Paixão Sem Freio

Of course, this film is going to be of interest primarily to film history buffs and fans of early sound film, but it is not so static and halting in speech as many early talkies were.

Paramount's high production values are in full bloom here, and William Powell, in his first talking role, does a pretty good job of playing the dissolute playboy, Philip Voaze, presumed killed in action during World War I. Evelyn Brent plays Deborah Kane, the rejected girlfriend who spots Philip at his own memorial service. It's hard to believe such an attractive woman would still be carrying a torch for someone who threw her over so many years before. After tracking Philip down, Deborah still evokes no emotion from him - he wants no part of her. However, Deborah is a vengeful woman and she blames Faith, the girl that Philip dumped her for and married before the war began, for her troubles.

Deborah also realizes that she has a blackmail worthy scandal in the fact that Faith is now married to a prominent surgeon, Sir John Marlay (Clive Brook). This makes Faith a bigamist. What I could never figure out is why the letters written between Faith and Philip were such hot items in this blackmail scheme. They were written before Philip went to war and before she ever met and married Dr. Marlay and ,after all, Philip had been pronounced legally dead years before.

At any rate, Faith is shortly thereafter confronted by the seething rejected mistress who delights in tormenting her, and Deborah requests the sum of five hundred pounds at frequent intervals or else she will sell her letters and story to the newspapers. At first Faith comes up with the money, but when she winds up short she finally tells everything to her husband. Philip also finds out about the blackmail. 24 hours later Deborah is discovered dead from poison found almost exclusively in a doctor's possession. Faith, Sir John, and Philip have all had access to this concoction. The question is, who did it? The story is pretty good and well acted by all of the players. There are a few gestures that appear to be hold-overs from the silents such as someone giving a speech, waiting a few seconds, and then burying their head in their hands. However, all in all, this is a worthy first effort at sound film by Paramount. The cinematography was very well done with frequent cross-cutting between static scenes that give the illusion of movement. The video is in pretty good shape for a 1928 film, but the sound is rather poor through the first third of the film. One aspect that was really rather poorly done was William Powell's makeup. He plays a man with a degenerative heart condition that is slowly killing him. To make him appear increasingly sick, makeup is applied that has more of the effect of making him look like some kind of silent film villain than someone who is desperately ill. By the film's conclusion his face is almost completely white and he has dark circles painted on under his eyes.

Recommended for students of early sound film and fans of William Powell, of which I am both.

This film is Paramount's first full talkie and it was highly thought of at the time of it's release. Alas, it doesn't wear well today. Directed by special-effects golden boy Roy Pomeroy, this film is possibly slower paced than Warner's first all-talking effort, The Lights of New York, released a few months earlier. Evelyn Brent easily takes the acting honors here, although the entire cast suffers under Pomeroy's leaden direction. Legend has it that Pomeroy, full of himself after conquering some of the technical problems of early sound filming, demanded a raise from $250.00 per week to $2,500.00 per week. He got that, but upon completion of Interference asked for $3,500.00. By that time some of Pomeroy's "secrets" were becoming more well-known to the other directors. Pomeroy was shown the door. Watching this early production directed by a technician, we can be thankful that clearer heads prevailed and good direction was just around the corner from this effort. This film is of interest to film buffs, but you won't need to take a sleeping pill before going beddy-bye if you sit through all of this.

A few years after World War I, a woman named "Deborah Kane" (Evelyn Brent) decides to attend a memorial service in honor of her ex-boyfriend "Philip Voaze" (William Powell), only to spot him standing several feet away in the crowd. Startled by this, she immediately follows him to his apartment and, after a brief discussion, discovers that he not only survived the war but has been living abroad for a few years under another name to start anew. Considering that she is still very much in love with him, his sudden reappearance delights her immensely. However, her joy turns to anger when he expresses curiosity about his ex-wife, "Faith Marlay" (Doris Kenyon), who has since married a prominent heart surgeon named "Sir John Marlay" (Clive Brook). Additionally, when he tells her that he has no interest in rekindling their relationship, she quickly concludes that he still has feelings for Faith, and this enrages her to the point that she suddenly decides to blackmail her by exposing the fact that she remarried while her previous husband remains alive. What she doesn't count on, however, is the reaction from both Sir John Marlay and her former boyfriend when they become aware of her schemes. Now, rather than reveal any more, I will just say that I was quite impressed with this picture, especially considering the period in which it was made. Admittedly, some viewers might be put off by how dated the film is, but I suppose that's to be expected. Regardless, I enjoyed this movie for the most part, and I have rated it accordingly.

Not a great film, or even a very good one, the main point of interest in watching Interference is its place in history.

In 1928, most film theaters were either owned by a film studio or "block" booked so that a patron of that venue would always see a Fox Film (if it was a "Fox" theater), a Paramount film (if it was a Paramount theater) and so on. Indeed, to this day, many old palaces still bear these logos though the practice ended mid-century. For a large chunk of filmgoers, this was the birth of a new art form. And for this reason, for me, watching "Interference" was irresistable.

I viewed an old MCA TV 16mm print (on tape) that had been transferred using the 1:16 Movietone matte. This matte normally obscures the soundtrack which intruded the left side of the picture until 1931. Films of this period were usually sent to theaters according to the sound system that particular theater used: sound-on-film or Vitaphone disc. [Also very confusing for directors struggling for decent photographic composition] This print had sound on disc and consequently the titles and action got cropped on the left side.

Our story concerns a war veteran (Powell) attending a memorial service. As he had been erroneously reported as killed in action, an old girlfriend (Brent)is shocked to see him. She gives chase, and it is revealed his wife has married and English lord. The girlfriend threatens to tell and the 'interference' begins.

William Powell is very watchable, until he does his drunk scene. Unfortunately, I've seen all the 'Thin Man' films and have seen him take 'tipsy' to new heights. His hand movements, here, are smooth and precise. Evelyn Brent is even better, giving a real star performance of a confused, vengeful mistress. Mr. Brook 's just fine, adequately uppity. The thing just falls apart with Doris Kenyon's scenes. She's lost and I fault the director, J. Roy Pomeroy. It's just so obvious, all of her lines are delivered like questions, with the inflection tailing up at the end.

Now, J. Roy Pomeroy had never directed a film before. In a perfect example of being in the right place at the right time, Pomeroy was head of the special effects department at Paramount when a committee to study the sound "fad" was formed. He was named technical advisor to study which sound system (Vitaphone disc, RCA or Western Electric sound-on-film) was superior for Paramount, MGM, Universal, First National and Producer's Distributing Organization. His decree was each were perfectly satisfactory, the confusion began. A quote given to Variety in 1928: "One year will be required to photograph a feature picture accompanied by a complete dialogue duly recorded by a soundtrack." The 'expert' went on to point out that in a dialogue, silence must follow each character's speech lest the audience become lost. Pomeroy worked on the post-synchronized "Warming Up", a Richard Dix baseball comedy. First hand accounts sound hilarious.

Then, as an expert in a field of one, he was assigned to direct Paramount's first talker. He demanded his $250 per week salary be increased to $2,500. Henry Hathaway recalled he spat on you as he talked, "you'd get all wet." But he couldn't direct. "Interference" is the proof.

So enjoy the Lothar Mendes production touches and plot twists. I enjoyed imagining myself at a theater in 1928, seeing what all the fuss is about. Evelyn Brent fans should consider this a must-see.

William Powell was reported dead in action. Now he lives a quiet life under another name. But for some reason, he has a medical exam, and goes to see Doctor Clive Brook. There he discovers that his "widowed" wife, Doris Kenyon is now married to Brook, and she is being blackmailed by Evelyn Brent, Powell's would-be lover, with some racy letters she wrote to Powell.

Paramount's first talkie picture is directed by Roy Pomeroy after all the other directors at the studio passed on it. Their worries about the primitive state of the recording equipment seem justified by the copy I looked at. Despite a print that was in decent shape, the sound is buzzy, echoes, and difficult to understand; frequently all that comes through is the timber of the actor. Add to that slow pace of the dialogue, and the movie creeps along, except for a brief section in which Brook is staging a scene to look like a suicide. I'm pleased to subtract this title from my must-see list, but wish it were better paced. Perhaps the silent version, directed by Lothar Mendes, moves along better.