3.20.2012

Warner Brothers' "Gift" to the masses?

At 6:15 yesterday morning, TCM aired the rarely-shown God's Gift to Women, a 1931 Frank Fay vehicle meant to showcase his appeal as a ladies' man. Whether this was done in seriousness or as a farce is difficult to discern, though I'd bet on the latter. Despite Warner Brothers' efforts to prime Fay as one of the biggest stars of the early '30s, Gift would signal the beginning of a downward slide. More on that in a bit...

Fade in to Paris, home to the Arc de Triomphe, the swanky Club Perroquet, and our leading man, an alleged descendant of Don Juan whose name is...Toto. [Cue the groans.] Numerous tables are passed along and set up in preparation for his arrival, anticipating accompaniment by several glamorous women. Most notable in the fracas is a bangless Louise Brooks, delightful as ever in spite of a thankless tenth billing. She enters the film with a sly turn over her shoulder, but is nearly smothered out of the frame by the arrival of Toto (Fay), Fifi (Joan Blondell), and the Sisters G. Perturbed by all of the ruckus is John Churchill (Charles Winninger), the standard curmudgeon, a disapproving father who "would rather have an alley in Rochester than all of the streets in Paris". [Whether he is referring to my home city or a different Rochester is up in the air.] In stark contrast, his daughter Diane (Laura La Plante) adores the Parisian nightlife. She spots Toto across the room, working his legendary charm all around the table, and she affirms that she's aware of his ways; she says that they're what "makes him interesting". Eventually, she catches his eye in return. He is dazzled, she is skeptical, but has a glimmer in her eye suggesting that she's ready and willing to challenge whatever doe-eyed hooey he sets forth. A game she is intent upon winning.

The music swells, and Diane, after some hesitation, takes to the dance floor, and Toto takes notice. He's "lost his heart again", according to Fifi. He sends a friend to make her acquaintance and dance with her, but when she refuses to meet him, he has one of the waiters turn off the lights briefly, with just enough time for Toto to switch places with his friend. Diane is by turns shocked, then pleased, but feigns disgust as a ruse. Toto takes the bait. He pursues her on the street the next day (presumably), and ends up bringing her to his home, albeit after getting his hand caught in her car door. He hints at marriage as she nurses him back to health, but she plays it coy. She softens to his advances during a charming tea-reading scene, but always keeps her wits about her. [Laura La Plante is a surprise saving grace in this film, her Midwestern roots shining through with every warm smile. I'm curious to see more of her work.]

Toto has a change of heart about his old ways, but his old ways won't leave him behind. He continues to be swarmed by women, if always by surprise. Diane, not entirely convinced of this turnaround, keeps herself out of the picture for the time being. Meanwhile, a preeminent doctor pays Toto a visit, but leaves him with a grim diagnosis. He is to experience no excitement of any kind; no parties, no women, zilch. One kiss could be fatal. The women learn the news, but are ignorant of the doctor's warning. One by one, they decide to sneak into his home and "nurse" him in their own special ways. Brooks, as Florine, gets the most screen time here, and with actual lines to boot. Ultimately, Fifi and Florine run into each other, and once Dagmar (Yola d'Avril) discovers them, a catfight breaks out. Seeing Toto in agony, trying to keep his heart rate down, the women remember their mission and turn to console him. An angry husband storms in and scares the women away. The doctor, in disbelief, offers to give Toto a second chance, but maintains his warning. Deciding that he wants to spend one last evening with Diane, he even goes so far as to pick out his own coffin, sure that he will indeed expire after they kiss. As luck would have it, he survives. Though it isn't so much due to luck after all...the doctor's "diagnosis" was another careful ruse on Diane's part, a test of Toto's faithfulness. The "funeral" is swiftly transformed into a wedding, and we get our happy ending.

Having read some IMDB reviews long before viewing the film, I was prepared to hate it. It wasn't terribly successful at the time of its release, even after a considerable makeover. The film was originally slated to be a musical, with songs performed by Frank Fay and the Sisters G. Fearing backlash against yet another musical film, the scenes were cut; the full film remained intact when screened in other countries, but it is currently unknown if any copies survive. While it's far from a classic, it isn't too bad. The writing is uneven but manages to get in a few zingers amidst some eye-rollers. Fay is tolerable, though I can understand why this was his final Warner Brothers picture. He was falling out of favor in Hollywood, just as his wife was on the rise: the beloved Barbara Stanwyck. Coupled with personal problems, his star would never burn brightly again. La Plante was perfectly natural and charming, a real pleasure to watch. Brooks, sadly, was largely background fodder. During the nightclub scene, she was seated in close proximity to one of the Sisters G, who sported the infamous glossy "black helmet" of Brooks' heyday. Another connection was with costar Margaret Livingston, who was Brooks' dubbed voice and body double in The Canary Murder Case after Brooks quit Paramount and defected to Europe. Her voice, rumored to not record well, sounds perfectly smooth and musical. Had Hollywood given her better opportunities, and had she not despised the cutthroat studio system (though I'm thankful that she did, honestly), she could have excelled in comedy roles. She was a fine actor opposite W.C. Fields in It's the Old Army Game, so it certainly could have been done. Despite not being given much to do, she is surely one of the few reasons anyone chooses to see this film. There are worse ways to spend an hour plus, but there are better films to see, particularly if you seek an effervescent Brook(s).

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