Vanity Fair

A ruthless young woman uses her feminine wiles to climb the social ladder. A pre-Code updating of Thackeray's famous satirical novel features an enjoyable performance from a young Myrna Loy, who looks ravishing as the scheming opportunist Becky Sharp, a woman more than willing to throw friendship aside in her pursuit of wealth. It's a little too episodic to be successful, but there's something strangely endearing about the way Sharp accepts each setback with uncomplaining stoicism.

There have been a few Hollywood adaptations of the classic Vanity Fair, but one that is particularly interesting to watch is the pre-Code 1932 version starring Myrna Loy. Because there were no constrictions, it could be as naughty as it wanted to be - and it was! With Myrna's side-eye, smirk, and bold gestures, she's completely believable as Becky Sharp. Becky wants to advance in society and soon learns that sleeping with men advances her social status. In one particularly slimy scene early on, her friend's middle-aged brother practically propositions her in broad daylight. Myrna gives her little smile and realizes that if she gives him what he wants, he'll invite her to parties and dinners with the "right" people.

Modern audiences might find this version tame, but keep in mind it's an old, black-and-white flick. It's almost one hundred years old, and it's very interesting to watch actors in a timeless story of a conniving gold digger.

I love the Thackeray novel on which this film is based. And while this modern version of Becky Sharp's story is a B film, the casting of Loy, in her first top-billed role, is rather fascinating.

Before Loy became MGM's reigning good girl in scores of genteel and comic roles, she was an actress. VANITY FAIR was Loy's follow-up film to EMMA, in which she played a snotty and greedy daughter who almost destroys the loyal housekeeper (Marie Dressler).

Loy's Becky is much nastier than Miriam Hopkins' version 3 years later in BECKY SHARP. Loy's Becky is very much a pre-Code film character with her plunging necklines and amoral ways. It's the type of character that Jean Harlow or Clara Bow could easily have played, but Becky here is still supposed to be of the genteel set. That's what makes her fallen character so tragic.

In counterpoint to Loy's grasping Becky is the goody goody Amelia (Barbara Kent) who is just not an interesting character. Mary Forbes is icily good as Mrs. Sedley. Most of the other actors in this version are pretty blah: Conway Tearle as Rawdon; Walter Byron as Osborne; Anthony Bushell as Dobbin. Others are nearly Dickensian is their quirkiness: Billy Bevan as Joseph; Lionel Belmore as Crawley; Montagu Love as the Marquis; Lilyan Irene as Polly the maid; Elspeth Dudgeon as the housekeeper.

Loy is front and center throughout. While the ending is rather shocking, she has several excellent scenes, such as the gambling scene in the casino where she tries to steal another woman's winning roulette bet. The more Loy's Becky descends morally, the more beautiful she gets until she is finally "caught." Bottom line here is that this is a very solid performance by Loy in a film that should be seen.

You know I'm willing to bet that Myrna Loy was excited that she would get to do a film version of Thackery's Vanity Fair. But she lost her enthusiasm upon finding it was for a poverty row outfit called Allied Pictures. God only knows whether Louis B. Mayer owed something to producer Chester Franklin or Myrna Loy committed some transgression that caused her to be punished.

With the usual MGM productions values and had they kept it in the mid Victorian era it was written, Vanity Fair might have turned out to be a classic film. But it was a poverty row production set during the Jazz Age of the 20s. Where in the United Kingdom it wasn't all that different from us except they were smart enough not to put in Prohibition.

Barbara Kent brings school girl chum Myrna Loy home for the holidays. Myrna is an orphan who once she tastes some of the good life that Kent's family enjoys she's going to have it whatever the cost. The film is a lot like the Barbara Stanwyck classic Baby Face except Baby Face is far less pretentious.

Thackery's writing was of Victorian times and it just didn't make sense for the Roaring 20s. Myrna had a lost look and I'm sure she was grateful to finish the film and get back to MGM.

What could she have done to deserve this?

I bought this DVD as part of a set of 50 "historic classics." It's hardly a classic, and as the plot was updated to the time of its release, is not historic either. The actual title on the DVD is "Indecent," and additionally subtitled "The Private Life of Becky Sharp." Myrna Loy is not very convincing, although in her defense she is saddled with an awful script and trite dialogue. As with many early talkies, and especially ones made by smaller studios, there is little skill demonstrated by the cast and crew. Loy does wear a few gowns that are quite stylish, but her costumes and make-up in the later scenes are overdone. The one saving grace is a tolerable performance by Billy Bevan, who plays one of her many suitors