The Mystery of Juarez

There are a lot of mysteries concerning old-time Hollywood that will probably never be solved but if I had to pick the one that most intrigued me this week, it would be the mystery surrounding the reasons why the 1939 movie Juarez received its current title. After all, the movie itself did not seem to be too interested in telling the story of the Mexican president it was named after. Indeed, despite playing the title role, actor Paul Muni spent so little time on film that it seemed a wonder that he got any dialogue at all in the movie.

Nor did it help that he was constantly upstaged by actor Brian Aherne (who played would-be Mexican Emperor Maximilian I) and actress Bette Davis (who played Maximilian's wife Carlotta). True, Muni did get to make a lot of serious speeches but in the end, it was Aherne and Davis whose characters who got the bulk of the filmmaker's sympathy if for no other reason that they were among the few historical figures in the movie who got to be portrayed as human beings.

Thus the movie Juarez presented its viewers with a paradox: a movie that was allegedly about the triumph of the first Mexican president of Indian descent that nevertheless chose to concentrate most of its story on his European opposition. Which is a nice thing if you always wanted to see a movie about people like Maximilian and Carlotta but kinda besides the point if you wanted to see a movie about people like Benito Juarez.

If that wasn't a big enough paradox, the movie also found time to portray Porfirio Diaz (the head of Juarez's military forces) in a heroic role -- a development that seemed ironic considering what would happen to Diaz in later life. But, alas, this was a movie that had little room for irony.

Trailer of the Week: Juarez

"...But when a presidente misrules, the people change him." Oh, snap! Easy enough to see why this movie isn't likely to be remade any time soon. But wait! They're talking about another country in this movie, right? Not the US...

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Carlota de México!

AKA María Carlota Amalia Augusta Victoria Clementina Leopoldina de Sajonia-Coburgo y Orleáns Borbón-Dos Sicilas y Habsburgo-Lorena.

Born June 7, 1840. Died January 19, 1927.

She was the former Empress Consort of Mexico as well as the wife and widow of Maximilian I of Mexico.

Thanks to her, actress Bette Davis got to play one of her more memorable movie roles.

She also had a profound influence on Mexican history but alas, not a positive one.

Bette Davis Eyes and the First of the Red Hot Latin Loathers: Bordertown

I never really understoond what the term "Bette Davis eyes" meant until after I recently saw this movie. Perhaps it was because, like most people of my generation, my main knowledge of Ms. Davis's work came from her post-Baby Jane days when she seemed to be cast more and more for shock value than for actual talent. Or perhaps it was because like most movie buffs, I took Ms. Davis' status in her younger days for granted. After all, one could argue that anyone could do good with the great dialogue of an All About Eve or The Petrified Forest; however, to stand out well enough to make a silk scarf of the pig's ear of a movie that is the 1935 movie Bordertown takes special talent.

Indeed, the script for Bordertown is bad enough that Ms. Davis's ability to stand out in her role as Marie Roark seems more of an accomplishment than any of her more famous roles. And of course, part of the reason Ms. Davis stands out so much in this movie is the way she uses her oh so noticeable eyes. In fact, she uses her eyes in a mad scene so different from previous movie mad scenes that the studio's first impulse was to make her do it over. It was not until after:

(1.) Ms. Davis agreed to do such a repeat only if the movie's preview audiences failed to realize her character's true mental status.

and

(2.) said preview audiences proved her right.

that they backed off of such a demand.

Ironically, Ms. Davis was never supposed to be cast in Bordertown. The male lead Paul Muni originally wanted either Carole Lombard or Lupe Vélez to play Ms. Davis' part opposite his Johnny Ramirez character. However, after Ms. Davis got a lot of positive attention as a result of her role in the 1934 RKO film Of Human Bondage, Warner Brothers studio head Jack L. Warner insisted that she be cast in the part -- which is just as well since Ms. Davis's performance is one of the few reasons Bordertown is still worth watching nowadays.

Part of the problem with this movie is that like all too many Hollywood movies about Mexican-Americans -- including some recent releases I could mention -- the movie is never quite as progressive as its creators think it is. On the surface, Johnny Ramirez is a lot more sympathetic than the thuggish title character Muni played in Scarface -- but not by much. Although the script makes much of him being a reformed hood who has turned his back on his former lifestyle and now just wants to play lawyer and please his mother, it also makes him seem incredibly naive. No sooner than he graduates from law school than he turns his back on his law books, and when he has the chance to help an old friend with a big civil case, he does not seem to even try to do much research, preferring instead to just wing it based on what little information he finds. As a result, he not only ends up losing what should have been an open-and-shut case against the rich white debutante who drunkenly ran into and totaled his friend's truck, he also ends up being held in contempt of court by a very biased judge. And as if that is not enough, he punches out the opposing attorney to boot.

Afterwards, Ramirez ends up abandoning his law practice and going to work as a manager for local bordertown casino owner Charlie Roark (played by Eugene Pallette). Ramirez proves more successful as a casino manager than he ever was as a lawyer, and he even manages to attract the attention of not just one but two Anglo women -- Charlie Roark's wife Marie and spoiled debutante Dale Elwell (the same woman who totaled the truck of Ramirez's friend). Ramirez makes it clear early on that he is not interested in returning Marie's affection. Instead he becomes obsessed with Ms. Elwell (played by Margaret Lindsay), a woman whose idea of romantic subtlety involves continuously addressing him as "Savage" and letting her girlfriends know that her interest in him is little more than social slumming. Eventually Marie grows jealous of Ms. Elwell and strives to win Johnny for herself. When Johnny refuses to cooperate, Marie takes it upon herself to free herself from her husband by using her spouse's own love of gadgets against him. And when that plan does not work to change Johnny's mind, she accuses Ramirez of a crime he did not commit...

In any event, it would probably be a bit much to expect 2013 liberalism from a 1935 movie, especially one made at a time when Mexican-Americans were still facing massive discrimination throughout the American Southwest. Then again it seems a bit much to applaud such a movie for essentially implying that all such cases of discrimination were just the result of fiery Latin tempers and all too active Mexican fists.

It says something about the movie's concern for its Latin characters that we in the audience never do find out whether Johnny's friend ever got his truck fixed. Nor does it help that the script's idea of a happy ending means Johnny Ramirez leaving Anglo society in order to go back where he came from. True, it is implied in the movie that Johnny will be using his money and experience to finance a law school for his fellow Mexicans. But after eighty minutes of implying that you can take the boy out of the barrio but not the barrio out of the boy, such an ending does not seem all that cool. Moreover, Ms. Elwell's fate is depicted in such an over-the-top fashion that even the most ardent LULAC member might consider it to be overdone.

Indeed, Bordertown is a lot better when it comes to the unintentional irony. For example, when Ms. Elwell first sees Mr. Ramirez in the courtroom, she immediately draws a sketch of him and labels it "savage" despite knowing little more about Ramirez than his profession, his appearance and his ethnicity. Yet when Ramirez drops by her home later in the movie, Ms. Elwell is in her backyard sunbathing in the nude (said sunbathing, of course, being done in such a fashion that even the most conservative member of the Hays Office would not object). In short, like the stereotypical "savage" she undoubtedly looks down upon, Ms. Elwell is not only wearing no clothes when Mr. Rodriguez arrives but she is also doing her damnest to turn her skin darker. And like a "savage", she does not seem particularly guilty about the damage she caused earlier in the movie until it is almost too late to do anything about it.

Anyway, there are many movies about Mexican-Americans that are much better to watch than Bordertown. However, Bordertown does give modern audiences an interesting insight into what even the most progressive white non-Hispanics thought about Mexican-Americans back in 1935. And come to think of it, that is perhaps the most damnable thing about Bordertown -- not that it is so dated or so backward but that it was considered so progressive by the standards of its day. If nothing else, that makes me wonder how progressive today's best movies will seem in 2091.

Movie Quote of the Week

I don't ask for things I don't think I can get.
--Bette Davis, The Little Foxes (1941)

Movie Quote of the Week

I’ve been betrayed so often by tomorrows, I don’t dare promise them.
--Bette Davis, Dangerous (1935)

Trailer of the Week: All About Eve (1950)

Don't just stay home polishing all the awards you've won.

Why not go out to the movies and see something that will put those awards in perspective?

Movie Quote of the Week

Come on, Oscar. Let’s you and me get drunk.
--Bette Davis, The Star (1952)

Not So Quiet Desperation

Cultural conservatives always tend to go on and on about the good old days when Hollywood movies respected flyover country (the land between LA and New York) yet some of the most negative portraits of such country pop up in many an old movie made in the very era they wax nostalgic over.

For example, it’s difficult to watch a film like 1936's The Petrified Forest and not get the feeling that the audience was meant to root for the female lead character (a bookish waitress played by Bette Davis) to leave Arizona and fulfill her dream of traveling to France. The film doesn’t exactly mock America but it doesn’t pretend that Davis’s character -- Gabrielle Maple -- is particularly happy where she’s at and it’s perhaps no coincidence that the character most mocked in this movie is a self-styled patriot while the most respected character describes himself as “an American once removed.”

The Petrified Forest is most famous today for being the movie in which actor Humphrey Bogart first achieved stardom. Bogart plays the heavy, a criminal fugitive named Duke Mantee whose gang hides out in the diner/gas station where Gabrielle Maple works. Also present at the diner are Maple’s grandfather, Maple’s would-be suitor, and a drifter (played by Leslie Howard) who captures Maple’s fancy. Eventually a rich couple and their chauffeur get roped into the mess and although words are exchanged between many a character, the main conflict proves to be a war of words between Howard's character -- Alan Squier -- and Duke Mantee, a conflict which eventually resolves itself in a way that I dare not give away.

Alan Squier -- a former expat who is currently hitchhiking his way across the country -- is most interesting because it’s the type of character one rarely sees in movies anymore: a self-styled intellectual who is self-aware enough to be humble and sensitive enough to be more attractive to a local girl than a local football hero. Yes, it’s tempting to see this character as little more than a lonely screenwriter’s wish-fulfillment fantasy but the dialogue between him and Maple actually proves quite interesting. The subjects Maple and he discuss in their conversation (fate, nature, genetics, etc.) rarely get mentioned in movies nowadays and I for one found it refreshing to hear such people talk on and on without once feeling the need to throw in a pop culture reference so that the average movie-goer won't feel left out.

It’s even more refreshing to see Ms. Davis prove her versatility by playing a character so vastly different than the role she last played with Mr. Howard -- that of the scornful waitress in Of Human Bondage -- though, of course, that movie would not be the last film in which Ms. Davis proved such talent.

Of course, this movie was based on a play, and it might be argued that the movie could afford to be more literate than the average modern movie because it was based on a property that had already proved itself commercially on stage. But it’s still refreshing to see such a movie in existence and it’s a pity one doesn’t see movies like this more often.