Reviews

Former Paramount contract player Frances Farmer returned to her former home lot in 1958 to make her last feature film. Despite the comment below, Farmer was *not* lobotomized (see copious documentation throughout IMDb on the Farmer page and elsewhere), and gives the film a bit of stature it wouldn't otherwise have. Interestingly, the ending was changed somewhere along the way. The original pressbook has a plot precis which reveals a more "final" ending for Twig than the film ultimately posits. Driscoll does some great work here in a thankless role, and Connie Stevens gets to scream a lot. Evidently some of the uncredited music is by Henry Mancini, but I've never been able to positively confirm that.

"Frances Farmer Presents" was an Indianapolis ratings powerhouse for six years, 1958-64. Farmer was not merely a "film introducer," she did extensive research for her programs (as evidenced by still extant notes she wrote for certain episodes) and often gave her first-hand impressions of stars and directors who were in that day's feature. Visiting celebrities were a standard feature on Farmer's program, and in still-existing film of her show, she proves what an insightful and gracious interviewer she was. Indianapolis was lucky to have a star of Farmer's stature hosting a show of this nature for so long. In an early 80s television interview, WFBM co-worker Jim Gerrard sums up Frances' character as one of "caring elegance," and that elegance is fully on display in "Frances Farmer Presents."

"Tongues of Angels" epitomizes what live television drama was on a regular basis in the late 50s: perfectly cast, beautifully performed, and excellently produced. A sweet coming-of-age love story about a stutterer (MacArthur) who pretends to be a deaf mute so that he doesn't have to talk, "Tongues of Angels" boasts impressive performances by both Margaret O'Brien and Frances Farmer, both of whom have never been better. O'Brien, in a relatively rare late-teen role, shines as the young girl whose interest in MacArthur helps him to begin to overcome his disability. Farmer is simply perfect in one of only two live 1958 t.v. dramas she did, this time as O'Brien's mother, a down-home, church-going farmer's wife. Farmer fans will also delight to see and hear her playing the piano and singing live with Leon Ames, who plays her husband. The episode features a touching score by Jerry Goldsmith, working Copland territory. Highly recommended for MacArthur, O'Brien and especially Farmer fans.

Several of the preceding comments have gone into great detail about the film and its pleasures. "Rhythm on the Range" is, to our modern jaded eyes and ears, obviously dated, but it has a charm and sly humor that are abundant enough that even 21st century sophisticates can enjoy it. I concur that the major reason to watch the film is for the wonderful performance of Frances Farmer, here somewhat eschewing her early haughty characterizations for an almost subversive comedic performance. This was Frances' first "A" production, after receiving top billing in two very well received Paramount "B"'s, "Too Many Parents" and "Border Flight." Frances went straight from this film to her legendary role(s) in Goldwyn's "Come and Get It," so from late summer, when "Rhythm" was released, through the end of 1936, when "Come and Get It" premiered, she was arguably the hottest, and certainly one of the most talked about, new stars of that era.

The duet one of the previous commenters mentioned, "The House Jack Built for Jill," was in fact filmed but was not, as that commenter stated, slated for the end of the film, but rather for the scene where Bing and Frances escape the rainstorm and find shelter in the farmhouse. I have Norman Taurog's original shooting script and the scene is still extant in the script, including Taurog's blue line through the pages indicating it was filmed.

One of the previous commenters repeated some unfortunately commonly believed misinformation about Frances. Though Frances' institutionalization was certainly no picnic (to say the least), the most horrifyingly sensationalized allegations about her treatment (found in both her ghost-written autobiography and the largely fictionalized "Shadowland") never happened, including the spurious claim that she was lobotomized. My article detailing the truth about these allegations, "Shedding Light on Shadowland," is linked under the Miscellaneous section on the IMDb listing for Frances Farmer. Or you can find it by using a search engine and searching for "Shedding Light on Shadowland."

If you wonder why the inimitable Howard Hawks would state that Frances Farmer was the finest actress he ever worked with, simply take the time to watch "Come and Get It" and see the two totally distinct characters Frances creates in her dual performances as Lotta Morgan (mother) and Lotta Bostrom (daughter). The two women speak differently, sing differently, walk differently--they are two incredible, and individual, creations. The rest of the film unfortunately does not rise to the level of Farmer's performance(s), but it is enjoyable on its own terms in its somewhat sordid tale of a man pursuing the daughter of his long-lost true love. All of the performances are uniformly excellent, the production design is outstanding, and the second unit direction includes some thrilling logging scenes. And while Walter Brennan may have given the Academy Award winning performance from this film, it is the luminous Frances Farmer whose work here elevates her to the ranks of screen legend and who remains lodged in the memory long after the film has ended.

Jessica Lange and Kim Stanley give remarkable performances in "Frances," but if you are looking for anything resembling the truth about this gifted actress, this is *not* the film to see--in fact, unfortunately, no factual account of Frances' life has yet been presented on either the movie or TV screen, with the possible exception of A&E's excellent Biography episode about her.

The film completely fictionalizes and sensationalizes several aspects of Frances' life, inventing characters out of whole-cloth and completely misrepresenting her institutionalization, including spuriously alleging she was lobotomized. There is ample documentary evidence proving Frances never underwent this horrible procedure; you can read the facts in my web article "Shedding Light on Shadowland," which is linked under the miscellaneous sites section on IMDb's Frances Farmer page (or do a Google for "Shedding Light on Shadowland").

In the recent DVD release, director Graeme Clifford can be heard commenting, in what is surely the understatement of the decade, "We didn't want to be nickel and diming the audience to death with facts." The *real* story of Frances Farmer is far more fascinating than this sad exercise in Hollywood "fictionalizing."

Toast of New York was the Heaven's Gate and/or Cleopatra of its day, a film which almost sank its studio, RKO. RKO invested well over $1 million (a huge sum in 1937) into this film and it shows in every frame--incredible sets and costumes and the kind of polish you don't see anymore. The film was beset with pre-production problems, going through several announced stars (Spencer Tracy, Ginger Rogers, etc.) before settling on Farmer, Grant and Arnold. Writer Dudley Nichols was fired and re-hired as the production began shooting. The film, despite its pedigree, was greeted with decidedly mixed reviews and had lukewarm boxoffice response. Uneven in tone and historically inaccurate, it still is grand entertainment in the late 30s manner, with high drama and low comedy interspersed with about equal measure, and excellent performances by Farmer, Arnold and Oakie. Only Cary Grant seems somewhat ill at ease in a role quite different from his usual screen persona. The press materials on Toast are almost as lavish as the film itself, capitalizing on Farmer's recent success in "Come and Get It." The song Farmer sings, "The First Time I Saw You," was a chart hit for Bunny Berigan (who also charted with the theme from another Farmer film, "Ebb Tide") in 1937.

An interesting, fairly high-budget (at least by Universal standards) western, mixing historical characters like Will Bill Hickock and Calamity Jane in a fictional environment. The cast is uniformly excellent and fairly eclectic, including Broderick Crawford and Robert Stack as brothers (and there is quite a family resemblance--NOT), Lon Chaney Jr., comedy relief by Andy Devine and Hugh Herbert, a barbershop quartet (in fact, everything including the kitchen sink), but most importantly, a radiant Frances Farmer in an impressive characterization as Calamity Jane. More luminous than Jean Arthur, and more raucous and even vulnerable than Doris Day, this is easily Farmer's best performance from the last part of her career before her unfortunate arrest and institutionalization. The film seems to have been worked on by several writers, and veers back and forth between straight narrative and some obviously interpolated comedy bits and barbershop numbers. An enjoyable, if historically laughable, western from Hollywood's golden era. Farmer fans will be thrilled.

Another completely peculiar film from Paramount, ostensibly made to capitalize on Akim Tamiroff's growing reputation, but of interest today mostly for the only screen pairing of then-married Frances Farmer and Leif Erickson (billed as Erikson in the film). This film takes the cake plot-wise, dealing with former Cossacks (whatever those are!) who have become cattle rustlers in the USA. Erickson plays the estranged son of Tamiroff, who has to choose between helping his father escape from Leavenworth or pursuing a military career. Farmer, in one of her more interesting screen roles, plays a Russian emigre saloon singer (there must have been a lot of those, don't you think?), doing a credible accent (much like her radio appearance with Errol Flynn in "British Agent"), and singing a wonderful duet in Russian with Leif (who was a professional singer before breaking into movies). The press materials for this film actually spend a lot of time mentioning Farmer's recent stage success with "Golden Boy" (even naming her braided hairstyle "The Golden Girl"), pretty much relegating Erickson and even Tamiroff to the sidelines. A strange, strange motion picture, but indispensable for Farmer fans.

A typical B-film from Paramount of interest today mostly for the debut performance of Frances Farmer in a sympathetic role as the niece of a military school commander. Farmer is surrounded by scores of child actors (including Billy Lee and Carl "Alfalfa" Switzer in a hilarious cameo) and interacts with them beautifully. In fact all of the children are amazingly natural and unforced in their performances. There are of course the requisite heartstring-tugging moments, and a needlessly melodramatic climax featuring a child going over a waterfall in a boat, but the film holds together surprisingly well for its age. Paramount was surprised by the rave reviews this programmer got, especially for Farmer, but they shouldn't have been. This is heads and shoulders above most of the B films which studios routinely churned out on a virtual weekly basis.

Frances Farmer's second film is a typical B-programmer from the Paramount lot of 1936--up and coming stars (John Howard, Robert Cummings, Grant Withers, Farmer) in a largely forgettable and often laughable melodrama concerning the Coast Guard and smugglers. The chief points of interest are the truly exceptional aerial sequences and Farmer's early performance. While Paramount was still struggling with her "look" (note her huge hand-drawn eyebrows, for example), her film persona was already well on its way, including the haughty temperament which she displays in so many of her roles. Grant Withers provides some comic relief while John Howard provides Farmer's romantic interest. Not a great film by any means (or even a very good one), but essential viewing for any Farmer fan.

A movie that would be confined to the dustbin of low-budget history if it were not infamous as the film Frances Farmer was making when she had her breakdown and was arrested in Hollywood, soon to be institutionalized for most of the rest of the decade. The notoriously cheap King Brothers of Monogram Studios must have wanted to use every scrap of film they had shot, for they use a very brief shot of Farmer, evidently taken on the only day of filming she completed on this project, in a montage sequence. The sight of Farmer, staring at the camera with a puzzled and perhaps frightened look on her face as she pulls a shawl over her head, is unforgettable and about the only thing worth remembering about this film.

An interesting Paramount film from 1937 teaming a petulant Frances Farmer and low-key Fred MacMurray as quarreling lovers working for competing newspapers. Charlie Ruggles, as Farmer's father, adds equal doses of slapstick humor and poignancy. The film veers fairly wildly in tone, including jabs at yellow journalism, racketeering and the self-righteous attitudes of some press-people, while working in bits about that oft-quoted conundrum--how do you know for sure that a refrigerator's light goes out when you close the door? Farmer's character is pretty unlikeable, putting down her father, working for a gangster to spite her boyfriend, etc., but she pulls off the role with the panache typical of her early work. In the weird-but-real synchronicity department, a bit actor by the name of William (Billy) Arnold plays a reporter in the film. Farmer fans will know that another "real" reporter named William Arnold made headlines decades later with his sensationalized (and some claim fictionalized) account of Farmer's life.

One of the strangest films to come from a major studio during the golden era of Hollywood, "Ebb Tide" was promoted as "the first South Seas drama in COLOR", and boasts an eclectic (to say the least) cast, including Oscar Homolka (in his US feature debut), Frances Farmer (in her only color film), Ray Milland, Barry Fitzgerald and Lloyd Nolan. Dour, pessimistic, and full of tortured close-ups of Homolka grimacing, this was probably not what movie-goers of 1937 were expecting. On the plus-side, the performances are riveting (though Homolka is difficult to understand at times), and the chance to see the ravishing Farmer in Technicolor splendor is worth wading through a turgid plot involving three ne'er-do-wells shanghaing a quarantined ship to the tropical paradise island of Tehua, where they meet madman Lloyd Nolan. There's also an exciting storm sequence which was the "Perfect Storm" of its day. Based on a story co-written by Robert Louis Stevenson. The only broadcast print in wide circulation is edited and is badly in need of color correction.