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.

Enjoyable adventure is filmed at a lively clip and delivers a fine entertainment. A bit heavy on the ham in a couple of places but entertaining nonetheless. Edward G.Robinson is fine as always although he should have rethought the earring. He is full of brio and shows his versatility but his costume does him no favors. He and Miriam are a fine pair even though he despised her offscreen. A good actress if a bit dithery she managed to destroy her starring career with cheap tricks and constant attempts to upstage her co-stars. The story goes that Edward G. became fed up with it and when the script called for him to strike her he was so frustrated with her shenanigans that he didn't pull the slap and sent her flying to the applause of the assembled crew.

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".

Walter Brennan plays "Old Atrocity," and he brings a lot of comedy to this lively drama doing his signature old codger (never mind he was 41 at the time). Also fun, of course, is the MacArthur/Hecht screenplay, which actually manages to capture the outlaw feeling of Gold Rush days at the Golden Gate. Moody lighting and foggy sets help.

But I enjoyed "Barbara Coast" for something else entirely: the pairing of Edward G. Robinson and Joel McRea. Both are among the most attractive film actors of all time - but for reasons as different as they are.

Short (5'5"), dark, raised in Bucharest and New York City, Edward G. (for Goldenberg) Robinson looks nothing like a matinée idol. Nevertheless, he didn't just star in films, he commanded the screen, even when his co-star was Bogart or Sinatra. He mastered as wide a variety of roles as anyone, ever. Famous for violent gangsters ("Little Caesar"), but he was every bit as good as a tragic lead ("Bullets for Ballots") or a comic lead ("Larceny, Inc."); a villain ("Key Largo"), a dupe ("Scarlett Street"), a hero ("Night has a Thousand Eyes"); a historic figure (Dr. Paul Ehrlich); and finally character actor ("Double Indemnity"). The list is almost endless-- except for musicals-- because his career spanned seven decades.

I'll watch Robinson in anything.

Tall (6'3"), blond and blue-eyed, born in Southern California, Joel McRea is as gorgeous a man as ever faced a camera-but he had very little range. He could affect a few things-- steely determination, boyish charm, and thoughtful confusion were comfort zones-- but his face almost never changed except to smile a bit from time to time. Never mind; he was a precursor to very, very long list of pretty boys who became competent actors, from Valentino through Errol Flynn and Steve McQueen to Brad Pitt.

I'll watch McRea in anything, too.

When a woman arrives in San Francisco during the height of the Klondike gold rush to find her mail-order fiancé dead she takes up with a shady - and jealous - casino owner before falling for an honest prospector. Although he sports an ear-ring and walks around like he's waiting for the rest of his pirate fancy-dress costume to turn up, Edward G. Robinson pretty much just does his usual gangster routine in Barbary Coast. Not that there's anything wrong with that: his controlling mob boss Louis Chamalis, is actually given a pleasingly sly sense of humour and depth of character, and is also given the opportunity to go out with some class when he meets his inevitable fate. Director Howard Hawks creates a wonderfully evocative portrait of a muddy, fog-bound San Francisco filled with morally compromised larger-than-life characters. Recommended.