1935 - Alice Adams

Last week, I had the pleasure of attending an Academy event which, for this Oscars freak, was a giddy experience, despite it being a fairly low-key affair, open to the public. In any case, I'm grateful to be living in a city that affords me the opportunity to attend such things.

As you can see from the program (pictured to the right), this was a George Stevens Lecture, the Academy's long-running series of screenings/lectures celebrating the cinematic arts (and, if I'm not mistaken, I believe the point is that it's always a George Stevens film). While waiting for the event to begin, the audience was treated to some archival footage of interviews with legendary director George Stevens and producer Pandro S. Berman, discussing some behind-the-scenes tidbits about the movie we were about to see. Then, after a brief introduction by Academy President John Bailey, we heard from the director's own son, George Stevens Jr., also a filmmaker and an important figure in the film industry himself (he founded the AFI), who gave us a general overview of his father's life and career, as well as some more stories about the evening's film. He then handed the floor to the main lecturer of the evening, writer and director Robin Swicord, a member of the Academy's Board of Governors, representing the writers branch. (Swicord was Oscar-nominated for her adaptation of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, which will be covered on this blog at some point in the future.)

Swicord's speech offered an in-depth look at the themes that Stevens was exploring in his film and how relevant they remain to this day. It was a genuinely fascinating talk, full of humour and insight, despite some spoilers. Though, it's hard to complain about spoilers of a film that was released 83 years ago. Finally, Swicord introduced the film itself and we all sat back to watch one of the Best Picture contenders from 1935...

Alice Adams
Director:
George Stevens
Screenplay:
Dorothy Yost, Mortimer Offner, Jane Murfin
(based on the novel by Booth Tarkington)
Starring:
Katharine Hepburn, Fred MacMurray, Fred Stone, Evelyn Venable, Frank Albertson, Ann Shoemaker, Charles Grapewin, Hattie McDaniel
Academy Awards:
2 nominations
0 wins

The Adams family (not the creepy, kooky one) are a lower middle class family who have hit upon rough times. Mr. Adams (Stone) is lucky to still be paid for a factory job he's been unable to perform in years, due to illness. His daughter Alice (Hepburn) desperately wants to be upper class, often forced to fake it as she attends fancy society soirees. But she struggles to keep up the facade when she falls for wealthy Arthur Russell (MacMurray), who seems to remain interested in her even after becoming aware of her compromised social status.

Alice Adams is an engaging, if slightly superficial, tale of class differences in Depression-era America. Despite the desperation subtly seeping from every scene, there's a surprising amount of humour. It's a mix that works wonderfully well, making for a cinematic experience that is both moving and enjoyable. Perhaps my only complaint is the abrupt ending. While that's clearly not unusual for early Hollywood, here it seems particularly unconvincing. The implausibly hasty resolution between Mr. Adams and his boss is perhaps bad enough, but then our two protagonists suddenly set aside their differences with only a few words and a sweeping kiss, followed by The End. Interestingly, the book on which this film is based did not end the same way and instead saw Alice and Arthur go their separate ways. Hepburn and Stevens pushed hard to retain the book's more realistic ending, including a final scene showing Alice heading off to business school, but in the end, producer Pandro S. Berman got his way, making sure the lovers united for a traditional, and box-office friendly, happy ending.

That's a relatively minor quibble, though, because the film is indeed captivating, in great part due to Katharine Hepburn's tour-de-force performance. She's charmingly natural in a role that paradoxically requires a near constant tone of insincerity. I must admit, though, that the pretension was a bit grating at times, almost jeopardising our desire to see her succeed, but I suppose it only added to the character's flawed desperation. Also noteworthy is a pre-Gone With the Wind Hattie McDaniel in a drily comic turn as an incompetent maid, delivering the film's funniest performance. But it was Hepburn that claimed the film's only acting nomination. In fact, it was the film's only nomination in any other category aside from Best Picture.