Review of Mantrap

Mantrap (1926)
7/10
"Ankles ain't half of what they're showing"
6 December 2011
Of all those long-gone silent movie stars, Clara Bow is one of the few whose name is widely remembered. She is seen as epitomising the Jazz-age floozy; fun-loving and promiscuous in that brief period when these things weren't frowned upon in the movies. Actually Bow played a lot of relatively tame leading lady roles as well – it was her offscreen antics that garnered her reputation. But once in a while she played a role that lived up to the stereotype, as in the bluntly-titled Mantrap.

Mantrap shows Clara at her most lively, playing her effortless flirtatiousness to the hilt. As this is also a comedy she gets to exaggerate a little, proving to be very good at this – humorous, but not overly theatrical. Playing opposite her is the Ernest Torrence, who because of his size and looks was generally cast as villains. He does well against type here though, showing a kind of awkward sensitivity towards Bow. Also to be seen here is Eugene Palette, his tubby sidekick persona just beginning to emerge (although it wouldn't really solidify until the coming of sound added his voice to the mix).

The director was Victor Fleming, one of many action-loving young men working in Hollywood at the time. For Fleming, the image really has to keep moving, and he makes the action snappy with lots of tracking shots and pans round the room. Often this attention-grabbing style is very much functional. For example, he gives Percy Marmont ("Ralph") a very memorable introduction with his face suddenly revealed. This is necessary because he then disappears from the narrative for a while, only to re-emerge as a main character. He saves an absolutely brilliant entrance for Bow herself, having her appear from behind a curtain in the background and, as if incidentally, has her saunter forward until she is in close-up.

Despite what the title implies, Mantrap is a rather playful affair that shows the men in Clara's life as becoming exasperated rather than ensnared by her. It's remarkably even-handed though, and she gets to assert her independence in style. If you want to see the real vision of a 1920s femme fatale, you have to look at the dubiously moral pictures of Cecil B. DeMille. But coming at it from this different angle, Mantrap is more in the way of good-natured fun.
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