O Rei dos Mendigos

Offbeat drama from Monogram and director Phil Rosen. Lionel Atwill stars as John Dawson, the charismatic head of a prosperous steel company. He's well-liked by his workers, but his board of directors are always looking for a quicker profit, and one member of the board has his sights set on Dawson's seat. After an "accident" at the steel mill destroys Dawson's legs, he is swindled out of his company and his fortune. He's soon after believed killed in a train accident, but in fact he sets out, with new blind friend Marchant (Henry B. Walthall), to organize the city's crippled and lame men and women into a corporation of beggars whose meager daily take is invested by Dawson, making them all millionaires, and allowing Dawson to have his revenge.

This plays like many of the Depression-era fantasies that envision sweeping change at the hands of righteous people against the corrupt and greedy who are destroying the nation and its institutions. The plot is honestly one that I haven't quite seen before, which alone is a rarity, and the odd cast pull off the roles. The settings are basic, as this is a Monogram picture, but that doesn't really hinder the storytelling.

I guess one of the reasons I liked this film so much was because my expectations were so incredibly low. After all, this film was made by a "Poverty Row" studio I'd never heard of and the movie has slipped into the public domain. Plus, while I like the star, Lionel Atwill, he had a habit of making films for crap studios. Fortunately, I was wrong and I thoroughly enjoyed the movie...even if the plot is a tiny bit tough to believe.

The film starts off with Atwill playing a tycoon who owns a very successful steel mill. He's an interesting boss, as he often goes to work with the men in the mill! I thought this was an interesting idea but it didn't work all that well for one major reason--Atwill's erudite presence just made it very, very hard to believe him working in a steel mill! But, despite this, the plot became very interesting very quickly. It seems that a corporation wanted to buy up his mill but Atwill had no interest in selling. So, to force the sale, the leader of some horrible schemers did some outrageously evil things. First, he instigated an accident in the mill where Atwill was almost killed. In fact, his legs were burned off by molten steel deliberately poured on him!! He spent the next several months in the hospital--during which time, the evil plan grew. First, they convinced him to give his power of attorney to his "loving wife"--who then sold the mill! Then, she ran off to Europe with all the funds--leaving Atwill poor and without the business! Later, however, Atwill is able to recreate his fortune in a very unique way--he forms a union, of sorts, with the handicapped beggars on the street (much more common in the 1930s than today, thank God). He helped them find gainful employment, invested their earnings, got them health and retirement plans--and made a wonderful life for these marginally employable men. Why he did this was partly because he was a nice person and part of this was so that he could rebuild his fortune and regain his old factory. The plan would take many, many years and there were some nice twists along the way, but by the end of the film, he has his confrontation with his arch-enemy--the man who did so much to orchestrate his ruin.

Overall, the film has a truly unique plot that kept me guessing. While you'd think it would simply be a tale of betrayal and revenge, it was so much more. It also is one of the better early depictions of the handicapped as having so much more to offer society and themselves. And, to top it all off, the acting was very good--especially Atwill and his friend, played by Henry Walthall. A nice little hidden gem.

By the way, a 9 seems like a high score, but I am comparing it to other B-films. Compared to the rest, this is definitely a standout--one that got me thinking well after the film ended.

It starts out with Lionel Atwill the co-owner of a steel mill where he eats lunchbox meals with the puddlers. Partner Jameson Thomas steals his wife and tries to have Atwill killed, but 'only' cripples him. He wanders the country in a wheelchair, and with the help of blind accordionist Henry B. Walthall, organizes the handicapped beggars into a huge self-help organization, to take over his company and gain his revenge.

It's a fine performance by Atwill, and a beautiful print to watch it on. There are several peculiarities about the film that make me think that the novel it was based on, by Esther Lynd Day, was far more polemical than the movie, and that extensive swaths and subplots were trimmed by editor Jack Ogilvie. Instead, we have sequences of motionlessness centered around Atwill that made me stare.... but from which I could garner nothing.

Even so, the essentially bizarre story kept me interested through the end, as did Atwill's calm and thoughtful performance. Plus any chance to see Walthall in a significant role is a treat for me. With Betty Furness, Astrid Allwyn, and a clean-shaven Gabby Hayes with his teeth in.

It is almost as if, about a month prior to production, director Phil Rosen and his scenarist, Tristram Tupper, (sounds like a character W. C. Fields would play, huh?), got together to confer on what would be the dullest way to tell this story. I mean, clearly the most intriguing element, as the title suggests, is the forming of a labor union of homeless mendicants. You would think, at the very least, the difficulties in creating such an association would be front and center, to mention nothing of the perils such a union would face from corporate America. But no. The union is formed and, literally five minutes later, is so successful that its creator, played by Lionel Atwill, is living in a friggin mansion! Meanwhile, the conflict and dramatic tension that should have been given to the rise of organized, disabled, poor, blind beggars is instead outsourced (to employ a capitalist/labor term) to really boring stuff involving Atwill's revenge on a moustache twirling corporate villain who, for some reason that is not explained, has murdered Atwill's unfaithful spouse. The result is lots of ennui and little interest beyond some nice, left wing, pro unionism, the usual good work of Atwill, playing a good guy for a welcome change, and a fine supporting bit from D. W. Griffith veteran Henry B. Walthall whose gentle ethereality both anticipates and supersedes Leslie Howard. Give it a C plus.

the reviews of this film unfairly marginalize it for lack of realism. Did they scoff at, say, "Fight Club" for such reasons? It's far more unique and interesting for its cache of Depression-era lore and its assumptions about the dispossessed. Highly recommended for its bizarre mix of creepiness and homiletic. Obviously allegorical, it nevertheless fails -i think somehow deliberately - in being uplifting and points instead to something sinister in the crippled, maimed and poverty-stricken denizens of the city. The blind accordionist who attaches himself to Atwill wears glasses which are half black, half clear. His speeches are absurdly virtuous cliché, which belie his mendacious appearance in a very unconvincing way. I also noticed the back of the envelope calculations Atwill makes when pitching his stock market club for beggars only involved impossible amounts: millions in months. A lot of ticker tape shenanigans go on in the second half of the film, all of which are so exaggerated, I ended up thinking public anxiety about the market was also being channeled here quite volubly, along with fear of the disabled and wretched poor. In a word, peculiar.