Jewel Robbery

"Jewel Robbery" reflects the comic virtuosity of actors and actresses - and directors - in an eclectic Hollywood too soon to be stifled by THE Code. Kay Francis, little known to most movie buffs today, sparkles as a liberated, adventuresome and bored wife of a doting, not doddering exactly, but boring rich hubby. Apparently only his largess keeps her hitched and she seems quite open about looking for some exciting liaisons and she ain't talking about platonic ones either. The sexual innuendos aren't subtle. Neither are they serious.

William Powell is a suave and quick-witted gentleman jewel thief. In one sentence he dismisses the violence of his American counterparts, asserting the urbane civility of the European high class criminal.

"Reefer Madness," one of Hollywood's all-time great comedies, came out in 1937. In 1932 Powell, the jewel thief, dispenses marijuana cigarettes left and right and although the name is never used, the goofy behavior of the smokers prefigures the exaggerated and demonic grass-induced St. Vitus dance of the later documentary.

A short, sprightly comedy where crime is neither dangerous nor particularly even objectionable, "Jewel Robbery" is a small gem from a long bygone Hollywood. If you can rent it, do so. You won't be disappointed.

William Powell is a smooth jewel thief who captivates Kay Francis in "Jewel Robbery," a 1932 film made before the dreaded code kicked in.

Set in Vienna, Francis plays a baroness who, like her friends, has married a dull man for money and takes lovers. While her husband is buying her a 28-carat diamond and she's arguing with her boyfriend, William Powell and his team enter to rob the store. It's love at first sight.

This is a slight but very amusing film, interesting for the racy story line, the outfits, and Kay Francis herself. A very unusual-looking woman, Francis' heyday was in the '30s, and everything about her screamed '30s, of course - her hair, her fashions, and the kind of films she made. She's somewhat frozen in time there.

Powell is his usual dashing, delightful self, and the two work very well together. The scene at Powell's place is particularly interesting, as she demands not to be asked to do anything, but to be forced, at which point, he picks her up and throws her onto his huge bed. "But there are so many pleasant in between steps," she objects.

A delightful movie, not terribly long, but fascinating given the era in film in which it was made.

Jewel Robbery (1932)

If you haven't seen why Pre-Code films are a riot—and very very well made— watch this one. Here the sassy, sexy, glammed up heist of a jewelry store becomes a game of manners and courtship. Jewels do in fact get stolen, but that's so not the point of the movie.

Centerpiece is William Powell, the superstar status still to come with his "Thin Man" and "Godfrey" roles. He's in top form, always a bit peculiar but really lovable and suave because of it. One of a kind.

Equal to him is Kay Francis, who is alive on screen like few actresses, and a great foil to Powell's cool. If Powell is still famous, Francis is not, and the reasons are not clear. (She was labeled "Box Office Poison" in a famous 1938 article, but that same piece labeled Joan Crawford and Kate Hepburn as well, both of whom had hardly begun their mature careers.) But Francis is a wonder in her heyday and you may as well start here to get why. (She was for years in the 1930s the highest paid actress bar none.)

So if you aren't convinced to see this yet, take the set design, the tightly engineered photography and editing, and the overall direction by William Dieterle, who is an underrated master of the classic Hollywood years. Again, just see this for proof.

As for the Code and its effect here, listen to the banter, which is fast and loaded with double entendres. No one skips a beat, and the fast swirl never gets confusing. Really a remarkably packed 70 minutes.

This film has to be on the short list of films-that-epitomize-pre-code-Hollywood. Adultery, drugs, crime, flaunting of morals and convention, free-spirit thumbing their nose, all done with humour and glamour. One can understand why the church was upset! Problem was that there were many films that played on these themes so it must have seemed that Hollywood was really out to corrupt the world. This one has the full package but with a wink and smoothness that today's garbage film-makers would never have the patience to pull-off. Too bad the code swung the pendulum way too far in the other direction. A must-see for Francis and Powell fans.

A bored Baroness discovers love & excitement when she becomes caught up in a thrilling JEWEL ROBBERY.

Scintillating, light as air and slightly naughty, this pre-Code charmer will delight discriminating viewers looking for a sophisticated comedy, a little trifle with which to while away an idle hour. Thievery, marijuana and infidelity--while very serious subjects--are here satirized almost to the point of insignificance. The whole purpose of this forgotten film--which compares nicely with the best of Lubitsch--is to provide the audience with a good time, and in that it succeeds quite admirably.

Beautiful Kay Francis is enchanting, her cool demeanor barely concealing the mischievous passions just below her elegant surface. Very bored with her wealthy but unattractive husband (Henry Kolker), she yearns for a more exciting life. Gentlemanly thief William Powell provides that opportunity. Suave & debonair, he instantly makes the viewer forgive his regrettable vocation. As a twosome, the stars bring just the right frisson of pleasure to their scenes to please all but the most jaded viewer.

The supporting cast further adds to the film's fine distillation. Hardie Albright as Francis' admirer & Helen Vinson as her friend both portray willing partakers of Old Vienna's hedonistic lifestyle. Spencer Charters is very humorous as a completely incompetent night watchman. Sour Clarence Wilson plays a police official, while Alan Mowbray shines in his few minutes as a no-nonsense detective.

Movie mavens will recognize rotund Robert Greig as a chauffeur, tobacco-eating George Davis as a police secretary & the wonderful Ruth Donnelly as Miss Francis' maid--all uncredited.