I am proud and delighted to report that I am programming and hosting a series of six rarely-seen Universal Pictures from the 1930s next month at Quentin Tarantino’s New Beverly Theatre. From Friday to Sunday, September 20-22, I will be introducing 35mm prints of films that, for the most part, haven’t been shown on television or released on home video. (Needless to add—but I will—they aren’t streaming, either.) There are some real discoveries here and a chance to see some fine work from both sides of the camera.
The series begins with George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart’s sublime satire of Hollywood in the early-talkie era, Once in a Lifetime (1932), starring Aline MacMahon, Russell Hopton, and Jack Oakie. It opens with a message from Universal chief Carl Laemmle congratulating himself for being able to laugh at his own expense. With it is The Cohens and Kellys in Hollywood (1932), the sixth of seven politically-incorrect ethnic comedies featuring George Sidney and Charles Murray—and cameo appearances by Universal contract players Boris Karloff, Lew Ayres, Gloria Stuart, and Tom Mix.
On Saturday night we’re showing Afraid to Talk (1932), an incredible pre-Code story about political corruption in a big city featuring such slick bad guys and blowhards as Louis Calhern, Tully Marshall, Berton Churchill (the crooked banker in John Ford’s Stagecoach) and Edward Arnold. It features some amazing art deco sets and innovative camerawork, as you’d expect from the man who shot Metropolis, Karl Freund. It was directed by Edward L. Cahn, who also made Law and Order that same year. I was privileged to show this solid Western at the TCM Classic Film Festival a while back, and it holds up awfully well. It was co-written by a young John Huston and features his father Walter Huston as a stand-in for Wyatt Earp. The screenplay is based on the true story of the gunfight at O.K. Corral as documented by W.R. Burnett (the author of Little Caesar). Harry Carey costars in this unpretentious and surprisingly powerful film. Director Cahn went on to an undistinguished career after making these two gems back to back in 1932.
Sunday night brings a double-dose of Margaret Sullavan, including her debut feature, Only Yesterday (1933), directed by John M. Stahl, who knew his way around a soap opera. Keep a box of tissues handy, as John Boles deserts Sullavan after impregnating her—then doesn’t remember who she is when they meet again years later. Sullavan’s gift for comedy is on display in The Good Fairy (1935) with William Wyler directing a screenplay by Preston Sturges. This charming, very funny film is available on DVD but I look forward to watching it with an appreciative audience.
My inspiration for this series was a month-long tribute to “Junior” Laemmle, the son of Universal’s founder Carl Laemmle, mounted by Dave Kehr at New York’s Museum of Modern Art in 2016. Some historians feel that Carl Jr. has gotten a bum rap. He was an object of some ridicule when he was named head of production in the late 1920s by his father, who never let nepotism stand in the way of doing business. But the younger Laemmle made often-daring decisions that ultimately paid off. He championed filmmakers like James Whale and William Wyler (his cousin!) and was largely responsible for the studio’s commitment to horror films. Unfortunately, the Laemmles, who never owned a chain of theaters like Paramount, MGM, RKO, or Fox, were forced out of their own company after a series of financial setbacks in 1936. Junior bore the blame for overspending on films that earned critical respect but not enough cash.
If you live in or near Los Angeles I urge you to seize this opportunity to see beautiful prints of some unsung films. If the program is successful I hope the New Bev will allow me to show even more.