McCrea, Oberon and Hopkins Dramatically Compel as These Three

A rare example of a classic film thriving instead of being hindered by Production Code limitations, director William Wyler’s enthralling 1936 adaptation of Lillian Hellman’s controversial 1934 Broadway success The Children’s Hour astoundingly loses none of the story’s dramatic punch in one of the better stage-to-screen transitions. The major aspect of the play regarding lesbianism had no chance of being hinted at onscreen but, aided by Hellman’s masterful screenplay, which substituted a hetero love triangle as a means of addressing, with the same impact, all the other plot elements, Wyler and his united, inspired cast, all working at their creative peaks, manage to create a work of stunning force, with many intense sequences lasting in memory long after a viewing, helping to place Three high among the 1930’s most transfixing cinematic dramas.

                Starting in films in the 1920’s directing Westerns before honing his craft in early sound films, 1936 proved to be a breakout year for Wyler, with three major critical and popular offerings for producer Samuel Goldwyn; besides Three, he also did adept work behind the camera with Come and Get It and another 1930s masterwork, Dodsworth. Wyler does a skillful job of upholding a tense, uneasy tone during the emotionally driven scenes, while enriching the viewing experience by adding the story’s lighter and romantic moments in an adroit, believable way. He also directs the first-rate cast superbly, showcasing each player’s thespian abilities in often breathtaking fashion, resulting in one of the best ensemble groups ever found in a classic film. Wyler would maintain the high quality of output he achieved in 1936 during the next few decades, scoring three Best Director Oscars in the process (among twelve nominations, a record, with Dodsworth his first) and responsible for some of Classic Hollywood’s most enduring and outstanding works, including Wuthering Heights, The Best Years of Our Lives, The Heiress, Roman Holiday and Ben Hur.

                Top-billed Miriam Hopkins had firmly established herself as one of 1930’s cinema primary leading ladies, with standout, daring work in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Ernst Lubitsch’s Trouble in Paradise, The Smiling Lieutenant and Design for Living among the films proving her worth as both a comedic and dramatic force onscreen. Following a strong 1935, wherein she costarred with Edward G. Robinson in Howard Hawks’ Barbary Coast and also scored with Oscar-nominated work in the first Technicolor feature, Becky Sharp, Hopkins combines strength and despondency as Martha, who finds herself suffering the most after damning accusations render the title trio helpless to their community’s wrath. Hopkins finely balances Martha’s fragility in the wake of the onslaught with the character’s anger and fighting spirit, suggesting Martha has the determination to survive the unjust claims. Hopkins career would slowly move from leading status, with fruitful collaborations to come opposite rival (onscreen and off) Bette Davis in The Old Maid and Old Acquaintance, before eventually moving into character parts, wherein Wyler would grant her two of her best roles, as the well-meaning, friendly Aunt Lavinia in one of his best, The Heiress, and in a much starker vein as the cold, vengeful wife in 1952’s underrated Carrie.

                Merle Oberon also had witnessed a swift rise to the top during the decade, with a breakthrough in 1933’s The Private Life of Henry VIII leading to appearances as one of the loveliest leading ladies the screen had yet witnessed in such prime romantic fare as The Scarlet Pimpernel and The Dark Angel, for which Oberon received her sole Oscar nomination. Although the tranquil Oberon always displayed poise, among her high-class roles she rarely was afforded the chance to suggest a fully rounded characterization onscreen. However, in Three Oberon exhibits a great deal of warmth, humor and understanding as Karen Wright, who starts a school with college friend Martha and then encounters trials that tests the limits of their loyalty. Oberon does a terrific job showing Karen’s high moral character and steely reserve in the face of adversaries, with her indignant “These are my friends” confrontation scene ranking among Oberon’s best moments on film. She’s also wonderful in depicting Karen’s shock and confusion over the initial, sudden hate directed at her and Martha, illustrating how senseless and harmful a mob mentality can be in latching onto a blind accusation. Oberon would go on, once again under Wyler’s direction, to her best-known role as Cathy, the conflicted heroine in 1939’s Wuthering Heights, but her work in Three may remain her most fully realized performance.

                As was the case virtually every time he appeared onscreen, Joel McCrea brings credibility, sensitivity, skill and naturalness to his role of Joseph Cardin, the handsome young doctor who aids Karen and Martha in building and establishing their dream school, while also becoming romantically involved with Karen. A Los Angeles local, McCrea started out doing stunt and extra work in the 1920s, before moving into more substantial roles via 1930’s The Silver Horde. After this step up, McCrea was a leading man mainstay for the rest of his career, with appearances in Bird of Paradise, The Most Dangerous Game, The Silver Cord (opposite Irene Dunne and the lovely Frances Dee, who quickly became Mrs. McCrea) preceding his standout work in Three. McCrea deftly delivers throughout the movie, both in early scenes wherein he adopts a wonderfully playful, affectionate chemistry with Oberon as Joe and Karen’s romance blossoms, then later in a more dramatic mode, as Joe stands by Karen and Martha through their ordeal, serving as an audience identification figure as Joe tries to maturely yet forcefully address and help resolve the machinations directed at his friends.

During the rest of the 1930s and 1940s McCrea would continue to thrive in top productions, demonstrating his seemingly easy affinity in both comedies and dramas with screen acting of the highest order, including Wyler’s Dead End, Cecil B. DeMille’s Union Pacific, Alfred Hitchcock’s Foreign Correspondent, at his most iconic in Preston Sturges’ Sullivan’s Travels, aces opposite Claudette Colbert in another Sturges’ A-1 effort, The Palm Beach Story, and George Stevens’ The More the Merrier. McCrea’s intelligent, direct playing in these classics have stood the test of time, with the talented, unpretentious star giving performances that have sustained their freshness and believability in a much more persuasive manner than many of his more famous and critically acclaimed contemporaries, suggesting McCrea deserved a lot more recognition as a top film actor during his heyday (an Oscar nomination or five would’ve been nice, for starters). Moving on to Westerns in the 1950s led to a fitting cinematic sendoff via the genre, with Sam Peckinpah’s classic 1962 Ride the High Country provided McCrea a beautiful final screen triumph, including one of the more memorable character exits on film. Afterwards McCrea would enjoy a long, affluent retirement with Dee and their family (McCrea had wisely purchased a lot of real estate during his career, in addition to owning a ranch) before his passing in 1990.

Although the film’s title subjects are enacted with verve and precision by Hopkins, Oberon and McCrea, upon the film’s release critical and public reaction centered around two of the most remarkable child performances ever committed to film. As Mary Tilford, the odious, brazen young student determined to have her own way using any measure necessary, Bonita Granville performs with an inspired, arresting acting style that makes it near-impossible to watch anyone else when’s she onscreen, whether she be flailing about or behaving in a more subtle, intent manner that fully suggests just how evil Mary can be in gaining her advantages. The focus, intensity and conviction Granville brings to the role lends enables Mary to be one of the most fascinating, creepy juveniles ever committed to the screen. Granville would continue to prosper into her ingenue years, scoring particularly well as the cousin who gives Bette Davis’ Charlotte a hard time at the outset of 1942’s Now Voyager, but Three would remain her most indelible work on film.

Making an (at least) equally sensational impression as Rosalie Wells, the fragile, tormented “vassal” of Mary, Marcia Mae Jones offers some of the most electrifying, emotionally naked histrionics ever seen, as Rosalie is forced to go against her will to protect Mary leading to, in the movie’s most harrowing sequence, a hysterical breakdown done in shattering, heartbreakingly believable fashion by Jones. The young star is so hypnotically moving in the role, in an ultra-realistic manner, one wishes Jones’ career had gained more momentum past her childhood heyday, with Rosalie left to stand as an enduring testament to her special, unforgettable dramatic gifts on screen.

Further indicating the remarkable quality of performance found in Three, Alma Kruger is vividly effective as the stately Ameila Tilford, Mary’s devoted grandmother who misguidedly initiates the scandal central to the story. Kruger does a superlative job detailing Ameila’s conflicted state of mind as she becomes embroiled in the drama brought about by Mary’s deceit and is particularly memorable in her firm “Are you telling me the truth?” questioning of her unperturbed, defiant offspring. As Martha’s flighty aunt, Lily Mortar, Catherine Doucet brings welcome lighter moments to the proceedings, fully embracing Lily’s overbearing, ungratified drama queen behavior as she constantly critiques her niece. Finally, elite character actors Margaret Hamilton and Walter Brennan are also on hand to make brief but distinct impressions.

                One testament to the quality of These Three is how well it compares to Wyler’s 1961 update of the material which, in the wake of a decaying Production Code, allowed a much closer representation of Hellman’s landmark play, including the theme of lesbianism. Although the more modern film has some fine acting, particularly by Audrey Hepburn, Shirley MacLaine and the Oscar-nominated Fay Bainter, it does not maintain a consistent tone or carry the appreciable, memorable dramatic weight of These Three. Upon release in March of 1936, the film received healthy box office revenues and was heralded for retaining the potency of the play regardless of the censorship, with Granville, who received one of the first Best Supporting Actress nominations at the Academy Awards, and Jones singled out for their incisive, impact work. Nearly 90 years later, These Three continues to offer audiences a thrilling viewing experience, allowing them to witness Wyler and his nimble, imposing cast at the top of respective powers, adding depth and resonance to one of Hellman’s signature works.