'Counsellor at Law' is undeservedly obscure

Counsellor at Law (1933) 
Starring: John Barrymore, Bebe Daniels, Onslow Stevens, Isabel Jewell, Melvyn Douglas, Doris Kenyon, Thelma Todd, John Hammond Dailey and Vincent Sherman
Director: William Wyler
Rating: Eight of Ten Stars

George Simon (Barrymore) is a workaholic and a highly successful attorney who clawed his way up from the gutter to an office high atop New York City in the Empire State Building. Over the space of a few days, he finds his professional and personal life crumbling to ruins.

"Councellor at Law" is a swift moving drama whose origins as a stage play are clearly evident throughout its run-time. While that's usually a negative in these reviews, this film is the exception that proves the rule. All the film's action takes place within the high-cielinged, art-deco rooms that make up the Law Office of Simon & Tedesco, so the limited locations and characters moving about as if they're following blocking on a stage and arriving stage left and existing stage right isn't a distraction. It also helps that the entire cast is made up of actors who are film veterans--some of whom got their start as child actors during the silent film days, like Bebe Daniels--and therefore are all giving cinematic-oriented performances rather than being stagey and projecting and emoting so the audience in the back rows can pick up on what's going on.

John Barrymore and Bebe Daniels, the film's stars, give particularly impressive performances. They both give perfect examples of what "show, don't tell" means. Daniels' character never expresses the deep love and respect she has for her boss, Simon, nor how much it pains her to see how blind he is to the disrespect and disregard he gets from the blue-blood wife (Doris Kenyon) he loves above everything else. Bebe had, literally, grown up on movie stages and at this point had more than 20 years of film acting behind her--and it shows. Similarly, Barrymore's best moments in the film come in near-wordless scenes, and the moments in the picture when he lost all hope and is contemplating suicide are some of the most impactful bits of filmmaking I've come across. (Barrymore's acting is top-notch, but he is ably supported by a director and technical crew who understood how to take full advantage of the black and media they were working in.)

While Barrymore and Daniels shine the brightest here, the supporting cast is also spectacular. Among the most remarkable performances are Thelma Todd in a small, but important role, as one of George Simon's shady clients with a case against an even shadier person who as wronged them; Doris Kenyon as Simon's snobbish wife whose actions demonstrates that he only has value to her so long as she can exploit his love for her and desire for acceptance in her social circles, with Melvyn Douglas taking a turn as a blue-blood leech with with lecherous designs on the wife underscoring this point; and Onslow Stevens and Isabel Jewell, as Simon's law partner and the office receptionist/switchboard operator respectively, providing office and period flavor for the story.

All in all, this film is an example of all the good things works from this period has to offer. It's got cool art-deco sets (since it's set during the 1920s, probably right around the time the stock market is getting ready to crash); a flawed hero who is obviously the embodiment of the film's major social and political messages but who is the creation of writers who have enough respect for the audiences intelligence that he isn't also a funnel-shaped mouthpiece for those messages; and snappy dialogue that moves scenes from lighthearted to dramatic with blinding speed.

I only have one real complaint about this film, and it relates to an otherwise excellent sub-thread about office romances/sexual harassment that runs through the film. While one of the clerks is constantly and crudely hitting on the receptionist, a young lawyer in the firm is just as constantly and politely asking Bebe Daniels' character on dates. She constantly rebuffs him with escalating hostility, because she is increasingly distraught over how everything is falling apart for George Simon, as well as Simon's obliviousness to how he is being badly used by people he thinks are on his side. Ultimately, the young lawyer has had enough of her coldness, stops pursuing her, but he hands her a letter of some sort during their last exchange. We never find out what's in that letter, and I really wanted to know what that was because that subplot (out of the many in the film) remains unresolved at the end.

"Councellor at Law" is an undeservedly obscure film. If you appreciate early talkies, or have been impressed with John Barrymore and Bebe Daniels in other roles, you need to see it.

The stars of 'Corsair' give strong performances, but are let down by a flawed script

Corsair (1931)
Starring: Chester Morris, Thelma Todd (as Alison Loyd), Frank McHugh, Mayo Methot, Fred Kholer, Ned Sparks, and Emmett Corrigan
Director: Roland West
Rating: Six of Ten Stars

It's Prohibition Era America. John Hawks (Morris), a one-time college football star grows angry and disgusted with the predatory business practises of his investment banker boss (Corrigan), and the way his boss's daughter, Alison (Todd), seems to treat him like her property and possible living sex doll, he decides to turn the tables on them by becoming a predator himself: Teaming up with the mistreated and disgruntled employees (Sparks and Methot) of bootlegger Big John (Kohler), with whom the banker is secretly in business, Hawks launches a pirating operation geared toward intercepting Big John's shipments and selling the stolen booze to the investment banker, thus making him pay for the same illicit goods twice.

As the summary above might indicate, "Corsair" is a complicated story. It is full of twists and turns and reversals. Some of these are surprisingly tragic. It's also a story that's populated with great characters... but, unfortunately, the most important of these characters are not developed to their full potential--the two main characters, John Hawks and Alison Corning.

Thelma Todd is best remembered today for her roles in comedies, but she proves in "Corsair" that she could tackle dramatic roles with just as much effectiveness. Her man-eating character in this film is so cold and self-assured that she doesn't even try to hide her dark heart and lusts. While watching the film, I had the sense that Todd's character was more than just a spoiled rich girl with a wild and independent streak, but was actually a sociopath or perhaps even a psychopath.

Unfortunately, we never see enough of Todd interacting with other characters to really know if my interpretation of her is right or wrong. She comes onto Hawks, who sees her for what and who she is and rebuffs her advances again and again. This only makes her come at him harder, and it's what eventually puts her in the middle of Hawks piracy operation, and everyone in danger (including herself and her feckless fiance).

Speaking of John Hawks, as mentioned, his character is woefully underdeveloped. We know he's an ex-football star, we know he's a man of high morals and is willing to stand by those morals... but it's never made obvious why he goes to the extremes he does, becoming a pirate with the express purpose of robbing a powerful and dangerous bootlegger just so he can stick it to a rich banker who happens to have a sociopathic daughter who set her sights on him. Maybe something happened between  Alison and John during the months he worked for her father that we aren't privy to, or maybe John saw more dirty dealings on the part of his employer beyond hard-selling little old ladies on risky investments that made more money for the firm than for them? Who can say, because there's nothing in the film to give a clearer reason for why John does what he does.

This lack of depth to John and Alison, or any dimension to their relationship with each other, makes them boring lead characters, and it causes them to be overshadowed by John's "insiders" in the bootlegger's operation--a couple, Sophie and Slim (played by Mayo Methot and Ned Sparks), who help John rob their boss because their cut will allow them to escape the yoke of crime they are laboring under. Methot, for example, has a couple of really effective scenes that deftly define her character's motivation, her relationship with Sparks, as well as inspire a great deal of sympathy from the viewers. If only Todd or Morris had been given such well-crafted scenes to perform.

Aside from the underdeveloped main characters, "Corsair" is mostly an excellent film. It's a different sort of gangster movie that's beautifully and creatively filmed--with some surprisingly modern-seeming techniques given that this is a film from 1931, from a director whose career was over at this point--and it delivers tension and suspense found all-too-rarely in the B-pictures of this period.

I say "mostly excellent" because the great parts of the film are sandwiched between absolute dreck. The opening scene is dragged out and annoying because the filmmakers obviously and clumsily try to conceal Thelma Todd's identity for as long as they could--she made this film under what was supposed to be her "new stage name", so I suspect they were going for a Big Reveal and failed. And the film's finish is absolutely awful and out of step with the rest of the movie. I won't say anything more, for risk of spoiling it, but Morris and Todd's final scene together is perhaps one of the worst bits of cinema the public has ever been subjected to.

All in all, the good in "Corsair" outweighs the bad, and I think it's worth checking out for anyone who likes 1930s crime dramas. It's also worth watching for the performances given by Ned Sparks and Mayo Methot, as well as those of Chester Morris and Thelma Todd. In each case, we get to see them play types of roles that they were rarely seen in... and they get to show that they were actors with greater range than their professional pigeon-holes allowed them to show. (One can only imagine how great Morris and Todd could have been if they had been graced with the sort of material that Sparks and Methot had to work with.)




Trivia
Alison Loyd is better known as Thelma Todd. This was the one and only time she used that "stage name", reportedly at the urging of her boyfriend, director Roland West, and a numerologist who claimed it would help her career.

Also, this was the first film role for Mayo Methot. She would go onto have a minor film career that would be over by 1940, thanks to her alcoholism and bad temper. (Once, in a drunken rage during her short marriage to Humphrey Bogart, she threatened him and dinner guests with a loaded gun.)

Finally, "Corsair" was director Roland West's last movie. His career had been waning since silent movies fell out of favor, and in 1934 he went into business with Thelma Todd as co-owner of a cafe. Following her death in 1935, he broke for good with everything Hollywood related.