Herbert Marshall is another one of those names that will elicit blanks stares from most everyone today. When Turner Classic Movies (TCM) included him their lineup of featured stars in the 2014 edition of 'Summer Under the Stars," it was the first I'd heard of him, but after I saw a just few of those films, I became a big fan. Many will cite his fine, deep velvety baritone voice with the upper class British accent as his best asset, and perhaps rightly so. But given the right vehicle and quality direction, he was a compelling, strong screen presence with ability to portray so much more than the staid, suave, and often cuckolded gentleman roles into which he was typecast. I noted with distinct pleasure that TCM had scheduled a day of his rather obscure 1930s films tomorrow (Jan 19th), and I will be looking forward to watching the ones I haven't yet seen -- Make Way for A Lady, and Woman Against Womanon DVR, of course. In honor of Mr. Marshall, and in celebration of his recent turn on TCM, I was inspired to share my favorite five performances of his here.
Marshall was born in England in 1890 to a theatrical family, but came to the profession only after he gave up a career in accounting shortly after college. He then enlisted to fight in WWI and was a casualty of fighting in France, where he lost a leg (some reports say it was his right, but observing his movements closely, it seems to me it may be his left; he never really discussed it publicly). He resumed his acting career after a long convalescence and learning to walk with a prosthetic. He came to Hollywood in the early 1930s and rose to relative stardom with leading man roles as a free-lance actor who never signed a long term contract. Later in life he had numerous character roles and starred in many radio programs. He was known as a polite, charming, if not an attention-seeking personality. He had five marriages, and a somewhat scandalous romance with Gloria Swanson in the mid-1930s, which broke up his marriage to English actress Edna Best. He had two daughters, the first his daughter with Best, who became actress Sarah Marshall. He continued to work almost until the end of his life; he died at age 75 in 1966.
Here are five performances of his I've enjoyed the most, so far, in chronological order.
Jeanne Eagels as Leslie Crosbie
and Herbert Marshall as Geoff Hammond
1) The Letter(1929, D.: Jean de Limur)This is not the much more famous 1940 William Wyler film of the same Somerset Maugham novel, which Mr. Marshall also starred alongside Bette Davis. No, this early talkie was a pre-code version starring doomed actress Jeanne Eagels, and Marshall as the lover. (In the 1940 version, the lover was not an actual role on screen). This was a very early film role for Marshall, and he sinks his teeth into the few moments of screen time he has -- he comes across as a caustic, privileged young cad who is eager to move on from his dalliance with Mrs. Crosbie (Eagels). He does have a few moments of tenderness with his new lover, Lady Tsen Mei. I wasn't as impressed with Eagels, and thought Reginald Owen was one-dimensional as the husband, but it's interesting to watch in comparison to the later version; the ending, in particular is distinctly different.
Kay Francis, Herbert Marshall, and Miriam Hopkins
in Trouble in Paradise
2) Trouble in Paradise(1932, D.: Ernst Lubitsch) This sophisticated comedy is considered one of the best pre-code films and one of Lubitsch's best, as well. It's in my top five favorite films of all time; in fact, it may just be perfect. From the romantic love triangle, to the clever visual and verbal innuendo, some sight gags, terrific pacing, and spot on performances that were ever-so-slightly tongue-in-cheek, you absolutely cannot go wrong with this film. In the first example of Marshall's talent being brought to the fore by the skill of a good director, as jewel thief Gaston Monescu, he is perfectly understated, yet slyly comic here. He's more than handsome and charming enough to cause two gorgeous women (Kay Francis & Miriam Hopkins) to fall for him, believably so. His line readings are a delight. One of my favorite exchanges: Lily: "Who ARE you?" Gaston: "You know the man who walked into the Bank of Constantinople, and walked out with the Bank of Constantinople?" Lily: "Monescu!" Marshall worked for Lubitsch again in 1937's Angel, but that did not have nearly the same magic.
Marshall and Margaret Sullavan bond over coffee in The Good Fairy
3) The Good Fairy (1935, D.: William Wyler). Another comic role of a different kind came to Marshall in this William Wyler film, starring Margaret Sullavan in the "title" role. It's a screwball gem, scripted by soon-to-be director Preston Sturges -- if that provides context about the quality of the writing -- from the play by Ferenc Molnar. Marshall is a delight as a poor legal scholar who is too "honest" to be successful and becomes the unwitting beneficiary of Margaret Sullavan's 'good deed'. He is definitely NOT suave, and has a nervous habit of running a comb once or twice through his beard. He also has a hilarious solo scene in which he prattles excitedly about a new pencil sharpener (!). His chemistry with Sullavan is very strong, and the two make a very lovely couple. Frank Morgan and Reginald Owen are amusing as variations of their stock comic characters.
4. The Little Foxes (1941, D.: William Wyler). Another Wyler film -- he clearly was a terrific director for Marshall. This one was his second film with Bette Davis, and he played victimized husband Horace Giddens to her poisonous Regina Giddens in this adaptation of the Lillian Hellman play about a dysfunctional Southern family. The tone is mostly dark throughout, but it's a riveting production with good performances by the entire cast. Marshall, by turns warm and sympathetic, then angry and righteous, plays the role of a dying man so convincingly that you feel his pain almost viscerally. His subtlety as an actor is revealed when you know he wants to trust his family, but because he's smart, he cannot hide the growing realization of dishonest motives and crimes being perpetrated. Interestingly, Davis and Marshall had a warm relationship off-screen.
Davis & Marshall in The Little Foxes
5. High Wall(1947, D. Curtis Bernhardt). In this noir, Robert Taylor is a veteran with PTSD, employed by Marshall, who finds himself accused of murder. It's a psychological thriller as well, with Audrey Totter as the doctor who tries to help Taylor. In this one, Marshall shows his ability to be slimy, two-faced, and scary. It takes some questionable narrative turns, and I'm not enamored of Taylor's performance particularly, but it showcases the often underappreciated range of Marshall, who in my opinion, really steals the movie.
Don't miss him in the Alfred Hitchcock Presents episode "Little White Frock," or his appearance on the popular "What's My Line?" TV show in which, as the 'Mystery Guest, he gracefully responds to Dorothy Kilgallen's question as to whether he considers himself a 'character man,' with, "The day has come, yes." Video link is below.
Finally, for a greater appreciation of his fight to overcome his war injury, read this article published in 2014 by SAG-AFTRA, image below:
James Garner (left) as Wyatt Earp and Jason Robards as Doc Holliday in HOUR OF THE GUN
Doc Holliday: "I hear that the Chamber of Commerce has put up $20,000 reward money (for the Clanton gang)."
Wyatt Earp: "For arrest and conviction, not 'dead or alive.' Not your style, Doc."
Doc Holliday: "For that kind of money I can be as law-abiding as....you are."
It's fitting that in the summer in which I've devoted to watching and studying Westerns, I write my final post of the season on this late Western, when filmmakers have begun to deconstruct its vaunted heroes. In a few short years the genre would be almost entirely given over to the 'revisionist' or 'anti'-Western, in response to the Vietnam War and the political and societal disillusionment replacing what was typically glorification of American optimism and romanticism in the classic Western. In HOUR OF THE GUN, audiences are, at least on the surface, in familiar territory with Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, and their cohort, the historical western figures whose story had been told and retold throughout the 20th century. But we are clued in at once that this one will be a bit different: the film starts with the Earp cohort marching down a dusty main street toward the infamous OK Corral, punctuated with a pounding drum in the soundtrack. The legendary gunfight just initiates the action, and the film's narrative is all about what happens after.
Doomed members of the Clanton gang wait to meet Earp & Co.
For a legendary 1881 occurrence in Tombstone, Arizona that has been the subject of dozens of films and television episodes, it's hard to imagine a time when no one knew about Earp & Co. Yet the 'gunfight at OK Corral' had only become part of American lore in 1920, when the real Wyatt Earp, retired from his life as a lawman, began to hang around Hollywood and tell his story to anyone who would listen. Among others, John Ford listened. In fact, one of the best, albeit fictionalized, account of Wyatt Earp's adventures is John Ford's MY DARLING CLEMENTINE (1946) starring Henry Fonda. Fonda as an actor was an early inspiration for James Garner, when the two shared the stage in Garner's first professional acting appearance in The Caine Mutiny Court Martial. Speaking about Fonda in his memoir, Garner said, "I admired him so much I even mimicked him. In MY DARLING CLEMENTINE, he did a little seated two-step in place by leaning back in a chair and pushing off a post....I stole it for SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL SHERIFF! (Burt Kennedy, 1969).
When Garner made this film, he was already a big star, playing the leading role in the Western humor series 'Maverick', and in films such as DUEL AT DIABLO (1966). He had the experience of working with director John Sturges in THE GREAT ESCAPE. A full decade earlier Western specialist Sturges made the more conventional movie about the gunfight, unsurprisingly named GUNFIGHT AT THE OK CORRAL, starring Burt Lancaster as Wyatt Earp and Kirk Douglas as Doc Holliday. HOUR OF THE GUN was the sequel, and quite different in tone and theme. Garner jumped at the chance to work with Sturges again, and accepted the role without having read the script, and years later acknowledged it was a different sort of a Western. Here, Earp is a conflicted lawman who first must endure being put on trial for murder after the gunfight, supported by Ike Clanton, played by the inimitable Robert Ryan, in a unfortunately small role. Then when one brother is maimed and another murdered, he begins to step outside the law in an increasing vendetta on Clanton and his gang. The film narrative follows closely the pursuer and the pursued until the inevitable end -- Earp riding to new adventures and doomed Holliday left in a sanitarium.
Robert Ryan as Ike Clanton (seated) as a witness for the prosecution in Earp's trial
Garner is a steely presence here, embodying Earp with a quiet desperation without ever bending that backbone. To me, he is a more believable, and human, Earp than Lancaster, who seems a bit stiff, and blustery in the role in the earlier film. Garner does a good job with Edward Anhalt's script that asks us to look at our heroes more realistically, with motives not entirely pure or actions not always justifiable. Yet as good as Garner is, Jason Robards was just so much fun to watch in the showier role of Doc Holliday. He sunk his teeth into the scenery, staggered around the set, emitted witticisms and contributed wry humor to what is overall a dark picture. Apparently Robards off screen was not unlike Holliday. In his memoir Garner revealed that Robards enjoyed being on location in Mexico a bit too much (a local bar and whorehouse were implicated) and "was never on the set when you needed him." Sturges, however, knew where to find him, and one day, after another late appearance, dressed Robards down publicly, after which he improved his behavior.
In another departure from the classic Western formula, there are no women characters. Literally, none, among the credited cast. Does anyone know if there is another Western in the classic era without the good woman from back East, or the fallen woman who seeks redemption, or a noble native American woman to redeem the male hero? I'd be interested. The film is solid, and Garner and Robards are terrific, but the lack of development of the minor characters makes the narrative drag at times and I found it easy to lose track of who is pursuing whom. Lucien Ballard's cinematography is fine, and the soundtrack by Jerry Goldsmith has a perfectly-suited mournful, elegiac quality.
As an epilogue, I was reminded of a personal connection to this film from many years ago. As a Star Trek devotee I remember as a child watching, and being freaked out by, a rerun of the original series' third season episode called "Spectre of the Gun". This aired in 1968, one year after the movie, and the show's producers were inspired enough by the Sturges film to give their episode almost the same name. They succeeded in crafting a spooky, surreal retelling of the legendary gunfight in which the main crew of the Starship Enterprise are forced into embodying the Clanton gang against the ghosts of Earp and Holliday, thus facing mortal danger. This might be the creepiest presentation of the famous gunfight ever recorded -- watch the final few minutes here:
Don't forget to check out the others posts for the "Summer Under the Stars" blogathon, all conveniently collected here.
Sources:
James Garner, with Jon Winokur, The Garner Files, Simon & Schuster, 2001.
Richard Slotkin, Gunfighter Nation, Atheneum Press, 1992.
Herbert Marshall is another one of those names that will elicit blanks stares from most everyone today. When Turner Classic Movies (TCM) included him their lineup of featured stars in the 2014 edition of 'Summer Under the Stars," it was the first I'd heard of him, but after I saw a just few of those films, I became a big fan. Many will cite his fine, deep velvety baritone voice with the upper class British accent as his best asset, and perhaps rightly so. But given the right vehicle and quality direction, he was a compelling, strong screen presence with ability to portray so much more than the staid, suave, and often cuckolded gentleman roles into which he was typecast. I noted with distinct pleasure that TCM had scheduled a day of his rather obscure 1930s films tomorrow (Jan 19th), and I will be looking forward to watching the ones I haven't yet seen -- Make Way for A Lady, and Woman Against Woman on DVR, of course. In honor of Mr. Marshall, and in celebration of his recent turn on TCM, I was inspired to share my favorite five performances of his here. 
5. High Wall (1947, D. Curtis Bernhardt). In this noir, Robert Taylor is a veteran with PTSD, employed by Marshall, who finds himself accused of murder. It's a psychological thriller as well, with Audrey Totter as the doctor who tries to help Taylor. In this one, Marshall shows his ability to be slimy, two-faced, and scary. It takes some questionable narrative turns, and I'm not enamored of Taylor's performance particularly, but it showcases the often underappreciated range of Marshall, who in my opinion, really steals the movie. 
