Baby Face (1933)

You won't be disappointed!

hyped garbage

This is a tender, generous movie that likes its characters and presents them as real people, full of flaws and strengths.

All of these films share one commonality, that being a kind of emotional center that humanizes a cast of monsters.

This is an entertaining, albeit repetitive, script flip on behaviors clearly acceptable among men at the time. I appreciated that Lilly Powers was going after what she wanted in the world and was willing to use men as much as the men wanted to use her. Good for her. And I appreciate the progressiveness of Stanwyck's character looking out for and not leaving behind Chico. I think it's fare to say that Chico was probably paid more than the average "help" to afford such furs as she's seen wearing. Or at least I'd like to think so! Stanwyck's plays the part wonderfully. I liked the visible attempt of fitting in in higher class jobs and society - when she corrects herself on the phone when she slips and says "ain't" and turns it into "isn't." You can tell she sort of loses sight of herself in the facades she puts on for all of these men she uses and manipulates. And predictable finds the one who truly warms her heart. This movie shows/alludes to sex very boldly as it's pre Hayes code - it feels quite brazen at times. But I suppose that's the point. At times I felt sorry for Powers because her bold plans for upward advancement definitely alienated her from her female peers who clearly had disdain for her behind her back. Overall it's a well made movie with a stunning leading woman.

Hollywood's pre-code noir movies are generally worth a look. One of the very best, of course, is the notorious "Baby Face" (1933), now available on a 10/10 Warner DVD as part of Volume One of "Forbidden Hollywood". The only thing wrong with "Baby Face" is the cop-out conclusion. Until the very last few seconds, however, Barbara Stanwyck has the role of her life as the ultimate gold-digger who pans her way to the top. The male players are not lacking in impetus either, with solid cameos not only provided by always reliable actors like Douglass Dumbrille, Arthur Hohl and Henry Kolker, but even by the often lackluster Donald Cook, the usually over-zealous Nat Pendleton, and even the often unjustly dismissed James Murray. The fluid yet remarkably vibrant and powerful direction by often disappointingly lackluster Alfred E. Green is likewise a galvanizing surprise.

To see a pre-code film like this is to have bawdiness thrown into your face, and have all your pre-conceived notions of the propriety of early Hollywood upended. Baby Face was Warner Bros' attempt to one-up MGM's Red-Headed Woman from the previous year, and both films would contribute to the hastening of the Production Code. Jean Harlow flaunted her infidelity and sexuality at every turn, openly declaring her trashy beauty with see-through dresses and a sexual thrill at being struck, but Barbara Stanwyck only needed a light caress and one look to bring men to their knees. Vice Presidents, aides and bosses walked into the room all thinking to set her straight, yet she has other ideas, and sends them on their way dazed. It is one of Stanwyck's most electric roles, made of smothering closeups and dialogue not merely laced but stinking of suggestion, and it points to her scene-stealing allure no matter the colour or style of her hair. In one particularly intoxicating scene in The Lady Eve, she lies in the lap of Henry Fonda, donning that dark, half-cut dress, and turns a screen icon into putty in her hands. The wardrobe in Baby Face similarly marks her rise from the ashes. Beginning with small-town rags and a reputation for being the town prostitute (she's slept with more men at the film's opening than in Lilian's entire crusade), she emerges from the flames of a fateful fire determined to make a name for herself. Soon she has lacy dresses of all sorts, dons frilly manes and scarfs of ridiculous proportions, and at one point, seems to have fat, furry ferret wrapped around her neck and back (it's a heavy and cumbersome thing). How has she afforded these costumes? Green never shows her truly working, but in an audacious sexual metaphor, utilises a craning shot that gradually rises from the lowly filing department all the way up to executive offices. She is sleeping her way up the corporate ladder.It was wildly progressive in other ways too. Theresa Harris plays Chico, Lily's quiet, unassuming black maid, one of the last times we would see such subtlety before the mammy character took hold. Chico remains a loyal companion throughout, gaining some frilly additions to her dress as well - Lily's insistence that Chico stay by her side while others stared uncomfortably is perhaps the single streak of goodness left in her as she ascends to the top and falls from grace. Yet even before the code censorship boards were still demanding redemption for villains such as Lily Powers, if only eventually. Comeuppance wasn't enough, she had to be beaten into submission, have sentiment reintroduced into her, and so the original script's ending of Lily ending up slaving away in a steel mill was scrapped for the romantic realisation in the ambulance. Only then could it be screened to the public; a hour of debauchery and immorality, only for the conclusion to assert the overpowering values of true love and modesty. Rediscovered in 2004 and restored to its full corruptive allure, the uncut version of Baby Face allows some insight into its intended version. Gone was a man's first consuming gaze of Stanwyck, the camera moving over her long legs, and then only reluctantly up towards her face. Audience did see that same man's shockingly forward approach in propositioning her, first by stroking her on the knee, and then coming up from behind to snatch at her breasts. What they missed was the fiery Stanwyck giving as good as she got: pouring hot coffee over the guilty hand, and then later smashing a bottle over the man's head. They wouldn't see anything as daring as that from a woman for a while afterwards.

First off, I loved learning that this was originally a Vitaphione film, while those were still (barely) used by 1933. As we learned on the early technologies of film sound/audio, it was fun to realize this was one of those rare films that implemented the Vitaphone technology. So, if you have a bit of a crush on Barbara Stanwyck, you might get your guts ripped out from this film, because she is areal floozy, and quite the bedroom-cash-register -- all just to get her way with men. Her character of Lily, is a real rotten soul - but it's a fun movie to get through, to see how it progresses. She basically sleeps her way to success and wealth, from the lowliest bars/speakeasies, and all the way up to the top management of a bank. Sadly, Stanwyck's younger years as kid and teen weren't too far off from this portrayal, sans the prostitution. She grew-up rough, so I'm certain she was comfortable and at least knowledgeable enough to take on this role.