Showing posts with label Anna May Wong. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anna May Wong. Show all posts

Sunday, December 29, 2013

‘Island of Lost Souls’: Anna May Wong as the Panther Woman?

Although horror movies from the 1930s were the first kind of film that I really got into as a kid, my enthusiasm for them hasn’t withstood the test of time.  Today, they seem rather awkward, overblown, and unintentionally laughable.  Also, I’ve grown a little skeptical of a genre based on the idea that we must fear something, rather than understand it.  However, a few ’30s horror films still hold up. Rouben Mamoulian’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931) is one.  For different reasons, James Whale’s Bride of Frankenstein (1935) is another.  If I were to name a third, it would be Erle C. Kenton’s Island of Lost Souls (1932), based on the 1896 H.G. Wells novel The Island of Dr. Moreau.

Island of Lost Souls spins the speculative story of one of literature’s prototypical mad scientists, Dr. Moreau (Charles Laughton), on a remote island in the Pacific, transforming wild animals into humans, or each feral beast’s approximation of a human, through the dexterity of his scalpel.  By the time the story begins, Moreau’s isolated island is overrun with half-witted half-man/half-animal creations, which the surgeon, desperate to shield himself from the public eye, tenuously keeps in check with his bullwhip.  Complications arise when a seafarer (Richard Arlen) washes up on the shores of Moreau’s outpost.  The doctor tests his anthropomorphic abilities by introducing his most perfectly realized creation — Lota (Kathleen Burke), an apparently flawlessly formed woman whom he surgically shaped from a panther — to the castaway.  The film queasily implies that Moreau wants to test his transformative abilities by seeing if the human-like animal Lota can mate with the unsuspecting human newcomer, an occurrence which seems promising when Lota falls in love with him.  


Richard Arlen, Charles Laughton, and Kathleen Burke
in ‘Island of Lost Souls’

I like Island of Lost Souls, despite a few drawbacks, not the least of which, as others have noted, is the stilted central performance of Arlen as the square-jawed matinee-idol hero.  Also awkward is the staginess of some scenes, such as the Arlen character’s woodenly choreographed fistfight with a ship’s captain.  But none of this puts off the viewer because Island of Lost Souls seems to revel in its contrivance.  At first, the film’s decor looks a little too artificial, especially to eyes raised on shot-on-location, and everything else about the film, from its plot to its execution, looks equally contrived.  So, it’s hard to take the movie’s far-fetched premise at face value.  But gradually, the eerie artifice evokes a menacing mood that validates the story’s unsettling theme — where does the human end and the beast begin? — with an unnerving credibility.  Furthermore, Laughton as Dr. Moreau throws himself into the goings-on with such magnetic brio that he makes the bizarre twists in the story utterly engrossing and believable.  Is it possible for an actor to be understated and over the top at the same time?  And this mood of danger is enhanced by Karl Struss’s chiaroscuro cinematography.


Dr. Moreau orders one of his creations to do his bidding.

But I wanted to say something about Island of Lost Souls that many will, I’m sure, find absolutely irrelevant: I wish that the role of Lota, the Panther Woman, had been played by Anna May Wong.  No disrespect intended to any Kathleen Burke fans out there, but the Panther Woman would be a fun role in which to see the underutilized Chinese American star, who actually did some work for the film’s studio, Paramount, at the time.  Anna May Wong champions are probably shaking their heads in dismay at my suggestion.  Some exotic, saronged plaything for a leading man, they might say, is not the best kind of role for our Anna.  And they may be right. Still, AMW played worse roles. I’d rather see her claw the scenery as the Panther Woman than see her throw herself into the role of Fu Manchu’s female offspring in Daughter of the Dragon (1931).

Anna May Wong

At any rate, my comment is neither here nor there.  It would have been impractical for Paramount to have cast AMW in Island of Lost Souls, even if the studio had her under contract at the time (I’m not sure if it did, but it may have).  If Paramount had indeed cast Wong, the kiss between Arlen’s character and the Panther Woman would have had to go: kissing between the races was not allowed by the Production Code in the 1930s.

Kathleen Burke (left) and Anna May Wong

Also, AMW in the cast would have brought to the surface something buried within the story: Dr. Moreau’s creatures as stand-ins for the non-white races.  Island of Lost Souls is a thinly veiled cautionary tale about what might happen if minorities ever rose against the white whip-wielders of Western society. In this respect, the hero’s flirtation with the Panther Woman doesn’t so much evoke beastiality, as it does miscegenation — and several influential people in those pre-civil-rights days saw little difference between the two.  By casting the white actress Burke in the role, Paramount was able to keep this theme out of the viewer’s face and in the back of his mind.

Still, I can’t help but wonder how it might have looked to see Anna May Wong’s incandescent face and reed-thin arms atop the Panther Woman’s sarong.  I can’t help but wonder how she might have given the role more grace and gravity.  I also can’t help thinking about all of the other Anna May Wong movies that never came to be.  (Ironically, she did star in an unrelated 1939 movie with a similar title: Island of Lost Men, a revamped remake of the 1933 movie White Woman, another Laughton vehicle.)


Kathleen Burke as Lota the Panther Woman

Anyhow, don’t let my what-ifs ward you away.  If you watch only a handful of 1930s horror movies in your life, make sure that one of them is Island of Lost Souls.



Trailer for ‘Island of Lost Souls’



Originally printed at Amazon.com in 2005

Friday, November 4, 2011

‘Chu Chin Chow’: A Musical Museum-Piece

Oscar Ashe and Frederic Norton's musical retelling of “Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves,” Chu Chin Chow, made into a 1934 British film by Walter Forde, doesn’t withstand the test of time. If anything, the movie version of this 1916 London stage show — now available on DVD — illustrates how the musical has changed over the decades.  


In the years of Chu Chin Chow’s success, the musical comedy was a relatively undemanding form.  In both Britain and America, popular musical shows used rather thin, breezy plots that served primarily as a vehicle for the songs — pop hits which were expected to be sung in concerts and over the radio long after the show had finished its theatrical run.  So entrenched was this tradition of the musical theatre, that very few shows before World War II strove to develop more substantial stories, and those that did have become enduring classics to postwar audiences: Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein’s Show Boat (1927), George Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess (1935), and Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart’s Pal Joey (1940).  The stage musical that changed the form into one that regularly developed the story on a level equal to the songs was Rodgers and Hammerstein’s phenomenally successful Oklahoma! (1943).  Regrettably, Chu Chin Chow is not part of this more demanding evolution of the musical.  

Instead of employing its musical numbers to advance plot and character, Chu Chin Chow sings about rather arbitrary subjects not directly related to story progression, and then distracts the viewer with its Arabian Nights-style pageantry.  The musical’s lack of cohesiveness is exemplified by its very title.  If a narrative is titled Chu Chin Chow, after one of its characters, the audience would reasonably expect that character to be significant in some way, whether as the protagonist or as a thematic presence throughout the story (such as James Joyce’s Ulysses). But who is Chu Chin Chow?  He’s the murder victim of the musical’s main antagonist, Abu Hasan (Fritz Kortner), and whose identity the bad guy then adopts for only part of the narrative.  (I’m led to believe by the DVD’s supplemental materials that the character of Chu Chin Chow was somewhat larger in the stage show than in the film, but hardly more significant.)  Not only that, but the musical’s Chinese title misleadingly suggests that the story is set in East Asia, rather than in the Middle East.  This would be like Rodgers and Hammerstein titling their Oklahoma-set musical “South Philly.” 

Fritz Kortner and Anna May Wong in ‘Chu Chin Chow’ (1934)

When Chu Chin Chow was re-released in 1953, the film’s distributor chopped out all the musical numbers and rechristened it Ali Baba Nights (this truncated version is included on the DVD), a less deceptive title.  This should surprise no one.  With the arguable exception of the numbers sung between the romantic leads, Nur-al-din Baba (John Garrick) and Marjanah (Pearl Argyle), the songs are intrusions onto the story.  For example, “The Cobbler's Song” is a relatively long number given to a character whose function in the story is minimal; the song comes off as an extensive digression.  As for Ali Baba (George Robey), he’s given very few numbers, and his central showpiece, “Anytime’s Kissing Time,” is sung for polygamous reasons to a woman who is not his wife — not something that will endear him to the audience. 

In fact, the seemingly arbitrary use of non-germane songs by minor characters emphasizes Chu Chin Chow’s lack of focus.  What is the central narrative thread?  Who is the main character?  Is it Ali Baba?  He begins the film as its most active character but then grows rather inactive by its conclusion.  Is it Nur-al-din and Marjanah?  They play a major role in the climax but have comparatively little impact upon the story until then.  Is it Abu Hasan?  Although Kortner plays the role with over-the-top gusto, Hasan is a hard character to like, and the narrative is too light and airy to demand that the audience plumb the dark depths of identifying with a bad guy.  The movie’s razzle-dazzle Arabian Nights spectacle may distract us momentarily from these questions, but it can’t rescue a movie sadly in need of a stronger narrative arc. 

With all this going against the movie, the only reason to watch Chu Chin Chow is to behold Anna May Wong’s performance as Zahrat, the slave who begins as Hasan’s spy and lover, but who ends the story with different loyalties.  The movie is an all-too-rare chance to see the underutilized Chinese American actress in a prominent role, perhaps the film’s most important character.  But even Wong’s admirable efforts aren’t enough to reclaim Chu Chin Chow for the thoughtful viewer.  In keeping with the film’s flamboyant tone, Wong joins the other actors in chewing the scenery and otherwise exaggerating her emotions; this is disappointing because her best performances are wonders of subtlety and restraint.  Also, despite her centrality to the first half and climax of the movie, Wong spends much of the film’s second half off-screen.  Chu Chin Chow might have made for a more enduring tale if the narrative had made Zahrat the clear protagonist from the start and didn’t waste so much time on Ali Baba and the other characters, who only distract the rambling storyline with expendable tangents. 

As an uncommon chance to savor the screen presence of Anna May Wong in a lavish-for-its-time British musical extravaganza, Chu Chin Chow holds some modest rewards.  But the film is, first and foremost, an artifact of the kind of musical that stronger and more story-driven Broadway offerings surpassed long ago. 



DVD trailer for ‘Chu Chin Chow’


The above review was originally written for Amazon.com in 2004.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

‘Piccadilly’: Not a Backstage Musical

To say that German director E.A. DuPont’s British film Piccadilly (1929) is not a backstage musical carries a ring of the obvious. Piccadilly is clearly not a backstage musical, nor a musical of any kind — it’s a freakin’ silent movie, for Pete’s sake! Movie musicals came about because of the technological advancement of sound on film. Pointlessness would abound if a movie were to perform music and singing unheard by the audience. So, why bother putting the title Piccadilly and the phrase “backstage musical” in the same sentence? Because this particular movie subgenre throws a bright spotlight on this particular silent film.

What is Piccadilly’s story? Valentine Wilmot (Jameson Thomas, best known for playing Claudette Colbert’s jilted fiancĂ© in It Happened One Night) is the owner of a London nightclub whose star attraction is the dancing team of Mabel Greenfield (Gilda Grey) and Vic Smiles (Cyril Ritchard). Wilmot and Mabel are a couple, but Vic keeps making passes at her, which she rebuffs. One night at the club, during a performance by Mabel and Vic, a diner (Charles Laughton in a cameo) causes a commotion over a dirty plate. Investigating the cause himself, Wilmot inspects the club’s scullery and finds its workers watching another worker, a “Chinese girl” named Shosho (the captivating Anna May Wong), dancing atop a table. Angry over his workers lounging on the job, Wilmot sacks Shosho and gives the others a stern warning. Later, Wilmot discovers Vic trying to ravish Mabel, so he fires Vic as well. With Vic no longer in the act, the club’s profits plunge, so Wilmot thinks of a new attraction. Wilmot sends for Shosho and gets the idea of having her perform a “Chinese” dance at the club. When Mabel hears of this, she feels threatened, not only for her career but also because Wilmot seems to be growing more attracted to the increasingly assertive Shosho. Once timid around Jim (King Ho Chang), a Chinese man who lives in her block of flats in Limehouse (London’s Chinatown), Shosho begins bossing him around. Shosho is a hit as a dancer, and the club’s profits are back up. Mabel quarrels with Wilmot, and the two split up. A free man, Wilmot takes his new star attraction out on the town, but interracial couples are frowned upon, so Shosho takes Wilmot back to her flat and seduces him. Mabel has been shadowing them all this time — with a gun in her handbag. After Wilmot leaves Shosho, Mabel confronts her, and an alarmed Shosho catches sight of the gun. In the confusion that follows, Mabel passes out. When she recovers, she finds Shosho shot to death. Due to circumstantial evidence, Wilmot is put on trial for Shosho’s murder. But in the court’s mortuary, dying from a self-inflicted wound and saying that he and Shosho “belonged together,” Jim confesses to killing her.

If a filmmaker ever remade Piccadilly, I don’t think the story would stay intact. Why? The entire movie is motivated by the assumption — an illation which seems to permeate every frame — that racial mixing is a bad thing. To modern eyes, Piccadilly stands as a beautifully photographed cautionary tale against miscegenation and little more. As its story gets underway, the film carries a sense of foreboding that Wilmot, a white man, is beginning a downward trajectory when he leaves Mabel and takes up with Shosho. And after the first act, Shosho, an Asian woman, is portrayed as predatory towards Wilmot. The interracial couple is presumed to be a surefire magnet for tragedy. Nowadays, when movies with white male leads and Asian female love interests are practically a subgenre of their own (see the book Romance and the “Yellow Peril” by Gina Marchetti), Piccadilly appears as dated as a warning about Saddam Hussein’s nuclear weapons.

Of course, such a racist presumption shouldn’t be unexpected from a film that predates World War II and the civil-rights era. After all, this was a time of presumed white supremacism. This was a time when, for example, several films and stories told of miserable Eurasian characters whose lives were redeemed when they discovered that they were completely Caucasian after all (films such as Shame [1921] and Son of the Gods [1930]). In fact, virtually all of Anna May Wong’s most prominent roles were in films cautioning against the intermingling of the white and the “Oriental.” So, the fact that Piccadilly is yet another monitory movie touting sexual segregation — from an era in which sexual segregation was the norm — is nothing to write home about. Still, the film’s pejorative view of racial mixing also informs other aspects of the story and gives a tragic cast to situations that would be unproblematic today. And present-day eyes may view the film as an unnecessarily downbeat spin on what might otherwise be a story with a happy ending: Piccadilly is a frustrated backstage musical.

Piccadilly includes two dance numbers in its plot: Mabel and Vic’s jazzy jitterbug and Shosho’s hip-swaying pantomime, both floor shows for the nightclub. (Of course, since the film is silent, they aren’t really “numbers.”)  When Piccadilly was first released in February 1929, the movie musical wasn’t yet fully formed; the emerging genre was still in its experimental stages. So, the movie’s contemporary audiences wouldn’t have seen it in reference to musicals as an established kind of film. The idea of Piccadilly as a “frustrated backstage musical” is one that could only occur in retrospect. Also, the film is missing some important hallmarks of that particular subgenre. In her book The Hollywood Musical, Jane Feuer says that the plot of the typical backstage musical is about a romantic couple working behind the scenes of a stage production, and the ultimate success of the show analogizes the coming-together of the couple as committed romantic partners. So, since it doesn’t include any scenes of the rehearsals for either floor show, Piccadilly doesn’t meet this requirement of the subgenre either. However, the film makes use of one story trope most associated with the backstage musical: the tyro performer who gets her big break and becomes a stage star.

Sawyer, you listen to me, and you listen hard. Two hundred people, two hundred jobs, two hundred thousand dollars, five weeks of grind and blood and sweat depend upon you. It's the lives of all these people who've worked with you. You’ve got to go on, and you’ve got to give and give and give. They’ve got to like you. Got to. Do you understand? You can’t fall down. You can’t because your future’s in it, my future and everything all of us have is staked on you. All right, now I’m through, but you keep your feet on the ground and your head on those shoulders of yours and go out. And, Sawyer, you’re going out a youngster, but you’ve got to come back a star!

So goes the speech that Warner Baxter, as the show’s director, gives to Ruby Keeler, as the star-in-the-making, just before she goes on the stage. The scene is from 42nd Street (1933), perhaps the most prototypical of the showgirl-to-star backstage musicals. However, it’s a speech that Piccadilly’s Wilmot could have just as well given Shosho on the opening night of her dance. And Shosho does indeed become the success that Wilmot needs her to be, professionally eclipsing the club’s temperamental erstwhile star, Mabel, no less. The present-day viewer can imagine an alternate version of the tragic story, a version where the enthusiastic applause that Shosho elicits marks the hoped-for revival of the nightclub’s fortunes. And as the metaphorical curtain falls on Shosho’s and Wilmot’s triumph, the camera can fade out on a happy ending.



But Anna May Wong isn’t Ruby Keeler. In The Hollywood Musical, Feuer writes that the newly minted stage star “need not come from Iowa ... but she must have her roots in the provinces” — that means the white provinces. She need not come from Iowa, but she can’t come from Limehouse.

Also in her book, Feuer makes the distinction between “folk” culture, “popular” culture, and “mass” culture — each term marking a different relationship between performer and audience — and how they inform the genre of the musical. Folk culture means that there is no real difference between the performer and the audience: a community (however small) is singing to itself (a campfire song is one example), perhaps with the members taking turns. Popular culture is where the community separates itself into professional performers entertaining a live audience: a stage show, for instance. Mass culture is at a further remove because the performance isn’t live: such as films and recordings. The movie musical is itself an example of mass culture but sees its remoteness from the live audience as a potential for alienation. According to Feuer, the classical musical bridges its remove from the live audience and holds alienation at bay by privileging live performance, musical numbers that evoke folk culture and popular culture in order to distract from the film as a form of mass culture. Songs and dances performed in the story by regular folks (actually played by professional entertainers) and that bring a group or community together are one way that the movie musical tries to present itself as a form of folk culture. In musicals about professional entertainers, the genre extends the notion of a “folk” community to the live audiences within the films.

Feuer’s distinction is important because it signals what kinds of performances are valued by popular cinema and what kinds are not. Musical numbers that include the community (such as the live audience) are preferred to those that do not. For example, it explains why there are many musicals about professional entertainers who are stage performers but virtually no musicals about cinema performers. (Singin’ in the Rain [1952] is something of an exception to this, but it still does much to emphasize the live audience, and only one of its numbers is sung in the film within the film.)

Using Feuer’s distinctions, Piccadilly shows its preference to Mabel and Vic’s dance over Shosho’s. During their jazzy duet, the camera moves with the dancers and includes the audience in the frame. While it would be an exaggeration to say that they are involved in the dance, the mostly happy, mostly toe-tapping spectators create a celebratory environment, and Mabel and Vic’s jaunty jitterbug feels like an extension of that cheerful environment, reinforced by the camera’s swishing pan of the exuberant jazz musicians providing the music for their movements. As Feuer might say, Piccadilly presents Mabel and Vic’s dance as a kind of “folk” performance.

But Shosho’s pantomime dance is presented in another key entirely. Shosho performs a more solemn dance, relying more on arm and hip movements. She wears what the film says is an “authentic” Chinese costume, but it looks more like she’s wearing a Cambodian mokot on her head and an abbreviated, shoulder-horned breastplate above her bare legs, apparently an eroticized variation of a traditional Cambodian/Thai dance costume and not anything remotely Chinese. In contrast to the elaborate tracking camera movements that follow Mabel and Vic, the camera movements following Shosho’s dance are minimal panning shots. And most of the camera compositions are medium close-ups or full-body shots of Shosho and do not include the audience with her in the frame. But in those long shots that do show both her and the audience in the same frame, the space emphasizes the distance between the performer and the spectators, who watch her with frozen expressions on their unsmiling faces. Instead of a merry jazz band, Shosho is accompanied by a stone-faced group of Asian musicians (including Jim) performing on traditional Asian instruments and photographed with an unmoving camera. And the rotating mirror balls surrounding Shosho throw spots of light on the stock-still witnesses, as though the beams held back the audience. The pair of audience members who exchange unheard words about Shosho are an effete-looking man and a beefy, short-haired, monocled woman who smokes.




Where Mabel and Vic’s dance brings a microcosmic community together, Shosho’s dance reinforces the distance between performer and audience. Where Mabel and Vic impart joy to the nightclub patrons (except the quarrelsome diner Laughton), Shosho holds them silently rapt. Where Mabel and Vic’s most conspicuous audience members invite identification by the film viewers, Shosho’s most conspicuous audience members suggest an alienating gender ambiguity. While Mabel and Vic’s dance may be seen as a kind of uniting “folk” performance, Shosho’s stressed ethnic otherness portends the breakdown of the folk, of the ethnically “homogenous” community. Mabel and Vic’s performance prefigures the celebratory production numbers in the emergent musical genre, but Shosho’s dance is portrayed as an ominous intrusion into what musical production numbers usually celebrate: the unifying of a community. Seen from a modern-day distance, Shosho’s dance might have been every bit as celebratory and community-building as Mabel and Vic’s, but Piccadilly doesn’t present her pantomime that way. Why not? Because Shosho is the wrong race.

Since Piccadilly denies Shosho and her dance the positive connotations that the musicals to come would bestow upon their performers and performances (and indeed that Piccadilly presciently bestows upon Mabel and Vic’s dance), the 21st-century viewer may perceive this silent film’s absence of synchronous sound and music as a further denial of the positive associations of the classical musical genre, such as the upbeat characters and happily-ever-after endings of examples like 42nd Street and Singin’ in the Rain. To modern eyes and ears, Piccadilly’s muteness consigns Shosho to an aphonic realm of tragedy, a forcibly hushed domain of gloom and doom that the audible genre of the musical — with its inclusiveness, its communalism, and its sheer musicality — might have countered.

And if the viewer takes Feuer’s distinctions between “folk,” “popular,” and “mass” cultures to heart, one might even view Piccadilly’s pejorative portrayal of Shosho’s dance as an adulteration of its positive potential. The flashy accoutrements of the dance — its Orientalist trappings, its glinting set, the relatively vast space between Shosho and her audience, her laughably non-Chinese “Chinese” costume — come across as unnecessary and estranging add-ons to a performance with greater possibilities for connection, as superfluous distancing devices to attract a paying audience. In this way, the negative associations of Shosho’s floor show may be seen as a capitalist corruption of the one true “folk” performance in the film: Shosho’s table-top dance for her fellow scullery workers.


Shosho’s dance in Piccadilly