feminist films

Van Heflin’s Surprising First Role

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The first time you see Van Heflin (Lord Gerald Waring Gaythorne) in A Woman Rebels (1936), his debut role, you do a double take.


I had to look closer, to make sure it was indeed Van Heflin and not Leslie Howard. A word I never thought I’d apply to him is slight. He’s quite slender in it, but it’s not so much his form as his lack of presence–such a strange first impression of a gravely-voiced, burly sailor-turned actor who is riveting as a farmer in Shane, a suffering family man in 3:10 to Yuma, a powerful adventurer in Green Dolphin Street and hero in The Three Musketeers. The actor who would later fairly sing with physicality and gravitas seems so forgettable in his first moments onscreen, even timid. Luckily, he has a promising second act late in the film.

The story begins with Heflin playing the rake who tempts a Victorian heroine, Pamela Thistlewaite (Katharine Hepburn). We don’t see the charm and sex appeal that are so seductive and sinister in The Prowler and charming in The Strange Love of Martha Ivers. (It seemed fitting that the repeat scene of his seductions is literally Madame Tussauds wax museum.) Later love interest Thomas Lane (Herbert Marshall) comes across as more attractive than Heflin. Read that sentence again. Yeah, that bad.

But late in the film, Lord Gaythorne returns as a bitter middle-aged man who despises his wife (who is not Pamela). And suddenly, in a lounging jacket of all things, you see it: THERE HE IS.


The slow confidence of Heflin’s stroll. HIs measured way of speaking. His intensity as he describes his hatred of his spouse. There is the compelling actor I fell hard for in The Strange Love of Martha Ivers. The always naturalistic performer whose moments onscreen are so believable, visceral and real. The man who isn’t conventionally attractive, yet is so sensual because he’s so confident and alive. The kind of actor he will be is not fully on the screen yet, but you see his promise.

The film itself is not great but ahead of its time, based on a 1930 novel by brave feminist Netta Syrett, who also had feminist artist sisters–or, as they were called then, “new women.” And while everyone around her is lackluster, Katharine Hepburn nails the role.

Pamela has a child out of wedlock, passes it for her sister’s, and then has a stunning career as an outspoken writer/editor speaking out for women’s rights and other issues. In between, she has a funny meet-cute scene with Thomas.

The film and many of the characters (I won’t reveal which) refuse to shame Pamela for her actions, even when her secret threatens her and her daughter’s happiness. The movie falls in the same camp as Hepburn’s other intriguing feminist roles from the 30s, such as Christopher Strong.

The story is unevenly told with some weird plot holes, and you have to suffer through some weak female performances and the aforementioned drags-down-everything Marshall. He doesn’t have quite as sleep-inducing of an effect as George Brent, but close. Sadly, this may be his most charming performance, and yet–look at this expression and tell me you don’t feel like you took a sedative.


You have to wonder with some smoother plotting and better acting around her whether the film could have really been something, as fascinating and unconventional as it was, instead of yet another bomb that got her in box-office-poison trouble. It doesn’t help that Hepburn has zero chemistry with either of her love interests.

Luckily, there’s enough in Hepburn’s performance and the surprises of the story to keep you watching. And to see that beginning of Heflin’s allure is quite fun. You have to love Hepburn recommending Heflin’s casting after seeing him in a play. (And how much would you have liked to have seen them perform on stage together with his version of the Jimmy Stewart character in The Philadelphia Story?) She knew even in the mid-30s what he had in him. Yet another of the thousand reasons to adore the great Kate.

Check out other striking debuts and final acting performances in the Classic Movie Blog Association’s Screen Debuts and Last Hurrahs blogathon this week!

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Mae West as the Outlaw: My Little Chickadee

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When asked what outlaw I wanted to feature for the Classic Movie Blog Association’s Outlaws blogathon, I immediately thought of Mae West’s character in My LIttle Chickadee. I know Mae West’s siren ways and bumpy pairing with W.C. Fields are more frequently associated with the film, but it’s hard to miss how West’s Flower Bell Lee flouts the law–not to mention convention–in this 1940s flick. And of course, being co-written by West, the film includes plenty of hilarious one liners and shimmying.

The story begins with Flower Bell (West) traveling by stagecoach to visit (and presumably settle with) her aunt and uncle in a Western town. She’s buffing her nails as the male passengers gawk and an accompanying woman, Mrs. Gideon (played by Margaret Hamilton, of witchy Wizard of Oz Fame), looks on disapprovingly.


Suddenly, a masked robber stops the coach to rob it of its gold. The rest of the passengers race out of the coach with their arms up. Flower Bell just sits there, sure it has nothing to do with her, and more interested in her nails.


The “Masked Bandit” (as he’ll later be called) threatens to kill the others if she doesn’t budge, so she reluctantly does. She doesn’t mind being “held up” she informs the masked bandit, but doesn’t like to be inconvenienced. And thus the delightful double entendres begin.

Of course the bandit notices Flower Bell’s beauty and abducts her. He returns her to her new town outskirts soon after, but clearly, she enjoyed her time away. He comes to visit her in her room at night, Romeo style, and kisses her while still hiding his identity. Unfortunately, her former stagecoach companion, Mrs. Gideon, spies the two in Flower Bell’s bedroom, and informs the town. Flower Bell is forced to defend her actions in court and identify the marauder. She refuses to tell anyone a thing, and gets kicked out of her new town, told she has to stay away till she’s married and respectable. The inflamed Mrs. Gideon also spreads the word to the ladies of the nearby town where Flower Bell is going, Greasewood City, saying Flower Bell won’t even be allowed to get off the train. But Flower Bell doesn’t care, as she makes clear with her parting words to the judge, when he asks if she’s trying to show contempt for his court: “I was doin’ my best to hide it.”

Since this is West, we audience members know she will not only get off the train, but have all of the townsmen in her thrall as well. And that happens. But first she has to fight off Indians attacking the train. Again, she’s buffing her nails, and when arrows almost hit her, she slowly pulls them out of the side of the rail car, rolling her eyes as she does so. Why must these pesky outlaws get in the way of her manicure?


But when a fellow passenger dies, she takes up his two guns, shoots a bunch of Indians with obvious relish, saying she’s dispensed them in a “shower of feathers.” She’s angry because they’ve dared to “intimidate” her (sounds like a typical outlaw response, huh?) Flower Bell’s nonchalance and bravery are hilarious to witness in this strange scene. Even as we viewers flinch at the Indian stereotyping, we know that Flower Bell doesn’t care about race (more on that later). She just doesn’t like any bother, and agrees to be a hero–but only if she must.


Meanwhile, a flirtatious passenger, Twillie (W.C. Fields), has been cozying up to her, and since she sees he has a bag of money, she doesn’t mind, and flirts right back.


He too plays his part in fending off the Indians, but mainly that part is yelling at them for assaulting a private car and bumbling in Fields’s typical physical-comedy way. Twillie has no problem with Indians; his best friend/servant/gambling partner is one (their strange interaction, and the film’s odd combination of racist terms and stereotypes and yet ahead-of-its-time treatment deserves a post of its own).

But even though Twillie doesn’t mind Indians attacking OTHER trains, he does object to being annoyed, much like Flower Bell, though he’s far less accomplished than she in fighting back. Once the danger has passed, the two get closer, as his marriage proposal gives Flower Bell a way to exit the train in peace. She soon ropes another gambling friend on the train into acting as minister. That friend uneasily performs the marital vows. Flower Bell has no intention of sleeping with Twillie, only using him to get a free room and the blameless rep she needs to keep seeing her outlaw and whomever else she pleases. Even Mrs. Gideon, again a fellow passenger, smiles her approval.

Once in Greasewood’s best shady saloon/hotel, a number of antics ensue as Flower Bell keeps Twillie out of her room while helping him with his gambling and lies. When he brags that he saved the train, she lets him take the credit. The town makes him the sheriff, but as the last few have died within months, this honor has more to do with Badger (Joe Calleia), the unscrupulous bar/hotel owner, wanting Flower Bell widowed than any conviction that Twillie has guts. Flower Bell then proceeds to flirt with the muckraking local reporter, even acting as a teacher to help him out in a classic West scene.

Flower Bell enjoys the reporter’s idealism and Badger’s dangerousness, and it’s very unclear which man (if either) will get her in the end. Meanwhile, the Masked Bandit continues his courting, and Twillie, finding out his “wife” likes a man in costume, pretends he’s the bandit himself. Naturally, she discovers the fraud, but can’t save him from the town posse, who is now convinced he’s the villain. Well, she can’t save him at first. Just as she defended him when he lied and cheated gambling, Flower Bell comes to his aid again. She claims he’s no bandit, and after getting put in jail for defending him and her own shady associations, she busts out and saves the day, without giving away her lover.

Of course, we find out who the bandit is, and there are no surprises there. The fact that the bandit’s accent makes it clear he’s Latino (even if the actor isn’t) doesn’t bother West’s Flower Bell. She may be portraying a woman from the last century, but West doesn’t even bother to defend interracial romance in the film, which clearly condones it. The fact that Flower Bell repeatedly breaks the law—in harboring the bandit, in escaping from jail, etc.–never gives the heroine (or her creator) a moment’s worry. In fact, Flower Bell takes the bandit’s gold with pleasure as a reward for her kisses, and encourages the town (when he leaves a bundle of goodies for them) to do the same.

But the transgressive nature of this film goes so much further. The female lead is the hero, the brave town leader and both defender against and abettor of outlaws. W.C. Fields at points seems to be in his own movie (and from what we know of how little the two got along, and how much they wrote their own parts, he basically was). But in all of their interactions, she bests him with no more effort than pushing back a cuticle. Her character’s name highlights her extreme femininity, which clearly doesn’t stop her from having mad skills with guns or enough bravery to face TWO towns full of people eager to attack her. Flower Bell does everything without a trace of fear; in fact, she performs dangerous acts with BOREDOM, proving, lest any males doubt it, that Mae West will always be the biggest, baddest outlaw of them all.


Check out all the fun outlaw entries at the Classic Movie Blog Association’s site.

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One Liberal’s 2018 Distraction Guide

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I assume those of you horrified by 2017 headlines have been fighting back with the help of political action sites. But sometimes what you need is to reset your equilibrium just so that you can get through the day, and if that’s what you’re looking for, here are my current (admittedly often silly) survival routines. (Note: I don’t expect my suggestions to be yours, but maybe your disagreement about mine will lead to suggestions of your own, which I’d love to hear.) Here are mine:

Enjoy a Little Snark
Tom and Lorenzo are this fashion police duo who are hilariously harsh. As someone who hasn’t been knowledgeable about fashion since middle school, and never any good at it, I’m not sure why I find fashion critiques so funny. My shoes alone would give them years of fodder. But I love them anyway, and their TV reviews, which originally brought me to their site (Mad Men and Downton Abbey tributes/slams in particular), are always on point.

When I can’t find the sarcasm I need, I head over to someecards or bad reviews on Metacritic. Go to the most negative reviews, and try not to laugh, such as those giving 0% ratings for Collateral Beauty. How about this from the usually affable Peter Travers?: “The unholy mess that director David Frankel and screenwriter Allan Loeb have unleashed for the holidays strands an all-star cast…on a sinking ship that churns the waters from absurd to zombified with frequent stops at pretentious.”

Ask Friends/Family for a Cute Photo of the Day—Over Email
On terrible news days, I now demand, “Cute photos needed!” of my sister with young toddlers, and presto! They arrive. Seriously, what parents will say no to sharing how adorable their children are? On Facebook or Instagram, you need to wade through other things you should avoid, so stick with Old School, my friends: Email. If you’re not a fan of children, you will find friends and family equally willing to share cute pet snapshots. Get to it.

Celebrate a Pal for No Reason
My friend Kerry once stopped by my door with a package and a smile, and announced, “It’s Leah Appreciation Day!” I burst out laughing, as she knew I would. I can remember few times I was so amused and touched, and I made a mental note at the time: This is a fabulous idea. I can’t say I do it enough, or with the aplomb Kerry—a master of silly joy—has mastered, but it’s surprisingly recuperative on a day you’ve watched too much news to buy a dumb card or film for a pal, and announce how much you appreciate him/her with over-the-top fanfare. Birthdays you may feel pressure to get it right. Random days? It’s just fun.

Break Out Some Silly TV
I thought the Psych movie was a remarkably timely gift, but now Amazon has put all the episodes on Prime! Score!

Other light favorites (given Netflix’s recent trends of show ditching, these are only true as of Jan 2018):

Netflix:

  • Arrested Development
  • Schitt’s Creek
  • The Good Place
  • Master of None
  • The IT Crowd
  • Sirens
  • The Office (British & American)

Hulu:

  • 30 Rock
  • Parks and Recreation
  • Party Down

Amazon Prime:

  • Leverage (Prime, Season 1)
  • Head Case (with Alexandra Wentworth; pay only)
  • Psych, of course! (Prime)

Invest in Some Cinematic Feminism
It’s easy to just cry at the #MeToo movement; instead, seek inspiration. Check out some awesome blogathons to discover feminist icons of film. Check out the The Anti-Damsel Blogathon from 2015, as just one example. Commit to discovering the work of female filmmakers, as did Girls Do Film two years ago for her New Year’s resolution.

And if you haven’t yet encountered some of the fantastic feminist TV series out there, do so now. Here are a few from Netflix (The Handmaid’s Tale is obviously next for me):

  • Jessica Jones (a superhero who survived rape and combats her rapist and those he’s harming)
  • Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (a woman in her 40s in 1920s Australia who is portrayed as both sexy and empowered)
  • Alias Grace (an intriguing fictionalization of a true-life 1840s murder, and the male treatment that may have contributed to it)
  • Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (a musical comedy that breaks boundaries in its portrayal of romance, feminism, and mental illness)

Tune out Everything But Your Pets
Guess who doesn’t know what’s going on out there? Guess who isn’t too blame? Too often I am watching TV or my computer while petting my cat, but when I give my high-spirited feline my full attention, there’s no low-grade stress accompanying my actions, and he’s more likely to cuddle and comfort. Also, he’s less angry.

View Silly YouTube Clips
My favorite clips are Key and Peele’s, and if you’ve experienced the brilliance of Get Out! or found yourself falling for Obama’s Anger Translator, Luther, during that White House Correspondents Dinner, you’ll know why I love this amazing comic duo. My personal favorite is the substitute teacher episode, but there are so many.

If you’re a fan of Issa Rae and her HBO hit, Insecure, you’ll love her earlier webisodes, The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl. “The Hallway” (fewer than 6 minutes) may be my favorite illustration of social awkwardness ever. If all else fails, you’ve got cat videos.

Dust off Those Stamps
Lately, I’ve been getting cards and books in the mail, with thoughtful notes from friends and family. Maybe we’re just so Internet and texting crazy that we forget how wonderful it is to see something that’s NOT a bill or junk in that mailbox. For a while, I’ll forget this need, and stop sending anything, and when I do again, I remember, I love mail. So does everyone else. I believe this need is one of the unspoken reasons for the rise of Amazon. Too lazy for cards? Grumpy Cat postcards. 5 minutes.

Reread Favorite Books and Discover New Comic Ones
Jane Austen is restorative for me; in fact, she knows I’m stressed before I do. Usually, she’s my canary in a coal mine; when I have a strong desire to read her, I know I need to consider some serious downtime or therapy or re-examination of my existence. Lately, she’s just a news recovery mechanism, as have been my favorite mysteries. Walter Mosley’s insightful detective, Easy Rawlins, is on my bedside table now, right next to some new (not depressing) memoirs I can’t wait to read: Lindy West’s, Adrian Shirk’s, and Amy Tan’s.

Put that Phone Down at Night
You know you shouldn’t read news before you go to sleep. Put that phone far enough from your hands that you can’t access it if you’re sleepless. You can read the headlines and delve into those depressing articles in the morning, when work will soon take you away. Not at night, when you’ll dwell and toss and turn. There are even studies on how that glare keeps you up. Move the phone.

Go to a Ridiculous Festival/Museum/Parade
There’s a museum down the street from me that is just full of things hoarders have offloaded. Last time I visited, there was a room full of dolls. It was vaguely horrifying, with old Troll dolls and Cabbage Patches. Yeah, I was freaked out, but it was also magic. See a poutine or bacon festival in your area? Sure, it’s about as healthy as mainlining Crisco, but it’s one day: Go.

Set a New Friend/Family Ritual—and Keep to It
A weekly karaoke night? A Stranger Things viewing party? A regular football watching ritual at the bar? It doesn’t matter. We need company right now. Make sure you have it.

Listen to Awesome Podcasts
If you’re a classic movie fan and haven’t been listening to Karina Longworth’s You Must Remember This (Podcast), what are you waiting for? Her series on the blacklist alone is enough to enthrall, and there’s so much more. The Atlantic includes a long list of awesome podcasts for those with any and all interests.

Watch Depression-Era Comedies
This is a movie blog after all, and I’ve found both eerily prescient warnings and relief from stress in classic favorites. I know some of you classic movie doubters think we’ve evolved so much that there’s no way those almost a 100 years ago were like you. But during the Depression, people were watching some decadently clothed folks doing silly things, just like you are now. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers were wowing with their fancy footwork and quick barbs, and then easing their fans into a little romance. Mae West, pioneering screenwriter and star, was sashaying her way across the stage and then the screen, seducing men almost half her age with lines so funny we’re quoting them now. I highly recommend these two options as regular fare, and you can search through this site for much more, but if you’re smart, you’ll find the work of my peers at the Classic Movie Blog Association and discover new favorite film recs from those much more knowledgeable than I. It’s no accident that film comedies from the 30s are among the best ever made: They were needed.

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What strategies are helping you get through the news? Post here, or share with others. Let’s get by, as the Beatles have told us in my least favorite of their songs (but a wise one nonetheless), with a little help from one another.

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