MARY STEVENS M.D. - Blu-ray (Warner Bros. 1933) Warner Archive

In retrospect, it is fairly easy to see why the career of Kay Francis went nowhere fast. For the briefest wrinkle in time, roughly 1932 to 1936, Francis reigned as Warner Bros. most bankable female star. And although much of her toppling from this top spot has since been attributed to the arrival of grand dame, Bette Davis in 1932, the truth of the matter is the studio was never what you might call ‘forward thinking’ when it came to promoting its female stars. No, women in a Warner Bros. movie from this vintage were generally relegated to the molls, mums or sweethearts of the studio’s popular leading men. It stood to reason, as Jack L. Warner’s focus on ‘ripped from the headlines’ gangster fare left little ‘wiggle room’ for the slinky sect, other than to occasionally glam up the backdrop. So, it is perhaps saying even more of Kay Francis that, despite this general lack of interest in her sex, she managed, nevertheless, to briefly triumph and stand head-and-shoulders with the ole boy’s club already dinned on the backlot.

The Oklahoma-born Francis, however, was a very tough cookie and, at 5 feet/9 inches tall, something of an anomaly in a Hollywood used to glossy little dollies of a more diminutive physical stature.  Motivated by a messy little divorce when she was barely 17-years-old, Francis took to the stage to support herself, but quickly discovered she had a yen for acting, perennially cast as the shoot-from-the-hip secretary, impudent hussy, or other third and fourth billed walk-on. Nevertheless, Francis heeded Hollywood’s call for ‘go west – young man’, already begun to syphon off talent from Broadway. She signed with Paramount, and appeared alongside William Powell in 21 forgettable movies between 1930 and 1932. Then came Warner Bros. Director, Lloyd Bacon’s Mary Stevens M.D. (1933) catches Stevens on the upswing at her new alma mater - alas, cast as a doctor who encounters animosity and skepticism because of her sex. Doctors are men. Nurses are women.  The Rian James/Robert Lord screenplay, virtually disposable in every way, wastes no time establishing this monumental hurdle a woman devoted to her career faced in 1933. Arriving at the frantic pleas of Tony (character actor, Harold Huber doing a stock Italian stereotype – think Chico Marx without the comedy), Mary is basically threatened by this beefy bull to back off from attending his wife (Inez Palange) who is having a very bad time of her pregnancy. Perhaps, Tony’s fear is moderately justified. The couple’s first attempt at having a child ended in a stillborn birth. But wasn’t the culprit of that earlier delivery a man?!?

Mary Stevens M.D. plays rather fast and loose with its extremely forgettable plot. There isn’t much going on here except the comings and goings of Francis’ no-nonsense physician, stuck on friend and fellow colleague, Don Andrews (handsome, if otherwise throwaway Lyle Talbot). In flashback, we witness Stevens and Andrews graduating from medical school together, setting up their respective medical offices in the same building. While Don indulges in his proclivity for dynamic young things and strong drink, enjoying the privileges of being an amiable stud, Mary works like hell to build her reputation, despite the incongruous prejudice from many patients refusing to be treated by a woman. Don latches onto Lois Cavanaugh (Thelma Todd), from money and influence and begins to neglect his practice. Despite Mary's affection for Don, he enterprisingly weds Lois, then relocates to a new office catering to a higher class of clientele. Don’s philanthropy extends to Mary with the bequest of a new office for her right across the hall from his; the two physicians attended by smart and funny Nurse Glenda (Glenda Farrell). Alas, being a dapper ‘Don’ – the strain on his finances eventually forces him to steal from the practice. Meanwhile, Mary cannot shed herself of the residual love she feels for Don. This curdles into jealousy and, later, mistrust, driving a wedge between the two old cohorts.

From this momentous moment of sexual frustration, the James/Lord screenplay descends into thoroughly maudlin treacle. Break out the violins, folks. As we advance two years into the future, Mary, now one of the most renowned physicians in the city, elects to take a much-needed respite to regain her equilibrium. Alas, who does she encounter on her travels but Don, presently on the lam from authorities. Don compounds his idiocy here by having an affair with Mary, despite still being married to Lois. Guess how this one turns out? Yep, Mary finds herself pregnant with his child, keeping it a secret from Don until she can sort everything out in her own good time. Meanwhile, Lois’ father, Walter (Charles Wilson) uses all of his clout and mob money to garner a reprieve for his wayward son-in-law, determined to keep the family name out of the scandal sheets, but only if Don agrees not to divorce his daughter for at least 6 months. Mary sets sail for home. Alas, aboard the S.S. Bellacona, a plague of polio breaks out, to afflict several small children, including her newborn infant. The child tragically dies before the ship docks into port. Seeing no way out of her misery, a distraught Mary plots suicide, but instead takes comfort in restoring to health another child. Having realigned her moral compass in recognition of the rare gifts she has to share with the world, Mary goes forth with confidence, reuniting with Don whom she will – presumably – and eventually marry.  

Mary Stevens M.D. is such a pedestrian affair it barely rates a mention. Certainly, when viewed today, it ranks very far down from the ‘classic’ status of better movies made by Francis at Warner Bros. – even more so when one stops to consider this one as a very early entre from producer extraordinaire, Hal B. Wallis – whose formidable spate of memorable classics needs no introduction herein. Francis’ performance is the one saving grace of Mary Stevens M.D., exorcising both modesty and misery. Even so, the picture founders for something meaningful to say about life and lost love. Instead, Bacon’s episodic tale of a woman’s struggles and redemption are told from the tear-stained Kleenexes of a weepy with a bittersweet center but soft-headed approach to romance with the wrong guy. Honestly, after all she’s been through, Mary’s still sweet on dumb Don - the run-around, weak-kneed and spurious stud?!? Are you kidding me?!? Arguably, Mary Stevens M.D. is just what the doctor ordered for ‘Depression-era’ audiences as the picture not only made money, but continued to elevate Francis’ rep in the biz as the studio’s most bankable and rising female star. Her distinctive rhotacism (pronouncing her "r’s" as "w’s") aside, Francis would continue to compete for viable good roles at Warner Bros. opposite the likes of Ruth Chatterton and, of course, Bette Davis – the latter, eventually, and rather ravenously, to swamp her associates. But for this brief moment, it was Francis – not Davis – who towered at Warner’s, earning a monumental $115,000 salary, compared to Davis’ paltry $18,000. Oh well, Davis had the last laugh, eventually ousting Francis from her perch and moving into, not only the top slot, but also, the dressing room once occupied by Francis.

Kay Francis today is an all-but-forgotten star, recognizable only to die-hard cinema historians who continue to cherish her brief legacy as worthy of re-discovery and re-examination. In private, Francis was the antithesis of these put-together gals she portrayed on the screen. Indeed, her life beyond the footlights could best be summarized as a hot mess – married and divorced in short order, 3 times, while carrying on affairs with the likes of Maurice Chevalier and Raven Freiherr von Barnekow. What studio P.R. fought like hell to keep out of the tabloids back in the day has been hermetically preserved in Francis’ diaries, now a part of the academic collection at Wesleyan University, including Francis’ affinity for fostering friendships with gay men. In failing health and badly burned in 1948, Francis retired from acting for good, eager to embrace the quiet life. Diagnosed with breast cancer in 1966 to have metastasized to other organs in her body, she died alone in 1968, cremated immediately with strict instructions that her ashes be ‘disposed of’ without ceremony or even a grave marker. Film, however, is forever. And thus, the anonymity Francis desperately craved in her emeritus years will likely never truly be hers in the chronicles of time itself, ever-lasting and immortal.

Especially, when there are such glowing preservation and restoration efforts being expended on her back catalog of movies. Mary Stevens M.D. arrives on Blu-ray in a pristine 1080p Blu-ray from the Warner Archive. There is – truly – nothing to complain about here. The elements used to remaster this disc must have been in very good condition to begin with, as the results in hi-def yield an image that is not only razor-sharp, but also exhibits exceptional tonality in its gray scale, allowing for all of the gorgeous layering and textures in Sidney Hickox’s cinematography to shine through. Age-related artifacts are a non-issue. Contrast is superb. A light smattering of film grain appears indigenous to its source. You are going to LOVE the way this looks. The 2.0 Westrex audio has been lovingly preserved with no discernable hiss or pop. Great stuff here.  No extras. No need. Again, WAC has put its money where it ought to have been spent – on creating a superior hi-def master for generations to come. Bottom line: very highly recommended for video-mastering quality alone. But it’s still only a so-so movie. Judge and buy accordingly.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

2

VIDEO/AUDIO

5+

EXTRAS

0