Strangers May Kiss

I give this film a 6 only because it contains the ever elegant Norma Shearer swanning about in those great clothes of the 1930s. The plot borders on the ludicrous......well, maybe I should say the ending is ridiculous but the rest of the film is pretty well done.

Basically, it tells the story of a "modern" woman who believes that marriage is for chumps and proceeds to make a fool of herself over Neil Hamilton(!??!), while her faithful and always tipsy pal Robert Mongomery waits patiently in the wings in hopes of winning her hand. Hamilton is extremely unlikeable and after a long affair with Shearer, he deigns to tell her that he already has a wife in Paris but the marriage doesn't mean a thing. Does she care?....nooooo. But she takes up a life of "loose morality" and globe trots through most of cafe society while never forgetting her love for Hamilton. Robert Montgomery, always close by, pulls her irons out of the fire and brings her back to the United States to start over. Then, in the last few minutes of the film, the story descends to sheer melodrama and unbelievablitly. Who shows up but Hamilton, now divorced, and he and Shearer are seen walking out of the theater on their way to a happy life together. Give me a break!!! The attitude of the main protagonists toward man/woman relationships is rather hard to take in this day and age.......but with that said, it is still worth seeing this pre-Code slice of history. Nobody ever looked better on the screen than Mrs. Thalberg.

Very of its time and very tailored to its star: A love triangle that mainly allows La Shearer to wear great clothes, hog all the close-ups, emote theatrically, and win all the audience sympathy. Or most of it, because one of the two swains bidding for her is Robert Montgomery, and in the charm department he easily outclasses the competition, Neil Hamilton. The latter mistreats our Norma horribly, doesn't reveal that he's a married man until he's had his way with her (it's a pretty racy movie for its day), neglects and insults her and doesn't give her a chance to explain why she's become a loose woman (it's because he rejected her, the varmint). But she just goes on loving the rat. For an assembly-line early talkie, it features unusually snappy dialogue (John Meehan is one of the unsung heroes of MGM), and of course the Art Deco ambience is luscious. But the plot doesn't go where you want it to (i.e., this Hamilton guy just doesn't deserve the leading lady), and the 70-odd years have revealed Shearer's much-vaunted star quality to be mostly a bag of actressy tricks.

This is a precode movie starring Norma Shearer, who looks gorgeous in all the gowns (and is that the way people dressed for a football game in the '30s?).

Shearer plays a free spirit who doesn't believe in marriage and instead cavorts and travels with a reporter. Of course, she's kidding herself, and she wanted the wedding ring all along - when he announces he's been married the whole time and then breaks up with her, she takes up with every man she meets.

This is never actually stated, which makes it kind of fun. Robert Montgomery says, "Boy, what I heard about you in Paris." Shearer: "You didn't believe it, did you?" Montgomery: "Not the first 6 or 700 times."

Montgomery easily steals the movie as her funny, charming, ever-drunk good friend. It's the best role and holds up today. The other roles don't - the story is too melodramatic, acted in an old-fashioned, hand on the forehead style that dates it.

Added to that, the reporter character of Alan, played by Neil Hamilton, is despicable, making the film a frustrating experience for the viewer.

As an artifact and for the clothes and sets, you can't beat it, though.

The pre-Code talkies included many movies in which women led an independent life and refused to submit to the sexual double standard. This one tries to be bold but ends up in a lot of tortuous moral tangles that not only negate the vaunted sexual freedom but make no sense.

The starring free spirit is Norma Shearer, that triumph of hard work (and being married to the boss) over beauty and talent. Though she wears the divine gowns of Adrian, Shearer has no class of her own. Coy, affected, arch, she gives a performance that is a patchwork of tricks and gestures. There's the head flung back, fingers fluttering at her forehead; the hands clasped at one side of her waist while she leans against a door frame; the high-pitched stuttering mirthless laugh (as Rebecca West put it, "out of an all-star revival of Sheridan").

Hardest of all to take is Neil Hamilton as Shearer's Great Love. True, he didn't write the ridiculous dialogue, but he hardly overrides it, with his impersonal, stuffy delivery and bunched-up, prissy features and little mustache.

In the scene in which Shearer encounters Robert Montgomery after a two-year absence, look out for Ray Milland, standing on the right of a row of admirers. Now, he is REALLY cute! But Norma has no eyes for him, only for some slimy type who speaks broken English. Some girls just DON'T want to have fun!

I find much to agree with in all of the comments made about this film. The hypocritical morals are obvious. The disparity between Norma Shearer's acting style, nurtured in silent films, and Robert Montgomery's style, which does anticipate a more modern approach, is also apparent. The costumes and sets are marvelous and capture the milieu with authenticity and panache. But not being a great fan of Miss Shearer, I did, indeed, grow weary of seeing her throw her head back in laughter. I wholeheartedly agree that Robert Montgomery steals the show.

The content of this film makes it racy in any era. The montage of scenes depicting Shearer with man after man makes the point clearly enough without being as explicit as a contemporary film. In fact that method of story telling is one of the key distinctions between films from the Golden Age of Hollywood and contemporary cinema. This method either appeals to an individual's tastes today or doesn't (and it is that bias which often forms the basis of comments found in forums such as this). For the record, I appreciate a less explicit approach to cinema.

The only point I would like to make more explicit is that I found it impossible to see what: 1) Miss Shearer's character saw in her caddish married lover or 2) what Mr. Montgomery's character saw in Miss Shearer's character. The only person who seemed the slightest bit attractive was Montgomery's character (despite his penchant for the bottle), who nobody found desirable.

Filmed today, this movie would probably explore the rejected woman's past, searching for psychological explanations for her preference of an abusive mate over a warm, caring one. This film, therefore, might have been an interesting psychological study and made a little more sense. But filmed in 1930, cinema had a long way to go before really delving into such explorations. Even Bette Davis' landmark portrayal of Mildred in 1934's "Of Human Bondage" is not so much an exploration as a portrait.