I Live My Life (1935)

Must See Movie...

Absolutely Fantastic

a film so unique, intoxicating and bizarre that it not only demands another viewing, but is also forgivable as a satirical comedy where the jokes eventually take the back seat.

It is a whirlwind of delight --- attractive actors, stunning couture, spectacular sets and outrageous parties.

Misfire MGM comedy that might have worked better with two different leads. Rich brat Joan Crawford meets archaeologist Brian Aherne. Brian's got a thing against rich people so Joan lies and says she's a secretary. Later when he finds out the truth, sparks fly and they yell a lot. But oh those clever writers -- turns out they're just yelling because they're in love. Well they must love each other to the depths of their souls because there's a lot of yelling and fighting in this. It gets worse. The rich people are on the verge of losing everything. So, instead of getting jobs they decide to whore Joan out and force her to marry a rich guy. Anyway, it's all rather unpleasant and not the least bit funny. I didn't really like anybody and the romance was completely forced as Crawford and Aherne had no chemistry.

In a departure from her more common rags-to-riches melodramas, Crawford plays here an heiress who stumbles upon a handsome archaeologist, leading to a complicated courtship as their worlds collide. While on a lengthy cruise of the Greek islands, bored Crawford hires a donkey (in a scene that must be seen to be believed!) and tours Naxos on her own. Running to escape bandits, she happens upon an excavation where Aherne is unearthing a buried statue. The pair proceeds to needle one other with Crawford deceiving Aherne into believing she's just a poor secretary and Aherne punishing her for exaggerating an injury. Despite this rocky first meeting, they fall in love and Aherne crosses the Atlantic to see her again. Unfortunately, she's already betrothed to New York hotshot Keating in a match that will greatly aid her father Morgan. Morgan exists under the thumb of his domineering mother-in-law Ralph and has striven to break free by taking some risky investments. Only a marriage between Keating and Crawford can save him. So Crawford has a big decision to make, regardless of whether she can adapt to having Aherne, a society outcast, as a husband! Much maneuvering and flip-flopping occurs, with comedy both genuine and forced, until the resolution. Crawford begins the film with a refreshing naturalness and ease. She's quite game for the physical needs of the role and looks great (her hair even moves in the early sequences!) Later, she's done up in some utterly humongous eyelashes and an array of body-swallowing Adrian creations which, though they were the height of fantasy clothing for the era, are often ludicrous and even unflattering! Somehow, her later scenes just can't match the light touch she started out with near the beginning. Aherne (who in certain shots and at certain angles resembles Jude Law) is appealing most of the time and, while hardly a star of the same caliber as Crawford, holds his own rather well. He and Crawford establish a chemistry that makes the audience root for them to survive as a couple. One tremendous asset to the film is Morgan. His inimitable delivery and assured performance is a joy to behold. He forms an appealing bond with Crawford, while essaying the cantankerous persona he excelled at in his career. No one, however, can outgrump Ralph as the old lady. Before she even appears, her dictates, mandates and orders are bandied about and her portraits loom on the various walls of homes and offices. The woman has a field day running roughshod over everyone in sight. Many other fine character actors from MGM's heyday appear in support as well. There is an unevenness in the film and it may not have been Crawford's forte, but one could certainly do worse than to check out this glossy, amiable film. Fans of "Mommie Dearest" will get a bit of a thrill watching Crawford trash the better part of a dressing room with lamps flying and pottery being smashed to bits. Crawford and Aherne would be reunited, briefly, in the film "The Best of Everything" as long-term co-workers of a book publishing firm.

Talented writer (and later director) Joe Mankiewicz wrote a decent early screwball comedy script with I LIVE MY LIFE, one that in some ways anticipated the much better MY MAN GODFREY of a year later. It meanders a bit, is repetitious and ultimately tedious, but with Clark Gable and Myrna Loy it might have worked.Joan Crawford didn't have the light touch or resourcefulness needed to make the contrived comedy reversals of this story come to life. The result is that a movie whose script suggests a frothy romp becomes a very strained love story with failed comic overtones. Brian Aherne is tall, handsome, gallant and completely believable as an academic trying to learn how to unwind, rather like Cary Grant in BRINGING UP BABY three years later. Unlike Grant, he hadn't the gifts of comic timing or of charm -- there is something cranky and grudging about him, and maybe this kept him from becoming a star despite his good looks.But this was a Joan Crawford vehicle, it was tailored for her, and it was she who was expected to carry it. As usual, the broad, strong face is as striking as a Modigliani sculpture but less expressive. Adrian, the great MGM designer so closely associated with her, is largely responsible for providing the illusion of presence and magnetism which Crawford didn't actually have. In this picture he gives her one of her most extreme and frankly ludicrous costumes, and in upstaging her, it exposes the essential flaw in their professional relationship.Adrian had wit as a designer and his costumes here are all amusing comments on Crawford's character, but they expose rather than enhance her. The worst example seems meant to be a literal suit of armor since Crawford wears it in a scene in which her defensive, self-conscious character realizes she loves Aherne but must give him up in order to save her father from financial reversals. It's rendered in what looks like silver lame, with gigantic panels that fit over each shoulder, open on the sides but completely obscuring her arms from the front -- an armless Athena ready for battle. Less awful but still attention-getting are a series of black suits and dresses which are cluttered with enormous starched white collars and bibs or exploding swags of stiff material suggesting stylized nun's habits. In contrast, two simple costumes are far less theatrical but more effective in letting us examine Crawford: A backless, halter neck sailor suit is playful and sexy when she wears it without a bra in her first scene. And much later a starkly elegant white satin dressing gown proves to be more beautiful and glamorous than the two wedding gowns she also wears, the second of which uses tiers of orange blossoms to cover up damage her spoiled heiress has done to it. The two pared-down costumes at least allow us to observe the actress and woman for ourselves to decide what we think of her. Little was required of Crawford in this period and she gave very little in return. And we have to wonder if Adrian tried to hide this or was in fact the cause of it: Why should Crawford have learned to feel and act when her collars and sleeves upstaged her in every scene anyway?

MGM's desperation for new Crawford ventures wafts over this overstuffed and un-funny 1935 production. The gowns are beautiful, she looks fantastic ... but look for no chemistry between Crawford and Aherne. "Fun" and "silly" escape Crawford's abilities. Yes, she rides a runaway mule, slips down a hill, and falls on her backside ... but all done with a grimly painted on smile. Her discomfort spans the decades.