The Flirting Widow

Celia comes from a rich British family and her father has very peculiar and old fashioned ideas. He won't allow his second daughter to marry until his oldest, Celia (Dorothy Mackaill), marries. Well, Celia is a bit masculine in her style and doesn't appear to want to marry anyone. So instead she creates a fictional fiancé, Colonel John Smith of the British Army. She even writes a letter to this fictional man...and it somehow gets delivered to an actual Colonel John Smith (Basil Rathbone)! In the meantime, she creates a fake obituary and pretends that her beloved was killed. However, when the real Smith shows up, things get interesting!

Like any film from 1930, its style isn't as smooth or sophisticated as talking pictures from just a couple years later. Due to primitive recording equipment, the characters tend to stay in one general spot during most scenes (usually because there was a microphone hidden someplace nearby instead of the boom microphone in later films. And, they hadn't yet figured out how to include incidental music...so it seems a bit odd. You cannot hold these things against the film...it is a product of when it was made.

Overall, this is a cute film with a clever script. The only problem that when it was made it played well...and only a few years later, it would seem badly dated. Clearly, this film could be great if it were remade. As it is, it's clever and enjoyable for someone who appreciates early talkies...others might find it a bit stilted and flat. My score of 7 takes into account when it was made as well as its entertainment value today.

In (someone's) old custom, the eldest sister had to marry first. But this really held things up for the other sisters, who may have already found their desired mate. And younger Phyllis (flora bramley) has found her man, Bobby (anthony bushell). So they hatch a scheme to marry off Celia, the older sister (dorothy mckaill). But Celia has some tricks of her own up her sleeve. The picture quality is pretty rough, an everyone is wearing SO MUCH face makeup. The sound is fine... and of course, this film is almost 100 years old, so we're lucky to have it in any condition. When a military man (Basil Rathbone) arrives at the front door, a huge monkey wrench tossed into the works. Rathbone had been knocking around hollywood for ten years, but hadn't started playing Sherlock Holmes yet. The story is rather silly, some scenes just go on waaaaay too long. When the mother goes into hysterics, that scene just goes on forEVER. And when they talk about going out or leaving, it takes FOREVER to actually do it. So much blathering. Started with a good premise, but the story needed jazzing up. Directed by Bill Seiter. Novel by british author A. Mason, probably best known for Four Feathers. THAT one keeps getting remade, first as silent films, and several times as talking pictures.

Long-forgotten release from First National Pictures has a fairly hoary plot, but will surely be of interest to fans of sassy Dorothy Mackaill, real-life Ziegfeld Follies star who attained quite a following in the late 1920s. She has the lead here, playing a woman who invents a lover after her family pressures her to marry. Despite the presence of Dorothy (mercurial as ever) and co-star Basil Rathbone, there's not much excitement in this flimsy scenario. Film-historians and movie buffs of the Pre-Code Era might take a look. Still, the only funny line comes when a nerdy gentleman remarks to Mackaill, "You almost look like a man." She tells him, "So do you...almost." *1/2 from ****

...and he's quite dashing, a tall charmer of exquisite phrasing and mellifluous voice. Here he's a military man who, for complicated plot reasons, receives a love letter from a woman he never met. That's Dorothy MacKail, now utterly forgotten, but a quite popular and capable Follies beauty who starred in a number of early talkies. She's an heiress who has had to invent a fiancé so her younger sister can wed, and her total fabrication of a love letter has been delivered to Rathbone. It's a slightly stiff early-talkie drawing room comedy of scant surprise and pedestrian direction, by William A. Seiter, and has a not terribly interesting supporting cast; best is Emily Fitzroy, as a tippling aunt. But MacKail and Rathbone were always worth watching, and they do strike sparks as they spar and deceive one another. An OK hour and a half, and if it makes you hungry for more Dorothy MacKail, that's understandable.

Far-fetched but amusing drawing-room comedy about an elder daughter (Dorothy Mackaill) who fakes a marriage engagement in order for her younger sister to marry, thereby avoiding having to wear "green stockings" at her wedding. The tradition is that younger daughters may not marry unless their older sisters have.

But Mackaill is determined to stay free so she fakes a letter to her nonexistent fiancée that she just invented (Basil Rathbone), but it gets mailed by accident. After posting a phony obituary in the paper, who should show up at the country manor (after receiving the letter in Arabia) but the fake fiancée pretending to be a friend of the deceased.

Lots of cat and mouse games and verbal sparring between Mackaill and Rathbone makes this an amusing comedy. One character has the silly name of Raleigh Raleigh who gets introduced to Rathbone and says "I'm Raleigh Raleigh" to which Rathbone replies, "Really? Really?" In Mackaill's opening scenes she dressed in a sweater and tweed skirt, her hair slicked back in a mannish cut. Raleigh (the typical English silly ass character) says to her, "You know, in that outfit you almost look like a man." She turns, eyes him up and down and retorts,"You know, in that mustache you look like a man ... almost." British born Mackaill doesn't have an English accent in this film set in England, which is odd. But she's very good and astonishingly gorgeous. Rathbone is fun as the faux fiancée.

Emily Fitzroy is hilarious as boozy Aunt Ida (who's in on the charade). Others include Leila Hyams as Evelyn, Flora Bramley as Phyllis, Claude Gillingwater as the father, Anthony Bushell as Bobby, William Austin as Raleigh, and Wilfred Noy as the butler.

There's an odd moment of censorship in a scene where Rathbone is putting a watch on a chain around Mackaill's neck. It slips into her cleavage. Rathbone leers as he watches her try to fish out the watch. He's says something that is blanked out, but Mackaill turns and responds sharply to whatever he says.

Certainly worth a look to see wonderful Dorothy Mackaill in her early talkie period.