Harlow, la blonde platine

No doubt the fact that there were two movies about Jean Harlow in 1965 might surprise some people; to add to that, apparently neither Carroll Baker nor Carol Lynley was the right woman to play her (I have to admit that I've never seen any of Jean Harlow's movies - unless you count her appearance in "City Lights" - so I can't comment one way or the other). Either way, this "Harlow" seems to go in two directions. On the one hand, it shows how the Hollywood dream looked: the opening scene shows what many people coming to Tinseltown expected, and then Jean Harlow gets to live that dream...at least superficially. On the other hand, the portrayals of Harlow's public life and private life make it nearly impossible to determine which is to be best remembered. Here, her frustration with her mother (Angela Lansbury) and anger at her stepfather (Raf Vallone) get played to almost comic effect. Is every movie star doomed to have something in his/her personal life that has to get sensationalized in a biopic?

So, I would say that this movie takes the same approach to its subject that "Mommie Dearest" did: trashy, but something about the movie gives it an almost desirable feeling. Did I like the movie or hate it? Well, it has its visuals (I would call Carroll Baker a visual in and of herself), and it sure beats any Steven Seagal movie for smarts. In a way, that's about it. Since I don't really know much about Jean Harlow, I just have to accept what "Harlow" says. It's not outright worthless, but don't make it your first choice. Also starring Red Buttons, Martin Balsam and Leslie Nielsen.

This is one of two films released at the same time about the tragic, original blonde bombshell. Carrol Baker is certainly beautiful in the role, but the strange mixture of 1930's dresses and 1960s spike heels and hairdos undermine the attempts at any accurate 1930's atmosphere. The music in the background would be more at home on an episode of "Pete and Gladys" than in a story of old Hollywood. Leslie Nielsen's character has a bachelor pad that would be the envy of Hugh Hefner. There are no true references to any of Harlow's work. She never (to my knowledge) ever took a pie in the face or was sprayed with seltzer water. (She did have an impressive walk-on in an early Laurel and Hardy short). Her earliest film appearances were as a film extra in such pictures as "The Love Parade", 1929. Her breakthrough role was in the Howard Hughes 1930 epic, "Hell's Angels". Her performances got better and better as she went under contract to MGM and made some truly classic films there including "Dinner at Eight." None of this is shown in "Harlow." The character of the Mother is shown to be pretty much sympathetic as played by Angela Lansbury. What is glossed over is the fact that Jean Harlow's real Mother was a Christian Scientist who forbade her daughter real treatment for her "illness", reportedly caused by the beatings she suffered at the hands of Paul Bern, until it was too late to make any real difference. The inaccurate facts presented in this film could be due to the fact that many of the principals involved in Jean Harlow's life were still living in 1965, the year that both of these "biopics" were released. If you want an accurate biography of Jean Harlow, see some of her actual films and read one of the many decent books about MGM. On it's own, the film "Harlow" is mildly entertaining in a "Valley of the Dolls" sort of way. The Carol Lynley version of this story is only slightly more accurate than this glossy, Technicolor version. I haven't seen it in years, and therefore cannot give an accurate review of it.

In 1965, in yet another classic example of "Copycat Movie Making" Hollywood produced not one, but two film biographies of Jean Harlow, the 30s 'Blond Bombshell' whose tragic, short life was reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe. One was a gaudy, ambitious big-budget production starring theater and film actress/sex symbol Carroll Baker; the other was a low-budget, experimental film starring television actress/sex 'kitten' Carol Lynley. Both films failed, both in capturing the essence of Jean Harlow, and as film biographies. While the Baker film, which I'll discuss here, had enough lurid titillation for three films, the sweet-natured girl who was loved by nearly everyone who knew her never makes an appearance.

The 'real' Harlow, born Harlean Carpenter, in 1911, arrived in Hollywood at 16, with an over-ambitious mother and newlywed husband in tow. Divorcing her husband, she appeared in 'bit' parts until Howard Hughes 'discovered' her, and cast her "Hell's Angels", in 1930. She was a sensation, despite possessing a tinny, twangy speaking voice (which voice coaches would work on, throughout her career.) Eventually signing with MGM, she would become a sensation, frequently co-starring with Clark Gable, and her off-screen life would be even more sensational; her second marriage, to producer Paul Bern, would last only two months, and he would soon commit suicide, fueling rumors of his inability to 'perform' his duties as a husband; a third marriage, to cameraman Harold Rosson, soon followed, only to last eight months. She finally found happiness with actor William (The Thin Man) Powell, but before they could marry, she developed uremic poisoning and kidney failure, dying in 1937, at 26.

Baker's "Harlow" dumped any references to Gable and Powell (Mike Connors, in an off-beat piece of casting, plays the character 'based' on Powell), created an agent who served as a confidant (Red Buttons), and showed a decline in Harlow's spirit, until she became as sleazy as some of the characters she occasionally played (which those who knew her best flatly denied; the sensational headlines did not 'cost' her a career, or her 'soul', they maintain). The film presents her finally 'cleaning up her act', but dying before she can share her new-found joy.

Jean Harlow was an optimist, self-reliant and resilient, with a ready laugh, and an often too-generous nature. She never took her sex appeal too seriously, and preferred 'being comfortable' to creating illusions. She was adored by her co-workers, and the grief everyone felt at her death was genuine, not staged.

If "Harlow" had gotten even a part of this right, it would have been a far better film!

It's hard to believe anybody involved in the production of this glossy nonsense ever actually saw any of the real Jean Harlow's movies (none of the titles of which have been used). And apart from Harlow herself (who was seven years younger when she died than Carroll Baker was when she made this movie) only Paul Bern - played by Peter Lawford, who looked nothing like him - hasn't had his name changed. (Having been dead for over thirty years he presumably had no living next of kin liable to sue.)

But it's a sign of how standards have plummeted since this was made that while this was laughed off screens and died at the boxoffice in 1965, forty years later Scorsese's equally phoney 'The Aviator' (in which Harlow is fleetingly impersonated by a brassy-looking Gwen Stefani) won a fistful of Oscars.

It's big, it's expensive, it's colorful, and that's about it. The people behind "The Carpetbaggers," obviously hoping that lightning would strike twice, put together the high budget version of Irving Schulman's alleged biography of Jean Harlow the following year. This was a mistake. "Carpetbaggers" was trash, but it was enjoyable trash. "Harlow" doesn't even reach that level. Both the Schulman book and this movie were really more fiction than fact and many of those who knew and worked with Harlow, most of whom were still alive at the time, took serious issue with both. Then there are the performances. Even talented people like Angela Lansbury and Raf Vallone, as Jean's mother and stepfather, couldn't do much with this mess, and so compensated by going over the top. But for sheer miscasting, the real violator is not Carroll Baker's overripe Harlow, but Peter Lawford's Paul Bern. Here was the tall, handsome Lawford playing a man who was, by all accounts, short, bald, and, frankly, rather dumpy looking. It's a good thing everything and everybody else in this film other than Jean Harlow, her immediate family, and agent Arthur Landau, were cloaked under various pseudonyms. To have done otherwise would have left Joseph E. Levine and Paramount open to a world of trouble resulting from the libel suits alone.

In short, watching "Harlow," you'll gain nothing and lose 130 minutes you'll never get back again. It really isn't worth it.