Harry Beaumont (1888-1966) is not regarded today as a great cinematic auteur, and perhaps he shouldn’t be in terms of such matter as camera placement, shot composition, and so forth (and to be fair, he started directing back in the cinematic Dark Ages). But perhaps he ought to be given a second look at to WHAT he shot, the stories he told, for these seem to coalesce into a voice.
Originating in…
Joan Crawford in Our Dancing Daughters (Harry Beaumont, 1928)
Cast: Joan Crawford, Johnny Mack Brown, Nils Asther, Dorothy Sebastian, Anita Page, Kathlyn Williams, Edward R. Nugent, Dorothy Cumming, Huntley Gordon, Evelyn Hall, Sam De Grasse. Screenplay: Josephine Lovett; Marian Ainslee, Ruth Cummings (titles). Cinematography: George Barnes. Art direction: Cedric Gibbons. Film editing: William Hamilton. Music: William Axt.
Diana (Joan Crawford) is a Good Girl who people think is a Bad Girl because she likes to dance the Charleston on tabletops. Ann (Anita Page) is a Bad Girl posing as a Good Girl to try to land a rich husband. Beatrice (Dorothy Sebastian) is a Good Girl trying to hide the fact that she used to be a Bad Girl from Norman (Nils Asther), the man she has fallen in love with. And so it goes, as Ann steals Ben (Johnny Mack Brown) away from Diana, and Beatrice confesses her past sins to Norman, who marries her but doesn't really trust her. This romantic melodrama was a big hit that established Crawford as a star. She's lively and funny and dances a mean Charleston -- a far cry from the long-suffering shoulder-padded Crawford of Mildred Pierce (Michael Curtiz, 1945) and the melodramas of her middle age, though we can see a hint of the Crawford to come when she squares off against Page, using her big eyes and lipsticked mouth as formidable weapons. The movie is semi-silent: It has a synchronized music track with some forgettable songs and occasional sound effects like the ring of a telephone and the knock on a door, and once there's a spoken line from a bandleader: "Come on, Miss Diane, strut your stuff." But most of the dialogue is confined to intertitles that tell us Diana has asked a boy to dance ("Wouldst fling a hoof with me?") or that Freddie (Edward J. Nugent) has asked Ann if she wants a drink ("Lí'l hot baby want a cool li'l sip?"). The Jazz Age was probably never like this, even at its height, which was several years earlier, but there is fun to be had here. The story, such as it is, was by Josephine Lovett, and those title cards were the work of Marian Ainslee and Ruth Cummings, who give it a mildly feminist spin: Despite the slut-shaming, the film is solidly on the side of the rights of women to have a good time. Lovett's story and George Barnes's cinematography were considered for Oscars -- there were no official nominations this year -- but lost out.
“Our Dancing Daughters” is a great social commentary on the supposed morally superior people and those who decide to not play by the social norms of the time. We see a young Joan Crawford who expertly plays a young and wild women who lives life how we should, with fun. However, the man she loves marries another because she doesn’t seem promiscuous. That traditional girl ain’t all she cracks out to be by the end.
Another fun Peter Pan Goes Wrong moment from the other night. After Annie was electrocuted, they took her fairy wings off to give her breathing room and to get a better look at her. But when they took them off they handed the wings to Francis who handed them off to the next person. The next person being a man in the front row. The guy in the audience just kinda held them for a minute before Francis took them back. But the poor guy in the audience just did not know what to do with the wings
From left to right: Chris Leask as Max, Bianca Horn as Francis, Ellie Morris as Sandra, Henry Shields as Jonathan, Harry Kershaw as Chris, and Jonathan Sayer as himself
harry in the ppgw rehearsal video says "they don't know what they're doing." which seems to infer that he Has been in a show where people did know what they were doing. I believe that means Francis is a theatre major. In this essay I will–
Mary Astor and John Barrymore in Beau Brummel (Harry Beaumont, 1924)
Cast: John Barrymore, Mary Astor, Willard Louis, Carmel Myers, Irene Rich, Alec B. Francis, William Humphrey, Richard Tucker, George Beranger. Screenplay: Dorothy Farnum, based on a play by Clyde Fitch. Cinematography: David Abel. Film editing: Howard Bretherton
This slow, stagy, and occasionally cheesy-looking costume drama was the film that lured John Barrymore away from Broadway to Hollywood. It's about the rise and fall of George Bryan Brummel (usually spelled with two l's) in the court of the Prince of Wales, later Prince Regent and then George IV. Barrymore gets to load on the old age makeup -- which makes him look startlingly like his brother, Lionel -- as the film goes on. The supporting cast plays a gaggle of semihistorical figures who are mostly there for atmosphere; I was surprised, for example, to discover that the rather ordinary fellow (George Beranger) limping around in the background was supposed to be Lord Byron. None of the film's history can be trusted, of course, so there's really not much to be said about it other than that Barrymore chews the scenery with aplomb and that the 18-year-old Mary Astor is pleasant to look at.