Tempestade Num Copo D'Água

When a young reporter, Frank Burdon (Rex Harrison), is given an assignment to interview a rather nasty and self-important local politician, it turns out to be very unpleasant. Although Provost Gow (Cecil Parker)* wants to run for parliament, he does a horrible job of impressing the reporter. This is because during the interview, Gow and Burden are interrupted by a local woman (Sara Allgood) who is begging the Provost to help her. Instead of helping, Provost Gow is completely unsympathetic and cruel--and vows to have the old lady's dog put to sleep!! Burdon is horrified and angry--how dare this local political boss mistreat his constituents like this! So he does what any honest reporter would do--he publishes the truth! This is a serious problem, though, as the paper was backing the Provost AND the Provost wasn't about to back down. Another problem is that Burdon soon falls in love with the Provost's daughter (Vivian Leigh)--and this relationship is surely doomed! This is a delightful film--sort of like a droll and British version of a screwball comedy. The dialog is GREAT and Harrison is at his best. It also helped that Cecil Parker was WONDERFUL as the buffoon politician. All in all, a great little film.

*Speaking of Parker, he looked, sounded and acted almost exactly like David Horton (David Waldhorn). The likeness of the two characters is amazing.

Hidden from me, anyhow - I'd never heard of it until browsing through my local library's video collection. Imagine an Ealing comedy as directed by Frank Capra. All of the acting is first-rate (and Vivien Leigh, pre-"Gone with the Wind", was about as beautiful as any woman could be), and the sets are unusually lavish for what must have been a medium-budget film in its time. The characters are strong yet sufficiently complex to lift the story above the simplistic comic melodrama it might have been - I can't imagine many American films of the time (or of this time) that would allow the "villain" of the piece enough courage to face down and walk through a mob that has just publicly humiliated him and is ready to attack him. The comedy is wonderfully handled, especially during the scene in which a pack of dogs runs rampant through the villain's stately home, and during the climactic courtroom scene. (The film's funniest line makes sense only in the context of the film: Ursula Jeans' anguished "Harold, he called me a woman!") "Storm in a Teacup" is a genuine delight.

Flaws include too many cutaways for reaction, and a bit of obviousness in the plot, but those flaws are vastly out-numbered by the pleasures and joys of the total production.

As with other reviewers, I had never even heard of this movie and most of the players, so it was a surprise and delight to discover it.

I am always happy to see a motion picture present the evils of tyrannical government, even local government.

And the bullying of the chief government official, over what is to him such a minor, even trivial, matter shows just exactly what all of us, even 82 years after the release of this movie, and even thousands of miles from its setting, need to be aware of from even our neighborhood politicians and bureaucrats.

At the same time, the particular bully shows a lot of personal courage and is to be admired for it, and for his moral self-confidence.

However, as philosopher Sidney Hook warned us, and often unsuccessfully warned us, confidence in one's moral code is not good enough when that code is wrong; and courage to continue to believe in a wrong code is a dangerous courage.

As light-hearted as this production ultimately is, it is still both a lot of fun and a nice under-stated message. I highly recommend it, and there is a print available via Kanopy (for subscribers) and at YouTube.

This rarely-shown gem of a movie is a great early showcase for both Vivian Lee and Rex Harrison, before either became a famous star. It is also a prime example of a genre of movie that the British do very well and which Hollywood rarely ever touches: political satire. When Hollywood does try this sort of thing it us usually heavy-handed. Not so here. Everything is handled with a light touch, and it's all very "tongue-in-cheek".

Cecil Parker is the pompous and arrogant mayor of a small Scottish town, who is also running for a seat in Parliament (it's the sort of part in which Cecil Parker always excelled). While the mayor is busy being interviewed by a cub reporter on the local newspaper (Rex Harrison), the mayor hasn't time to be bothered with listening to the plea of an impoverished woman (the aptly-named Sara Allgood) whose dog had been impounded by the police for non-payment of it's license fee. Harrison decides to include the incident in his newspaper article, and events snowball from there.

"Storm in a Teacup" is exactly that, so don't expect "All the King's Men", "The Best Man", "Advise and Consent" or "Seven Days in May". However, it is very funny, and well worth a look if it should happen to come around again.

Widowed Mrs. Hegarty (Sara Allgood), ice cream peddler residing in a fictive West Scottish coast village, Baikie, has as sole companion her dog Patsy, but after she neglects to pay an annual canine licensing fee, the Provost (Mayor) of Baikie, William Gow (Cecil Parker) commands that the animal be dispatched, thereby inciting the titular tempest, for which a young English journalist is largely responsible. He is Frank Burdon (Rex Harrison), recently arrived in Baikie to begin employment with its newspaper. "The Advertiser", and it is Frank's willfulness that brings trouble upon himself as well as for others. In spite of romantic mutual attraction between Frank and Gow's daughter Victoria (Vivien Leigh), the dauntless reporter is well pleased to find a strong human interest slant within Mrs. Hegarty's plight and composes a story that immediately is spread throughout Scotland, therewith effectively putting an end to Gow's political ambitions, as he was preparing to stand for a parliamentary post, an aspiration that has apparently gone a-glimmering due to the Patsy affair, with the Provost moved to exact redress from Burdon by suing him for slander, an action that summons the probability of a final break between Frank and Vickie Gow. The film is constructed upon a play, "Storm Over Patsy", written in 1930 by German expatriate to the United States Bruno Frank, who settled in Hollywood as a screenwriter. It was rephrased for its exhibition upon the American stage by Glaswegian James Bridie and mounted with a good deal of success during 1936 and 1937 upon Broadway, the production generally featuring vocative Allgood in addition to Leo G. Carroll as Willie Gow. The provincial complexion of Baikie is more clearly rendered upon the screen than the boards, and fortunately Alexander Korda supplies adequate funding to furnish what he intends as a "small" film with significant numbers of extras along with a gaily embellished mise-en-scène. A contemporaneous review of the picture by producer/director/critic Basil Wright, published in The Spectator, expanded the amiable film's popularity, and it has retained a following because of its colourful scenes and characters, but a viewer will make note as well of superb costuming and, as must be expected, a superior performance by Parker who handily annexes the acting laurels here.