What’s New in Old Movies: November 2024
Don Stradley
Howard Hawks’ Scarface (1932) is often overlooked by people more familiar with the 1983 remake starring Al Pacino. Yet it should be hailed as a standout of the 1930s crime movie boom, and for providing a blueprint for just about every gangland film to come. Perhaps most significant is Paul Muni’s performance as Tony Comante, a brutal pig of a gangster. In portraying the roughhewn Chicago crime boss, Muni bulls his way through Hawks’ moody, nighttime set pieces. To Comante, being a mob kingpin is no different than being the toughest kid in the playground.
Broadway legend Ben Hecht wrote the screenplay based on the novel by Armitage Trail, with several people going uncredited for their contributions. A myth attached to the movie claims Hecht was cornered one night at his hotel by some gentlemen working for the real “Scarface,” Al Capone. Hecht had to convince them the film was not about their boss but was only using his nickname on the marquee to draw customers. Considering Hecht was a Chicago newsman during Capone’s heyday, we could safely bet that Capone’s life informed at least some of the story, as well as Muni’s performance. Indeed, much of the storyline mirrors the rise of Capone from lowly mob gunman to notorious gang leader.
Muni had hesitated to take the role. He felt James Cagney and Edward G. Robinson had already done the best that could be done in the burgeoning crime genre. He doubted he could do better. “Muni was a great actor,” Hawks said many years later, “but not a great personality.” Regardless, Muni gave an unforgettable performance. Temperamental and immature, his Camonte is the epitome of the gangster as an overgrown child. The film earned a place in the the National Board of Review’s top 10 films of the year and was later selected for preservation by the National Film Registry. Still, Muni didn’t wish to repeat the role. After the film’s release, director Cecil B. DeMille offered Muni a part “just like Scarface.” Muni wired DeMille back immediately: “I’ve already done Scarface. Not interested.”
The new Scarface Blu-ray from Criterion is a double disc set, including a 4K restoration with an uncompressed monaural soundtrack, and several special features, including the infamous alternate ending, shot because the censors thought Tony Camonte got off too easily. The supporting cast includes George Raft, who didn’t mind playing gangsters, and Boris Karloff, who is gunned down in a bowling alley. (93 mins, available November 12.)
If Scarface represents the blood and thunder of the crime genre, M-G-M’s Thin Man series laid the foundation for a different type of movie. William Powell and Myrna Loy played Nick and Nora Charles, a wealthy married couple who, with the aid of their wire-haired terrier, solve murders in their upscale Manhattan neighborhood. Glamorous, unperturbed by the gravest situations, and surprisingly gutsy when they needed to be, Nick and Nora were a film couple for the ages. Even if you don’t care for murder mysteries, the Thin Man movies are enjoyable just for their period glitz and whip smart dialogue.
Powell had started his career playing snooty villains in the silent film era. But by the early 1930s he’d created a niche for himself as Philo Vance, a movie detective who solved crimes using his wits. Still, M-G-M considered Powell too old and strait-laced to play the martini-swilling Nick. The studio also had doubts about Loy as Nora. Having already established herself in movies as a sort of exotic sexpot, she was hardly a good fit for the role of Mrs. Charles. But since the film was just a small-budget quickie to be filmed in two weeks, the studio chiefs relented and looked the other way. Ironically, The Thin Man was a success, and Powell and Loy would forever be identified as the urbane Nick and Nora.
The Thin Man was based on a novel by Dashiell Hammett and directed by W.S. Van Dyke, one of the studio’s top directors. “We shot it in 16 days,” Van Dyke said of The Thin Man, “retakes and all. And that sweet smell of success was in every frame.” In his time, Van Dyke directed everything from musicals to historical dramas. His touches made The Thin Man special, mixing a kind of Agatha Christie “whodunit” with the snappy patter of Broadway, and the occasional comedy bit that was just short of slapstick. No wonder audiences loved it. It received four Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture, and spawned five sequels.
A new six-disc set from the Warner Archive Collection includes The Thin Man (1934) After the Thin Man (1936), Another Thin Man (1939), Shadow of the Thin Man (1941) Song of the Thin Man (1944), and The Thin Man Goes Home (1947). Each film has been painstakingly remastered and restored for Blu-ray, from 4K scans of the best existing preservation elements. Each feature is preceded by its original theatrical trailer, plus vintage short subjects and cartoons to help re-create the way movies were seen in that golden period. (Available Nov. 26)
The Talk of the Town (1942) is a whimsical comedy-drama that involves an escaped prisoner who has worked his way into a genteel setting. Cary Grant plays Leopold Dilg, who has been falsely charged with arson and murder. While on the lam, he hides out under an assumed name and does gardening work for his friend Nora (Jean Arthur). It just so happens that Nora has rented her home for the summer to a Harvard Law professor (Ronald Coleman), who wanted to spend his vacation writing a book but is soon involved in Dilg’s case.
The fast-talking comedy was directed by George Stevens (A Place in the Sun, Giant) and earned seven Oscar nominations, including nods for Best Picture and Best Screenplay. Columbia Pictures made The Talk of the Town during the studio’s heyday, when wartime audiences were looking for laughs. It has a bit of everything: romance, humor, some legal intrigue, and of course, Cary Grant. So many of Grant’s films from this period became classics that this one is sometimes forgotten. It is worth remembering. (Sony Pictures Home Entertainment, 4K Blu-ray, 118 mins, available Dec. 3)
From the cartoon rack: “I love my mom, my dad, and my brother, too, and the groovy way we get along…” That’s the opening line of the theme song from Wait Till Your Father Gets Home, a clever cartoon series that ran in syndication for two seasons (1972-1974), helmed by the legendary team of Joseph Barbara and William Hanna. It’s about Harry Boyle (voiced by Tom Bosley), the beleaguered suburban father of three who deals with weekly installments of civil rights issues, women’s liberation, hippies and flower power. Think The Flintstones meets All in the Family. Well, it’s better than that.
The Warner Archives has gathered all 48 episodes of this forgotten gem, presenting them in a new 4K restoration from the original camera negatives, with a few featurettes added. Some of the show’s special guest voices include Don Knotts and Phyllis Diller, which makes it automatically great. And listen for the great Jack Burns (Huh? Huh?) as Harry’s paranoid neighbor. (Available November 26.)
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