THE MAYOR OF HELL (Warner Bros. 1933) Warner Home Video

Has there ever been another star with quite the potency and ruthless magnetism as James Cagney? Although diminutive in size (Cagney was only 5 ft. 5 in.) the aura of danger Cagney generated on the screen was epic. Arguably, what made Cagney unique was the eloquence in his line of movement. While other ‘gangster types’ put forth on the movie screen lumbered about as though the girth of their intimidation rested squarely between their shoulder blades, the brutality exorcised by Cagney’s variations on ‘thug muscle’ seemed to spring from within; a force of nature, impossible to ignore or stop once it was unleashed. It’s really no surprise, then, to learn Cagney first came to the attention of talent scouts as a hoofer; his training more balletic than confrontational, re-directed toward the crime-land milieu that was, at least in the early 1930’s, the bread and butter of Warner Bros. – the studio that had fast become his alma mater. And in those early years when Hollywood’s self-governing code of ethics had yet to take hold of the industry’s product, Cagney’s reign as one of its most sinister and darkly purposed reprobates, remained beyond reproach. His brows arched, his eyes, cruel and piercing, his lips, contorted into a grimace that derived its crooked pleasure mostly from someone else’s pain; Cagney on film became something of a jungle cat with nerves of steel no one ought to even attempt to jangle if they expected to make it into the final reel.  

Archie Mayo and Michael Curtiz’s The Mayor of Hell (1933) is pretty par for the course of what the studio had made of Cagney’s persona thus far.  The irony, of course, is that in private, Cagney was the absolute antithesis of these lowbrow goons. Indeed, as an actor, he bore more innate talent and natural qualities to play parts well beyond this limited scope; yet, only given the opportunity after the Code’s installation, which precluded his continuation in the same vein, established by the studio. And so, Cagney’s later career, from Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942) onward, became more diversified and reflective of the actor’s formidable gifts. The Mayor of Hell is a mostly satisfying crime melodrama – just one of three such ‘ripped from the headlines’ programmers that Cagney, in the full flourish of his ‘bad boy’ studio image, made in one year; a tautly scripted minor endeavor from writer, Edward Chodorov, based on Islin Auster’s story, Reform School that offers us the first glimmers of that ‘other’ side of Cagney, lurking from beneath the more crudely-hewn façade, and yearning to be freed.

Known for his razor-sharp delivery and his ability to tower over most of his contemporaries, Cagney makes the character of racketeer, Richard ‘Patsy’ Gargan, a credible ‘hero’ of this decidedly un-heroic age. Chodorov’s screenplay wastes no time in outlining the story; political fop, Richard Gargan is made deputy commissioner of a boy’s reform school as his ‘reward’ for public service by corrupt political cronies. Sam (James Donlan), the political boss, Judge H.J. Gilbert (Arthur Byron) and Hopkins, the Children’s Aid lawyer (John Marston) are eager to appoint someone they believe they can manipulate to suit their ends. And initially, Gargan is very much their stooge, taking little interest in this appointment. It’s a paycheck set up with graft moneys to afford him an equitable lifestyle with plenty of schmoozing and payoffs. However, Gargan eventually develops a backbone – also, a legitimate empathy for the boys he oversees – particularly, Jimmy Smith (Frankie Darro), perhaps because in Jimmy’s plight and struggles Gargan taps into a remembrance of his own hopeless start in life as a delinquent youth.

Reformed by the love of the school’s infirmary nurse, Dorothy Griffith (Madge Adams), Gargan begins to rebuild, both the spirits of its inhabitants and the institution’s reputation as a brand and beacon for the dispirited and downtrodden beyond its walls. Gargan censures and/or fires the guards responsible for battering the boys while flying under the radar of heartless and tyrannical, Mr. Thompson (Dudley Digges). Sending Thompson on a holiday, Gargan implements some of Dorothy’s reformist ideas into practical action – including developing an internal system of self-regulation and justice that places responsibility for the school’s daily operations squarely on the shoulders of the wayward boys, a very Father Flannigan-esque approach to the reformation of these young men. They are put in charge of their own destiny. Unfortunately, Gargan is recalled from the school on some political business in the city. This is actually a set-up, as Sam can clearly see Gargan has established a mind and a will of his own that will not be tolerated. Now, Gargan accidentally shoots another man during a staged fight. His reputation in ruins, Gargan is forced to go into hiding. Thompson returns to the school to spread a rumor surely to dishearten the young men who have placed their faith in Gargan; that their one-time hero is a fraud, to be denounced and stripped of his responsibilities for good. Abolishing all of the progressive reforms Gargan and Dorothy have put into place, Thompson reestablishes the school’s rigid prison-like atmosphere – firing Dorothy after she tries to go higher up the ladder for a social reprieve. The boys are bitter and frustrated but continue to cower under Thompson’s authoritarian rule until one of their own, Johnny Stone (Raymond Borzage) - a popular whipping boy - suddenly dies while placed in solitary confinement. Anarchy ensues. The boys seize control of the school and murder Thompson. Distraught, Dorothy seeks out Gargan who vows to return to the reformatory and become its permanent guiding force for progressivism and social change.

The Mayor of Hell polarized public opinion on the necessity for ‘reform schools’ – indeed, their very management and ability to actually ‘reform’ the young men placed in their care. There are many outstanding performances here, beginning with Cagney’s raw and motivational standout. Perhaps, recognizing that the end of their reign of ‘murderer’s row’ styled movies was fast coming to an end, thanks to the newly instituted Production Code, Warner Bros. wisely began to test the waters by presenting Cagney in a more sympathetic light; the once ‘problem child’ of the system, now its foremost proponent in search of a solution. Thematically, The Mayor of Hell proved so popular it was recycled twice thereafter by the studio – under its original title ‘Reform School’(1938) with Humphrey Bogart and The Dead-End Kids generated considerable heat. Yet, as good as Bogart’s performance is in that second incarnation – Cagney’s Gargan remains the real deal, imbued with genuineness and humanity that makes this ‘his’ movie first, foremost, and arguably, always.

Warner Home Video’s DVD transfer is below par. The B&W image is softly focused with fine details frequently becoming lost during darker scenes. Contrast levels appear weak. Blacks are never deep but rather a faded gray. Whites are a lighter gray. Age-related artifacts and screen flicker distract on occasion. The audio is Dolby Digital 1.0 mono but represented at an adequate listening level, the old Westrex sound recording holding up remarkably well under today’s scrutiny. Extras include a very engaging audio commentary by Greg Mank, whom I could listen to all day, and, a litany of shorts and trailers a la the Warner Night at The Movies treatment. A word of praise for Mank’s contributions to this, and a good many other commentary tracks featured on classic movie DVD/Blu-ray releases; first, that while I am entirely certain, Mank’s reflections are coming from a well-seasoned and even more thoroughly researched base, he appears always to be speaking in a relaxed ‘off the cuff’ manner that makes his astute observations far more engaging than derived from the stuffy ‘academic’ ilk from which a good many commentator’s frequently suffer. And second, Mank has a way of taking copious amounts of history and disseminating it in digestible bits without ever distilling or over-simplifying the context and/or presentation. As already stated, I could just sit back and listen to him seeming ‘talk’ – rather than lecture – about these golden oldies all day long. Not only a great source of information, but a wonderful presenter of it as well. Bottom line: The Mayor of Hell is deserving of a better video remaster. The picture is a powerful indictment on political graft, greed and corruption. Highly recommended – for content, not transfer quality.

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

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

2.5

EXTRAS

2