Moviecut—Wild Girl

"Here was this bandit, a-strippin' these women..." "What?!?" "...of their jewelry." "Oh." The plot to this pre-Code western is a melodramatic mix of subplots, none of which are terribly satisfying, but there are a few things which made it mildly entertaining: The magnificent California redwoods in Sequoia National Park, where filming took place. The equally magnificent Joan Bennett, flitting about in tight shirts, skinny dipping, and finding love. She's divine. Don't read too much into the title though, it's salacious clearly to sell tickets, and the character is actually modest and virtuous. In fact, it's a little disappointing that the "tomboy" comfortable with climbing atop a moving stagecoach is wearing a dress after falling for a handsome stranger (Charles Farrell). Eugene Palette imitating agitated horses. Raoul Walsh's style of scenes ending with the film turning a page as it's rolling, a neat little effect. He also uses it after the opening credits, when the main actors introduce themselves. Ralph Bellamy's character having the grace to know that the young woman doesn't truly love him and then backing off, telling her she'll know when the right one comes along instead of being aggressive, which is so often seen in these films. The town prostitute (Minna Gombell) brazenly introducing herself as "I'm called a lot of names, by different men," and then later mocking the hypocrisy of the sheriff and the "Purity League" he represents, probably a clever dig at the Catholic League of Decency, who a couple of years later would finally succeed in getting the Production Code enforced. The notable way that for the two crimes committed, the sheriff and a posse capture the men and without any semblance of a trial by jury, take them off to be executed by hanging, and no one bats an eye over this process.

Trees are straight and strong the young Joan Bennett exclaims in the unique opening credits which introduces most of the characters of this atmospheric drama with a western feeling. Bennett has been pursued by nearly all of the men in her community, married and single, and has declared her love for none of them. But when Charles Farrell comes along and finds her skinny-dipping, a spark is felt. He's coming to town to seek revenge against a notorious bad man for abusing his sister and this results in him being sentenced to hanging along with the husband of Sarah Padden for stagecoach robbing. it's obvious that a lot of people in town had reasons to want to see the man Farrell is accused of killing dead, and that includes some of the men who wanted then it for themselves. They include gambler Ralph Bellamy (dressed all in black) and the slimy Irving Pichel. While slow-moving and a bit creaky, this is an enjoyable film if you allow yourself to get past its technical flaws. Eugene pallette is big-hearted and funny as Bennett's wealthy father who brings food to the poor and Louise Beavers, in an unbilled part, makes the most of her role as Bennett's loving companion. The outdoor setting, showing dear, bears and a gorgeous hooting owl, is nicely photographed. Fans of Joan Bennett will barely recognize her here although the toughness that she showed in later rolls is obviously present. Her voice hadn't yet deepened and she was still in her platinum blonde stage. While Bellamy's character appears to be a villain in the credits, he has a light-hearted attitude in general, as shown in his card game with a group of kids, and is eventually accepting of the fact that he'll never win Bennett. Of the supporting cast, Sarah Padden comes off the best as the tired wife of a bad man she can't escape. This is an intriguing pre-code film that may not quite stand the test of time but has elements that for fans of this era and the terriffic cast will make it quite memorable. The direction by rausch is top-notch and helps pull the film together.

Raoul Walsh tackles Bret Harte in this one. It's a natural for this usually muscular director with a vicious sense of humor; he was fond of repeating Jack Pickford's comment that his idea of light comedy was to burn down a whorehouse. Although he has fallen out of favor, Harte and Mark Twain were judged neck-and-neck for the two best writers to come out of the Old West. Harte's characters were not one-dimensional; he approached them as complex human beings with conflicting sets of emotions and self-justifications. As a result, this movie, derived from "Salomy Jane's Kiss" has a lot going for it. Add in the outdoor shooting among the redwoods around Mount Shasta and the lovely conceit of using frame wipes that freeze the frame and then make it look like a page being turned, and you have a beautiful motion picture. Unhappily, few of the performances are up to the visuals. Perhaps it was due to the fact that handling of sound outdoors was still pretty primitive and some of the performers are either unseasoned for the screen or still not out of the silent era and the line readings sound very stagey. Whatever the reasons, they act best when they are doing things, not saying things -- the hanging sequence is devastating. Even with that cavil, this is a wonderful picture. Everyone looks right and Joan Bennett is stunningly beautiful. If you get a chance to see it -- mine came with the 2012 Museum of Modern Art 'To Preserve and Project' festival -- take it.

An exceptionally rare pre-Code western-romance-comedy starring Joan Bennett, Charles Farrell, Ralph Bellamy, and Eugene Palette, and directed by the always-brash Raoul Walsh. Adapted from the Brete Harte short story 'Salomy Jane's Kiss' and filmed on location among majestic California redwoods, this film features a young blonde Joan Bennett as the titular "wild girl"—a nature-loving free-spirit who is wooed by many but who falls for an out-of-town stranger (Farrell). Made in 1932 before the Hayes Office Code was strictly in force, Wild Girl shuttles between romance, adventure, raucous comedy, and titillation (a skinny-dipping Bennett). The unusual opening credit sequence is one of the most memorable of the period. This film is full of rowdy fun -- highly recommended!

Trees are straight and strong the young Joan Bennett exclaims in the unique opening credits which introduces most of the characters of this atmospheric drama with a western feeling. Bennett has been pursued by nearly all of the men in her community, married and single, and has declared her love for none of them. But when Charles Farrell comes along and finds her skinny-dipping, a spark is felt. He's coming to town to seek revenge against a notorious bad man for abusing his sister and this results in him being sentenced to hanging along with the husband of Sarah Padden for stagecoach robbing. it's obvious that a lot of people in town had reasons to want to see the man Farrell is accused of killing dead, and that includes some of the men who wanted then it for themselves. They include gambler Ralph Bellamy (dressed all in black) and the slimy Irving Pichel. While slow-moving and a bit creaky, this is an enjoyable film if you allow yourself to get past its technical flaws. Eugene pallette is big-hearted and funny as Bennett's wealthy father who brings food to the poor and Louise Beavers, in an unbilled part, makes the most of her role as Bennett's loving companion. The outdoor setting, showing dear, bears and a gorgeous hooting owl, is nicely photographed. Fans of Joan Bennett will barely recognize her here although the toughness that she showed in later rolls is obviously present. Her voice hadn't yet deepened and she was still in her platinum blonde stage. While Bellamy's character appears to be a villain in the credits, he has a light-hearted attitude in general, as shown in his card game with a group of kids, and is eventually accepting of the fact that he'll never win Bennett. Of the supporting cast, Sarah Padden comes off the best as the tired wife of a bad man she can't escape. This is an intriguing pre-code film that may not quite stand the test of time but has elements that for fans of this era and the terriffic cast will make it quite memorable. The direction by rausch is top-notch and helps pull the film together.

"Here was this bandit, a-strippin' these women..." "What?!?" "...of their jewelry." "Oh." The plot to this pre-Code western is a melodramatic mix of subplots, none of which are terribly satisfying, but there are a few things which made it mildly entertaining: The magnificent California redwoods in Sequoia National Park, where filming took place. The equally magnificent Joan Bennett, flitting about in tight shirts, skinny dipping, and finding love. She's divine. Don't read too much into the title though, it's salacious clearly to sell tickets, and the character is actually modest and virtuous. In fact, it's a little disappointing that the "tomboy" comfortable with climbing atop a moving stagecoach is wearing a dress after falling for a handsome stranger (Charles Farrell). Eugene Palette imitating agitated horses. Raoul Walsh's style of scenes ending with the film turning a page as it's rolling, a neat little effect. He also uses it after the opening credits, when the main actors introduce themselves. Ralph Bellamy's character having the grace to know that the young woman doesn't truly love him and then backing off, telling her she'll know when the right one comes along instead of being aggressive, which is so often seen in these films. The town prostitute (Minna Gombell) brazenly introducing herself as "I'm called a lot of names, by different men," and then later mocking the hypocrisy of the sheriff and the "Purity League" he represents, probably a clever dig at the Catholic League of Decency, who a couple of years later would finally succeed in getting the Production Code enforced. The notable way that for the two crimes committed, the sheriff and a posse capture the men and without any semblance of a trial by jury, take them off to be executed by hanging, and no one bats an eye over this process.

Raoul Walsh tackles Bret Harte in this one. It's a natural for this usually muscular director with a vicious sense of humor; he was fond of repeating Jack Pickford's comment that his idea of light comedy was to burn down a whorehouse. Although he has fallen out of favor, Harte and Mark Twain were judged neck-and-neck for the two best writers to come out of the Old West. Harte's characters were not one-dimensional; he approached them as complex human beings with conflicting sets of emotions and self-justifications. As a result, this movie, derived from "Salomy Jane's Kiss" has a lot going for it. Add in the outdoor shooting among the redwoods around Mount Shasta and the lovely conceit of using frame wipes that freeze the frame and then make it look like a page being turned, and you have a beautiful motion picture. Unhappily, few of the performances are up to the visuals. Perhaps it was due to the fact that handling of sound outdoors was still pretty primitive and some of the performers are either unseasoned for the screen or still not out of the silent era and the line readings sound very stagey. Whatever the reasons, they act best when they are doing things, not saying things -- the hanging sequence is devastating. Even with that cavil, this is a wonderful picture. Everyone looks right and Joan Bennett is stunningly beautiful. If you get a chance to see it -- mine came with the 2012 Museum of Modern Art 'To Preserve and Project' festival -- take it.