Duas Almas se Encontram

Censors had a profound influence in shaping movies during the Golden Age of Hollywood. No better example was Samuel Goldwyn's October 1935 "Barbary Coast." Joseph Breen, chief censor for the Production Code Administration (PCA), hated unredeemable characters in movies that made them out as heroes. When he received Goldwyn's initial script for the Howard Hawks-directed film, Breen rolled his eyes and described it as "one of sordidness, and low-tone morality." The adapted screenplay from Herbert Asbury's 1933's 'Barbary Coast: An Informal History of the San Francisco Underworld,' was about the city's red light district in the 1850. A film industry trade magazine writer familiar with Asbury's book concurred with Breen, calling it "one of the filthiest, vilest and most degrading books that have ever been chosen for the screen."

Goldwyn hired several writers to assist Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur in delivering a screenplay the PCA would pass. Several rewrites sanitized the pair's first script, upsetting Hecht to the point he described it as "Miriam Hopkins (Mary Rutledge in the movie) came to the Barbary Coast and wandered around like a confused Goldwyn girl." Finally, after several months of going back and forth, changing "Barbary Coast" into a romance, Breen beamed to his boss Will Hays the script contains a "fine, clean girl," where there's no mention of "unpleasant details of prostitution." He described the screenplay "now has a full, and completely compensating, value, the finest and most intelligent picture I have seen in many months."

After viewing the final product, some contemporary critics saw just the opposite, with Time Magazine writing the movie was "painfully uninspired," while Newsweek said the plot in the original book was thrown away. Modern day reviewer Stacia Jones agrees "Barbary Coast" would have been a far different, and better, film if it had been made during the Pre-Code era, but "despite some general flakiness and the unmistakable hint of changes made to appease moralists, the script is pretty solid."

"Barbary Coast" is also known for the outrageous behavior Hopkins displayed to her leading man Edward G. Robinson on the set. Miss Rutledge (Hopkins) journeys to San Francisco to marry a rich gold miner she knows. Trouble is, he lost all his money to a casino owned by Louis Chamalis (Robinson) and commits suicide. The resigned Rutledge eventually works at the casino's crooked roulette wheel, where Chamalis falls for her. Robinson described working with Hopkins 'a horror." He claimed she was always late, keeping the film crew waiting, she repeatedly tried to upstage the other actors, and she was constantly haughty. Hopkins didn't read her lines as any actress should when Robinson's close-ups were filmed; she had a script girl stand in for her to read them while Edward always read his lines to her. For one scene, Robinson wanted to rehearse where he had to slap her in the face so he wouldn't actually hit her. She refused, demanding they just shoot it once with him really slapping her and then be done with it. Robinson wrote in his memoirs, "I slapped her so you could hear it all over the set. And the cast and crew burst into applause," apparently tired of Hopkins' behavior. The actress had to pick herself up from the floor, so hard was Robinson's slap.

Initially Walter Brennan, whose acting career saw him in brief roles, was given yet another short part in "Barbary Coast" as Old Atrocity, a regular presence in the district's saloons. Hawks loved Brennan's acting so much the director expanded his lines in several scenes where the actor's trademark excitability is on full display. The movie turned out to be his first significant role after ten years slogging in numerous Hollywood films. He began to get larger parts after the movie's release. "That really set me up," claimed Brennan, the winner of three Academy Awards, and is tied with Jack Nicholson and Daniel Day-Lewis for the most Oscars for an actor.

During the gold rush, Robinson runs San Francisco like a mafia boss. Enter Hopkins as a gold-digging young lady, who apparently is just about the only white woman in the whole city, given how the men react to her. The familiar cast also includes McCrea as an earnest young prospector, Donlevy as Robinson's hatchet man, and Brennan as an old guy named "Old Atrocity." Entertaining film has a decent story but is marred by acting that is either wooden or melodramatic, with Hopkins particularly guilty of the latter. It's fun watching Robinson play the heavy. Hawks does a nice job of evoking foggy San Francisco of a bygone era.

Barbary Coast (1935)

*** 1/2 (out of 4)

Masterful acting highlight this overlooked gem that features just about everything you'd want out of a classic from the Golden Era of movies. Miriam Hopkins plays a poor girl from New York who travels to San Francisco to marry a man she's never met but once she arrives she learns that he has been murdered. Since she didn't love him, she decides to team up with the man responsible for his death, a ruthless casino owner (Edward G. Robinson) who wants to keep the town under his rule. Soon the woman begins to have second thoughts after meeting young man (Joel McCrea) from her old hometown. Hawks has a big following today and many consider him one of the greatest director's of all time but I'm really not sure I'd join such high praise. I did find it rather strange that when people mention his work this title is often left out, which is too bad because I found this to be one of the most entertaining of his career even though he did take the picture over from William Wyler. Some have called this LITTLE CAESAR set during the gold rush and that might be a fair saying but you could also mix in another Robinson picture, THE HATCHET MAN. This film here is pulp entertainment from start to finish as we have three legends really giving it their all in a pretty good story that contains romance, action, drama, comedy and one masterfully directed sequence. This sequence takes place as a vigilante group is holding a trial while walking through some mud. The sound effects used here and the constant editing down towards the mud is priceless and will certainly remain in the viewers mind long after the film ends. Robinson dives head first into his role and really delivers one of the finest performances of his career. His scenes where the character goes mad or better yet, love struck, are priceless and really pack a nice little punch as he goes off the deep end. The evilness Robinson brings to the role was not only creepy but it added to the entertainment value just because it will also put a smile on your face. Hopkins is also terrific and manages to deliver a full performance full of all sorts of emotions. Her character goes through various stages and the actress captures all of them perfectly. Her and Robinson have wonderful chemistry and I was shocked to learn after the movie that the two hated working with one another on this film. McCrea is also terrific and plays the naive and soft-spoken character wonderfully. The supporting cast features the wonderful Walter Brennan, Frank Craven, Brian Donlevy, Harry Carey and Donald Meek. The film's biggest problem is the ending, which really felt added on but I haven't been able to find anywhere that it was forced by the studio. Why this film isn't better known is beyond me but there's enough packed in here for two movies so hopefully more people will check it out.

In 1848 the Treaty of Guadaloupe Hidalgo ended the Mexican - American War, with the secession of territory from Mexico to the U.S. of most of the current southwestern U.S. (California, Arizona, New Mexico, any claims to Texas - as well as parts of Colorado, Utah, and Nevada). This was a war of conquest by the U.S., but to assuage American consciences fifteen million dollars was paid to Mexico for this territory. Only a subsequent bit of southern Arizona and New Mexico (known as the "Gadsden Purchase") was made as an addition in 1853 by the Pierce Administration, giving us the current southwestern border.

While the territory of Northern California (as opposed to the territory of Baja or Southern California - still part of Mexico) had always been a bit too far from Mexico City for proper control over local government, the change to Washington, D.C. - more than twice the distance and across a continent - further seemed to weaken national control of the territory. Moreover the population, being mostly Latino, was hostile to the non-Latino U.S. Government. It is in the next few years that California's so-called answer to Robin Hood, Joachin Murrieta, is continuing the Mexican War by his guerrilla/bandit attacks.

Under normal circumstances, it would have taken a generation for the U.S. to be really bothered by this. But in 1849 gold was discovered in California, and the world rushed in. Suddenly the territory had nearly one million population within a year, and demanded statehood. This would lead to the controversy about admitting California to the Union as an free state, and unbalancing the balance of the U.S. Senate. This in turn led to the Compromise of 1850 which enabled California to enter the Union as a free state, but guaranteed a fugitive slave act as a sop to the South. It put off the Civil War (or ignited the path to the Civil War) ten years later.

But for a big state, with wealth and population and size, California had a bad reputation. The towns of San Francisco and Los Angeles boomed in population - in particular San Francisco with it's immense harbor. But their governments were pitifully unable to maintain public order. Fires (arson caused) were frequent. So were killings, usually tied to robberies of the prospectors with more gold than sense. Judges and police were frequently paid off by gamblers and crime gang leaders. Finally, in 1851, the better elements of San Francisco put their foot down and formed a vigilante committee. They arrested several dubious characters, held stream-lined trials (where many legal niceties were ditched) and if the parties were found guilty (which usually happened) they were hanged in public. It sort of calmed things down, but then the continued prosperity of the state caused the same problems to reappear. In 1856 two incidents reignited the Vigilante Committee. First a local outspoken newspaper editor, James King of William, was shot and killed by a corrupt local political alderman named James Carey. Then a gambler named Charles Cora shot and killed a police official. Both men were arrested, given the drum-head trial, convicted, and hanged. The Vigilantes retained control of San Francisco for the rest of the next year before disbanding. They never had to make a third appearance.

Were they real heroes or a lynch mob? It still is debated. James King of William was right about the corruption and crime, but he was a "Nativist", and his attacks were also against Catholics, such as Carey (an Irish American) and Cora (an Italian American). Many of his fellows were also Protestants, and some may have had pecuniary interests in attacking the businesses controlled by the Catholics. So the real situation is not black and white, like this film suggests.

Edward G. Robinson's Luis Chamalis was based on Charles Cora, although the triangle with Miriam Hopkins and Joel McCrae is from whole cloth. Col. Marcus Cobb (Frank Craven) is based on James King of William (although King of William was never reduced to such stunning superficiality as Cobb is for nearly a year). Robinson's grip on the whole of San Francisco is fictitious (Cora never had that much power). The leadership of the Vigilantes (Harry Carey) reflect the moral center of the Vigilantes movement that was unquestioned in American History books of the 1935.

It is a good film, with fine performances by Robinson, Hopkins, Craven, Brian Donleavy (who's physical appearance makes him look like the corrupt contemporary Mayor of New York City, Fernando Wood), and Brennan. McCrae is sturdy and acts well, but his role seems terribly naive. It is fun trying to locate David Niven as a drunken cockney sailor tossed out of Robinson's saloon (he recalled it fondly in THE MOON'S A BALLOON). Robinson's recollections of the film were downers in ALL MY YESTERDAYS: he had political disputes about the on-coming World War II with isolationists Hopkins, Carey, Craven, Brennan, McCrae, and director Hawks. Hopkins kept trying to upstage him and the others, until he let her have it before the cast and crew (who applauded him for it). He also felt the end was a let down. Quietly told by Carey and his associates it is time to accompany them to his neck stretching party, he quietly joins them, as though they have come to take him to deliver a political speech! Still the film merits an "8" out of "10".

I love the story about Sam Goldwyn who said that he bought the rights to the title, Barbary Coast, and then said to the writers hired to write a story with that title.

They gave him a story that made a pretty good picture. Edward G. Robinson is at his snarling best as a nineteenth century version of Little Caesar on San Francisco's Barbary Coast during the gold rush days.

Basically Miriam Hopkins has come to San Francisco to marry a newly minted millionaire whom she barely knows, but finds he's dead and fortune gone on her arrival. Since there was no real love involved, she doesn't have a problem teaming up with the man who probably had her fiancé robbed and killed, that being Edward G. Robinson.

It's a pretty lawless place San Francisco. It's been newly acquired by the USA in the Mexican War and it being one of the great natural harbors of the world, a perfect arrival point for people traveling by sea to the gold fields. And such law that's operating is pretty much operating for the town bosses. There is a scene where after Brian Donlevy, who's Robinson's chief henchman, kills a man a trial is held right in Robinson's gambling palace. It's an impromptu affair with a crooked judge who naturally finds Donlevy not guilty.

It's no wonder that certain citizens form a vigilante committee to restore some kind of justice to San Francisco. All part of the colorful history of that place. And that part of the film is well done.

Where Barbary Coast fails is in the romance department. Miriam Hopkins though a woman of conscience has a practical side to her. The weakness of the film is in Joel McCrea's performance. He's a prospector who having made his fortune wants to return home. He has a chance encounter with Hopkins and she takes a shine to him and McCrea doesn't know she's Robinson's main squeeze.

Now I'm a big fan of Joel McCrea, the most virtuous of heroes Hollywood ever produced. But in this one, he's not really virtuous as much as he's an idiot. Let's just say that I cannot understand why Hopkins wants anything to do with him. A much stronger character might have believably taken her from Robinson, but not McCrea in this film.

Barbary Coast was responsible for the first real notices of two prominent character actors. Walter Brennan had been knocking around for years, but he received his first real attention as a player as waterfront character Old Atrocity. And with minimal dialog, Brian Donlevy made his first real impression on film audiences as Robinson's strong arm killer.

It's entertaining, but I'd mute the sound when Barbary Coast turns away from the action.