Vogues of 1938

Vogues of 1938

D: Irving Cummings (1937); with Joan Bennett, Warner Baxter, Mischa Auer, Helen Vinson, Alan Mowbray, Jerome Cowan, Penny Singleton. This silly, contrived, and utterly outdated tale defies description or explanation. But it is a scream to watch, as the kaleidoscope of scenes unveil themselves in glorious early Technicolor. The lovely and stylish Bennett plays madcap heiress Wendy Van Klettering, on the eve of her marriage to a man she does not love, well-played by Mowbray. This "madcap heiress" business, common in the Twenties and Thirties, gets pretty hard to take as the decades roll by -- it was phony then, and it's especially phony now, harking back to a time when America was entranced by "The Upper Class." (Then there's that "madcap" business. How come we only hear about madcap heiresses? Why not madcap nurses or madcap streetwalkers?) This theatrical device, hackneyed already by the late Thirties, begs the viewer to suspend any thought of reality, and that suspension must occur or the next 90 minutes or so will be torture. From the delivery of her wedding gown (in a motorcade down Fifth Avenue, no less, in a ridiculously tiny box) to the closing fashion-show extravaganza, this movie can be excruciating or delightful, depending on your point of view. The heiress runs away, since that's what all madcap heiresses do, and gets a job at the House of Curson, a Fifth Avenue couture salon. She endears herself to Curson (Baxter), who has plenty on his mind already, with a Broadway show he's producing for his two-timing wife. The introduction of this branch of the plot allows for the insertion of a variety of musical interludes that are so unrelated they appear to be scrapped from other movies, but they are marvelous period pieces that dazzle the eye. Fashion piracy is another theme of the movie, and this piracy spells trouble for the House of Curson. Then the wife departs, leaving Curson with a mountain of debt and a faltering business. One thing leads to another, and everything works out okay (this is 1937). The film culminates in a spectacular fashion show utilizing the gorgeous Miss Bennett, and hundreds of others, against all of the fantastic sets that were left over from the Broadway show Curson was producing. While the movie occasionally drags, it is a time capsule revealing that a particular slice of America wanted to see movies like this -- or is it that this was more of the kind of product that movie studios wanted Americans to see? In any case it is sheer fantasy, spewing out delicious costumes and surreal musical numbers like it was a broken water main. The acting? Mischa Auer, as Curson's rival-turned-friend, is brilliant.