Yo-Ho-Hollywood!: TREASURE ISLAND (MGM 1934)

Robert Louis Stevenson’s  venerable 1883 adventure novel TREASURE ISLAND has been filmed over 50 times throughout the years, beginning with a 1918 silent version. There was a 1920 silent starring Charles Ogle (the original screen FRANKENSTEIN monster!) as that dastardly pirate Long John Silver, a 1972 adaptation with Orson Welles, a 1990 TV Movie headlined by Charlton Heston, and even a 1996 Muppet version! Most movie buffs cite Disney’s 1950 film as the definitive screen TREASURE ISLAND, with Bobby Driscoll as young Jim Hawkins and Robert Newton as Long John (and Newton would go on to star in the TV series LONG JOHN SILVER, practically making a career out of playing the infamous fictional buccaneer), but…

…a case can certainly be made for MGM’s star-studded 1934 interpretation of the story, teaming Wallace Beery and Jackie Cooper as Long John and Jim. This was the first talking TREASURE ISLAND, and the 3rd of 4 screen pairings  for Beery and Cooper, as likable (and unlikely!) a movie team as there even was. Though it’s not 100% faithful to the novel – and what film adaptation is? – it’s pretty damn close, and can stand on it’s own as a rousing pirate adventure.

One dark and stormy night, young Jim Hawkins (Cooper) and his widowed mom (Dorothy Peterson) are visited at their Admiral Benbow Inn by the mysterious drunken sailor Billy Bones, played to the hammy hilt by a scenery-chewing Lionel Barrymore . The rum-soaked Billy, travelling with a sea chest containing “pieces of eight, pearls as big as ostrich eggs, all the gold yer ‘eart can desire”, tells Jim to alert him if a “one-legged seafaring man” arrives. After being visited by pirate cronies Black Dog (Charles McNaughton) and the one-eyed Pew (William V. Mong), drunk Billy takes a tumble down the stairs, dead.

Curious Jim opens the chest, only to find it empty… except for a mapbook containing the location of Capt. Flint’s treasure on a Caribbean isle. Pew and his pirates storm the inn, and Jim and his mom are forced to flee, rescued by the straight-arrow Dr. Livesey (played by the straight-arrow Otto Kruger ), who  along with scatterbrained Squire Trewaleny (who else but Nigel Bruce? ) and Jim, hires the ship Hispaniola, under the command of stalwart Capt. Smollet (played by stalwart Judge Hardy himself, Lewis Stone ). Then that “one-legged seafaring man”, Long John Silver (Beery), talks his way into becoming the ship’s cook, filling the crew with his scurvy pirate cronies, and young Jim sets sail for the adventure of a lifetime…

The role of Long John Silver was custom made for the talents of Wallace Beery, Hollywood’s greatest lovable rogue, and young Jackie makes a spirited Jim Hawkins. The mismatched pair are always a delight to see together, with an unmatched screen chemistry. Offscreen, the grouchy Beery disliked Cooper, and the younger actor later accused Beery of constantly trying to steal scenes (and he was notorious for that!), but while the cameras were rolling, the two made movie magic together. Barrymore’s bit is brief but a lot of fun, and besides those mentioned earlier, vaudeville vet Chic Sale stands out as crazy hermit Ben Gunn, as does screen villain par excellence Douglass Dumbrille  as the murderous pirate Israel Hands.

TREASURE ISLAND has some pretty gruesome moments scattered through it, coming as it did at the tail end of the Pre-Code Era (Will Hays’ Hollywood do’s & don’ts went into effect a few weeks before the film’s release). Victor Fleming was one of MGM’s top directors, and he keeps a lively pace throughout the 105 minute running time, with nary a wasted scene. Fleming doesn’t get discussed a lot among film bloggers these days, but anybody with movies like THE VIRGINIAN, RED DUST , RECKLESS, CAPTAINS COURAGEOUS, THE WIZARD OF OZ, and GONE WITH THE freakin’ WIND on his resume must’ve known a thing or two about moviemaking!!

This was the first time I’d seen the 1934 TREASURE ISLAND, having been much more familiar with the 1950 Disney version. I wouldn’t dare try to pick between the two, so I’ll just say that both are fine films in their own rights, and leave it at that. But with sincerest apologies to Robert Newton, it’s pretty difficult not to choose Wallace Beery as the definitive screen Long John Silver!

Halloween Havoc!: Fredric March in DR. JEKYLL & MR. HYDE (Paramount 1931)

Robert Louis Stevenson’s DR. JEKYLL & MR. HYDE was first published in 1886, causing quite a stir in its day. The tale of man’s dark side was a huge hit, and over the years has been adapted on stage, radio, and numerous film and TV versions. John Barrymore (in the 1920 silent), Spencer Tracy (a lush 1941 MGM production), Boris Karloff (Meeting Abbott & Costello), Paul Massie (Hammer’s 1960 shocker), Jack Palance (Dan Curtis’ 1968 TV movie), and Kirk Douglas (a 1973 TV musical) are just a few actors who’ve sunk their teeth into the dual role. The best known is probably this 1931 horror film with Fredric March in an Oscar-winning turn as good Dr. Henry Jekyll and his evil counterpart, the snarling Mr. Hyde.

Unless you’ve been living in a cave the past 130 years, you’re familiar with the story, so let’s look at the performances of Fredric March and Miriam Hopkins. The incredibly handsome March as Jekyll (here pronounced JEE-kul) is a bastion of goodness, as we see in the opening POV shots where everyone smiles at him riding down the street in his carriage. Jekyll spends his free time working on the charity ward, comforting the ill and infirm, giving of himself to the less fortunate. Henry Jekyll is also the epitome of Victorian Era repression, striving to tamper down his baser instincts. He saves street prostitute Ivy from a beating, and treats her with care and compassion. She comes onto him, and Jekyll obviously struggles to remain restrained.

The love of his life, Muriel Carew (Rose Hobart), is a prim and proper maiden whose father wants the two to wait before being wed. Here March is staid, though frustrated at the thought of a long courtship. He’s like a gentleman in one of those drawing-room dramas, all googly-eyed and saccharine sweetness with Muriel, but trying to retain that stiff-upper-lip façade about it the whole thing.

Jekyll’s been experimenting with a new drug that will separate the two halves of his nature, bringing out only the finer, noble qualities and destroying the animalistic impulses. This backfires, and Mr. Hyde comes out in full, furious force. Where Jekyll was in control of his emotions, Hyde is the Id come to life. Here March (with an assist from Wally Westmore’s incredible makeup) rips off the veneer of morality and becomes an unbridled ball of energy, full of fury and lust. As Hyde, he’s a snarling, simian-like animal, leaping and bounding like a whirling dervish, without a thought for the welfare of others. He tracks down Ivy and asserts control over her in more ways than one, abusing her physically, mentally, and sexually, a really sick S&M/B&D relationship that inevitably ends with him murdering her, a scene that still manages to shock in its brutality. Whereas Jekyll appreciates beauty, Hyde only seeks to tear it down and destroy it. It’s a bravura performance by March, and his Oscar was well-deserved.

Miriam Hopkins  as Ivy is both sympathetic and pathetic. Her cockney accent doesn’t quite convince, but her acting as the poor, doomed Ivy sure does. She’s street-wise and sexually provocative, a free soul who knows the way to a man’s wallet is through her body. Ivy’s repulsed by Hyde’s ugly countenance, but she’s willing to take his money at first. It soon becomes apparent that Hyde wants more than just sex, he wants to completely control her mind, body, and spirit. Now she’s trapped in a nightmare of torture and living in constant fear, with no way out except death. Ivy goes from carefree working girl to tormented victim, and Hopkins’ transformation in the part is just as effective as March’s. If the Academy had a Supporting Actress Oscar back then, Miriam Hopkins would’ve been the hands-down winner that season.

Rouben Mamoulian’s innovative direction sets DR. JEKYLL & MR. HYDE apart from its early Universal horror counterparts. FRANKENSTEIN and to a greater extent DRACULA suffer from staginess, but JEKYLL & HYDE moves thanks to Mamoulian’s dynamic camera tricks. The opening POV shot brings things to life, and Mamoulian’s use of swipes, fade-outs, split screens, tracking shots, and dissolves lets the viewer known they’re watching a FILM, not a filmed stage play. The director’s use of the medium was widely praised, and deservedly so. Mamoulian made other all-time greats still watched and studied today: QUEEN CHRISTINA (with Greta Garbo in another take on duality), BECKY SHARP (the first feature shot in three-strip Technicolor), THE MARK OF ZORRO (with an energetic Tyrone Power), and his last, SILK STOCKINGS (Fred Astaire’s final musical). Cinematographer Karl Struss uses lighting to create two worlds, the brightness of Jekyll’s moralistic life in society and the bleakness of Hyde’s debauchery down in the slums. The Jekyll-to-Hyde transformations were groundbreaking back in 1931, but sadly don’t hold up well.  DR. JEKYLL & MR. HYDE is a classic of early horror, and compares favorably to the Universal nightmares of the era, even surpassing them on many levels. If you’re a lover of all things horror, put this one on your Halloween watch list.