YOU AND ME: Blu-ray (Paramount, 1938) Kino Lorber
George Raft and Sylvia Sidney (in a
role originally intended for Carole Lombard) make for an engaging pair of
misfits in You and Me (1938), perhaps, director, Fritz Lang’s most
undervalued masterpiece of the little gem class. It’s hardly a perfect
entertainment. Lang would later reflect that the scene in which a motley crew
of ex-cons becoming almost dewy-eyed to return to prison was ‘idiotic.’ I would also suggest the opening montage – rather
excellently to illustrate the shamelessness of consumerism in the ‘then’ modern
age, is all but submarined by its overwrought – nee, operatic – underscore.
Having stated this, You and Me has oh, so very much to offer the first-time
viewer, and the classic aficionado alike. Raft, who all but tanked his own
movie career by making misguided executive choices regarding what films to
appear in (he, rather notoriously, turned down the leads in The Maltese
Falcon, Casablanca and High Sierra, thereby handing fellow Warner
contract player, Humphrey Bogart his stardom on a plate) is a rather fascinating
– if, largely forgotten fellow in the cinema firmament.
Raft was born a scrapper in New
York’s rough n’ tumble Hell’s Kitchen and worked his way into spates as an amateur
pugilist, minor-league baseball player, and taxi dancer who later, helped to
popularize the tango. He was also linked to organized crime figures, Enoch
Johnson and Larry Fay, Owney Madden and Benjamin "Bugsy" Siegel. It
was, in fact, Madden who encouraged Raft to try his hand at acting, a fortuitous
bit of career advice as he quickly caught the attention of the critics in bit
parts in Gold Diggers of Broadway and Side Street (both made and
released in 1929). But it was for his second-string performance as Guino
Rinaldo in Scarface (1932) Raft ostensibly became ‘a star’. His ‘menacing
suavity’ made him a hit. Refusing to
appear in The Story of Temple Drake (1933), Raft was put on suspension
by the studio. This, alas, would become something of a chronic trend with Raft
in the intervening years. While
Paramount kept Raft busy – either in home-grown fare or on loan outs to various
studios – few of the pictures he made, despite their varying degrees of
popularity with audiences, were of a quality to linger in the mind as bona fide
classics. Raft’s participation in You and Me reportedly came on the
heels of his disappointing screen test for the pending role of Rhett Butler in
Selznick’s Gone with the Wind (1939). Suspended several more times for
refusing to simply accept what he felt were substandard parts, Raft’s Paramount
contract was cancelled this same year.
Like her co-star, Sylvia Sidney came
up the hard way in the Bronx, marking her film debut in the forgettable 1926’s The
Sorrows of Satan. Her Depression-era career was undistinguished, playing
the gal/pal to the likes of some of Hollywood’s most popular leading men:
Spencer Tracy, Gary Cooper, Henry Fonda and Cary Grant. Also, like Raft, Sidney
quickly developed a reputation for being ‘difficult’ despite being one of the
highest-paid actresses of her time. By 1949, Sidney had gone from audience fav’
to box-office poison. Raft’s career would outlast Sidney’s, though she would be
Oscar-nominated in 1973 for Summer Wishes, Winter Dreams. The Oscar, even
in nomination, would elude Raft. Despite the negativity of bad press, Sidney
found work in films, on Broadway and television over the next five decades,
often with considerable praise for her work. On July 1, 1999 her lifelong
addiction to cigarettes caught up with her. Sidney died of esophageal cancer just
shy of her 89th birthday. Perhaps, the parallels in hard knocks
along the bumpy road to success become tangible nuggets of joy in You and Me
as Sidney and Raft have such exceptionally nuanced and clear-eyed chemistry
on the screen, they make alter egos, Helen Roberts and Joe Dennis respectively,
shine with unvarnished sincerity.
When Helen lies to Joe about her
past as an ex-con, unknowing of his own similarly-themed history, Sidney
communicates so well and so subtly the intense pain in Helen’s heart, sneaking
in a momentary glance or wistfully wounded gaze. And when Joe unearths the
truth, though not the knowledge he is soon to become a father (a secret kept by
Helen almost until the final fade out), Raft’s steely mettle, his bitter declaration
he has somehow been made the sap, suddenly – meaningfully - melts away to expose
a tenderloin, to again trust the one woman Joe so clearly and completely loves.
These marvelously intuitive central performances elevate You and Me from
standard romanticized Hollywood tragedy tripe into a poignant and affecting
piece of cinema entertainment that, if occasionally marred by screenwriter, Virginia
Van Upp’s retreats into silly Damon Runyon-esque respites, cribbing from Norman
Krasna’s original story and a veritable who’s who of popular pug-uglies from
the murderer’s row gallery (to include Barton MacLane as Mickey, Roscoe Karns
as Cuffy, George E. Stone as Patsy, Warren Hymer as Gimpy and Adrian Morris as
Knucks), nevertheless finds its footing on mostly solid ground as an effective
drama. Blink and you will miss up-and-comer, Robert Cummings in a cameo as
another thug, Jim. We should also note the exquisite Harry Carey as Department
Store Owner, Mr. Morris. Carey made a career of playing warm-hearted sages and
Morris is no exception. Here, Carey is the guy who gives other guys less fortunate
than himself, and in desperate need of a helping hand – their leg up to prove
the initial foray into crime does not have to devolve into a life of regrets,
poverty and failed ambitions.
After Fritz Lang’s rather grandiloquent
homage to capitalism run amok, we meet Mr. Morris, owner of a Macy’s-like
department store, whose outstretched hand of tolerance gives offenders on
parole a fighting chance to rehabilitate their chances for a happy life. The ‘legit’
staff are quite unaware of Morris’ philanthropy, though his wife (Cecil Cunningham)
is decidedly chagrined. In short order, we are also introduced to Joe Dennis
who has decided to quit and move to California as he believes he is unworthy of
the love of fellow-employee, Helen Roberts. There is not getting around it. Joe
used to be a bad egg. But now, he is reformed. Best to make a clean break of
things and begin anew. Alas, love and hope spring eternal. After spending a ‘last
night’ together doing the nightclubs, Joe is unable to say goodbye to Helen at
the bus depot. The two are secretly wed and retire to the apartment Helen is
renting from Mr. and Mrs. Levine (Egon Brecher, Vera Gordon). At first,
suspecting Helen has brought a man back to her room, Mrs. Levine is staunchly
opposed to the relationship. But when she discovers Helen and Joe are man and
wife, Mrs. Levine welcomes them both with open arms, even helping to expand
their living arrangements within her establishment.
The problem: Helen’s marriage to
Joe is in direct violation of her parole. Discovering Helen’s parole cards
tucked in a drawer, Joe realizes Helen has been lying to him about the reason
for keeping their marriage a secret from the rest of the employees at work.
Previously, Helen tried to suggest Morris’ store policy included a clause of ‘no
fraternizing’ between employees. This, however, is a lie. Believing their
marriage a fraud, Joe slinks back into his old ways, joining mob boss, Mickey
and his cronies on a break-in plot against Morris’ establishment. Knowing of
Helen’s love for Joe, Patsy disguises his voice over the telephone, exposing
the robbery plot and encouraging Helen to find a way to keep Joe away on the
night in question. Instead, Helen exposes the whole gang to Morris who intercepts
Mickey’s boys in their failed attempt, but then has Helen explain why the old
adage ‘crime doesn’t pay’ is, in fact, a good policy to adhere to going
forward. Using a chalk board, Helen brilliantly illustrates just how much
Mickey is taking advantage of them. The would-be burglars are reformed and
allowed to return to work for Morris without reprisals.
Joe, however, is unimpressed by
Helen's role in their liberation. He refuses to reconcile and, as such, Helen
elects to packs her things and move out of the boarding house without ever
telling Joe he is about to become a father. Time passes. Joe has second
thoughts. He truly loves Helen. So, he puts Patsy and the rest of the gang on assignment
to find out what has become of her. Yet, it is only after Joe confronts Helen’s
parole officer (Harlan Briggs) that he learns just how much she has sacrificed
for him. Joe finds out about Helen’s pregnancy – also, that their marriage is
void as it breached her parole conditions. Armed with this intel, Joe has his
boys scour the local hospitals. Eventually, Patsy locates Helen who has just
delivered Joe a son. Ecstatic to be a father, Joe pledges himself to Helen anew.
Our story concludes with Joe and Helen renewing their vows – this time,
legitimately, and unincumbered by indiscretions committed in their respective
past lives.
You and Me ought to have
been an excellent career launch for both George Raft and Sylvia Sidney. Instead,
it was fast considered just another ‘run of the mill’ romantic drama in a
decade over-saturated by such soulful forays about life. Viewed today, it
retains a good deal of its sincerity as a frank, if intermittently silly, story
about two people of genuinely flawed character who, through a gracious whim of
fate, discover their lives really can begin anew when the heart is willing. Shortly
after the picture’s premiere, Raft made the move to Warner Bros. where he would
enjoy intermittent success while chronically fighting the studio’s eagerness to
repeatedly cast him as ‘the heavy’ in gangster roles. Evidently, Raft had hoped
to distance his fictional reputation from his previous alliances with ‘legit’
figures in the criminal underworld. Raft’s difficulties in reconciling this
past with his future ambitions leant an air of arrogance to his chronic
disagreements with Warner’s front office and often made him a disagreeable
presence on the set of movies to which he was committed.
After leaving Warner Bros. Raft's
career as a freelancer was initially well-received. Alas, the pall of the
murder of Las Vegas mobster, Bugsy Siegel left a bad taste with many critics.
By the end of the 1940’s Raft’s status in Hollywood had degenerated from star
to disposable second-string. He retreated to Vegas where he found some success
as a nightclub entertainer, after initial blackballing – again, for his
supposed connections with underworld crime. At the end of the 1950s, Raft
returned to picture-making – appearing as – what else? – a mafia-styled thug in
Billy Wilder’s Some Like It Hot (1959), following it up with similarly shaded
characterizations in Ocean’s 11 (1960) and The Patsy (1964). A
charge of ‘tax evasion’ the following year forced Raft to testify against organized
crime. Invited to work in London’s gambling house, The Colony Club, by 1967,
Raft was banned there too, as an ‘undesirable’ unable to reenter the country.
You and Me arrives on
Blu-ray via Kino Lorber’s alliance with Universal Home Video, the current
custodians of the pre-war Paramount library. And while archival elements, and
Uni’s own less-than-proactive stance on film preservation have not always
yielded the best results for these early Paramount gems, the results here are
mostly appealing. Age-related artifacts are still present and minor light
bleeding around the edges of the film frame is evident. But overall, the
B&W image exhibits good solid tonality, with slightly anemic black levels,
but an impressive amount of fine detail throughout, especially in close-ups. Contrast
is good and sharpness is also admirable, with a few intermittent caveats. Given
Lang’s heavy use of montages, transitions, dissolves, fades are also expertly
handled with a minimal loss of image fidelity. The 2.0 DTS mono audio handles
the dialogue with precise clarity. Extras are limited to an audio commentary by
historian, Simon Abrams and a series of trailers for this and other similarly-themed
Kino product. Abrams delivers a nice overview of Lang’s movie career in Germany
and Hollywood. His take on the production history of this movie, however, is
rather thin. Oh well, perhaps there is
not a whole lot to say. You and Me did poorly at the box office but
otherwise proves it has some fascinating nuggets of wisdom to impart upon the
first-time viewer. The Blu-ray is solidly mastered. Judge and buy accordingly.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
3.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
4
EXTRAS
1
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