Blonde Venus (1932)

This makes the fifth collaboration of Marlene Dietrich and director Josef von Sternberg that I've seen. Ordinarily, I wouldn't watch it only a month and a half after the previous, but again, I'm prioritizing oldies in anticipation that they'll soon be hard to find.

When chemist Ned (Herbert Marshall) learns that his best hope to survive his radium poisoning is an expensive, multi-month treatment overseas, his wife Helen (Dietrich) resumes her nightclub singing career to help pay for it, with the titular stage name. Then she finds a more profitable method: dating rich patron Nick (Cary Grant), who advises her to quit the stage so she can properly look after her young son, Johnny (Dickie Moore). They plan to discontinue before Ned comes home, but he does so earlier than expected, discover's Helen's infidelity, and kicks her out. Refusing to surrender custody, she goes on the lam with Johnny, until she realizes how bad it is for all involved.

Dishonored (1931)

This movie has a lot of the same people involved as the next year's Shanghai Express. Maybe that's why it was recommended to me. At any rate, I moved it up in my queue because it probably won't be streaming anywhere soon.

In 1915 Vienna, Marie (Marlene Dietrich) has turned to prostitution to make ends meet after her husband died in the war. When the Austrian Secret Service chief (Gustav von Seyffertitz) overhears her declare that she fears neither life nor death, he tests her patriotism and then invites her to become a spy a la Mata Hari. In particular, she is to seduce suspected Russian mole Col. von Hindau (Warner Oland) until she can intercept his intel. His correspondent, Col. Kranau (Victor McLaglen), is a tougher nut to crack....

The Lost Patrol (1934)

When a pre-Code movie is a remake, that can mean only one thing: The original was silent. Quite an understandable move when there's plenty of inaudible gunfire. This particular remake is more popular than the original and reportedly inspired many knockoffs, but it's had a pretty mixed reception over the decades.

If there's a moral to the story, it's "Share important information with your team before heading into danger." In the first scene, a British WWI lieutenant gets gunned down in the desert by an unseen Arabian sniper. Since he had refused to tell anyone else in his patrol where they were going or why, the remaining 11 wander. When they find an oasis with a curiously abandoned fortress, they can only hope another British patrol will reach them before the snipers get them all.

One Hour with You (1932)

So much for my prediction that if I ever saw another Maurice Chevalier movie, it would be from late in his career. I seem to have a poor memory for such resolutions. Regardless, I had wanted a '30s picture on the unserious side, and that's just what I got.

In Paris, Andre (Chevalier) and Colette (Jeanette MacDonald) are such passionate spouses that everyone assumes they're unwed or at most newlywed. Enter Colette's friend Mitzi (Genevieve Tobin), whose husband Adolph (Charles Ruggles) rightly suspects her of infidelity. She falls for Andre right away and doesn't even care that he's married to her alleged best friend. As Andre's resolve weakens in the face of Mitzi's aggressive advances, Adolph turns his attention to Colette.

Design for Living (1933)

This disc came with Peter Ibbetson, which I skipped because I hadn't allotted enough time, it isn't the more popular of the two, and chasing a comedy immediately with a drama didn't feel right. Having a "double feature" on one DVD seems unpromising for the quality of both movies, but DfL is pretty highly rated and has several famous names attached, including director-producer Ernst Lubitsch.

George (Gary Cooper) and Tom (Fredric March) are friends and struggling artists -- a painter and playwright, respectively -- who nevertheless take a trip to Paris, where they happen to make the acquaintance of fellow American Gilda (Miriam Hopkins), an advertising artist with ideas to improve both men's works. Before long from the perspective of a 91-minute runtime, each man finds out that the other has been seeing Gilda on the sly. Neither wants to let her go, and she doesn't want to let either go, so the trio makes a "gentleman's agreement" to be a circle of platonic friends. This agreement becomes harder to keep when Tom finds enough success to take him out of the city....

Red-Headed Woman (1932)

I hadn't selected this on its own merits; it was simply on the same disc as Waterloo Bridge for being both from the same year and similarly risque. I considered skipping it altogether, but I could afford to kill another 79 minutes that night, and its ratings didn't look too bad. Besides, it featured a bigger name in the lead role.

If the title makes you think of negative stereotypes, that's probably the idea. Lil (Jean Harlow) is a social climber, but she climbs in a horizontal position, if you get my drift. I suppose it's more accurate to say "financial" rather than "social," because the aristocrats who know her game want nothing to do with her. She seduces quite a few men in the course of the story; the one with the most screentime is Bill (Chester Morris), a wealthy heir who wants to call it off before his wife (Leila Hyams) calls something else off, but Lil is too tenacious for his willpower.

Waterloo Bridge (1931)

This does not come up in searches as readily as its 1940 remake, which enjoys slightly higher ratings on average. Either I selected it by mistake, or I was more curious about the older version for being scandalous enough to call for a tamer telling under the Hays Code. That and I'd never seen a non-horror directed by James Whale.

While this is a war film in part, the titular bridge in London is not being guarded or taken by a focal platoon as I had assumed. Instead, it's where Roy (Douglass Montgomery), a young American soldier oddly in the Canadian Army, meets out-of-work chorus girl Myra (Mae Clarke) as they both help a stubborn old lady (Rita Carlyle) get to safety during a WWI air raid. The two spend time at Myra's run-down apartment until the all-clear signal. Roy falls in love with Myra and, concerned about his military assignment, proposes before long. She's rather fond of him, too, but tries to dissuade him from pursuing her because of her, well, more reliable source of income that she'd rather not divulge....

Shanghai Express (1932)

I hadn't seen a '30s picture in more than half a year. Incidentally, that one also depicted East Asians in a way that wouldn't fly today. But this one was far more esteemed in the West back in the day, nominated for Academy Best Picture, awarded Best Cinematography, and remade twice, with neither remake as successful.

Most of the story does indeed take place on a Chinese train, where more than half the shown passengers are international. Captain Harvey (Clive Brook), British military surgeon, is on his way to operate on the governor-general of Shanghai when he discovers his old flame on board: Madeline (Marlene Dietrich), who's since made a name for herself as "Shanghai Lily." This being pre-Code Dietrich, you can guess her reputation. They're still sorting out how to feel about each other when things go wrong for the train as a whole, thanks to the Chinese Civil War....

Underworld (1927)

Since my last silent viewing was a year and a half ago, I decided to give this priority. It would also help me get a better sense of director Josef von Sternberg, having seen four of his movies before. This was the surprise hit that formed his comeback and advanced a bunch of other careers, and Luis Buñuel named it his favorite flick overall.

An erudite yet drunken ex-lawyer (Clive Brook) expresses recognition of "Bull" Weed (George Bancroft) as the latter leaves a nighttime bank robbery. Bull threatens him, but the drunk declares himself "a Rolls Royce of silence," thereafter going by "Rolls Royce." Intrigued, Bull gives him a custodial job at a seedy bar and becomes fonder of him when he stands up to bully and Bull rival "Buck" Mulligan (Fred Kohler). After that, Rolls becomes an urbane butler of sorts for Bull, keeping his own hands clean while helping with the criminal ideas, at least when it stands to spell bad news for Buck. But Bull comes to realize that he shouldn't leave his moll "Feathers" (Evelyn Brent) alone with Rolls for long. And he's not at all sure that Feathers or Rolls will be there for him if he gets caught....

Wild Boys of the Road (1933)

Usually, when a DVD contains two feature films, I watch only the more popular one. In this case, the two films together run less than 150 minutes, and there are no extras to take up more time. Besides, WBotR has a solid IMDb rating in its own right, just a little below the other William Wellman '33 hit, Heroes for Sale.

Gas-siphoning high school pals Tommy and Eddie seem to be high on life, until they find out that their parents aren't making ends meet. They drop out and travel the country to look for employment, which isn't easy during the Depression. When they're not stowing away on freight trains, they're usually taking up residence with other teens in a place that was not meant for habitation. Their closest new acquaintance is Sally, who disguises herself as a boy.

Heroes for Sale (1933)

When you think of Hollywood fare in the early '30s, you're likely to think of musicals, romantic comedies, gangster flicks, and/or horrors. But a handful of dramas from that time rate a mention to this day, and for the most part, they do not pull punches. They mean to reflect a dreary era.

This story begins in World War I, where U.S. soldier Tom (Richard Barthelmess) nearly dies in battle. He comes home a morphine addict, and his mom dies while he's in an asylum. Things start to look up after he and neighbor Ruth (Loretta Young) fall in love and he finds success in the laundry business, but he hasn't counted on the company falling into less scrupulous hands, costing lots of jobs. And that's before the stock market crash....

Gold Diggers of 1933

Yeah, I don't even have to add the date in parentheses. Back then, musicals about stage productions were sickeningly common, and some titles had dates as the only way to distinguish them from others. This one, directed by Mervyn LeRoy, could be taken as a companion piece to Footlight Parade and/or 42nd Street, involving many of the same names in the same year.

What makes GDo1933 stand out, not just among musicals but among non-dramas at the time, is that it does not try to make the audience forget the Depression. Opening number "We're in the Money" gets interrupted due to the inability of the stage director (Ned Sparks) to pay bills. Soon after, three dancers -- amusingly named Carol King (Joan Blondell), Trixie (Aline McMahon), and Polly (Ruby Keeler) -- are sharing an apartment, hunger, and sporadic contact with frenemy Fay (Ginger Rogers). Fortunately, Polly's neighboring crush, undiscovered composer/pianist/singer Brad (Dick Powell), agrees to give not just his talent but considerable startup funds to the next show. Where did he get this money, and why does he insist on remaining a mystery? You can probably guess....

The Love Parade (1929)

I was a little surprised at my past self for selecting another early Maurice Chevalier musical, after I'd found Love Me Tonight forgettable and The Smiling Lieutenant, well, questionable in character behavior. To me, Chevalier was like Fred Astaire exchanging his dancing for a thick French accent, which makes him sound more distinctive but not more mellifluous. Nevertheless, The Love Parade called to me with its historical value: In an era full of musicals about music (e.g., The Broadway Melody), it was the first to have songs woven into the story, with characters basically singing some of their dialog to each other. I think all modern fans of musicals appreciate this shift.

It's something of a precursor to TSL in terms of plot, so it figures that Ernst Lubitsch directed both. Here Chevalier plays Count Alfred Renard of the fictitious nation of Sylvania. After playing homewrecker too many times in Paris, he must report to Queen Louise (Jeanette MacDonald in her film debut) for punishment. Tired of her staff's pressure to find a prince consort, Louise quickly warms to his suggestion of keeping a close watch on him at the palace. Guess she likes suave bad boys, because the two marry before long. But just as the ministers had feared, Alfred resents having no authority and basically nothing to do outside the bedroom, except make an occasional smiley appearance for the sake of Louise's reputation -- and, by overblown extension, the good of the country, which seems to matter less to him.

The Scarlet Empress (1934)

I had known next to nothing about Catherine the Great, and what I had learned of her was not from school. I couldn't have told you that she lived in the 18th century. I might not even have remembered that she ruled Russia. This alone was enough to justify my viewing, but it's not the only justification.

The film starts in her youth as German Princess Sophia and ends with her becoming the Russian empress. In adulthood, she is played by Marlene Dietrich. The focus lies primarily on her disenchanting arranged marriage to unhinged Grand Duke Peter (Sam Jaffe in his silver screen debut), her mother-in-law Empress Elizabeth Petrovna (Louise Dresser) demanding that she be fully dutiful and bear a son, and her unstable adulterous feelings toward Count Alexei (John Lodge). You may well imagine how the tension builds within the royal family -- and what happens after Elizabeth passes away.