Something Always Happens

This is a truly delightful early Michael Powell film, crisply directed and edited, with excellent cinematography, and it is extraordinary that an early British film of such quality is so little known. There is a striking performance by child actor John Singer, aged 11, as a runaway orphan who is taken up by Ian Hunter, a gent down on his luck and penniless because of his compulsive gambling. The two move in together (no, paedophilia did not yet exist!) and together charm and wheedle their way to a landlady's heart (played with alternate fierceness and charm by Muriel George), so that they get the room for free until their ship comes in, plus huge breakfasts because she loves children. Ian Hunter is excellent as the lead, and one forgives him instantly for his foibles because he is no nice. Meanwhile he meets Nancy O'Neill, who is excellent with her tongue-in-cheek masquerade as a poor girl, whereas she is really the daughter of a business magnate. She urges Hunter to apply to her father for a job, not revealing who she is, but Hunter ends up becoming the competition. If only business success were that easy! But oh well, this is the movies. Peter Gawthorne is amusing as the intimidating papa, exasperated one moment and melting the next. Needless to say, this is one of those films where everything goes well and hardships are overcome, though there is a bizarre shift in plot emphasis from the boy to the girl, and it does seem as if two stories were stuck together rather unconvincingly. But never mind, it is all a delight and so well done that we just enjoy every minute of it.

What an absolutely delightful find! According to Robert Osborne of TCM, these "quota quickies" were made by Warner Brothers at their Teddington Studios in England in order to comply with a British law requiring that a certain percentage of films shown there be domestic products. It's the story of an upper-class, but broke, ne'er-do-well (Ian Hunter) who hooks up with a street urchin (John Singer). The chemistry between the two is marvelous, and they are supported by a fine cast, including Nancy O'Neil as the love interest, Peter Gawthorne as her father and Muriel George as the landlady. The film is fast-paced and replete with snappy dialog. It's charming, funny and touching.

It's always interesting to experience the work of an artist before he really comes into his own, and so this little gem from director Michael Powell is a welcome addition to our knowledge of the man's genius. He has a boldness of vision, a sureness of hand, and an audacity far ahead of its time. Particularly telling are the way he cuts from one thread of the story to another. Not a single scene is one frame too long. Notice how, at the end, the scene of the butler closing the door as he just begins his knowing smile is suddenly interrupted by the final scene of the boy on the phone. A director with less moxie might be inclined to hold that butler scene a little longer so the audience can get all warm and sentimental, but not Powell. He knows he's got us where he wants us, and it's time to move on. A better story (hey, where'd that nice landlady go?) and a bit better acting (by which I mean, less American style acting) could possibly have garnered a few more stars, but it isn't important for a "quota quickie." I enjoyed it simply for what it was -- a lark.

Without going into plot summaries I will stick to three main points: 1) I agree with all the nice things said by the other reviewers. If this is a "quota quickie" then bring on more! 2) You will not find another film where you get a peek under the bonnet of a 1934 Bentley, and with sound. 3) The best reason to watch this is Miss Nancy O'Neil. A total delight, wish she had made more films. At first I pondered about why the Brothers Warner did not bring her to Hollywood for a better career. But hey, the U.S.of A. had already "borrowed" Lilian Bond, Wendy Barrie, Margot Grahame, Benita Hume, Binnie Barnes, Diana Wynyard, Edna Best, Madeleine Carroll, Valerie Hobson, Elizabeth Allan, and others. Tough competition and perhaps Miss Nancy did not need the drama.

I call this a relic not because it is old. Oh no: Old movies are my thing. Nor because it has been essentially unknown in the United States until now, though that is interesting.

It's because the mores have changed distinctly in 73 years. This relates to the little boy we first see in the film. He is a street orphan and is touchingly written, acted -- and directed, though what else would one expect from the great Michael Powell? Ian Hunter, quite charming as a loafer from a higher class, finds him on the street. He is down on his luck too; so he takes the boy under his wing. The first thing that would not pass muster with censors and/or would upset some viewers today is that he rents a room and has this child share it with him. Oh my! What a scandal that would create! And in addition, he makes pajamas for the child from the softhearted landlady's rug.

Then, when things look up, he seems to have hired the child to work for the car company where he's wangled a job. (The film is primarily about his romance with the daughter of an auto magnate and his change in fortune.) The boy wears a uniform, no less! Child labor laws would make such employment for a little boy unacceptable.

The acting is excellent throughout. The young woman, the boy, the landlady -- all are good. And Hunter shows himself a much more interesting actor than his roles in Kay Francis vehicles a few years hence would have suggested.