Sassmouthdames

Adela Rogers St Johns was a triple threat at the typewriter. She was a reporter, screenwriter, and novelist. In this episode, I talk about the time her boss, William Randolph Heart, asked her to debate the leader of a woman's club on the question 'Is the Modern Woman a Failure?' One of her best screenplays, The Red Kimona, from 1925, feels like a modern treatment of the 18th century sentimental novel, which taught women how to wise up to male seduction. I also compare her novel The Single Standard with the screen adaptation, starring Greta Garbo from 1929. Adela's long writing career, one of the most influential in American media, began when she was only a teenager and stretched into her eighties. She was a sass mouth dame for the ages.

Rene Clair's modern fable depicts Veronica Lake as a sass mouth dame who would no more wait for a man to make the first move than she would take a bus when she can fly on a broomstick. Forget Lake's noir femme fatales. She was born to be a comedian. Her bit of business with the matches in this picture never fails to be marvellous. I close the episode with an excerpt from an interview with Rene Clair.

Once the production code forced its hand and censored what sass mouth dames said on screen in 1934, subversive material popped up oddly enough in Hollywood musicals. Set in tune, women might complain about double standards, and they confessed their heart's desire. They could sing what they could not say. In Fox's lush colour extravaganza, Carmen gives voice to woman's sexual ecstasy with her song 'South American Way'. Betty Grable puts her fantasy into a melody for Don Ameche. Then she flies 6000 miles for a hook up. Down Argentine Way celebrates women's sexual agency.

Dr Jennifer O'Meara (@J_OMeara_), film lecturer from Trinity College Dublin, joins me to discuss a classic Hollywood tale about the pursuit of fame. Lana doesn't receive top-billing, but she should have. Sign us up for an alarm clock by way of perfume spritzer. Also, Adrian's costumes are a stand-out as both spectacle and a means of complementing character and plot. You can find Ziegfeld Girl online.

Good stories are made to be remade in Hollywood. Vincent Sherman updates The Letter (1929 and 1940) in context of the post-war divorce trend. Women like Eve Arden's character had their fill of sacrifice and home fires burning, and instead, filled proceedings and threw a cocktail party to celebrate. Eve Arden protects the ethos of woman's pictures amidst the noir and patriotic traditions. Instead of a husband, she chooses a cute roof-top flat with a view. I conclude with a short passage from Vincent Sherman's Studio Affairs: My Life as a Film Director.

Stereotypes about 'good' and 'bad' women are dismissed in Cabin in the Sky(1943) through stylish turns in costume and musical numbers. The all African-American production makes it possible to draw similar conclusions about racial stereotypes. Vincente Minnelli's directorial debut was a star vehicle for Lena Horne, but the picture also claims success through the nuanced performance of Ethel Waters. Ethel Waters plays a woman with a hotline to the lord as well as the ability to perform a nightclub song about female sexual desire. I close the episode with an excerpt from Lena by Lena Horne.

Marion Davies could have done this picture in her sleep, since she had plenty of experience onscreen playing a woman who has a makeover and wins the man she loves. After two grifters doctor a composite photo of leading studio glamour queens (Garbo, Harlow, Dietrich, and Francis), Marion assumes the role with less fuss than it took to apply her eyelashes. The supporting cast are the best from Warner Brothers. I close the episode with Marion talking about when she left MGM to make Page Miss Glory, her first picture with Warner Brothers.

Man-Proof could describe the women of MGM's lot who resisted the studio executive efforts to divide and conquer women with type-casting politics. This woman's picture is a standout because it gives Myrna Loy a chance to be bitchy and sullen, rather than playing the wife. And I say Glory Be to that. Also, Rosalind Russell's wedding veil is a design marvel. I end the episode with a passage from Myrna's memoir about when she asked for more money in her contract and they tried to humiliate her. She raised hell in response.

1932 was a banner year for platinum blondes, but none dazzled more than the ethereal glow Mae West cast with white hair, a lavish gown from Travis Banton, and dripping with her own diamonds. In her first screen role, Mae West wrote her own material and set the bar very high for sass mouth dames set loose in a nightclub. She's modern, funny, and a total sex bomb. I close the episode with an excerpt from her juicy autobiography 'Goodness Had Nothing to Do With It'.

More than any other actor in classic Hollywood, Jean Arthur showed audiences the inner workings of her moral compass When goodness flew out the window, Jean Arthur shines as a woman trying to do her level best. In this classic screwball comedy, Jean embodies the contradictions of modern life, playing a woman in a sable coat who can't afford the price of a good dinner. At the end, I read a brief passage from interviews with director Mitch Leisen and his right hand, Eleanor Broder.

Unfairly branded as one of the stars who couldn't make the transition to sound, Pola Negri was in desperate need of a hit when she went to Germany in 1935 to make the film. Pola delivered her greatest triumph in talking pictures, with a gut-wrenching performance of a singer on trial for killing a composer. Unfortunately, Jack Warner bought the rights and suppressed her film, so no one in Hollywood saw it. The episode concludes with a passage from Pola Negri's 'Memoirs of a Star'.

One of the most durable storylines in a woman's picture explores the search for a fresh start. Can women leave their past behind and start over? What happens when Baxter tries to move from being a madame in a brothel to a lady? Add in swoon merchant Rock Hudson, Julie Adams as a bitchy rich girl, and baby Natalie Wood and you have exquisite melodrama. I close the episode with an excerpt from Anne Baxter's smart and hilarious memoir 'Intermission', about the time when she left Hollywood to start over in the Australian Outback.

Lifelong friends, the rapport between Joan and Glenda translated to their onscreen work together in eight films. In five masterclass scenes, they become the ultimate tricksters, serving court summons to witless men who only see two hot blondes. I close the episode with an article Joan Blondell wrote in 1936, 'My Pal Glenda'.

Gloria Swanson was no stranger to ruthless men. She was crafty and figured out how to get permission for a banned production. Later, she fought the studio moguls who tried to stop her. Let it be said the bastards couldn't keep a good woman down. I close the episode with an excerpt from her memoir Swanson on Swanson, which tells the story of real conversion in Gloria's life, when she became an advocate of natural food for wellness.

For episode 20, I'm pleased to welcome my first guest, Matt Harris, an archivist and hardcore Joan Crawford fan (@Glamorous_Matt on Twitter). We disregard the lukewarm critical reception and celebrate one of Joan's best films from her tenure in Warner Bros. Anyone who insists on calling Joan too old for the part should remember her character's salvo 'You just wouldn't believe how much trouble it is to dispose of a dead elephant'.

Although she takes third billing, Mayo Methot shines as the true star of Vanity Street (1932). With the face of a Pre-Code angel, she runs the gamut from hard as nails to raw vulnerability. Gertrude Purcell’s riveting script illustrates how quickly fortunes turn when your name lights up Broadway. This picture—a true gem—doesn’t receive half as much attention as it should. The episode concludes with a passage from Bogart, by Ann Sperber and Eric Lax.

Instead of glass slippers and a poofy ball gown, Claudette Colbert receives a trunk full of glamorous clothes from her fairy godfather, played by John Barrymore. Charles Brackett and Billy Wilder offer a modern update to the classic Cinderella fairy tale. They replace the old standby wicked stepmother and evil spawn with a formidable high society adversary played by Mary Astor. Directed by Mitchell Leisen, it’s an outstanding pictures from one of the most celebrated years in Hollywood history. I close the episode with an excerpt from Mary Astor’s memoir A Life on Film.

Ava Gardner saves this picture. There's no question that without her, it would have gone down in the annals of cringeworthy productions. Forget about the Spanish Civil War and a bounty on priests. Instead, read this picture as an allegory for how Hollywood wasted her in simple sexy dame parts. At the end, I read a brief passage from Mearene Jordan's book Living with Miss G. Mearene lived with Ava for decades as her friend and personal assistant.

Joan Bennett demonstrates that ignoring a man can be as effective as having an expert sass mouth. Her natural champagne blonde hair suits the icy character she plays. George Raft exhibits more range here than in any other film of his career. He cracks jokes, sings, and tries to be worthy of Joan Bennett. I close the episode with an excerpt from Tay Garnett's memoir Light Your Torches and Pull Up Your Tights, which recalls the time when he was hired by Harry Cohn to direct the picture. This one is an overlooked gem.

Olivia de Havilland won her first Oscar for Best Actress in Mitchell Leisen's drama about unrequited mother love. Through attention to detail of the period and emotional finesse in underplay, the picture explores the way women carried on despite personal sacrifice. Olivia's performance has so much depth and nuance that she never renders the character as simply a noble cardboard cutout. The episode ends with a portion from an interview with de Havilland, Leisen and John Lund.