Wild Girl

... complete with perfectly styled platinum hair and penciled-in eyebrows. She's lusted after by a wide assortment of men, including Confederate veteran Charles Farrell, gambler Ralph Bellamy (replete in full Snidely Whiplash regalia), and sweaty Irving Pichel. Eugene Pallette is also on hand to provide blustery comic relief and self-deprecating fat jokes.

Director Raoul Walsh frames the film as being viewed through an old photo album, and the opening is a doozy, with each actor shown as a "page" in the album with their name at the bottom, and they each deliver a line or two about their character along with their character's name. It's very awkward, yet memorable. Many scenes also segue via a "page turning" wipe/transition. There's also some nice location shots of the giant sequoias. Otherwise this is a bunch of overheated hooey.

An exceptionally rare pre-Code western-romance-comedy starring Joan Bennett, Charles Farrell, Ralph Bellamy, and Eugene Palette, and directed by the always-brash Raoul Walsh. Adapted from the Brete Harte short story 'Salomy Jane's Kiss' and filmed on location among majestic California redwoods, this film features a young blonde Joan Bennett as the titular "wild girl"—a nature-loving free-spirit who is wooed by many but who falls for an out-of-town stranger (Farrell). Made in 1932 before the Hayes Office Code was strictly in force, Wild Girl shuttles between romance, adventure, raucous comedy, and titillation (a skinny-dipping Bennett). The unusual opening credit sequence is one of the most memorable of the period. This film is full of rowdy fun -- highly recommended!

"Here was this bandit, a-strippin' these women..." "What?!?" "...of their jewelry." "Oh."

The plot to this pre-Code western is a melodramatic mix of subplots, none of which are terribly satisfying, but there are a few things which made it mildly entertaining:

• The magnificent California redwoods in Sequoia National Park, where filming took place.

• The equally magnificent Joan Bennett, flitting about in tight shirts, skinny dipping, and finding love. She's divine. Don't read too much into the title though, it's salacious clearly to sell tickets, and the character is actually modest and virtuous. In fact, it's a little disappointing that the "tomboy" comfortable with climbing atop a moving stagecoach is wearing a dress after falling for a handsome stranger (Charles Farrell).

• Eugene Palette imitating agitated horses.

• Raoul Walsh's style of scenes ending with the film turning a page as it's rolling, a neat little effect. He also uses it after the opening credits, when the main actors introduce themselves.

• Ralph Bellamy's character having the grace to know that the young woman doesn't truly love him and then backing off, telling her she'll know when the right one comes along instead of being aggressive, which is so often seen in these films.

• The town prostitute (Minna Gombell) brazenly introducing herself as "I'm called a lot of names, by different men," and then later mocking the hypocrisy of the sheriff and the "Purity League" he represents, probably a clever dig at the Catholic League of Decency, who a couple of years later would finally succeed in getting the Production Code enforced.

• The notable way that for the two crimes committed, the sheriff and a posse capture the men and without any semblance of a trial by jury, take them off to be executed by hanging, and no one bats an eye over this process.

To the extent that she ever enters into the consciousness of today's moviegoers, Joan Bennett is probably best remembered for four films------two directed by Fritz Lang and two helmed by Vincente Minnelli. The Lang pair are film noir classics from his American period that also starred Edward G. Robinson and Dan Duryea: The Woman in the Window (1944) and Scarlett Street (1946). The Minnelli duo featured Spencer Tracy and Elizabeth Taylor, and are beloved comedies from the Golden Age of Hollywood: Father of the Bride (1950) and Father's Little Dividend (1951). All of these movies presented us with a mature Joan Bennett from her brunette period (the better remembered one), when she looked a lot like Hedy Lamarr and often acted like her on the screen. Bennett was glamorous in a kind of worldly adult way during this period. She seldom generated real excitement but was always attractive and dependable. Bennett was regarded as the consummate professional while on the set.

Many (perhaps most) do not remember the Joan Bennett of her earlier (pre-1939) blond period, with the possible exception of appearing as Amy in the George Cukor version of Little Women (1933). During that period, she was radiant in her youthful beauty-----possibly striking would be a better description. She was charming, engaging, natural and likable in a wide variety of different roles-----a real audience pleaser. The virtually unknown Raoul Walsh production of Wild Girl (WG) was made for Fox Studio during Bennett's blond period, and captures a 22 year old youngster with all her lovely fresh appeal on full view. It is a real pity that WG is so rare and hard to find today.

The only male in the cast who matches Bennett in talent and attractiveness is supporting player Ralph Bellamy. Bellamy is by far the best actor in the film. He presents us with a complex, subtle and nuanced performance that seems quite modern for its time. Unfortunately, leading man Charles Farrell, once a silent film star, tries hard to register some romantic chemistry with Bennett-------but the best he appears able to muster is projecting a warm, sincere image.

WG has a good supporting cast that is largely unknown to contemporary audiences with the possible exception of frog-voiced Eugene Pallette. Walsh is considered by film historian Ephraim Katz to be "one of the most durable, prolific and proficient of Hollywood's directors" and is regarded by many critics to be "one of the great primitive artists of the screen." His mastery in 1932 of the problems posed by location photography and the related technical sound challenges of that time is quite remarkable.

For the fortunate few who will have the pleasure of seeing WG, you are in for a real treat! Seek it out!

Raoul Walsh tackles Bret Harte in this one. It's a natural for this usually muscular director with a vicious sense of humor; he was fond of repeating Jack Pickford's comment that his idea of light comedy was to burn down a whorehouse.

Although he has fallen out of favor, Harte and Mark Twain were judged neck-and-neck for the two best writers to come out of the Old West. Harte's characters were not one-dimensional; he approached them as complex human beings with conflicting sets of emotions and self-justifications. As a result, this movie, derived from "Salomy Jane's Kiss" has a lot going for it. Add in the outdoor shooting among the redwoods around Mount Shasta and the lovely conceit of using frame wipes that freeze the frame and then make it look like a page being turned, and you have a beautiful motion picture.

Unhappily, few of the performances are up to the visuals. Perhaps it was due to the fact that handling of sound outdoors was still pretty primitive and some of the performers are either unseasoned for the screen or still not out of the silent era and the line readings sound very stagey. Whatever the reasons, they act best when they are doing things, not saying things -- the hanging sequence is devastating.

Even with that cavil, this is a wonderful picture. Everyone looks right and Joan Bennett is stunningly beautiful. If you get a chance to see it -- mine came with the 2012 Museum of Modern Art 'To Preserve and Project' festival -- take it.