God's Gift to Women

In this painfully drawn out bedroom farce, set in Paris, Frank Fay is miscast as the titular love object, a descendant of Don Juan, who is smitten with a young American in Paris (Laura LaPlante) but in order to win her must extricate himself from the tangled web of his long- term intrigues with a virtual harem of lovers (played by Joan Blondell, Margaret Livingston, a sadly underused Louise Brooks and others).

The set up is amusing and deftly staged by Michael Curtiz, but once the direction of the plot becomes clear it bogs down in long, boring and insultingly stupid gag sequences, one upon another, involving Fay's diagnosis with a potentially fatal illness; eventually the viewer can only long for this character's demise.

The fine lineup of female supporting players is wasted as are Charles Winninger as LaPlante's suspicious and protective father and Alan Mowbray as (what else?) the butler. Tyrrell Davis gets to wrap the whole thing up with a decadent chuckle, foreshadowing his even more unusual closing moment in "Our Betters" two years later.

Frank Fay's trademark casual banter works against him here because it only adds to the already sluggish pace.

Frank who? It's difficult to engage immediately with unfamiliar actors. Frank Fey was a very popular but infamously arrogant 1920s comic and he's actually quite good in this, a natural talent. Once you get used to him, you'll find this 'Carry On style' farce quite entertaining.

Allegedly Frank Fey was a particularly unpleasant man and looks wise, he certainly was not God's gift to women! He's got really creepy eyes and looks like a cross between Lee Tracy and Pope Benedict XVI. You'd think it implausible for all these sexy women to be chasing him but somehow in real life he managed to snare Barbara Stanwyck so there must have been something about him. Nevertheless he was a professional and despite appearing like he sleeps in a coffin filled with Transylvanian soil, he really carries this picture.

Whereas Fey is pretty decent in this, silent cinema star Laura LaPlante is atrocious. But if you think she's bad, wait until you see Margaret Livingstone - oh dear, even for a comedy, some of the acting in this is terrible. Fortunately we have the divine Joan Blondell. Her former vaudeville experience is just perfect for this type of daftness. You can tell that she's destined for stardom - it's a shame this wasn't made a year later when she'd established herself as she'd have been brilliant in the lead. Even though she's not got a huge part, she makes a real impact - and not just because she strips down to her underwear. That scene lasts just two seconds but for us fans, it's the highlight of the picture!

Although forgotten today, Frank Fey was a huge star in the 1920s so Warner Brothers, expecting a big return on this, threw an uncharacteristically big budget at this. It looks sumptuously delicious and has even got a full score which wasn't that common in 1931. Michael Curtiz however still hadn't mastered making talkies when he made this - he certainly could do the visuals but as I've said, apart from Fey and of course Joan Blondell, the rest of his characters seem utterly unrealistic. This was a common flaw in early thirties comedies - 'comedy acting' wasn't like straight acting, it was purposely awful, presumably that style was considered funny back then.

Overall, if you like well made silly farces or are in love with Joan Blondell, give this a go. Not as funny as 'Allo 'Allo though.

I thought this film was much better than its IMDb rating (4.9/10 at the time). It's an obscure early talkie, but it's mildly amusing and, at only 72 minutes, no great waste of time.

For movie buffs, the draw of this film is its cast and crew. It's one of Joan Blondell's early films and it's a rare opportunity to see iconic silent screen star Louise Brooks in a talkie. It's also one of the few films of popular vaudeville comedian Frank Fay. Familiar character actors like Alan Mowbray and Charles Winninger have supporting roles, and the whole thing is directed by the great Michael Curtiz (CASABLANCA).

GOD'S GIFT TO WOMEN (1931) is a comedy about romance. Frank Fay plays a modern-day Don Juan, a notorious Parisian playboy and ladies' man who is smitten with an American tourist. His high-living social crowd and various paramours complicate his efforts to win over the girl (and her father) and become a one-woman man. His situation gets tougher when he is diagnosed with an aneurysm that threatens his life if he is overly excited (i.e., "no more girls"). Would he go for that last kiss if he knew it would mean instant death?

Frank Fay gives a solid comedic performance, with his sort of off-the-cuff wit. He nimbly toes the line of pre-Code profanity, several times saying "Go to --" before abruptly switching gears. He's particularly funny once he learns he's a dying man. There's a fun scene where he quibbles with an undertaker about his funeral arrangements.

Laura La Plante is a nice-looking girl, but she just doesn't have "it" and she makes for a rather dull leading lady. Luckily she disappears for much of the second half of the film, allowing Curtiz to showcase Joan Blondell, Louise Brooks, and Yola d'Avril buzzing around Fay's bedroom in various states of dress (as they all come to nurse Fay back to health).

Joan Blondell is a favorite of mine and she sparkles in her secondary role, jumping on top of Frank Fay (who must avoid women, lest his aorta burst) when she finds him an uncooperative patient. Louise Brooks's name is almost lost in the middle of the cast list and she doesn't have a very big part, but she makes an impression in that bedroom farce scene with her alluring attire and screen presence.

"God's Gift to Women" is nowhere near a star turn for Louise Brooks. The movie belongs to Frank Fay, who was a popular Broadway star of light comedies at the time, and the first husband of Barbara Stanwyck. Casting the effeminate Fay as a Casanova was a stretch, but his delivery is quite funny in places. The plot line is pretty predictable stuff, but there's a sweet little twist in the final scenes.

Laura La Plante, a tall, rangy Missouri beauty, has the female lead. She successfully made the transfer from silents to talkies. La Plante is charming, and she is photographed to best advantage.

Tenth billing. This is what Hollywood did with Louise Brooks in the early 30s, even after she had made "Pandora's Box" and "Diary of a Lost Girl," the two German films which assured her immortality. But very few Americans had seen those movies at all in 1931, and those who had saw only heavily censored versions.

Very little has changed in Hollywood in the past nearly 80 years. Consider Adrien Brody, whose Oscar netted him Diet Coke commercials, and Halle Berry, whose Golden Boy landed her roles in screen gems such as "Gothika" and "Catwoman." Hollywood punished Louise Brooks for being an independent thinker. Yet she makes the most of her 4-5 minutes' screen time in "God's Gift to Women." As always, you simply can't take your eyes off her.

Frank Fay is horribly miscast in this film, which is about a lothario who falls in love with a sweet young woman (Laura LaPlante). He has absolutely zero screen presence, so making him a descendant of Don Juan who is "god's gift to women" is laughable, and he exacerbates things with a dopey performance, slurred lines, and mispronunciations of names like Monet, Rodin, and Paleozoic. (And I say this not biased over the person he was in real life, the reading of which made me feel bad for Barbara Stanwyck). The film alludes to adultery with several married women carrying on flings with his character without being weirdly punished or judged, nice fodder for a pre-Code film, but it doesn't do nearly enough with this.

To be honest, it's only watchable for the brief appearances of Louise Brooks and Joan Blondell, who liven things up considerably just after the 40 minute mark. You see, Fay's character has been told he must avoid women because of a heart condition, and that if he wants to live, he "must follow the tranquil existence of an oyster." Blondell shows up in a tight dress to nurse him back to health. As she's changing into something more comfortable in the next room (cut to a long shot of her in long black lingerie), Louise Brooks shows up to do the same (and yes, cut, to her flaunting her legs while changing). Blondell climbs on top of him to get him to stay down in a bed a couple of times, a third girlfriend (Yola d'Avril) enters, and eventually the three women get into a giant catfight on the bed, legs a-flailing. It's damn silly but of course the best part of the film - and I say that with no offense to LaPlante, who looks cute in her smart haircut and does what she can opposite Fay, who's a limp noodle.

While Blondell was just about to go on a tear in the early 1930's, the film was made at a sad point in Brooks' career. As Kenneth Tynan described it in "Lulu in Hollywood," in 1930 Brooks had gone back to Hollywood, but when she met with Columbia executive Harry Cohn, each time he appeared naked from the waist up. He writes, "Always a plain speaker, he left her in no doubt that good parts would come her way if she responded to his advances. She rebuffed them, and the proffered contract was withdrawn." If you look at the steep dropoff in Brooks' filmography, with this dog of a film one of only three she made in 1931 (and one of the other two a short), it's clear why she went back to New York and almost completely dropped out of the business. Enjoy seeing her here, in a talkie - and notice that while some of the other women in the cast have the hairstyle she made famous, she sports a different look. Otherwise, if you're not a fan of Brooks or Blondell, this is one to skip.