Cagney is more than usually full of beans in this oneand for him that's really saying something. Unable to contain his energy and high spirits, he indulges in outrageous vocal mannerisms and looks half the time like he's on the verge of breaking into dance. Though (alas) he doesn't do any hoofing, he flaunts his amazing control of his body, darting and weaving through the role like a boxer in the ring. He gets to display the versatility of his talents as his character goes from crafty schemer to world-class chump, cynical operator to heart-broken lover. Explosive on screen, off screen Cagney was reported to be introverted, aloof and intense. Even in the midst of a zany performance like this one you can see a kind of quivering stillness at the heart of him.
Joan Blondell was the best love interest Cagney ever had. More than able to stand up to him, she brings out an unexpectedly tender and sexy side of his cocky, wound-up persona. Off-screen they adored each other, though they were never romantically involved, and their mutual fondness is abundantly evident in Blonde Crazy; indeed it's the best reason to watch the film. Blondell, with her appetizing chorus-girl looks, has a warm, open front but an inner reserve and caution. She's a girl who knows how to take care of herself: watch how she handles a lecherous Guy Kibbee, who tries to tempt her with a string of pearls. She breaks the necklace, and when he bends over to pick up the pieces she stuffs a handful of pearls down his pants, wallops him on the backside and scrams! Blondell, Cagney and everyone else involved seem to be having the time of their lives in this movie.
Cagney is Bert Harris, a bell-hop who keeps a scrapbook of successful confidence tricks and dreams of making his fortune as a con artist. Anne Roberts (Blondell) just wants a job as a chambermaid in his hotel, but Bert, who helps her get the job after getting an eyeful of her, talks her into joining forces with him and they set out for the big time. A number of confidence tricks are depicted with loving care, but despite the cleverness of the schemes these scenes are a little tedious. We just want to see more of Anne and Bert bickering. He keeps making passes at her and she keeps turning him down, but neither seems to hold it against the other. I tried to keep count of how many times Blondell slaps Cagney, but I lost track somewhere; in one scene Anne slaps Bert, then Bert's jealous girlfriend Peggy slaps Anne, Anne slaps her back, and finally Peggy slaps Bert for laughing. At another point, Anne gives Bert her brightest smile and says, "I can't go without letting you know how I care for you"SMACK. But their relationship deepens gradually, and by the time Anne announces that she's going to marry another man, your heart bleeds for Bert, the chiseler with the wandering eye. The final scene of Blonde Crazy is one of the few genuinely romantic moments of Cagney's career, as he gazes up at Blondell with shining, worshipful eyes.
Anne explains that she is marrying her Wall Street fiancé (Ray Milland) because he and his family are "a different kind of people. They care for music and art and that kind of thing." As soon as she says that, we know Milland is bad news; he turns out to be the louse of all time, not only embezzling money from his firm but setting Bert up to take the rap. Bert and Anne's criminal activities are practically virtuous by contrast, since the people they cheat are invariably despicable. Everyone in this movie, as Bert says, "has larceny in his heart." This is a typical Depression-era attitude: the rich and cultured are crooks, and hypocrites too. We're invited to admire the cleverness of "honest" swindlers and to revel in their ill-gotten gains.
But ultimately this isn't a movie about grifters so much as about two people whose hard-boiled, wised-up outlook almost prevents them from admitting their love for each other. They have good reason to be this way; they can't trust anybody. Con artists con fellow con artists, and the respectable turn out to be completely without decency. Life is a continuous game of one-upmanship, a contest to see who can laugh last. Anne and Bert turn out to be the only remotely worthy people in the movie, since at least they care about each other, though they don't understands their real feelings until they're in danger of losing the other. In the end, chivalry makes an unexpected comeback.
Joan Blondell was the best love interest Cagney ever had. More than able to stand up to him, she brings out an unexpectedly tender and sexy side of his cocky, wound-up persona. Off-screen they adored each other, though they were never romantically involved, and their mutual fondness is abundantly evident in Blonde Crazy; indeed it's the best reason to watch the film. Blondell, with her appetizing chorus-girl looks, has a warm, open front but an inner reserve and caution. She's a girl who knows how to take care of herself: watch how she handles a lecherous Guy Kibbee, who tries to tempt her with a string of pearls. She breaks the necklace, and when he bends over to pick up the pieces she stuffs a handful of pearls down his pants, wallops him on the backside and scrams! Blondell, Cagney and everyone else involved seem to be having the time of their lives in this movie.
Cagney is Bert Harris, a bell-hop who keeps a scrapbook of successful confidence tricks and dreams of making his fortune as a con artist. Anne Roberts (Blondell) just wants a job as a chambermaid in his hotel, but Bert, who helps her get the job after getting an eyeful of her, talks her into joining forces with him and they set out for the big time. A number of confidence tricks are depicted with loving care, but despite the cleverness of the schemes these scenes are a little tedious. We just want to see more of Anne and Bert bickering. He keeps making passes at her and she keeps turning him down, but neither seems to hold it against the other. I tried to keep count of how many times Blondell slaps Cagney, but I lost track somewhere; in one scene Anne slaps Bert, then Bert's jealous girlfriend Peggy slaps Anne, Anne slaps her back, and finally Peggy slaps Bert for laughing. At another point, Anne gives Bert her brightest smile and says, "I can't go without letting you know how I care for you"SMACK. But their relationship deepens gradually, and by the time Anne announces that she's going to marry another man, your heart bleeds for Bert, the chiseler with the wandering eye. The final scene of Blonde Crazy is one of the few genuinely romantic moments of Cagney's career, as he gazes up at Blondell with shining, worshipful eyes.
Anne explains that she is marrying her Wall Street fiancé (Ray Milland) because he and his family are "a different kind of people. They care for music and art and that kind of thing." As soon as she says that, we know Milland is bad news; he turns out to be the louse of all time, not only embezzling money from his firm but setting Bert up to take the rap. Bert and Anne's criminal activities are practically virtuous by contrast, since the people they cheat are invariably despicable. Everyone in this movie, as Bert says, "has larceny in his heart." This is a typical Depression-era attitude: the rich and cultured are crooks, and hypocrites too. We're invited to admire the cleverness of "honest" swindlers and to revel in their ill-gotten gains.
But ultimately this isn't a movie about grifters so much as about two people whose hard-boiled, wised-up outlook almost prevents them from admitting their love for each other. They have good reason to be this way; they can't trust anybody. Con artists con fellow con artists, and the respectable turn out to be completely without decency. Life is a continuous game of one-upmanship, a contest to see who can laugh last. Anne and Bert turn out to be the only remotely worthy people in the movie, since at least they care about each other, though they don't understands their real feelings until they're in danger of losing the other. In the end, chivalry makes an unexpected comeback.