The Rare & Unusual in Video Release

MADAM SATAN (1930, MGM) Directed by Cecil B. De Mille, Screenplay by Jeanie MacPherson, Gladys Unger, and Elsie Janis. With Kay Johnson as "Madam Satan, Reginald Denny, Roland Young, Lillian Roth, EIsa Peterson, Jack King, Edward Prinz, Boyd Irwin, Wallace MacDonald, Tyler Brook, Ynez Seabury, Theodore Kosloff, Julanne Johnston, Martha Sleeper, Doris McMahon, Vera Marsh, Albert Conti, Earl Askam, Countess DeLiguoro, Katherine Irving, Lotus Thompson, Aileen Ransom, Abe Lyman & His Band, Vera Gordon, Allan Lane, Mary Carlisle, and Wilfred Lucas. Music & Lyrics by Clifford Grey, Herbert Stothart, Elsie Janis, and Jack King. 115 min. $19.99. Here's a quick quiz: (1) What pre-Code major studio movie features dialog, costumes, and sexual situations which would assure it at least a PG-13 rating even in today's permissive atmosphere? (2) What movie had a climax built around the horrendous crash of an airship fully seven years before the tragedy of the Hindenburg? (3) What big-budget movie was such a financial disappointment that it very nearly ruined the career of one of America's most famous and beloved directors? Of course, the answer to all three questions has to be Madam Satan, probably the wackiest semi-musical comedy/romance/drama/disaster film you're likely to encounter in this lifetime. Opening with a meaningful-and even then clichéd-shot of a caged bird, Madam Satan begins as a somewhat low-key comedy of sexual politics, circa 1930 U.S.A.; that cinematic portion of the U.S.A. inhabited by the "beautiful people" who hadn't yet fallen victim to the rampaging Depression. Kay Johnson is Angela Brooks, the caged bird who must endure her sentence in a luxurious mansion, surrounded by servants (some of whom sing) while her playboy husband Bob (Reginald Denny) stays out nights, partying with his urbane college chum Jimmy (Roland Young), when both are supposedly conducting "business" matters. Bob and Jimmy embody the rich and lovable drunken yuppies of that period, complete with throwaway quips that remain the envy of the sober among us. But beneath the thick icing of rakish charm, Bob has taken the very serious step of engaging in affairs, lately with Trixie (portrayed by Lillian Roth), the singing and dancing female member of a traveling show biz trio. Angela discovers her husband's infidelity, and the resulting confrontation brings to light the couple's wounded impressions of each other; Angela believes that Bob, and all men, are eternal children chasing after pretty balloons, while Bob is convinced that Angela views marriage as a school, with herself as the teacher. His libertine excesses are a response to her self-righteous coolness, and each has a good case for argument. When Bob walks out, the stage is set for a typical but still amusing interval during which the inimitable Roland Young, gentleman that he is, is forced to pretend that he and Trixie are married, in order to allay Angela's suspicions, while hiding the same Angela beneath his bed clothing so that pal Bob won't believe that the two are sleeping together. It's a complicated scene that Young carries off perfectly. In a plot line that goes back at least as far as Die Fledermaus, Angela decides to assume a new personal identity-a freer, more sensual expression of self that will show to her straying spouse that she is just as passionate as any of the "goodtime girls" that he seeks out, and the perfect opportunity fortuitously arises when Jimmy hosts an elaborate masked ball, aboard a moored zeppelin, to advertise a new oil company. This is where the film veers away from just another comic war between the sexes, into the realm of complete weirdness. The ball on the airship is as gaudy and over-the-top as any of Busby Berkeley's worst nightmares-if less well-choreographed-with almost desperately outrageous costumes mixed into acrobatic dances that are never found outside of Hollywood. Everyone is having a "high" old time when "Madam Satan" makes her appearance. Angela's nude-look costume is, in fact, daring, and somehow a little half-mask (that disguises her no better than Clark Kent's glasses) keeps her identity secret from all, even Bob and Jimmy. A heavy French accent helps. Madam Satan is the immediate hit of the party, much to the dismay of Trixie (dressed as "Miss Golden Pheasant"), and her double, triple, and quadruple entendres have every man aboard the craft lusting for her. Especially husband Bob. The two spar verbally, for a time, moving to a more private area of the ship and, when Bob is just ready to make his move, Angela reveals her true identity, though not to the response she had expected. Bob is both humiliated and angered by the deception. Angela points out that her actions were exactly those that he earlier claimed to need from her, but this fails to soothe his wounded ego. Before any real progress can be made, lightning strikes the mooring mast. This is not the Hindenburg, however, so rather than exploding into a raging inferno as its hydrogen gas interior would logically dictate, the craft is set adrift in the powerful winds. Panic seizes the passengers and crew, naturally enough, but in a case where older is better, the people have the option of bailing out of danger in parachutes. Bob's first thought is to save his wife, proving his true love for her, and hers is similarly for his safety. Trixie, rather forgotten by now, shows her "true colors" in her totally understandable panic, and begs Angela for the parachute that Bob has appropriated for her. (She leaps gleefully into the angry storm clouds, knowing that her rival has a near-zero chance of surviving.) By now, the zeppelin is breaking up (though not falling, strangely), and even the crew and band members (whom Bob has forced to keep playing) are allowed to jump to safety. As host, Jimmy demands the gentleman's right to be the last person to leave the doomed ship, but he is pitched into the night by the crew. Someone has slightly miscalculated, however... there is only one parachute and two guests left: Angela and Bob. Angela fights to remain with Bob, but he refuses with the perfectly scripted, "You've made me the fool, I won't let you make a coward of me, too!", and tosses her overboard. Hundreds of wildly-dressed rich folk rain down upon the startled city. He seemed doomed, but Bob manages to survive as the portion of the shattered airship to which he clings glides over the city reservoir and he dives in, suffering only a wrenched elbow. Poor Jimmy winds up in a tree growing at the center of the local zoo's lion exhibit. All ends happily as no deaths result from the disaster, and Angela and Bob are back together again. They have realized during the ordeal that their love for one another remains strong, though not without a trace of tension between them. Noticing this, Jimmy-swathed in bandages from his meeting with the lions-takes the opportunity to limp away into the night. You have to see it to believe it. Kay Johnson handles the long-suffering role of "Angela" well (even if the styles of the time make her look older than her age of twenty-six), and Reginald Denny is competent as both the drunken and stalwart "Bob". Lillian Roth is a leggy, enthusiastic "Trixie" whose Jolson-esque singing style hasn't aged well; Lillian's chaotic private life (including alcoholism and eight divorces) outstripped any role she ever played, and was later dramatized as I'll Cry Tomorrow with Susan Hayward. The real star of the happy mess is the casual, quipping Roland Young, acting the part of the wealthy, wry, self-involved, yet still very proper gentleman playboy that he was born to perform. Most of the best lines are delivered by Young. As the male passengers of the zeppelin vie for the attention of the disguised Angela by recounting their own wickedness, one states, "I've never repented a sin," to which Young's "Jimmy" calmly responds, "I've never repeated one." A bit later, as "Madam Satan" leads away Bob for their "assignation," Jimmy remarks, "It's a waste of time to take a married man to Hell." Even when he's staring down at the lions that are hungrily circling the tree into which he has fallen, he has the aplomb to glance at a sign reading, "Feeding Time-Nine A.M.," and say to them, "It's nowhere near nine, you know." For the time, the special effects of the second half of the film are quite well done, giving you a real sense of bigness when focusing on the outside of the airship. The falling passengers are a touch transparent during the matte shots, but not enough to be distracting. The storm seems legitimately threatening. This inspires a scene which could have been the blueprint for a similar one in The Towering Inferno, forty-four years later, as a concerned official attempts to convince the man in charge of the party to leave for a safer site, only to be pointedly ignored. The party itself is everything that might be expected from those slaphappy times and more. The ridiculous costumes of guests such as "Miss Conning Tower", "Mr. and Mrs. High Hat", "Mr. and Mrs. Hottentot", and "Miss Golden Pheasant" (Trixie) are warmly welcomed by the other guests in their own silly attire. The dances and songs won't remain with you five minutes beyond the picture's conclusion, but your jaw will drop while you watch them. This was supposed to be another C.B. De Mille extravaganza, and he labored mightily to live up to it. Though contrary to legend, the film did make money upon release, but it cost so much that it resulted in a substantial financial failure and a kick in the pants for the great director. Perhaps the most amusing scenes were those of the parachutists alighting about the city...amusing and politically incorrect. A fat guest lands on a man sleeping on a park bench (plenty of them in '30, huh?) and breaks the bench in half. A woman in a many-armed "Kali"-styled costume drops amid a group of boasting black dice players and sends them running. And in her triumphant scene, the feathered Trixie manages to crash through the roof of an all-male club, just as the members are receiving massages and complaining that this is the only place left to them to get away from women who are "horning in everywhere;" Trixie claps delightedly as the startled men react with high-pitched squeals and scamper for cover. A very "deflating" moment. Over all, the film takes quite a few shots at the male ego-men as overgrown children, men who can't recognize the kisses of their own wives, men who refuse to accept defeat even when hoisted on their own petards-a tone surely attributable to its three female writers. Is Madam Satan a good movie? No. Will it bore you? Not if you can appreciate the suave verbal legerdemain of Roland Young during the first half, before the aerial outrageousness begins. Will you remember Madam Satan? Probably as long as you can enjoy the sheer audacity of Depression-era Hollywood. And shouldn't there always be a place for audacity in entertainment? -Steve Vance