THE SHINING HOUR: Blu-ray (MGM, 1938) Warner Archive

Throughout her MGM tenure, Joan Crawford aspired to be taken seriously as a great actress. Two things prevented this; first, L.B. Mayer’s inability to see Crawford as anything better than a money-making machine his studio could exploit in a series of ‘shop girl makes good’ fluff that audiences of the day, nevertheless, immensely enjoyed. In years yet to come, Mayer would brag that “the millions I made off of Joan built the writer’s building!” Crawford played along. Or rather, tolerated the typecasting. But she deeply resented it, as her contemporary – actress, Norma Shearer possessed the luxury of having the studio’s second in command, V.P. Irving Thalberg, as her lawful wedded husband who thusly hand-crafted Shearer a career of meteoric highs and diversity in roles. “How can I complete with that,” Crawford seethed, “She’s sleeping with the boss!” True. But Shearer was also a great actress. And under Thalberg’s auspices, she bounded through a unique appointment of lavish spectacles that eventually earned Shearer the moniker, ‘queen of the lot’. Little did Crawford suspect the writing was on the wall for her and Shearer after Thalberg’s untimely death in 1936. Mayer, it seems, had tired of investing in temperamental screen goddesses. He preferred younger, more malleable talent.

So, by 1938, the year Crawford made The Shining Hour, she had slipped in box office appeal. Not even her shopworn ‘shop girl’ fodder was making money anymore. Worse, her second ‘open’ marriage to MGM matinee idol, Franchot Tone was badly disintegrating. The couple would divorce the following year, with Tone taking the split badly. Crawford and Tone had seen Keith Winters’ original play in 1934. Then, at the zenith of her drawing power at MGM, Crawford begged Mayer to buy the property for her. While MGM did snatch up the rights, Mayer intended to have Shearer appear in a planned movie adaptation in 1936. For undisclosed reasons, this project never came to fruition. Hence, Crawford, now very much on the downswing, viewed The Shining Hour as her real chance to reinvent her screen persona, align it more directly with her desire to be considered a superior actress, and shore up her sagging receipts at the box office. But again, none of this happened.

And it’s odd too. Because the Joan Crawford we get in The Shining Hour is quite unlike anything she had done before and even less characteristic to the Crawford best regarded from her spate of classics made a decade later at Warner Bros. So, the Joan Crawford we get in The Shining Hour is a ‘one off’ – or one of only two times Crawford allowed herself to step out of her comfort zone in a real/reel ‘character part’. But like that ‘other’ time – 1932’s RainThe Shining Hour has since become more of a footnote than a monument to Crawford’s greatness as a leading lady. What it comes down to is this: Joan Crawford was a star, not an actress. There’s nothing wrong or condescending in suggesting as much. Part of the difficulty for Crawford here is The Shining Hour is more of an ensemble piece than a star-building vehicle. The other problem is Crawford’s inability to step beyond the ensconced studio glamor, that glycerin façade she worshipped but to which she eventually became a slave after the mid-forties as she entered her mid to late forties, while refusing to accept the march of time and inevitable passing parade of movie stardom had tired of her particular brand of drama queen. The Shining Hour is not a bad movie. But it’s hardly an exceptional one either. And while it received mixed praise upon its release, viewed today it comes across as far more a relic than a masterpiece.

We first meet Crawford, or rather, her alter ego, nightclub hoofer, Olivia Riley as a resilient gal who, nevertheless, has tired of Manhattan’s fast lane.  To end the boredom, Olivia agrees to wed Henry Linden (Melvyn Douglas), a wealthy land owner in Wisconsin, much to the chagrin of his jealous sister, Hannah (Fay Bainter) who wastes no time employing their brother, David (Robert Young) to thwart the marriage.  David attempts to impugn Olivia’s character, an effort to earn him a well-deserved slap in the face. Partly out of spite, Olivia marries Henry to prove to the family she is worthy of inclusion. Yet, upon moving into her new digs, Olivia quickly encounters opposition from Hannah. Nevertheless, she makes a valiant friend of David’s wife, Judy (Margaret Sullavan) who is similarly ostracized by the family. The romantic situation becomes even more complicated when, upon defending Olivia’s honor from a wayward farmhand, David begins to harbor sincere affections towards his brother’s wife. Henry is obtuse to this brewing infatuation. But Hannah becomes overwrought upon its discovery, torching the home Henry built for his new bride. Caught in the inferno, Olivia rescues a badly burned Judy from the flames. David decides he has always loved his wife and tearfully embraces her. Disgusted by the havoc, Olivia makes ready to depart for good. However, Henry professes his genuine love for her. She softens and the couple reunite, leaving all the ugliness behind them.  

The Shining Hour is a pretty pedestrian melodrama, despite the immeasurable roster of talents gone into its creation. Crawford exudes a genuinely heartfelt exuberance that mellows, then ripens into a stronger devotion to the man whom, ostensibly, she only wed for money. Faye Bainter’s destructive harpy is a refreshing departure for an actress usually typecast in matronly or ‘his gal Friday’ roles. Margaret Sullavan’s demure lass is also finely established with sedated charm. The real difficulty resides with the male counterparts. Robert Young’s confused and slightly randy husband is all over the place. Young plays the early scenes with calculated integrity. But the latter moments, when he awakens to David’s loves for Judy, are wholly unbelievable. And Melvyn Douglas appears to have slept-walked through much of his performance, presumably, in recognition of the fact, the picture is a woman’s piece with a little testosterone on the side.  

Studio stalwart, Frank Borzage directs this disposable nothing, cribbing from a screenplay by Jane Murfin and Ogden Nash, remaining relatively faithful to Keith Winter’s original stagecraft. George J. Folsey’s gorgeous B&W cinematography shows off time-honored master craftsmen, Cedric Gibbon’s production design, Edwin B. Willis’ set decoration, and, resident couturier, Adrian’s impossibly fashionable costuming to its greatest effect. Borzage, who, in a previous life was a handsome actor, also was honored with the very first Academy Award for Best Director for 7th Heaven (1927). During the next 3 decades, Borzage toiled in largely forgettable melodrama, with 108 movies to his credit (arguably, the most notable, 1940’s The Mortal Storm), switching to television in the early fifties, with only two more theatrical features on his horizon. He died of cancer in 1962, 68 years young.  The Shining Hour is not Borzage’s shining moment. It’s too maudlin in spots, and too lumbering elsewhere, squandering much of its opportunity on a series of melodramatic vignettes that neither sell the story as high art nor heighten our emotional response to these superficially sad-eyed women. Two years later, director Alfred Hitchcock would torch another manor house for the epic finale of his American movie debut, Rebecca (1940), with another crazy lady – Dame Judith Anderson’s Mrs. Danvers, toting the boxful of matches this time.

The Shining Hour arrives on Blu-ray via the Warner Archive (WAC) in a 1080p transfer that positively sparkles. This is a ravishing example of video mastering for which WAC has long since become well-regarded. Contrast is universally excellent with rich, velvety blacks and pristine whites. Fine detail abounds in every detail. Adrian’s costuming looks spectacular. Film grain is accurately represented. Age-related artifacts are nowhere to be found. The 2.0 DTS mono showcases Franz Waxman’s score to its very best advantage. Dialogue and effects are properly placed. The only extras are a radio program, several vintage cartoon shorts and a theatrical trailer. Bottom line: for those who admire Crawford’s determination, The Shining Hour exhibits her steely resolve to elevate lackluster material to a finite precision in glamorous emoting. It’s still a pretty silly movie, however, and that’s a pity when Crawford’s superior work under WAC’s domain, like A Woman’s Face, When Ladies Meet (both made in 1941) or Humoresque (1946) still remain MIA on Blu-ray. There are two schools of thought here, one to suggest sour grapes and imply a ‘take what you can get’ mentality to what the studios are willing to offer up on physical media. But we are far enough down this rabbit hole, where more of the good stuff should be coming down the pike along with the oddities and curious failures. Just saying.

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

2

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

1

 

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