Vivre sa vie

The worst thing about this film is the title! I often feel the title can make or break a film, and if this was named something a little less clunky and serious, it probably would get more respect and be a classic comedy. This is not a "great" movie, but that doesn't lessen the entertainment factor, which is, often enough, the reason we watch a film more than once. I have no problem with either Joan Crawford or Brian Aherne in the leads. They are both charming and lend the perfect role of sarcastic flirtatiousness called for. If one needs a serious theme to enjoy a film, there is a peripheral theme of class-consciousness. One of the film's highlights is the chemistry between Crawford and Frank Morgan, who plays her father; that's precious stuff. It's easy to praise Arthur Treacher, Jessie Ralph and Eric Blore. But how about Sterling Holloway in a small but memorable role as Aherne's assistant at the archaeological dig? Aline MacMahon, Frank Conroy, all these character actors insure the acting level is high throughout. My only regret is that Granville Bates, the yacht captain, didn't have a more substantial role. From what I've seen of him in My Favorite Wife, I'd say he was brilliant, too. I love these glossy black-and-white early '30s MGM films.

Joan Crawford gets a change from being a taxi dancer or a shop girl and is a full fledged heiress in I Live My Life. She's living it pretty good too, far better than most in her Depression era audience were. She's on a nice holiday in Europe and comes upon an archaeological dig in Greece. A rare statue is unearthed, but the debonair Irish archaeologist doing the digging played by Brian Aherne interests Ms. Crawford far more.

Our heiress is quite the flirt, movie heiresses back then always were, but she sure hooks Aherne. The problem is she's already engaged to the wealthy and snooty Fred Keating back in New York. And she may have to marry him. Her dad is Frank Morgan and he's got a few bucks, but the real money is with her tyrannical grandma Jessie Ralph. There's reason personal and financial to marry Keating. And as the popular song of the day went, all Aherne has to give is love. And Keating is such a drip.

Although Crawford is one sly little minx in this film, Aherne's charm and sincerity really get to her. In fact they got to me as he gives the film's best performance. Frank Morgan is always good and he's his usual befuddled self. He actually married into the money, Joan's mother is deceased and he lives to a lesser degree on the largess of his mother-in-law.

I wish Aline McMahon and Sterling Holloway as Aherne's assistants had more to do in I Live My Life. They always add to any film they're in.

I Live My Life is not one of Joan's better films, but entertaining enough. The question is will Aherne live Joan's life or will Joan start living Aherne's? Back then there was only one way to go.

I Live My Life starts out as a simple story: boy meets girl, boy falls for girl, girl runs away, boy pursues girl. But the boy is an Irish archaeologist who is not afraid to get his hands dirty and who spurns "people with too much money". The girl comes from a wealthy New York/Connecticut family that cowers in the presence of the grandmother who controls the family fortune and, therefore, their lives.

During the film, the characters tell a series of lies. In the beginning, these are frivolous lies told with no concern for the feelings of others. By the end of the film, they lie for love.

I am not a huge fan of Joan Crawford, who plays the wealthy and frivolous girl, Kay Bentley. But in some of her early films she displays a great energy. I Live My Life is one of those films. On occasion, she even displays emotional subtlety.

Brian Aherne plays the boy. He is, in turns, ebullient and downcast as his character (Terry O'Neill) is buffeted by the fickle winds of Kate's affections.

The cast includes memorable performances all around, especially by Eric Blore as the Bentley butler.

The gowns and other wardrobe that were fashioned by Adrian deserve mention. Others have been critical of his efforts in this film, but I found them immensely enjoyable. Even when they are impractical, they accentuate the frivolous nature of the rich who inhabit this film. They are bold statements that sometimes transcend practicality and embrace art.

The film itself is not a masterpiece, but it satisfies

TCM, the old movies channel tends to give us the best of the old school movie stars but at times I think they show too much of them in dispensation of the movies of lesser known stars who have better movies, idest this Joan Crawford movie which is only being shown because it's a Joan Crawford movie. Trash is trash no matter the star. Crawford is a rich spoiled lass. Brian Aherne has one of those archaelogical jobs with a name nobody can remember or pronounce without sounding either ulta-intelligent or extremely foolish. Their love will not work because of the class differences. Will it? Have you heard of schizrophenic movie?, that movie that cannot decide what it wants to be, a comedy or a drama and as a joan of all movies, it tries many but masters none. It's funny for 10 minutes, then suddenly comedic with people changing attitudes and tone unconvincingly, especially at the matriarch's house. Ending seems rushed and even Joan falls short in this one. Obviously an A-production with the usually sharp craftsman Woody Van Dyke behind the camera, the whole buffoonery is a poor disappointment.

There are three major things wrong with this movie: Joan Crawford, playing a role that should have gone to Carole Lombard; and the script, which they must have been writing as they were shooting, and the direction -- you can almost pinpoint the moments when the director must have been screaming "More energy, I want more energy up there!" Joan and Brian Aherne meet cute at an archaelogical dig in Greece, then fall in love (Joan has to lie about her wealthy background), part, Brian travels from Greece to marry her, and then they go back and forth and back and forth -- we love each other, we don't love each other, we're getting married, we're not getting married. It must have been hard on the screenwriters to keep having to come up with endless boring and unplausible reasons for keeping them apart. Obviously, I didn't enjoy this, but I must say you haven't lived until you've watched the scene here where Joan verbally attacks her wedding gown -- honest, like two pages of dialogue -- before ripping it to shreds.