya just can't get dialog like that anymore! Loved it.