Manequim

I hate to be a spoil sport, but I must disagree with the other reviewers who are un-restrained in their enthusiasm for the only Joan Crawford/Spencer Tracy co-starring vehicle. The movie often feels as though it had been re-heated and, while it has many admirable moments, just as many ring false. Crawford herself remains remote and aloof for much of the running time and, while Spencer Tracy probably couldn't give a false performance if he tried, his heart doesn't seem to be in it either.

The early scenes, in which Joan plays a poor, restless girl who lives in a tenement with her ne'er do well father and brother, as well as with her overworked, tired mother are so stilted and obvious they are an embarrassment. These scenes play almost like parodies of the previous Crawford vehicles POSSESSED (1931), DANCING LADY (1933) and SADIE McKEE (1934). Crawford has played this "noble girl whose ambitions will lift her out of her miserable station in life" part before, and she has played it better. Here she seems tired, like she's not even believing it herself and, although it may sound un-gallant to mention, she's a little long in the tooth to play this type of role convincingly (God forgive me).

Things brighten considerably when Tracy and Crawford begin to spark and it is the middle section of the movie that is the most enjoyable. A lot of this may stem from the fact that the middle section contains the least amount of screen time for Alan Curtis, who plays Joan's "so bad he's hissable" louse of a husband. Curtis is so one dimensional and so "obviously" rotten that you wonder what Crawford's character could EVER have seen in him.

Complaints aside, there are good and memorable moments to be found in MANNEQUIN. When Tracy and Crawford are alone on-screen, they both seem to be off of their game, but together, they have a haunting chemistry that transcends explanation. They both manage to convey that they truly understand and accept what the other is thinking, a rarity in film. It makes MANNEQUIN all the more frustrating when we get glimpses of what made these two the magnificent stars they were. It disappoints me that they never worked together again in a project more worthy of their combined talents.

Standing in dramatic counterpoint to Crawford's 1938 "box office poison" label, MANNEQUIN was a big hit with audiences early that year. Other, more ambitious (and in my opinion, more interesting) Crawford vehicles such as THE BRIDE WORE RED (1937) and THE SHINING HOUR (1938), however, were not.

JOAN CRAWFORD plays a tenement girl with a Park Avenue accent no matter how much she has to sweat in a factory for a living. She hates her tenement environment so much that she's willing to run off with boyfriend ALAN CURTIS at the drop of a hat. Of course, what seemed like a good idea changes drastically once she meets wealthy SPENCER TRACY and realizes what her life could be as "a lady". LEO GORCEY is a howl as her nasty kid brother.

That's the main thrust of MANNEQUIN--a sort of "money can't buy happiness" theme that is played out in typical '30s style with Joan Crawford giving her fans a rags to riches story tailored to please depression weary audiences. Despite the fact that Crawford seems too cultured to be playing a girl from the city flats, she's convincing enough as the newly married woman who croons a song to Curtis on the dance floor, a little something called "Always and Always". Curtis has the role of a thankless heel and plays it to the hilt.

Tracy is so enamored with "the awfully sweet kid" that you know the Curtis/Crawford marriage is headed for the rocks. Thanks to the natural performances of Tracy and Crawford, it all works better than it sounds on paper--due also to Frank Borzage's fine direction and ELIZABETH RISDON's performance as Crawford's hard-working mother who doesn't want her daughter to give up her dream.

Whether slumming or enjoying the posh life among the idle rich, Crawford never loses her poise and gets to toss off some smart lines. No matter how poor she's supposed to be, her clothes never look like they came off thrift shop racks. She photographs attractively with a softer look than her later image would have, so this is a real treat for Crawford fans. Especially when she becomes a "mannequin" at a posh fashion show, attired in some of Adrian's most outrageous gowns.

The good chemistry with SPENCER TRACY helps a lot. "It all started when you slugged me," says Tracy, proposing marriage to her. Will she or won't she find true happiness with a rich man? Hint: It ends with another slug.

Summing up: Fun for true Crawford fans, but others may find it's all a little too artificial for comfort.

The main interest points in seeing 'Mannequin' were that it was directed by Frank Borzage, a director who deserved and still does deserve more credit, and the great cast, with Joan Crawford and Spencer Tracy in their only collaboration together. That is perhaps the film's biggest draw, that they were great on their own is reason enough to see anything of theirs but seeing them together in a rare pairing is even more so.

With those things taken into account, 'Mannequin' had all the makings to be a charming film. Which it on the most part is. Not perfect or great, and Crawford, Tracy and Borzage have all done better, but 'Mannequin' is a nice undemanding film that doesn't feel too simplistic or too challenging and doesn't try to do or be more than necessary. While not a must see 'Mannequin' does have more than enough to warrant more exposure.

'Mannequin' may have corny and melodramatic parts and moments that don't quite ring true, do not expect reality here and that is including the ending (which admittedly does also strike a chord emotionally). A few of the early scenes are a bit static.

Alan Curtis does his best bringing smarmy charm to his role, but the character is too one-dimensional unpleasant for the charm to properly convince.

However, 'Mannequin' is beautifully filmed, clearly loving Crawford (looking radiantly photogenic) and those costumes are to die for. While not one that will stay long in the memory, the score fits and complements the film well and doesn't feel like it should have belonged somewhere else. The script has wit and emotion, much of the film is far from dull once it gets going and the story has a lovely poignancy and intimacy (the dance floor scene is a lovely moment and interesting from an interaction stand-point, pointed out already) on the most part,

Borzage directs with his usual sensitivity and he definitely seems at home here. What makes 'Mannequin' especially worth watching is the cast. Whether Crawford is believable as a young working class girl is debatable, but that doesn't matter when she gives a performance so charming and deeply felt. Tracy underplays sympathetically and more than appealingly, they make a lovely pairing. Shrewd Leo Gorcey and movingly sincere Elizabeth Risdon are particularly good in support.

On the whole, nice pretty good film. 7/10 Bethany Cox

When TCM ran this flick recently, the host observed that Crawford, while not exactly thrilled about sharing the spotlight with Tracy, did take care to scale her performance down so that her usual overplaying wouldn't look wildly out of place. She's still false -- all eyebrows and key lighting -- but she does have star quality, and she's playing a very appealing, practical rags-to-riches lady. Tracy brought his usual sincerity to another appealing role, and Borzage brought his characteristic lyricism -- the whole movie seems quiet and understated, not at all tainted by the typical MGM frou-frou. The dialogue has snap, the plot has pace, and there are unusual touches: Note the scene in the subway car, and how charmingly and inconclusively it ends. Maybe this was considered standard MGM claptrap in its day, but it holds up remarkably well and somehow feels modern. The issues haven't really dated. Maybe today's Joan Crawford, Julia Roberts, could do a remake?

This is a modest film, beautifully proportioned and modulated, that manages to draw the viewer into its romantic world. It easily could have become maudlin, or stridently melodramatic, or overblown. Joan Crawford could have overacted, or Spencer Tracy could have turned smug. But the film is amazingly free of false notes. This is not a film to be seen for camp , but for its very real charm. Director Frank Borzage succeeds in creating a world that is feels completely consistent and free of cliche. Take for example, the scene in which the heroine is on the dance floor with her new husband, singing "their song"--easily a cliched moment. But while she croons, the husband is tense, alert, observant, distant. Or look at the scene where Tracy meets with his striking workers, and faces the loss of his business and fortune. The scene unfolds with a quiet dignity and depth of feeling on both sides of the conflict. Again and again, Borzage balances romance with realism, pathos with stillness, emotion with dignity. As a result, Mannequin is a deftly made film that moves along lyrically, making what could have been preposterous, touching.