Becky Sharp

Miriam Hopkins delivers a great performance as a nonchalant woman who cheats her way through society before finding out that what goes around comes around, and of course she must find a way to redeem herself. The color in this film looks a lot better than most people of the day describes it as. And I think the guy who said the color looked like "boiled salmon dipped in mayonese" has had a little too much mayonese. Altogether, I highly recommend this film for anyone who can't seem to find a good movie to watch, because this is the one!

A lot of people tend to assume GONE WITH THE WIND or THE WIZARD OF OZ were the first color movies. Firstly, color film had been experimented with since the silent era, with a handful of features being made wholly in the old two-strip Technicolor process during the 1920s. Secondly, GONE WITH THE WIND and THE WIZARD OF OZ were merely early examples of the three-strip Technicolor process, but certainly not the first-- that honor goes to 1935's BECKY SHARP and to be honest, that's about all the honor the movie merits.

BECKY SHARP is an adaptation of the novel VANITY FAIR and while I have never read the book, this appears to be an extremely truncated retelling, jumping from plot point to plot point with little in the way of interesting characters to keep the viewer invested. Becky cons men into giving her money, behaves badly, spends too much, needs more money, cons men into giving her money, behaves badly, ad nauseum. There's little sense of character development there for any of the players involved, making the movie tiresome.

I love Miriam Hopkins, but I am shocked that anyone thinks this is her best performance: compared to her work in Rouben Mamoulian's DR. JEKYLL AND MR HYDE or in the haunting THE STORY OF TEMPLE DRAKE or in anything she did for Lubitsch, this is hammy, hammy work. Not that it isn't without its charms and humor (I love the scene where she turns on the waterworks to soften up her husband's hard-nosed spinster aunt), but Hopkins gets quite shrill at points, making her exhausting to watch.

Really, the saving grace is the Technicolor. The costumes and sets are quite gorgeous, which might explain the constant stagey-ness of the cinematography. Mamoulian's films of the early 1930s tended to be far more cinematic than their counterparts, less afraid of experimenting with camera movement and sound, but here, the blocking of the actors and the placement of the camera are very theatrical and stuffy, likely to show off the color of the sets. That might have been enough to astound an audience in 1935, but color in and of itself is less likely to impress anyone, even a classic film fan, these days.

Classic film nerds like me are really the only ones who will get anything out of BECKY SHARP. It's historically important and not without good moments, but it's hardly of the storytelling stature of the far better three-strip Technicolor movies which would follow it in the years to come.

BECKY SHARP, historically important as the first feature film in full, three-color TECHNICOLOR, has always fascinated me. It's history, however, is frustrating and disappointing. Made by Pioneer Pictures and released through RKO, BECKY SHARP was sold to a poverty row exhibitor (whose name escapes me at the moment)in the 1940's for re-release. The company chose not to pay the high prices that TECHNICOLOR charged for release prints and had new prints of the film struck in inferior two strip CINECOLOR. More damaging to the future of BECKY was that the company never properly stored the original nitrate negatives. BECKY SHARP was sold to TV only in a shortened B&W print or in CINECOLOR reissue prints.

Still, the idea of this elusive "lost" treasure haunted me. It was amongst the very first videocassettes that I ever purchased back in the early days of the VCR when I was but a lad (and YES, I got strange looks.) BECKY SHARP was one of those poor, orphaned films whose copyrights have expired and now live in the public domain. The quality of the video cassette and the color was astonishingly bad, and gave no hint of the pleasures the original TECHNICOLOR photography must have contained.

A sad story to be sure, but fortunately UCLA performed a massive restoration effort on the film in the late 1980's, literally scouring the world for available film elements. Unfortunately, the restored BECKY SHARP has never been commercially released in any format. It was shown during AMC's first Film Preservation Festival back in 1993, however, and luckily I recorded it to cherish for all time (or at least until the tape wears out.) It has never aired since.

The restored BECKY SHARP is a revelation!! The film starts with barely any color at all, then pleasant pastels are introduced, followed eventually by the striking red coats of the British military. Full of color and deliciously over-ripe tints, this was primarily an experiment to see how color plays out in a feature film. The cast and drama takes a back-seat to the real star of the show, glorious TECHNICOLOR. The film itself is somewhat plodding and overplayed, but a lot of fun, to be sure!!

I'm not sure what legal red tape is responsible for there being no commercial release of this beautiful restoration, but none has appeared and this is a shame.

Because of the overwhelming success of his novels, people still read Charles Dickens. If you poled people who like to read classic novels, you would find most people read Dickens, Emily and Charlotte Bronte, and Anthony Trollope most among the "high Victorian" novelists (those from 1830 - 1882). This cuts out a large number of fine novelists, like George Eliot, George Meredith, Elizabeth Gaskell, and Benjamin Disraeli (yes, the Prime Minister), or even William Wilkie Collins, the first great mystery/detective novelist. But the one that is particularly odd is William Makepeace Thackeray.

In his day (he was a prominent novelist from 1839 to 1863 when he died) Thackeray was actually the leading rival of Dickens as the leading novelist. Dickens was capable of a wider variety of social class types in his fiction, and could show wilder humor and greater tragedy in his novels. But Thackeray was more gifted at subtle characterization and clever social satire of the upper class. He was a member of that class, and knew what he was talking about when he wrote about them. George Orwell noted that when Dickens did an aristocrat in like Sir Mulberry Hawk in "Nicholas Nickleby", the resulting character was a type from Victorian melodrama, whereas Thackeray or Trollope made more realistic figures.

He also was willing to experiment in odd ways. Occasionally Dickens did too - he did first person narrative novels like "David Copperfield" and once did one with a female narrator "Bleak House". But in 1846 Thackeray wrote "Vanity Fair, A Novel Without A Hero". The title was a pun. The two leading characters, Rebecca (Becky) Sharp and Amelia Sedley, are women (so it suggests the novel has a "heroine"). But both women are quite faulty. Becky is a fortune hunter who won't let anyone or anything keep her from becoming rich. Amelia is a nice person. In fact, she is too nice. She has to go through an 800 page story before she stops being friendly to her school friend Becky, and only after Becky reveals what a bad person she has been to Amelia.

None of the characters in "Vanity Fair" is flawless. The closest to a hero in the story, William Dobbin, adores Amelia - but won't push himself as a suitor (he wants her to notice his adoration by herself). Becky vamps members of the Crawley family (where she is the family governess), and marries the second son, Rawdon, in expectation of a generous aunt's largesse to support them. But that fails to work out. So she tags along with Rawdon, accompanying him on the Waterloo campaign, and makes a play for George Osbourne (Amelia's selfish husband). Eventually she and Rawdon become social figures, "living well on nothing a year" (by cheating merchants of payments for their food, clothes, etc). She also becomes the mistress of the powerful Marquis of Steyne (pronounced "stain").

How the events of this novel without a hero end I leave to the reader to read the novel (the best way) or to see either this version by Rouben Mamoulian, the recent one with Reese Witherspoon, or a modern dress version from 1932 with Myrna Loy as Becky. Mamoulian's version reduces the story to 90 minutes of film, and so much is thrown out. In particular the antics of Amelia's cowardly, pompous brother Joseph Sedley (Nigel Bruce in Mamoulian's film). Hopkins does very well as Becky - garnering her best film performance. She is supported by Alan Mowbray as Rawdon, who may be raffish in some ways but gains our respect as he sees the woman he loves for what she is. Francis Dee is adequate (if not memorable) as Amelia. Cedric Hardwicke is sinister and powerful as Steyne. Allison Skipworth gives one a taste of the self-centered, pampered aunt of Rawdon, "Miss Crawley".

So what went right and wrong. It is a great novel (my opinion) but I admit this film leaves me cold. So much was cut out the film is just a synopsis of the main plot. But then, Thackeray's greatest strength as a satirist was as a subtle writer. Somehow subtlety on his printed page is not well translated onto the silver screen. On the other hand, Mamoulian did make great strides (in terms of elegant cinematography) with the then new three tone color film system. The best moment is at the scene of the great last ball given to Wellington's staff and men at Brussels in June 1815, which ends as a cannon blast in the distance is heard: the opening shot of Waterloo. The moment that the blast is heard a blast of air causes a red curtain to blow, looking like a wave of blood. Mamoulian was able to squeeze out of the process some idea of what to do with it. For that reason the film is worth seeing. But I urge the interested viewer to take the time to read Thackeray's novel.

I just had the pleasure of seeing the restored version of "Becky Sharp", and, like others who had taped this back in the bad old days of nearly monochromatic, public domain copies of this title, the improvement amounts to seeing an entirely different film. The use of color was striking and surprisingly well considered. As a writer, I found the dialogue delightfully rich in the manner of what were admittedly more sophisticated films of the 30's. Make no mistake, other than the admirable use of 3-strip Technicolor on its first feature film outing, this is no masterpiece--Mamoulian's name in the credits notwithstanding. But compared to today, with dialogue now largely dismissed as unnecessary to filmed "entertainment", it was brilliant. I could finally hear 90% of it, whereas in the old Cinecolor print, most of it was unintelligible. What pains me is that audiences seem unable (or unwilling) to enjoy dialogue that was meant to be listened to and appreciated on its own account. I heard nary a chuckle during any the witty ripostes of which Beck Sharp has its(and her) fair share of. A shame.