Title : She
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She
Computer issues have given me an excuse not to pay attention to the world of politics -- for a while. In the meantime, I bestow upon you the one thing that has cheered me up in recent days: The 1935 version of She, with Randolph Scott, Nigel Bruce, Helen Mack and Helen Gahagan in the title role. The greatest film ever made, or so it seems right now. (The spell should wear off in a few hours.)
At one time, the film was considered lost, until a print was found in a garage belonging to (of all people) Buster Keaton.
This was Gahagan's only film: She went into politics, taking up the cause of migrant workers. Richard Nixon defeated her in a senatorial campaign by smearing her as a commie. He called her "the Pink Lady," and she responded by dubbing him Tricky Dick, a nickname that stuck.
Nigel Bruce, a couple of years away from Watson-hood, isn't bad, even though he displays his usual tendency to end some of his lines. Prematurely. He actually gets to throw a few punches and even kills a dude during the "teetering rock" scene, accomplished in a single, unbroken shot. Scott dispatches more than a dozen attackes before we finally get a cut. Nowadays, a bravura shot of this sort is called a "oner;" this is one of the best early examples.
Scott's a little amorphous and ill-at-ease as the romantic adventurer. Eventually, he would find his truest self as a squinty-eyed, leather-faced Western star. The standout of the film is Helen Mack, a tiny waif so incredibly thin that one can't help wondering if she's getting enough to eat. (This movie was filmed during the Depression.) In her early scenes, her line readings are gloriously awful, but as the film progresses, she almost becomes another actress. The bitchy confrontations between Mack and Gahagan have to be seen to be believed.
And oh my god...THE SETS! And Gahagan's entrance! And the sacrificial dance sequence...! And Max Steiner's score!!!
(Seriously, it's a good score, probably Steiner's best. Did you know that Mahler was one of his teachers?)
Expect to laugh. It's impossible to watch this one without supplying your own MST3K commentary. And yet, like some other fantasy films of the 1930s, it creates a kind of trance effect, seducing you into the spirit of the thing. When high camp becomes this delirious, it attains a kind of profundity.
The ideal way to see this movie would be to find a time machine and transport yourself to the 1970s, where you can await a revival theater screening. The ideal audience would be 40% gay guys, 40% college-age hipsters, and 40% people doing shrooms. (Why don't the numbers add up? Because the three categories would overlap.)
If the current state of our country makes you despair, watch this movie. It explains everything.
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