A Lost Lady

Barbara Stanwyck, the greatest actress never to have won an Oscar, is here unusually young and glamorous in a succession of ravishing Orry-Kelly creations as she is torn between staying faithful to nice but dull (although fabulously wealthy) husband Frank Morgan and dashing young blades Lyle Talbot and Ricardo Cortez.

It's unusual to see Ms Stanwyck adorning a Women's Picture at this stage in her career; slickly packaged in a grade A production by Warner Bros. rather as they would soon showcase Bette Davis. The original 1923 Willa Cather novel had been filmed with Irene Rich ten years earlier (sadly now lost), and after seeing this glossy travesty Ms Cather never allowed her work to be filmed again during her lifetime.

Barbara Stanwyck is young and a lovely as a woman whose fiancée is killed by an angry husband just before their wedding. Embittered, she retreats to the mountains and finds healing in the affections of Frank Morgan, who plays a wealthy attorney who falls in love with her.

Stanwyck marries him, though explains to poor Frank that she doesn't love him. Their bedrooms, therefore, are across the hall from one another. With money, social standing, beauty, and being married, which makes her unattainable, Stanwyck soon finds the men are crawling out of the woodwork, including a very young Lyle Talbot and Ricardo Cortez, who lands his plane on her lawn.

Morgan and Stanwyck are excellent and give the story a very touching quality. One scene struck me as a little odd, censorship wise: At the beginning of the film, Morgan rescues Stanwyck from a fall. The next day, he walks by her house and pokes his head in her bedroom to see how she's doing. She's in bed, recovering. He's invited in. The maid leaves the bedroom and closes the door.

Either I'm getting too old or my sensibility is too modern, but I found this scene peculiar for 1934. I'd love to know how this got past the code since there was a big argument about "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." An unmarried woman, in her pajamas, entertaining a gentleman caller in her bedroom. Oh, well.

While not being totally enamoured by the film's title (called 'Courageous' in my country, 'The Lost Lady' known elsewhere would have been far more suitable, and a title that doesn't really gel properly with the plot summary), the subject intrigued enough. Also have liked what has been seen of Alfred E Green's films and Barbara Stanwyck was to me and many others one of the best actresses of the golden age and gave many great performances. It was interesting to see Frank Morgan in an against type role.

A large part of me however was rather disappointed in 'Courageous'. Considering Stanwyck and Morgan's calibre, it should have been a much better film. Is that saying that 'Courageous' is bad? Of course not. It is very well made and acted in particular and starts off great. It is just a shame that it gets increasingly silly and melodramatic too early and ends underwhelmingly, am aware that these are potential traps fallen into a good deal in films at that time but still.

'Courageous' has a lot of great things, starting with the great acting and some of the cast playing against type. This is not one of Stanwyck's tough roles and requires her to be a little more subtle and sensitive, her performance here is very sincere and controlled, nothing feeling overdone or false. Morgan's role here is a dramatic one and a change from his usual eccentric ones, he understates beautifully and has affecting chemistry with Stanwyck (particularly towards the end). Am more familiar with Ricardo Cortez in villainous roles, so it was again interesting to see an in comparison softer side and he manages to give an as sympathetic as he can edge to a character who isn't that really. Rafaela Ottiano does a nice job too in her role.

It as a film is very well made. Beautifully and stylishly shot, atmospherically lit in a sometimes eerie way and with sumptuous sets and costuming. The music doesn't feel intrusive or overused and adds to and not over-emphasises the atmosphere. Green's direction has a lot of striking parts visually and he makes the first half of the film engaging. As indicated, 'Courageous' starts off well.

So it was unfortunate that the rest of the film wasn't as good. The melodrama gets into overload in the middle and it is very overwrought melodrama at that. Especially in the soap operatic Stanwyck and Cortez scenes where one still can taste the increasingly bitter suds after watching, not because of them but the writing. The writing is very sudsy and sometimes quite silly in their scenes and the brief attempts at levity are not amusing or needed, Willie Fung just doesn't fit and more at odds with everything else.

And then there is the ending. Too abrupt and too pat (almost like forgetting that the middle act didn't happen), not to mention subdued. That it was subdued though is admittedly preferable to the film getting more increasingly melodramatic than it already was, but it just felt anaemic. The waste of Lyle Talbot in a prominent role in the source material criminally reduced to practically nothing is unforgivable, as a result he is completely forgettable.

Summarising, watchable definitely but for a crew of this calibre this could have been a lot better. 5/10

No movie with the great Barbara Stanwyck is completely without interest, but there is little else to recommend this misbegotten movie. Willa Cather was so horrified at what had been done to her novel that she refused to sell any of her other books to the movies, and one can see why. The story, characterisations, time span, plot, and tone have all been changed, for the worse, in a trite Hollywood way. For example, the house in the book, which is a nice-size house whose distinction is the beautiful scenery around it, is here a huge mansion with the standard Thirties-mansion double-height curving staircase. Complex relationships in the novel are here so oversimplified as to be almost meaningless. The movie adheres to a post-Code morality, also very simple, good vs. bad, where the book was much more subtle and complex.

In what I think is the only case of this I have seen, Stanwyck has a different hairstle in every scene, which changes her appearance greatly. It makes you feel that trivial details like these, at the expense of consistency, are what most concerned the film-maker (Alfred Green-- who?).

When book author Willa Cather saw this film she immediately banned all adaptations of her work, screen or otherwise, and more than forty years passed before another was attempted. It is easy to see why once you compare her novel with this soapy love yarn -- there is practically no connection in story, or tone. I loved the cast in this picture and there were parts that moved even unsentimental me; it was nice to see Frank Morgan play a role so far from his most celebrated turn as the avuncular, but sexless Wizard of Oz. Here Morgan is a mature man that is used to holding his passions in check, but sets himself up in a situation that brings him disillusioned loneliness and self-doubt. Barbara Stanwyck is ravishing in every frame of the movie, and she has to be, as she's set up as being a girl so beautiful that no man can resist her. But then we have the scene with Barbara working in the garden in white high-heeled shoes and a bright, floral print dress and we begin to wonder -- "What's up with that?" Do we have to keep propping up this concept of her as perpetually dressed for a cocktail party in order reinforce this idea of her irresistible beauty? Lyle Talbot, God love him, puts his all into the minor part of Nial, and that's what got me interested in looking up Cather's book. Actually, Nial is the major character in the novel, so Talbot's reduced role is a demotion indeed. It can be an enjoyable picture if you concentrate on the performances and not worry about where the story is going; the pacing in the first half is swift, and builds interest. But if you look at it through the lens of somehow representing the work of Willa Cather, then this version of "A Lost Lady" falls flat on its ass. Apparently the now lost silent version was closer to its source.