L'avventura di Teri

William Powell is a smooth jewel thief who captivates Kay Francis in "Jewel Robbery," a 1932 film made before the dreaded code kicked in.

Set in Vienna, Francis plays a baroness who, like her friends, has married a dull man for money and takes lovers. While her husband is buying her a 28-carat diamond and she's arguing with her boyfriend, William Powell and his team enter to rob the store. It's love at first sight.

This is a slight but very amusing film, interesting for the racy story line, the outfits, and Kay Francis herself. A very unusual-looking woman, Francis' heyday was in the '30s, and everything about her screamed '30s, of course - her hair, her fashions, and the kind of films she made. She's somewhat frozen in time there.

Powell is his usual dashing, delightful self, and the two work very well together. The scene at Powell's place is particularly interesting, as she demands not to be asked to do anything, but to be forced, at which point, he picks her up and throws her onto his huge bed. "But there are so many pleasant in between steps," she objects.

A delightful movie, not terribly long, but fascinating given the era in film in which it was made.

"Jewel Robbery" reflects the comic virtuosity of actors and actresses - and directors - in an eclectic Hollywood too soon to be stifled by THE Code. Kay Francis, little known to most movie buffs today, sparkles as a liberated, adventuresome and bored wife of a doting, not doddering exactly, but boring rich hubby. Apparently only his largess keeps her hitched and she seems quite open about looking for some exciting liaisons and she ain't talking about platonic ones either. The sexual innuendos aren't subtle. Neither are they serious.

William Powell is a suave and quick-witted gentleman jewel thief. In one sentence he dismisses the violence of his American counterparts, asserting the urbane civility of the European high class criminal.

"Reefer Madness," one of Hollywood's all-time great comedies, came out in 1937. In 1932 Powell, the jewel thief, dispenses marijuana cigarettes left and right and although the name is never used, the goofy behavior of the smokers prefigures the exaggerated and demonic grass-induced St. Vitus dance of the later documentary.

A short, sprightly comedy where crime is neither dangerous nor particularly even objectionable, "Jewel Robbery" is a small gem from a long bygone Hollywood. If you can rent it, do so. You won't be disappointed.

This is a sparkling and witty fantasy about a pampered society dame (Kay Francis) who has become aware of the hollowness of her life and a dapper jewel thief (William Powell) who steals her treasures and awakens her from her golden tedium. I call it a "fantasy" because, sadly, we've become too aware of how real crime and criminals work. There's no effort to conceal faces, the robbery crew addresses each other by first name, Powell plays soothing music and engages in witty banter with those he's robbing, but nonetheless it's very entertaining to watch. Another odd aspect of this unusual film is that Powell gives his victims marijuana cigarettes to smoke, to make them passive and jovial. This is one of those pre-code films from that tiny window where sound had come in, the depression was on and the Production Codes weren't re-writing movies like Jewel Robbery. See it when you can. Like the object of it's main character obsession, it is truly a gem.

This is one of the raciest films of the 1930's. A married woman is having affairs all over the place, and then is willingly seduced by a gallant jewel thief. The movie just drips with illicit sex - you've got to see this one to believe it. Damn the Production Code for stopping films like this! Wavising Kay Fwancis has never been better!

Jewel Robbery (1932)

If you haven't seen why Pre-Code films are a riot—and very very well made— watch this one. Here the sassy, sexy, glammed up heist of a jewelry store becomes a game of manners and courtship. Jewels do in fact get stolen, but that's so not the point of the movie.

Centerpiece is William Powell, the superstar status still to come with his "Thin Man" and "Godfrey" roles. He's in top form, always a bit peculiar but really lovable and suave because of it. One of a kind.

Equal to him is Kay Francis, who is alive on screen like few actresses, and a great foil to Powell's cool. If Powell is still famous, Francis is not, and the reasons are not clear. (She was labeled "Box Office Poison" in a famous 1938 article, but that same piece labeled Joan Crawford and Kate Hepburn as well, both of whom had hardly begun their mature careers.) But Francis is a wonder in her heyday and you may as well start here to get why. (She was for years in the 1930s the highest paid actress bar none.)

So if you aren't convinced to see this yet, take the set design, the tightly engineered photography and editing, and the overall direction by William Dieterle, who is an underrated master of the classic Hollywood years. Again, just see this for proof.

As for the Code and its effect here, listen to the banter, which is fast and loaded with double entendres. No one skips a beat, and the fast swirl never gets confusing. Really a remarkably packed 70 minutes.