Joan (Billie Dove), a novice aviatrix from a sheltered upbringing in the Nebraska heartland and Michael (Rod La Rocque), a feckless millionaire trying to escape the clutches of designing harpy, Viola (Gwen Lee), "meet cute" when she crashes her seaplane into his boat -- that's one plot point that didn't get repeated too often by Hollywood! Nor did the wild, opening scene of this film: soused, rich young people in speeding motor boats hitting a huge ball with sticks that look more like jousting lances back from when knighthood was in flower playing a very dangerous water polo game (though none of the participants seem to notice -- or care). Prohibition may be the law of the land but liquor is an ever-present lubricant of inhibitions for this circle of friends. At one point a party invitation advises the guests that the festivities will be held "from 8pm until blotto." All this may sound like the set-up for a serious moral drama - and you couldn't be more wrong. Although the film's director, George Fitzmaurice, is known for his many romantic dramas, this one is a comedy with a swift-running sense of merriment popping underneath the more serious aspects of the basic plot: a marriage of convenience between Michael and Joan to keep scheming Viola and her sponging brother, Skippy (Robert Schable), away from Michael's fortune. Of course love has a way of spoiling the best laid plans . . . and making the film lots of fun in the process.
Billie Dove, a former Ziegfeld Follies showgirl, well-known for her beauty in silent films, gets to show that off here plus a bit of acting range: first as the "good girl" who makes a bad bargain and then as a "bad girl", a flapper whose broken heart seeks revenge - or love - or maybe a bit of both; she keeps you guessing. In her second part-talkie (though I do not know if she was in any talking sequences in that previous film), Miss Dove's speaking voice is clear and natural-sounding, subtly emitting emotion that conveys her inner feelings. Rod La Rocque gives a good physical performance, brimming with exuberance but still seems to be finding his way when it comes to speaking. (It's his second talkie.) He enunciates well but at times his voice is devoid of the emotion the scene demands. It's not fatal; you still root for him to recognize the error he's made with Joan.
Long thought to be a lost film, the restoration of, "The Man and the Moment" (1929; directed by George Fitzmaurice, a part-talkie) was given its U.S. premiere at the George Eastman Museum's Dryden Theatre on January 5, 2016. A 35mm dupe negative nitrate print, without sound discs, was recently discovered at the Cineteca Italiana di Milano. After the Vitaphone discs with music, sound effects (a huge number as the movie unreels), and talking sequences were located at UCLA, the film was restored and first shown in Milan last year. The restoration process used resulted in something unusual: dialogue spoken as the inter-titles appeared on screen. As a gracious member of the Eastman Museum's Moving Image Department explained to me, this happened because the print used was intended for foreign distributors who would replace the English titles with the appropriate foreign language titles at the right point in the film. Had the restorers removed the titles, the sound discs would not have meshed up perfectly in sync with the images unless other footage - likely a black screen -- had been added which audiences would not have enjoyed. The restorers made the right call, in my opinion, even if it does seem initially strange. Actually it soon becomes intriguing as the written words and the spoken dialogue converge and diverge, often within seconds. Since the talking scenes are not too long, this doesn't prove a fatal distraction. Overall, it's a small price to pay to have this film back in the land of the living.
As sound became increasingly a part of the movies, filmmakers realized they had to develop additional film grammar so that the audience would understand what was going on. When Michael and Joan are at sea on his ship's deck enjoying a moonlight dinner, a song is heard on the soundtrack. No big deal now, but for viewers in 1929, not so. To help the audience accept the scene - my take on it at least -- the director fades in and out a couple of times with shots on land of a quartet playing instruments with someone singing. Needless to say the technique was soon deemed unnecessary but it's fascinating to see the transition from silent film to talkie evolving as we watch, even if this technique proved to be a dead end.
Not a missing masterpiece, this is a consistently entertaining little film with quirks for the film buff, smiles for fans of the stars, and fun for viewers who enjoy romantic comedies regardless of when it was made.
Billie Dove, a former Ziegfeld Follies showgirl, well-known for her beauty in silent films, gets to show that off here plus a bit of acting range: first as the "good girl" who makes a bad bargain and then as a "bad girl", a flapper whose broken heart seeks revenge - or love - or maybe a bit of both; she keeps you guessing. In her second part-talkie (though I do not know if she was in any talking sequences in that previous film), Miss Dove's speaking voice is clear and natural-sounding, subtly emitting emotion that conveys her inner feelings. Rod La Rocque gives a good physical performance, brimming with exuberance but still seems to be finding his way when it comes to speaking. (It's his second talkie.) He enunciates well but at times his voice is devoid of the emotion the scene demands. It's not fatal; you still root for him to recognize the error he's made with Joan.
Long thought to be a lost film, the restoration of, "The Man and the Moment" (1929; directed by George Fitzmaurice, a part-talkie) was given its U.S. premiere at the George Eastman Museum's Dryden Theatre on January 5, 2016. A 35mm dupe negative nitrate print, without sound discs, was recently discovered at the Cineteca Italiana di Milano. After the Vitaphone discs with music, sound effects (a huge number as the movie unreels), and talking sequences were located at UCLA, the film was restored and first shown in Milan last year. The restoration process used resulted in something unusual: dialogue spoken as the inter-titles appeared on screen. As a gracious member of the Eastman Museum's Moving Image Department explained to me, this happened because the print used was intended for foreign distributors who would replace the English titles with the appropriate foreign language titles at the right point in the film. Had the restorers removed the titles, the sound discs would not have meshed up perfectly in sync with the images unless other footage - likely a black screen -- had been added which audiences would not have enjoyed. The restorers made the right call, in my opinion, even if it does seem initially strange. Actually it soon becomes intriguing as the written words and the spoken dialogue converge and diverge, often within seconds. Since the talking scenes are not too long, this doesn't prove a fatal distraction. Overall, it's a small price to pay to have this film back in the land of the living.
As sound became increasingly a part of the movies, filmmakers realized they had to develop additional film grammar so that the audience would understand what was going on. When Michael and Joan are at sea on his ship's deck enjoying a moonlight dinner, a song is heard on the soundtrack. No big deal now, but for viewers in 1929, not so. To help the audience accept the scene - my take on it at least -- the director fades in and out a couple of times with shots on land of a quartet playing instruments with someone singing. Needless to say the technique was soon deemed unnecessary but it's fascinating to see the transition from silent film to talkie evolving as we watch, even if this technique proved to be a dead end.
Not a missing masterpiece, this is a consistently entertaining little film with quirks for the film buff, smiles for fans of the stars, and fun for viewers who enjoy romantic comedies regardless of when it was made.