Ex-Lady (1933)

• Directed by Robert Florey.

• Screenplay by David Boehm, story by Edith Fitzgerald and Robert Riskin.

• Bette Davis is Helen Bauer, a successful artist/illustrator whose work appears in books and on magazine covers. Helen is in a semi-long-term, semi-clandestinely carried out relationship with Don Peterson (Gene Raymond), who, to begin the film, expresses his desire to legitimize their relationship by getting married – commenting that by taking that step, he’d be gaining “the right” to be with Helen.

“What do you mean ‘right’?” asks Helen, in response. “I don’t like the word ‘right.'” She continues: “‘Right’ means something. No one has any ‘rights’ about me – except me.”

And that, folks, is Helen Bauer in a badass, feminist nutshell. (Please, Jesus, let her remain like this, and not go the way of fucking Alison Drake in FEMALE (1933).)

• A short while later, Helen (and – whoops! – Don) are visited by Helen’s conservative, displeasedly scandalized parents.

Helen: “Oh, don’t let’s get dramatic about this – don’t let’s start arguing. We’ve been all over this – I don’t believe what you believe, that’s all. I don’t want to get married.”

Papa Bauer (first name: Adolphe, played by Alphonse Ethier) outragedly argues: “You don’t want? You don’t want?! The whole world is wrong – you are right.”

…Um – yeah, Papa Bauer. That’s pretty much it. Fuck everyone else – your daughter’s an applause-worthy queen.

Here, I feel compelled to note, out of principle, that Helen’s mother (no first name is provided, because of course) is played by Bodil Rosing, who – because of the “old-fashioned” rudepants to whom she is wed – is allowed only two words (“Adolphe, maybe – “) in the scene, before being cut off and led – possessively and authoritatively – from the apartment. “Come!” shout-instructs Rudepants Adolphe, as he pushes her out the door.

Wow! Marriage is swell.

• “Funny part of it is,” reminisces Don over breakfast, “when we first met, when we first, uh…”

“Dash, dash, asterisk,” supplies Helen.

Baha! 1933, I love you!

(Don completes this thought by again propose-suggesting they get married.)

Helen: “I don’t want to be like my mother – a yes-woman for some man. I want to be a person, on my own. If I like to live a certain way, have a certain kind of furniture, or a certain kind of work, wear certain kind of clothes – I want to do it – and not have somebody tell me I ought to do something else!”

Oh my God. Helen is me. I am Helen.

PREACH, GIRLFRIEND!!! You are fucking killing it!!!

• “That’s what being married means. You must do what the other person wants – you must please them. Marriage means…oh, I’ve said it fifty times, Don – it’s dull,” says God-President Helen. “I’m not going to say it again. Toast?”

• “We have a different set of values – I don’t want babies.” — Helen, continuing to recite from My Personal Life Manifesto, verbatim.

“Oh, it isn’t just that – sure, I want to do good work – but it isn’t that. I want to stay young for awhile, have a good time, and not be dull and set. I don’t. Want. To be. A wife!”

Well, guess what – Dull-Face Don does want to be a husband, and peaces out of the relationship.

(We do not miss him.)

• Bette Davis delivers all of these lines with a sassy, lighthearted sparkle that is, yes, delightful to watch – but also makes us believe how genuinely Helen means what she’s saying. These words are not declared with any sort of overly theatrical grandeur – they’re said in the simple, off-handed way that people use when they’re speaking the truth.

I find this absolutely delicious.

• It takes exactly one day for Don to reconsider his ‘Marriage or nothing!’ stance-ultimatum and return to God-President Helen. “‘Must’ and ‘ought’ are out,” concedes Improving Don.

‘Huzzah!’ says we.

• Nooooooooooooooooo!

We must and ought to impeach God-President Helen, because she ends this evening by asking Don to marry her.

Agghhh!!! I’m dying! I’m melting! Why, Helen, WHYYY!

• As a partial silver lining, on the Petersons’ (slightly delayed) honeymoon trip to Havana, there is an expertly crafted sequence that nudges 1933 MovieWorld back into my good graces – in which Helen and Don flirt-canoodle over drinks, silently (or…perhaps ‘wordlessly’ is a better term, as there’s Cuban spice-music playing the whole time) watching a scantily clad dancer circle the space in front of their table. Exchanging scene-focus with the hot-stuff dancer, the pair reacts with increasingly intimate gestures of their…sentiment…for each other – culminating in the pair agreeing with their eyes to…move things off the dance floor, and we eventually see the two descend behind an opaque wall of brown wicker – while in the far background, the dancer continues to perform.

A clever, saucy idea for a scene – executed marvelously by the actors and cinematographer Tony Gaudio.

• Given the date, it seems entirely plausible that the Pekingese-ish dog that appears as Russian songstress Madam Goginskaya (Hedwiga Reicher)’s plus one to Hugo (Frank McHugh)’s fancy dinner party is the same puff ball that appears alongside Guy Kibbee in that all-time favorite shot of mine in GOLD DIGGERS OF 1933. How wonderful!

(PS: I’m 100% guessing at the spelling of “Goginskaya” – as Reicher is uncreditedly listed merely as “Vocalist at Dinner Party.”)

(PPS: Also present at this dinner party of Hugo’s is Everywhere Lately Ferdinand Gottschalk. Here, he plays Herbert Smith, who talks an awful lot about “boilers.”)

• Wow, so this Peggy woman (Kay Strozzi) is a tramp. Just because your husband is a bore what talks about boilers all the time, doesn’t mean you should attempt to flirt-theft someone else’s.

• By the way – Tony Gaudio sure as fuck knew how to photograph Bette Davis, didn’t he? That close-in shot of Helen staring Don ‘n’ Peggy the Cozy Couch Buddies down, smoking cigarette placed exquisitely over her shoulder is A+, Gold-Star stuff.

• Shit-for-Brains Don returns from his “Light in the Window” evening with Tramptress Peggy at 3 o’clock in the goddamn morning! And because he’s a shit-for-brains, he thinks Helen isn’t aware of the reason.

Surprise, the Donster! The artist formerly known as God-President Helen is definitely aware of the reason, and she’s gonna call you on it, like the glorious-ass independence-hero she once was (is?).

“Don, why are you lying?” Helen inquires, as she flips on the headboard lamp.

“Lying?” replies Shit-for-Brains Don, from his position at the dresser.

“Let’s have a showdown,” says God-President Helen, back in action.

(The calm, no-nonsense way in which Davis/Helen then explains to Don that she’s through and that tomorrow, she’s leaving him is beautiful, and I love Bette Davis for it. She’s not devastation-wobbling, she’s not throwing things, there are no tears – she’s just done, and is like, ‘Facts is facts, bro.’)

• “If I weren’t a wife, I wouldn’t be jealous.”

“I love you, darling – and I know you love me. Let’s be lovers again – let’s be separate people, and not try to be one.”

(It was Helen, in the bedroom, with the Reverse Proposal…)

(Also: what does it mean that by far the least convincing portion of Bette Davis’s performance is when Helen starts to cry, after Don agrees to the “arrangement” and leaves for the night, to obtain his own apartment? ‘Cause…I’d like it to mean that it’s a moment ill-fitting of Helen’s character, and Davis didn’t want to put in the effort to support it. Helen the Wise-‘n’-Collected is gonna bring out a tissue and sob? ‘Ew, no thank you, tank it.’)

• Hugo, regarding wife Iris: “Indifferent? I scorch. I burn. My heart…is like a volcano.”

Baha! Oh, Frank McHugh. I cannot for the life of me tell if this is supposed to be funny or not. What a blast-riot.

• The “Let’s not go out” scene – shot in extreme close-up – is stellar. Gaudio and Robert Florey…look at you!

• I also really enjoy the ‘Sneak out on Hugo, who’s too busy muttering about Iris and jousting (yes, jousting) to notice’ scene that follows…as well as the May 1933 Calendar Page scene soon after. Like the Havana Dance scene – it’s cleverly conceived and well-executed by the actors and Gaudio.

• Monroe Owsley is not great as Supposed-to-be-Rival-of-Don’s-But-Isn’t-on-Account-of-(Lack-of)-Chemistry Nick Malvyn. It’s a flat, zero-spark performance that – each time he’s onscreen – makes us ask, as an audience, ‘Why?’

Incidentally, here might be a good spot to note that this film is a loosely adapted remake of ILLICIT (1931), starring Barbara Stanwyck and James Rennie. As of this writing, I haven’t seen that movie – however, upon viewing the cast list and seeing Ricardo Cortez as the (presumed) ‘Nick’ character in that film…well, let’s just unsubtly say: ‘That’s the casting that should’ve occurred here’ and move on (because…poor Monroe Owsley).

(Did you know he passed away on the same day as Jean Harlow? Woof. Like I said: poor Monroe Owsley.)

• “I’ve always admired you, Helen. You’re beautiful. Not as beautiful as Iris, mind you – but you’re beautiful.” — Van (aka Hugo), after he escorts God-President Helen home.

I love this weird-ass character. What a fucking trip!

• The finale goes like this:

Don, regarding Nick: “He didn’t…?”

Helen shakes her head, then asks (regarding Trampstress Peggy the Re-Emerged): “You didn’t…?”

Don: “No, I ran down the street, looking for you.”

Helen: “And Van came to Nick’s – talk about an angel in disguise – and brought me home. And would you believe it, he propositioned me on the sidewalk.”

• “Darling, it may not be perfect, living together all the time, but – it hurts both ways, and this way it hurts less.” — Helen, suggesting that the Partners Peterson move back in as marrieds, for keeps.

(…And then there’s a creepy as FUCK voiceover that is not recognizable as Gene Raymond which says, in the dark, “Move over, sweetheart – your husband is here to stay,” as Don crawls in bed with God-President Helen……but we’re just gonna ignore that part?)

• Y’all, I enjoyed the hell out of this film. Not only was Bette Davis totally divine, and Tony Gaudio’s photography fantastic – this was, honest to God, the most adept and most compelling I’ve ever seen Gene Raymond be. Does Davis’s sparkle-sass ultimately outshine him? Sure – however, his performance is solidly wonderful, and I’m soundly impressed by that.

• Despite initially scaring the ever-living shit out of me with Helen’s Marriage Opinion 180° – this was not at all a repeat of the FEMALE (1933) MovieWorld Travesty. Here, the characters are given (and absolutely make the most of) the chance to explore and experiment with what suits them best – not only as a couple, but also as (explicitly stated!) individuals, which is refreshing and miraculous as hell.

This is a daringly layered storyline for 1933…or 1931, if you care to jump back to its ILLICIT origins.

• Wholeheartedly recommended, because – even with the messy-emotioned waffling – our girl God-President Helen was calling the goddamn shots, the entire fucking way.

1933, I love you again, you idiot.