Million Dollar Baby

Don't tune this one in if you're expecting the Clint Eastwood classic, someone may try and slip this one by you. Not that this Million Dollar Baby is entirely bad. It's the kind of silliness that an incredibly skilled group of familiar players make palatable so that you can accept the nonsense on some level.

May Robson does her Applie Annie role in reverse, she's the dowager spinster heiress of an old robber baron whom she discovers got his fortune by bilking a partner back in the day who committed suicide. Seeking to right some wrongs Robson discovers the granddaughter and heir of the deceased partner is Priscilla Lane, proud working person where you find Million Dollar Babies, in a five and ten cent store.

Her lawyer, young Jeffrey Lynn is the agent for Robson's largess, quite a dapper fellow himself. Priscilla's got a boyfriend though, struggling composer Ronald Reagan. Given what Reagan's politics were when he became President of the United States it's a bit much to her him railing against the rich, but who would have figured in 1941.

Some of the best character players around fill out the rest of the cast of Million Dollar Baby and they make the incredible story entertaining in its own way. Helen Westley as Lane's landlady, John Qualen as an eccentric scientist, George Barbier as Robson's former attorney, Lee Patrick as a burlesque queen. There isn't a name I've mentioned in that group that doesn't summon up an image and type that old film viewers know exactly what to expect.

That cast gives Million Dollar Baby the vitality it has. As for Priscilla and her new found millions, will she choose lawyer Lynn or composer Reagan. I won't say, but I will tell you that I think she chose wrong.

This isn't a great movie, though Priscilla Lane is (as usual) better than her material.

But, that said, I was struck with the vocal precision of Nan Wynn in "Who Is in Your Dreams Tonight". Her control was exquisite.

It is amazing to me how very, very good even minor singers were in the 1940's. No, she is not a truly great singer, and I am not a huge fan of 1940's singing. Many later singers and many of her contemporaries were more compelling with weaker vocal skills. (I lean toward Peggy Lee, Chris Connor and Susannah McCorkle on the jazz side.)

But, damn! Who among popular singers exhibits this level of technical skills today. It's a bit like the absence of workmanship in modern manufactured goods.

I love Priscilla Lane, who was great at light comedy but could also play characters with real depth when given the chance. (Check her out in "Blues in the Night"). Her role here is not very demanding, and I could see it being played by many of the other talented movie comediennes of the era. Anne Sheridan was apparently considered, and I could also see Ginger Rogers in the part, but I can't imagine anyone would've played it with more charm and gusto than Priscilla.

May Robson is also great, as always, but the one sour note for me in the movie (no pun intended) is the performance of Ronald Reagan as Priscilla's aspiring composer boyfriend. Ronnie could be a good light comedy leading man, but somehow I just can't buy him as a struggling, tormented artiste. Even worse, he's an entitled, arrogant jerk. I get that he's frustrated playing piano in a "spaghetti restaurant" and not Carnegie Hall, but why does he take it out on Priscilla, who does nothing but give him love and encouragement? His behavior towards her is bullying and borderline abusive, and she must have some serious self-worth issues to put up with him. Sorry if it sounds like I'm looking at a 1941 movie through a 2020 lens, but there were other movies of the period in which women didn't act like such door mats. Maybe it's the way he was directed, but Ronnie needed to bring a lighter touch to his scenes with Priscilla in order for us to understand what she sees in him. (I could see Jimmy Stewart being very good in this role.)

As a movie made during the tail end of the Depression it has that frequent Hollywood theme that money can't buy happiness, and so we see Priscilla having to give away her new found fortune in order to find true love. It's also a favorite Hollywood trope of the time that a real man would never let himself be supported by a wealthy wife. (I doubt that was ever true. Certainly a pianist who wants to spend his time composing symphonies would be happy to have a wealthy benefactress). The business of Priscilla giving her money away gets a bit silly, and the scenes are not directed with the skill of a Capra or Preston Sturges. By the time the movie comes to its anticipated "happy ending" I was sad to say goodbye to Priscilla but feeling a bit exhausted by the whole thing. ("Happy ending" is in quotation marks, because if this were reality, Priscilla would discover she's married a perpetual malcontent, who considers himself too good to play in a restaurant, too good to play in a swing band, and whose symphony got booed, showing that he really isn't anywhere near as talented as he imagines himself.)

As a side note, as a native New Yorker I can tell you that even in 1941 the provided Greenwich Village address of the boarding house was in a pretty nice neighborhood, and not a slum as depicted. Now, in 2020, it's smack in the middle of the richest zip code in America.

Priscilla Lane and May Robson dominate proceedings in this agreeable comedy that borrows themes from the worlds of Frank Capra, Cinderella and Pygmalion, among others.

Jeffrey Lynn is quite appealing as Robson's lawyer, a handsome young fellow assigned to deliver a one million dollar check to department store salesgirl Lane. (It's "conscience money" – Robson has discovered her family fortune is based on a decades-ago swindle that ruined Lane's grandfather.) Naturally Lynn finds himself falling for the very charming Lane, who despite her newly acquired wealth remains stuck on…

Ronald Reagan, a piano player and would-be serious composer whose sour disposition may indicate a stubborn independent streak in the great American tradition—or, may mean he's just kind of a jerk. In any case, Reagan is less than thrilled when suddenly-rich girlfriend Lane urges him to quit his job to write music while she supports him.

Robson plays her trademarked feisty old lady and she is a pleasure to watch, as always. Lynn is fine although the character he plays is unfortunately a bit bland. Reagan has a somewhat challenging role—a potentially fine songwriter who scoffs at popular music and would rather starve than sell out, he doesn't quite succeed in making us see whatever it is that Lane apparently can't resist.

Priscilla Lane herself is certainly the best thing about the picture: She's a Cinderella who sticks to her values and her man regardless of sudden riches and despite Robson's well-intentioned attempts to make her a "lady." Madcap, affectionate, completely charming—when Lane is on the screen (and that's almost every scene), it's really fun to watch.

If the plot doesn't quite work, it is nevertheless a very nice try. The picture does deserve credit for good intentions—and is especially worth watching for any fan of Priscilla Lane.

Whilst May Robson is on the screen this film is entertaining.As soon as she disappears the film goes down the drain.Priscilla Lane seems to think that the quicker you deliver lines the funnier they will be.Reagans character is so poorly written that you don't know if he is meant to be funny or serious.This must be the umpteenth film of this era where a popular musician had written a symphony.Lynn is plain anonymous.In my view there is only one reason why a film like this seems to have permanently disappeared from sight.The reason is that it simply is not funny or entertaining any more.So don't bother to waste your time watching this film.Watching paint dry is much more interesting!