After about 25 years to see this movie, especially because of its being George's only Best Actress nomination, I had expected some kind of imitation of MADAME X. (George, in fact, played that part at MGM the following year and gave the best performance of the role captured on film.) But, it's something a little different. The only similarity is in genre - mother-love and sacrifice - and melodramatic tone. An unabashed soaper to be sure, here, Carrie adopts two orphans and devotes the rest of her life to them. Carrie's "mysterious" past and reputation as a "bad woman," also connect it directly to the Madame X brand of women's films of the thirties, of which it is typical. Two key elements keep the film from transcending its genre. First, the contrived, overly melodramatic plot and sometimes forced bathos of Claude Binyon's screenplay, adapted from a novel by Barry Benefield, lacks dramatic logic and contains too much ambiguity; Binyon's screenplays were known for their tendency to be sensational yet mundane and derivative, and this film proves no exception. The end of the film is especially illogical in light of all that has come before: it's melodramatic grand-standing, yet it leaves you flat with its contrivances. Second, Wesley Ruggles's direction lacks pace and rhythm. The film drags when it should be crackling. Still, it has a moment or two of spark. And the production values are top-notch, the best that Paramount Pictures, where it was produced by Wesley Ruggles and Adolphe Zukor as head of production, had to offer.
Even though Gladys George was then under contract with MGM, Paramount certainly intended for this film to make her a big star. The ad-line for the movie went "You'll fall in love with Carrie!" I suppose they created all of this as a consolation for giving George's star-making Broadway role in GO WEST, YOUNG MAN (based on PERSONAL APPEARANCE) to their resident queen of the lot - Mae West. They certainly put some of their best talent behind her: Leo Tover photographed it with some early scenes verging on a noir look that he would later use in some of his forties' Paramount films; Ernst Fegte did the set design, and Hans Dreier, the man almost singularly responsible for the distinctive Paramount look during the studio's heyday, was responsible for the atmospheric art direction (with excellent interior design by A. E. Freudeman); and Travis Banton, the premiere designer for every Paramount diva, designed the costumes. This was definitely an "A" production. But its weaknesses kept it from becoming the hoped-for success.
Gladys George, however, rises above the film's weaknesses, but she isn't able to bring anything with her. She did, indeed, deserve her Oscar nomination. Here, she's defiant and strong, self-sufficient and self-reliant, fearless, and brave, a woman who knows her own mind and lives by her own values and morals. At the beginning of the film, it is only implied that Carrie Snyder is a prostitute: she lives by herself on the fringe of society, children are forbidden to enter her yard, she places a tall picket fence around her place, and her digs are pretty snazzy for the time. So, she must have been a darn good prostitute because she looks pretty successful. Oh, and the "good people" of the town despise this "bad" woman." They would like nothing better than to see her "run out of town on a rail!" - yes, that is actually said in the film. (See what I mean about the lame screenplay?) But Carrie could care less. She only decides to leave town finally because her reputation may harm the young boy she loves so much. After she does leave town, moreover, she becomes an even greater success in business (hints of TO EACH HIS OWN to come in 1946) and is able to adopt the boy (and a young girl who gets thrown into the mix) "spiritually," if not legally and raise them. Actually, VALIANT isn't the word for Carrie; rather, it should have been DEFIANT/SELF-RELIANT/INDEPENDENT/STRONG IS THE WORD FOR CARRIE. As the film progresses, George gets even better. The film indicates her maturity, her transition to wisdom based on hard, tough living (always relayed in her gruff voice) by changing her hair color from a brassy platinum blonde to a softer, more peaceful brown. George, however, implies all of these qualities through her face and eyes and the way she carries herself. She didn't need makeup. Her performance is naturalistic, realistic, and at moments, full of energy and dramatic electricity.
George doesn't always get the cooperation of her co-stars though. Ruggles is no help either: he doesn't seem to be able to inspire such mediocre talents as Arlene Judge and John Howard (so dull in THE PHILADELPHIA STORY [1940]). During one scene in which George tries to make Howard see the truth, which she does often throughout the movie, Tover had the good sense to film the entire scene over Howard's shoulder, focusing directly on George's face. I say Tover because I don't think that Ruggles saw the dramatic limitations in his younger actors. Therefore, George brings all of the dramatic importance and energy to the scene. Others in the film include Harry Carey, Isabel Jewell, and Hattie McDaniel (billed here as McDaniels), and they do well for themselves.
Despite the flaws of this film, it is a rewarding experience to see George in such a large role. (This would make a great double bill with her MADAME X.) And SHE never disappoints.
Even though Gladys George was then under contract with MGM, Paramount certainly intended for this film to make her a big star. The ad-line for the movie went "You'll fall in love with Carrie!" I suppose they created all of this as a consolation for giving George's star-making Broadway role in GO WEST, YOUNG MAN (based on PERSONAL APPEARANCE) to their resident queen of the lot - Mae West. They certainly put some of their best talent behind her: Leo Tover photographed it with some early scenes verging on a noir look that he would later use in some of his forties' Paramount films; Ernst Fegte did the set design, and Hans Dreier, the man almost singularly responsible for the distinctive Paramount look during the studio's heyday, was responsible for the atmospheric art direction (with excellent interior design by A. E. Freudeman); and Travis Banton, the premiere designer for every Paramount diva, designed the costumes. This was definitely an "A" production. But its weaknesses kept it from becoming the hoped-for success.
Gladys George, however, rises above the film's weaknesses, but she isn't able to bring anything with her. She did, indeed, deserve her Oscar nomination. Here, she's defiant and strong, self-sufficient and self-reliant, fearless, and brave, a woman who knows her own mind and lives by her own values and morals. At the beginning of the film, it is only implied that Carrie Snyder is a prostitute: she lives by herself on the fringe of society, children are forbidden to enter her yard, she places a tall picket fence around her place, and her digs are pretty snazzy for the time. So, she must have been a darn good prostitute because she looks pretty successful. Oh, and the "good people" of the town despise this "bad" woman." They would like nothing better than to see her "run out of town on a rail!" - yes, that is actually said in the film. (See what I mean about the lame screenplay?) But Carrie could care less. She only decides to leave town finally because her reputation may harm the young boy she loves so much. After she does leave town, moreover, she becomes an even greater success in business (hints of TO EACH HIS OWN to come in 1946) and is able to adopt the boy (and a young girl who gets thrown into the mix) "spiritually," if not legally and raise them. Actually, VALIANT isn't the word for Carrie; rather, it should have been DEFIANT/SELF-RELIANT/INDEPENDENT/STRONG IS THE WORD FOR CARRIE. As the film progresses, George gets even better. The film indicates her maturity, her transition to wisdom based on hard, tough living (always relayed in her gruff voice) by changing her hair color from a brassy platinum blonde to a softer, more peaceful brown. George, however, implies all of these qualities through her face and eyes and the way she carries herself. She didn't need makeup. Her performance is naturalistic, realistic, and at moments, full of energy and dramatic electricity.
George doesn't always get the cooperation of her co-stars though. Ruggles is no help either: he doesn't seem to be able to inspire such mediocre talents as Arlene Judge and John Howard (so dull in THE PHILADELPHIA STORY [1940]). During one scene in which George tries to make Howard see the truth, which she does often throughout the movie, Tover had the good sense to film the entire scene over Howard's shoulder, focusing directly on George's face. I say Tover because I don't think that Ruggles saw the dramatic limitations in his younger actors. Therefore, George brings all of the dramatic importance and energy to the scene. Others in the film include Harry Carey, Isabel Jewell, and Hattie McDaniel (billed here as McDaniels), and they do well for themselves.
Despite the flaws of this film, it is a rewarding experience to see George in such a large role. (This would make a great double bill with her MADAME X.) And SHE never disappoints.