Minha Mulher

This is wonderful! OK, I'll re-phrase that: for this type of film it's wonderful, possibly even perfect. If you like a well acted, cleverly written 1930s light romantic drama that's not slushy, you'll love this.

Why you'll enjoy this is because the characters are so likeable and believable. You can't help yourself instantly being drawn into their story. Helen Twelvetrees is like a female equivalent to William Powell inasmuch that she's the nicest person in the world! She's not just a pretty face, not just the adorable 'girl next door' type but she seems just so darned nice - but not is a mushy, simpering, staring wistfully into the distance sort of way. She's normal, someone you could be friends with.

Wallace Ford in this is also someone you'd like to go on holiday with. Although he's a bit of a rubbish husband, a lazy so and so and as the film progresses really quite obnoxious, you still just can't help liking him. Even Victor Jory, 'the other man' could be your best mate! It's that likeability factor which makes this so engrossing.

The story comes from the same mould as A STAR IS BORN - a happily married couple discovering different paths, discovering they want different things out of life. The acting, the direction and the overall look is a grade above what you'd normally expect from Columbia. This is very classy. Unlike a lot of early thirties pictures (especially with Helen Twelvetrees) which are horribly sentimental, this tells the story of a rocky marriage honestly but without ever getting too heavy. It's also SO 1930s!

The plot's pretty familiar—wife Connie (Twelvetrees) sacrifices her show biz career so that hubby (Ford) can get a big break in radio. Trouble is success goes to his head and he gravitates toward smug socialite (Dodd). So what's poor spurned Connie to do.

I tuned in for two reasons. First to see the woman behind the distinctly unHollywood name of Twelvetrees. I guess I was expecting an exotic brunette. Instead, a blonde on the order of a Joan Blondell appeared, without the sass, but good enough to win my sympathy as the wronged wife. Second, I enjoy seeing old radio studios, having grown up with radio drama. To me, the best scenes are those in the studio, especially the awful auditions, though I thought the crooners were pretty good. But I guess the airways were saturated with would-be Bing Crosby's. Also, the obstacle course of offices Connie has to negotiate to get to the top is humorously revealing. On the other hand, it's a real stretch seeing how sensible Connie could be enamored with her rather annoying husband Chick, (Ford). It's not just his voice but his manner too. Plus, his comedy routine is about as funny as a sore throat.

Overall, there's nothing special here, unless it's the spiffed-out Victor Jory as a radio exec., a departure from his usual grungy tough guy roles. Anyway, I'd catch 12-trees again, though her real life story suggests a more interesting narrative than the movie's.

HELEN TWELVETREES is a platinum blonde singer in a Panama cabaret when VICTOR JORY shows up. She learns that he's a big radio producer and gets herself introduced to him. He tells her to look him up if she ever gets to New York and he'll get her an audition. He's under the impression that she's unmarried and doesn't know she wants the audition for her husband's act.

She and hubby WALLACE FORD come to the big city but get the runaround for a few weeks by Jory's office staff. Finally, she bumps into him on the street and gets her wish for an audition. Jory is romantically interested in her, disappointed when she admits the audition is for her husband. Nevertheless, Ford gets his chance.

The balance of the plot is similar to every show biz story ever told. Ford becomes an obnoxious swellhead with fame and his wife falls out of love with him and into the arms of Jory. Nothing new or unexpected.

It's all dreadfully dated stuff with Wallace's radio routine supposedly establishing him as a successful comedian. Only reason I kept watching was to see what Helen Twelvetrees was like. The lady with the unusual name is a cross between Virginia Bruce and Glenda Farrell--pretty but nothing remarkable about her singing or acting. In fact, her singing only made me wince.

An unusual angle is seeing Victor Jory as the second romantic lead.

Strictly forgettable fluff.

Let me explain: "My Woman" comes from the same studio as Moe, Larry, and Curly, and what they have in common is minimal production values-- though less effort was, of course, put into Three Stooges shorts than into feature films, even one as tossed-off (and poorly titled) as this one.

According to Wikipedia: "During the 1930s, the eight majors averaged a total of 358 feature film releases a year." That's about one movie from each studio every eight days. "My Woman" was from Columbia, which wasn't even a major in the 30's, so they had even fewer resources, and it shows in their products, which were cranked out like jelly beans.

Among the victims of Hollywood's factories was the star of this film, Helen Twelvetrees, a cute and competent platinum blonde from Brooklyn. She made 33 movies in her brief 10-year career, and none were much more famous than this one. She died, aged 49, a suicide.

The plot is so ordinary it hardly bears revealing-- wife helps husband with radio career, husband gets famous and insufferable, wife has to choose between him and lusting producer. Roughly.

There was only one scene I really enjoyed, an extended comic riff about half an hour in. The omnipresent character actor Charles Lane (350 screen credits!) brings a batch of clients to audition for some very bored radio executives. One audition is worse than the next, but the most preposterous by far is a young (39 at the time) Walter Brennan as a stuttering actor whose act is animal noises. Reeaallly lousy animal noises, which cannot be easy to perform. He's halfway through his South American fauna when he's yanked. "You're off the air old man," the stage hand says when he takes the mike. "Nerts to you," stutters Brennan.

He's the only character I wanted more of.