Sangue Vermelho

This is a tale of tragedy with a very old fashioned message - that the sad life of the protagonist Nasa Springer (Clara Bow) is part God's vengeance for the sins of the fathers, and part the result of her heritage, because Nasa is half Indian and thus has a savage nature. Cue eye rolls.

The film opens on a 19th century wagon train with the head of the wagon train, Silas Jennings, openly cheating on his wife and also getting violent with anybody who calls him on it. One man says that the Indian attack that the wagon train suffers and the resulting dead are God's judgment and talks about the sins of the father passing on to Silas' further generations. Next the film is in Texas, eighteen years later, and Silas' daughter Ruth has married her childhood sweetheart Pete. But Pete has no time for romance since he wants to get rich quite badly. Sad and neglected Ruth strikes up a friendship with a well educated and handsome Indian, Ronasa, and the two have an implied affair. The fruit of that affair is Nasa. (Didn't Pete think it strange that his wife basically named her after Ronasa? But I digress.)

So about 18 years later we meet grown Nasa (Clara Bow), fiery in both hair color and disposition. She gets into physical altercations, gets sent to a finishing school by her disapproving "dad" and manages to finish off a few of her classmates in fights in the process, rejects dad's choice for her marriage and weds a wastrel, and things just go downhill from there. At times she has money, at other times she doesn't, but she just can't stop being a wildcat.

The end is bittersweet, and the implication is that Bow will end up with "Moonglow" (Gilbert Roland) because the two are racially alike, NOT because all through the years, and the ups and downs, and through Nasa's bad treatment of him at times, this guy is the sweetest nicest person you could ever meet, has always been there for her, and is not bad on the eyeballs either.

Bow's acting is wonderful in this. Fox, at a time when it seemingly could do very little right (1930-1935), managed to make a true classic here, and a true precode, and they managed to do what Paramount never really could do - give Bow a really meaty talking picture role. Bow's outfits take great advantage of her figure, with bold shots of her cleavage and everything else she has above the waist There is plenty of infidelity and the resulting VD that occurs in one case, an attempted rape, prostitution, and a tragic fire. . And all of this from a studio that, at the time, was known for its homespun entertainment for rural folk. Gilbert Roland has a pretty small role, but he is absolutely charming. Thelma Todd is true to her nickname of "Hot Toddy" and almost unrecognizable with that short haircut, vying with Bow for the same men and matching Bow's character insult for insult and hair pull for hair pull when the two get into some very public altercations.

I'd strongly recommend this. It is great precode entertainment even with some of the maudlin melodrama and the muddled message.

Lurid-but-fascinating tale of wild half-breed Texas heiress has everything in it, including whippings, prostitution, extra-marital affairs, a neglected baby, and singing homosexuals. Pre-Code stunner boasts Clara Bow's great talkie comeback (after a bunch of so-so talkies) and she is WONDERFUL as well as Gorgeous. Playing Nasa Springer, Bow gets to whip a snake and Gilbert Roland, have a cat fight with Thelma Todd, beat Monroe Owsley senseless, smash a guitar over a servant's head, and run wild from Texas to Chicago to New York City. Clara Bow is great in this film. Too bad Bow made only one more film after this one (the underrated Hoopla).

Estelle Taylor, Weldon Hayburn, Russell Simpson, Fred Kohler, Dorothy Peterson, Margaret Livingston, Anthony Jowitt, and Mischa Auer co-star.

Great line as the father drives up and says "Why are you whipping that man?" Clara Bow answers, "I'm practicing in case I ever get married." Priceless!

Clara Bow gives one of the greatest performances of any actress of the early 1930s. She's a million miles away from the iconic flapper of the 20s which made her famous. In this masterpiece, she brings to life a role you'd expect to find someone like Barbara Stanwyck playing - astonishingly, Clara Bow is easily as good.

If Clara Bow conjures up the image of a good time girl, a saucy sexpot, Betty Boop or the epitome of The Jazz Age, then like me you will be blown away by this. Just how good an actress she is, is a complete revelation of Road to Damascus proportions. Sadly dealing with her own troubled life was more important to her than acting so despite some very lucrative offers from the big studios, she retired from acting shortly after making this. It was a sad loss to the industry because on the basis of this, you can imagine that if she'd carried on, she'd be remembered as someone like Bette Davis, Greta Garbo etc

As Hitchcock said, you can't make a good film unless you've got a good story and this is certainly a good story. It's heavily imbued with moral righteousness but it's thoroughly engrossing. In reality it's probably unlikely that so much bad fortune could befall one person but the brilliant way this is made makes this most melodramatic of all melodramas utterly believable.

Director John Francis Dillon is virtually unknown not just now but even back then. Unfortunately for cinema, he died young so never became famous which, from the evidence here, he was destined to be. This obviously big budget production isn't just magnificently directed, it's beautifully and imaginatively photographed as well. The guy behind the camera was one of the superstar cinematographers of the 30s, Lee Garmes so you know you're going to see something excellent if it's associated with him.

Perhaps what makes this story so relatable to a modern audience is that Clara Bow's character Nasa, seems so normal to us now. OK, she's got an uncontrollable temper but she's very much like any normal girl you'd find anywhere today. Her sense of independence, her crazy notion that a woman is not simply a possession of a man and that a woman can make her own decisions seemed outrageous in 1932: that was not just a different time but a whole different world.

What a film! Daring to tackle issues few films would even look at today. Stunningly photographed and directed, and with greater style than many early talkies. And at its heart is one of the best film performances ever - Clara Bow proves herself to be a magnificent actress in a role that demands she go through every possible emotion. What a loss it was to cinema when she retired, as great a loss as Garbo. Please MOMA get that restored print out on DVD, so that this great classic can be seen in all its glory!

It is sad that the demons in Clara Bow's life curtailed a career in talking motion pictures that would have seemed promising. She positively sizzles in Call Her Savage.

The film has Clara cast as one wild child Texas heiress, granddaughter of Willard Robertson and daughter of Estelle Taylor. Robertson has his hands filled with her and finally sends her off to school in Chicago.

After that the post flapper era men just flock to her. But Clara sets her sights on dissolute playboy Monroe Owsley, taking him away from Thelma Todd. Owsley is brutally frank about his male privilege telling Todd in no uncertain terms as he's allowed to stray because after all he pays the bills. The chick fight that Bow and Todd engage is one for the books, much better than Marlene Dietrich and Una Merkel in Destry Rides Again.

Clara's ride goes up and down from the wild child to the degradation of prostitution to back up on top again. Through it all the reason for her wildness is given in the explanation of her heritage. Her one true friend in the end is grandfather's faithful ranch hand Gilbert Roland and what they have in common.

I agree with another reviewer that the film is both sexist and racist and glories in it. It's also brutally frank and no wonder Joseph Breen and his crowd got such fits over films like Call Her Savage.

A great before the Code film and a sad reminder in what we lost when Clara Bow couldn't make more films like this.