Palcoscenico nella strada

This is my favorite Hollywood movie of the thirties, and it's hard to tell why. It has a radiance that no other movie has. It's filmed theater, but somehow more alive than real life. It takes ordinary life and challenges us to see the beauty in it, or even the ugliness, anything rather than nothing. It depicts a sordid life, but isn't all life sordid? All actors are wonderful, especially Bondi and Sydney. The camera work is a dream. It makes you love people. Cheap theatrics are deftly avoided. This is art. It makes a symphony of cacophony.

STREET SCENE (United Artists, 1931), produced by Samuel Goldwyn, directed by King Vidor, is a remarkable film in many ways. This screen adaptation to Elmer Rice's Pulitzer Prize winning 1929 stage play, realistically focuses on a group of people of different ethnic backgrounds who gather together on the front steps of their tenement brownstone apartment building on the west side of Manhattan during a summer heat wave in mid July.

The plot, set during a 24 hour period, takes a look on various residents before centering its attention on the Maurrant family. Anna Maurrant (Estelle Taylor), a housewife and mother, has become so bored with her present existence that she carries on an affair with a married man, Steve Sankey (Russell Hopton) while her stern and unsentimental husband, Frank (David Landau) heads off for work. This illicit affair is known by many, thanks to the neighborhood gossip, Emma Jones (Beulah Bondi). Regardless of their knowledge, Frank does have his suspicions, as does their grown daughter, Rose (Sylvia Sidney). Rose is a working girl loved by Sam Kaplan (William Collier Jr.), a Jewish law student living in the same building. Like Rose, Sam longs on moving away to a better life. Although he has strong ambitions, his weakness is being a coward, especially when constantly bullied by Vincent (Matt McHugh), a heavy-set "Momma's Boy." After about an hour or so of realistic dialog, the street scene, as the title indicates, occurs when Frank Maurrant returns home unexpectedly to find the shades of his bedroom window being pulled down.

Light on action, STREET SCENE moves along very swiftly through numerous camera angles. Aside from its plot development of numerous characters, every one of them, down to the last extra, makes his presence count. With the storyline being limited to only the front portion of the building, the inside of the apartment is never shown. Vidor does break away from his limitations in giving the avid movie viewer a eye-view of Manhattan of 1931, ranging from the elevated train, a glimpse of the Chrysler Building and other tenement buildings. The opening sequence, underscored by Alfred Newman's now classic "New York City Theme," is priceless, ranging from children cooling themselves off from the summer heat as they get splashed on with water from a hose connected to a fire hydrant; an alley cat licking a block of ice; a family dog stretched out on the sidewalk to cool off; and a brief look at those now antique fans. The second act of the story, which takes place the following morning, goes a bit further with local boys picking up stacks of newspapers to be delivered; and a man waking up from a good night's sleep on the fire escape, and heading back in his apartment carrying his pillow and sheets through his open window, among others. There is also a noted scene in which Willie (Lambert Rogers), the younger member of the Maurrant family, skating down the street, pausing, yelling up the window to his mother to throw him a dime to buy an ice cream cone. The dime is then wrapped in tissue paper and rubber band and tossed directly to him. Those who recall such childhood memories of New York will definitely relate to these little detailed scenes. Some things, though, never change, notably how a quiet street stirs up a huge crowd whenever an incident occurs as expertly depicted in this photo-play.

Seen in the supporting cast are Greta Grandtedt, Max Mantor, John Qualen, George Humbert, Allan Fox, and Marcia Mae Jones, recognizable in her small role as Mary Hildebrand, one of the neighborhood children. In fact, many of the supporting players appearing in STREET SCENE reprized their roles from the stage version, especially that of Beulah Bondi, making her screen debut. Always an excellent performer, her nasty character nearly steals the film. Sylvia Sidney, with few movie credits to her name at the time, and a native New Yorker, makes a lasting impression with her role as Rose.

STREET SCENE is an excellent theme in storytelling that never lets go of its audience. In spite of its age, it's still timely. One element that shows King Vidor's style of sending out his messages to his viewers without the use of dialog is the use of closeups and facial expressions on several people. They don't say anything, but what they're thinking is passed across its audience. These and many other scenes are what makes STREET SCENE so remarkable, even today. Instances such as those depicted are those that could happen anytime, anywhere, not only in New York, but a movie such as this cannot be remade today or ever without the same impact as it did back in 1931. It's a wonder why STREET SCENE did not earn a single Academy Award nomination.

STREET SCENE, available on video and DVD, had been distributed by numerous public domain companies using reissue prints that substitute Samuel Goldwyn's opening with Associate Artists Productions Presents. Other than its occasional TV showings that have turned up on local public broadcasting stations after the midnight hours, STREET SCENE, occasionally plays Turner Classic Movies. Contrary to its host Robert Osborne in saying in his analysis of STREET SCENE making its TCM premiere on the evening of June 30, 2002, at 8 p.m., someone at the program department failed to indicate to him of its earlier air-date, June 6, 2002, at 7:30 a.m. Regardless, thanks to TCM for ever presenting this rare find, due to it being one of the very few from the early 1930s, that can still be seen and appreciated over and over again. (****)

In front of a New York City tenement, on a swelteringly hot summer day, gossipy Beulah Bondi (as Emma Jones) and neighbors gather to swap stories and complain about the heat. The story focuses on the Maurrant family. Pretty young Sylvia Sidney (as Rose) is the lead, as evident later in the running time. Her beauty attracts the opposite sex, most significantly sensitively Jewish William Collier Jr. (as Sam Kaplan). Mother Estelle Taylor (as Anna) is rumored to be having an affair with milkman Russell Hopton (as Steve Sankey). No wonder, as husband and father David Landau (as Frank) is a nasty, loud-mouthed bigot. Roller-skating son Lambert Rogers (as Willie) rounds out the Maurrant family. He has a great run as part of the classic opening sequence...

Producer Samuel Goldwyn did well in bringing this Elmer Rice's Broadway hit to the motion picture screen. The play won a "Pulitzer Prize" for drama (1929) and the film placed second in the annual "Film Daily" poll (1931).

The play was acted in front of the characters' tenement. The film preserves this gimmick, but stretches its landscape up and down the street. It's artistically directed by King Vidor, fluidly photographed by George Barnes, and features a classic soundtrack by Alfred Newman. We never see the inside of anyone's apartment. Some of the early scenes are stunning, with setting and characters strikingly presented. The great American "melting pot" of various ethnic groups living together in a city is nicely captured; this mixing produced an incredible country, but the stories herein only minimally illustrate a bigger picture. Violence and separation are the rule. As the story progresses, it cools off. "Street Scene" loses some of its sweat, and never its gimmick.

******* Street Scene (8/26/31) King Vidor ~ Sylvia Sidney, William Collier Jr., Estelle Taylor, Beulah Bondi

There is just one scene for the entirety of the film - the front of a brownstone tenement in New York City during the summer. However, residents and visitors come and go, making conversation and sometimes vicious gossip to pass the time on the steps of the building. This is not a film about people living in outright poverty. As a whole,they are one rung above being poor with the safer position of being outright middle class just out of reach. The drama and the conversation mainly revolves around the Maurrant family. Anna Maurrant has been having at least a close relationship and perhaps an affair with the married milkman. We never really see exactly what is going on between them. Anna's husband, Frank, a man who is basically angry at the whole world, thinks that in the depression the fact that he holds down a job should make him husband of the year in the eyes of his wife, and that his barking orders at her should be good enough conversation for her. The couple has a grown daughter, Rose (Sylvia Sidney), whose married boss is leaning hard on her to let him become her "sugar daddy" and set her up in her own apartment. The couple also has a son who is well on his way to becoming a juvenile delinquent. Beulah Bondi really steals the show as a middle-aged housewife who is the building's gossiper-in-chief. She doesn't have a kind word to say about anyone and thinks she knows how every household should be run. She doesn't seem to notice that her own Mama's boy son is a proficient bully and a journeyman gangster.

Sam, the son of a Jewish couple in the building, is somewhat sweet on Rose, as she is on him. Her father outright objects to any relationship based on his own prejudice. The Jewish couple has similar objections, although they try to use the reason that any girlfriend will interfere with Sam's ambitions to become a lawyer.

Then there is the woman and two children who are about to be evicted because the husband has run off and they cannot pay the rent. In one particular scene that is relevant to social attitudes towards the poor today, a welfare worker shows up and chastises the woman when she learns that she has taken the children to the movies - she has spent a whopping 75 cents. When one of the neighbors mentions that he gave the woman some money because it made him feel good and made the woman feel good, the welfare worker replies he shouldn't do that because it is bad for the woman's character.

The whole thing builds slowly and artfully. Everyone knows something violent is going to happen here, the question is who will be the perpetrator and who the victim. There are any number of disgruntled, desperate, and angry people with an ax to grind.

The whole movie is just a very well done depression era slice-of-life film that shows that the residents may come and go, but the situations for whatever occupants that live there will remain the same. They will remain people one paycheck away from poverty, and possibly one revelation or argument away from violence. Highly recommended if you can find a copy.

King Vidor's Street Scene, from the infancy of the sound era, may be cinema's quintessential slice of life. Drawn from the 1929 Pulitzer Prize-winning drama by Elmer Rice – so many movies from the earliest 1930s were little more than filmed stage plays – Street Scene surmounts the limitations of its time and its material to achieve the status of a minor milestone in movie history. It's dated, occasionally clumsy, but unforgettable.

Street Scene's microcosm is a brownstone in a Manhattan tenement block during a scorching heat wave. The residents, in their various comings and goings, loiter on its front stoop to catch a stray zephyr and exchange some gossip. The gossip-in-chief is Beulah Bondi, a dried-up streel griping that she doesn't have a `dry stitch' on her (Vidor permits himself a cheeky shot of her, shot from below and behind, when she furtively unsticks her house dress from her, well, person).

Incidental players include a henpecked young husband whose wife is about to go into labor; an elderly Jew spouting socialist rant; his son, a non-violent college man with a crush on a gentile girl; cheerful Italians and dour Scandinavians; pinched and bitter social workers; gasbags, mashers and inebriates.

After reviling the weather with immemorial cliches, the characters turn wickedly to their chief topic: the milkman's suspicious visits to a married woman upstairs. (Her daughter, the central character in the drama -- Sylvia Sidney -- makes a later entrance but will ring down the curtain.) Meanwhile, the characters carry on city life in a rough-and-tumble of casually aimed racist barbs, sanctimonious judgementalism, and general acceptance of the notion that one's neighbors' lives are the reality television of the day, to be viewed with gusto. The potent cocktail of slander and humidity will have fatal results.

Vidor employs his talents adroitly. The movie's first `act' stays stubbornly crouched on that stoop, but gradually Vidor opens up his stage in a series of tilts and pans so that the brownstone becomes but one cell in a bustling urban organism. (Technically, it's precocious, and the story's dramatic `climax' arrives in a montage that may elicit smiles but still remains impressive.) Surviving current attitudes about political correctness and convincing `realism' (that most elusive of artifices), Street Scene endures as haunting, human experiment – among the finest of the first `talkies.'

Note: Rice's play was later to become the libretto to Kurt Weill's Broadway `opera' Street Scene.