Sassmouthdames

Barbara Stanwyck once told a reporter 'I hate whiners. You have to fight life and make it work for you'. When she yells blue murder at a man onscreen, it serves as an instant mood elevator and restores order to the universe. In The Gay Sisters, Stanwyck protects her sisters from a pack of men who wish to rob them of their land. Irving Rapper's picture blends comedy and drama for another standout picture in Stanwyck's long career. I close the episode with an excerpt from Victoria Wilson's extraordinary biography Steel True.

Mitchell Leisen’s Lady in the Dark (1944) may rate as one of the most troubled productions in Hollywood history, but none of the backstage drama translates to the finished picture. Ginger Rogers exhibits so much range in her role as a fashion magazine editor who has a psychological breakdown when she suddenly can’t make a decision. In the middle of her crisis, Ray Milland, as the head of advertising, lobs insults and competes for her job as the boss. Dream sequences include snappy dance numbers and out of this world costumes. I close Ep 13 reading interviews with cast and crew members collected by David Chierchetti in his book Mitchell Leisen: Hollywood Director.

What do you do when your lover sells you into the sex trade? If you are Kay Francis, you become ‘Spot White’ and learn how to use men to gain freedom. In Mandalay, from 1934, directed by Michael Curtiz, Kay Francis becomes ‘Spot White’ and develops coping strategies to survive the fate Ricardo Cortez consigned her to in the beginning, all while wearing exquisite designs by Orry-Kelly. A bad penny always turns up, and sure enough, she crosses paths with her inconstant lover. Ricardo Cortez receives his comeuppance, but this episode is spoiler-free. I finish with an excerpt from 'Kay Francis ‘I Can’t Wait to Be Forgotten’: Her Life on Film and Stage' by Scott O’Brien, which summarises the awful treatment she received from Warner Brothers at the end of her contract.

Marlene Dietrich, as glamorous Concha Perez, carries on the Pre-Code tradition of emptying men's pockets. In her last of seven pictures with von Sternberg, Marlene lives by her wits, beauty and charm to stay ten steps ahead of men. I close the episode reading from Marlene by Marlene Dietrich, about when she tried to turn her blue eyes black for the production.

After her father tossed her on the street, Anna Lucasta, played by Eartha Kitt, does her level best to survive a waterfront hellscape. When her family attempts a reunion to marry her off to a greenhorn with a fortune, Anna struggles with society's expectations and her own dream for love. I close the episode with an excerpt from Kitt's memoir 'Confessions of a Sex Kitten,' where she recalls first meeting co-star Sammy Davis Jr.

In this Gothic tale, Ida Lupino plays a housekeeper who manipulates the lady of the house, a former chorine played by Isobel Elsom, into letting her two 'eccentric' sisters stay for a prolonged visit. A large bread oven sits in the parlour like Chekhov's gun. This episode is spoiler-free. At the end, I read Ida Lupino's essay 'Me, Mother Directress' from the book Hollywood Directors 1941-1976, edited by Richard Koszarski, published in 1977.

In The Joyless Street (1925), Pabst overlaps the stories of three desperate women to highlight the post-war catastrophe in Vienna during 1921. In a climate of scarcity and exploitation, women are appraised and traded like any piece of meat in a butcher's shop. The director asks us to consider what value morality has when people starve. While the men speculate on stocks with reckless abandon, women worry about feeding the family and paying the bills. I close the episode with a brief passage from Garbo by Barry Paris.

Susan Hayward learns that fortunes turn on a dress. She makes her debut in New York City in a dress that screams 'Boise'. If not for stiff competition from Olivia de Havilland in The Heiress, Hayward would have won the Oscar for Best Actress in her stirring portrayal. I close the episode with a brief passage from Beverly Linet's bio Susan Hayward: Portrait of a Survivor.

Ann Dvorak plays a character who inherited her mother's bad reputation. On the run from the law, and down on her luck, she falls for a fast-talking reporter played by Lee Tracy. Molly Louvain side-steps a romantic triangle to present a woman who draws strength from forgiveness to do the right thing. I close the episode with a brief excerpt from Christina Rice's biography Ann Dvorak: Hollywood's Forgotten Rebel.

William Wyler's modern fairy tale charms viewers at every turn. Margaret Sullavan looks like a Dickensian waif but carries a deep woodsy voice that makes her a standout. I close the episode with an excerpt about their romance during production that led to nuptials, from Jan Herman's bio 'A Talent for Trouble: The Life of Hollywood's Most Acclaimed Director, William Wyler.'

Joan Crawford demonstrates how women can remain relevant in middle age through high standards and a champion work ethic. I discuss Torch Song (1953) and then read an excerpt from A Portrait of Joan: The Autobiography of Joan Crawford.

In a standout script from Anita Loos, Jean Harlow and Clark Gable play scam artists who fall in love and then separate when a plan goes sour. Loos shakes up the usual sexual competition between two women in film to create allies instead of rivals. Stay tuned at the end when I share choice excerpts from Today is Tonight, the novel Harlow wrote in 1933. It's smoking hot.

Lana Turner gives an outstanding performance in George Cukor's picture about a small-town girl who becomes a top model. But what happens after you get what you want? Ann Dvorak delivers an earth-shaking depiction as the ghost of modelling past. The episode closes with an excerpt from Turner's memoir about the production.

Miriam Hopkins stars in this elegant screwball classic. She plays a starving architect who falls for Joel McCrea. Miriam always let you know when her characters were gasping for it, and she could make a Peter Pan collar look as sexy as a silk bias-cut gown. I close the episode with an excerpt from Vincent Sherman's memoir where he talks about directing Miriam Hopkins and Bette Davis in Old Acquaintance (1943).