Uma Dama do Outro Mundo

Mae West throws all the curves in this one as a singer (?) in the 1890s who dumps her boxer boyfriend in a mix-up and runs off to New Orleans to perform and live there. She's featured in a stunning musical number where she models a shimmering gown against which numerous costumes are superimposed by a projector! One pose has her as lady liberty. Unfortunately, this is a less liberated, somewhat cleaned-up Mae West. She still likes to have fun, and enough gags remain to make this one worth a few solid laughs. Good production by Paramount.

As I watched the Mae West film, "Belle of the Nineties", I found myself wishing they'd made the movie six months earlier. This is because the film debuted in September, 1934...a couple months after the new toughened Production Code came into effect. This is because West's shtick was bawdy humor....and in the Code era, nothing even remotely bawdy would be allowed. So, as a result, West's character is pretty dull and the movie mostly forgettable.

Mae stars as Ruby, a woman who sings in the saloon owned by a local baddie, Ace Lamont. Lamont was played by John Miljan...a man who always played disreputable jerks. So, you know from the outset that he's a guy up to no good. But, like EVERY man in a Mae West film, he is drawn to her like a moth to a flame. But because he's bad to the core, he wants Ruby AND he wants to screw her...out of her diamonds. Can Ruby outsmart this conniving jerk?

It's odd, but after the movie was over, I already found myself forgetting it. Sure, a Code picture with West could be good ("My Little Chickadee" and "Go West Young Man" were pretty good Code films), but this one just seemed to be so neutered that it was dull and forgettable. Gone are West's terrific one liners as well as any sense of fun.

The movie star most affected by the newly enforced Production Code was Mae West. She was one of the main catalysts why a stricter enforcement from the Hays Office was enacted by mid-1934. West's first movie under the new censorship system, September 1934's "Belle of the Nineties," underwent several laborious revisions before filming was underway as well as being required by the censors to reshoot several scenes after their circumspect review of the movie.

West was familiar with uptight censors from her previous stage and early movie works. Thrown in a New York City jail after police shut down her first play in 1927, the now-41-year-old actress wrote a bawdy movie script based on her play, 'It Ain't No Sin,' knowing the Hays Office was going to chop it to shreds. Her low opinion on censors was reflected in her autobiography. "Every person who is not a moron or a mental defective of some sort carries a very effective censor and super-critic of his actions in his cerebral cortex, and in his heart," West wrote. "If that doesn't work, no amount of censorship from the outside will do anybody any good." West was well prepared which passages were going to be sliced, and wrote a backup script with less raunchy lines.

The censors at first amazingly left in the original title. Paramount Pictures, as a publicity stunt, gathered 40 parrots and taught them to say the phrase "It Ain't No Sin." Eventually, head censor Jospeh Breen realized the title had to be changed and demanded it be. Since no one wanted parrots who repeatedly shrieking "It Ain't No Sin," they were all transported back to South America where they came from and released into the jungle. The birds could be heard by the natives in the area for years high up in the trees screeching the line over and over again.

Before the "Belle of the Nineties" was seen by the censors, the studio previewed the movie before an audience. The viewers howled at Mae West's racy lines and the situations she found herself in. But that was before the censors visually saw it and sliced out some, in their eyes, questionable scenes. The end result was acceptable by contemporary film critics back then as well as the public, although it failed to gain the popularity as her previous movies. Wrote one The New York Times reviewer, "There are gags for every taste and most of them are outrageously funny according to almost any standard of humor." Today's reassessment of "Belle of the Nineties" is not as generous as when it was first released. Modern reviewer Barry Chapman noted her movie "would probably have been a lot funnier if the Hays Office hadn't 'protected' moviegoers." An even harsher review was written by David Nusair, highlighting the movie is "unlikely to please even the most ardent of West's followers, with the almost total absence of positive attributes, aside from West's mere presence." "Belle of the Nineties" does offer several songs from West, backed by the Duke Ellington Orchestra, including what would become the popular hit "My Old Flame."

The actress adjusted to the new moral code to deliver first-rate comedy films, but none came close to her 1933 hits "She Done Him Wrong" and "I'm No Angel." The viewing public was looking for more sauce on the screen, and were denied that because of the censors' heavy hand.

... Paramount Pictures, and director Leo McCarey. West stars as Ruby Carter, an infamous stage performer known as much for her headline-grabbing social life as for her sex-drenched song numbers. She gets mixed up in love with hot-headed boxer Tiger Kid (Roger Pryor) and New Orleans nightclub owner Ace Lamont (John Miljan). Also featuring Mike Mazurki in his debut.

The always-boundary-pushing West ran up hard against the censors and the newly tightening Production Code here, and much of the film had to be reshot to appease them. Even so, many scenes were cut depending on the market it was playing in, and the film proved to be West's first box office disappointment. There's not much to the story, but there rarely is in her films. They serve as a showcase for her unique charms and one-liners. The supporting cast is okay. I wasn't familiar with Pryor, who seems to have peaked with this movie before moving to radio (he does have a good voice), and while his attitude is right, he doesn't look like a boxer. Katherine DeMille, the adopted daughter of Cecil B. DeMille and the future wife of Anthony Quinn, is good (and sexy) as the former love of Miljan, and West's chief rival.

Mae West's first vehicle following the enforcement of the Production Code emerges as a lesser comedy, despite the involvement of the renowned McCarey (who directed many a star comedian around this time, including various Laurel & Hardy shorts, Eddie Cantor, The Marx Bros., W.C. Fields and Harold Lloyd).

As ever, West wrote the script herself: having gone through the titles included in the R1 DVD collection not too long ago, this film can be seen to have adhered strictly to formula – so that, in spite of offering nothing new (all the men, be they naïve or unscrupulous, invariably throw themselves at the star's feet who, of course, plays a notorious chanteuse), the undercasting of the chief supporting players and the severely reduced trademark double entendres, it still gets by on the consummate professionalism on display (conveyed in Paramount's recognizable in-house style). Among the highlights here are a marathon boxing match, a typically soulful number by the underprivileged black community and the fiery climax.

The film's brief 70-minute running-time (in PAL mode) and unassuming plot line makes this ideal for late-night viewing; however, such rampant streamlining also leads to an overly abrupt denouement in which events are neatly tied up via a montage of newspaper clippings!