Jean Harlow Joins the Hollywood Elite with Red-Headed Woman

 

Among the most enjoyable and lively of the early sound films, produced in an era just prior to the Hayes Code watering down the presentation of mature subject matter onscreen, 1932’s Red-Headed Woman allows the vibrant and alluring Jean Harlow the chance to prove her impeccable comic gifts in her first real star performance, after being picked up by MGM for one of the more fruitful collaborations between star and studio (starting with The Beast of the City, released before Woman in early 1932). Helmed with style by Jack Conway, one of the studio’s stalwart directors, the sly and fast-paced Woman screenplay features ace work by Anita Loos and an uncredited F. Scott Fitzgerald, adapting the 1931 novel by Katherine Brush. The quality involved in the writing is evident throughout the inventive tale, which depicts how street-smart girl-on-the-make secretary Lillian Andrews sets out for a better lot in life by using her substantial feminine charms in as unashamed fashion as had been seen on the screen. With an ascendant Harlow, backed by a first-rate list of players, putting over with aplomb a series of adventures and misadventures the fearless Lil finds herself in during a highly entertaining 80 minutes that keeps a view enthralled and guessing just how things will play out for the forward-thinking, independent Lil, audiences then and now can alert themselves to the screen and partake of a prime pre-Code experience.  

 Entering his third decade in films after starting as an actor in early silents starting in 1909, by the early 1930’s Conway had honed his directorial skills to become one of MGM’s chief helmers with hits such as Untamed and Our Modern Maidens (both starring top draw Joan Crawford) under his belt, Conway confidently upfolds the racy story while keeping a keen eye on Harlow’s vibrant comic presence and maintaining a swift pace that never falters. Conway would continue as a stalwart MGM figure behind the camera once the Code became more powerful, with “safer” fare such as A Tale of Two Cities, two more with Harlow, Libeled Lady and her final film, Saratoga, Boom Town, Honky Tonk and The Hucksters to his credit, and it’s interesting to see how entertainingly daring he could manage to put over more mature, sexually driven fare with a modern sensibility when given the chance, with Red-Headed and 1934’s Tarzan and His Mate, the most provocative and maybe best Johnny Weissmuller/Maureen O’Sullivan pairing in that profitable series, offering two fine examples of Conway’s craftsmanship from this less sanitized filmmaking period. After four decades in the business, Conway would retire with 1948’s Julia Misbehaves (but not like Harlow in Red-Headed Woman), considered one of the lesser Greer Garson/Walter Pidgeon ventures, before passing in 1952 at age 66.

As the ultra-bold, fast-talking and quick-witted Lil, Jean Harlow artfully manages to keep the largely unsympathetic character (on paper, at least) immensely likable throughout. Even when Lil is at her most calculating, the good-natured positivity a glowing Harlow emits plants the audience firmly on her side, as one wishes the clever, upbeat vixen to get exactly what she wants, as opposed to what she deserves. Prior to MGM, Harlow established herself as a newcomer of note, with key roles in 1930’s Hell’s Angels (wherein she utters one of the most famous lines found in early sound films about slipping into something more comfortable) and the following year’s The Public Enemy aiding the platinum blonde (also the name of another 1931 Harlow picture) in her swift rise in film. However, in both Angels and Enemy Harlow is rather stilted in her line deliveries, relying more on her stunning appearance to make an impact. With Woman, Harlow demonstrates an inspiring increase in her acting ability that is remarkable to behold. Clearly confident and relaxed on camera once MGM got ahold of her, Harlow appears to relish her juicy assignment as Lil, consistently using her innate sense of comedy and a breezy star persona to illustrate each bold action Lil partakes of in her quest for the finer things in life. For instance, Lil will simply not take no for an answer in hot pursuit (literally) of her virile but married boss Bill, lending an intriguing Fatal Attraction vibe to the proceedings. However, in Harlow’s hands the obsession is also amusing as Lil remains unfettered by any objections Bill tries to level at her as she convincingly contrives to wear him down.

Maintaining a freshness and modern sensibility in regards to how a lady should conduct herself circa 1932, Harlow carries an air of both bemusement and toughness in her ace portrayal of Lil, making one admire her aggressive, lively approach to life. Also aiding Harlow in illustrating Lil’s often rash, highly sexualized nature are some truly awesome, revealing gowns by Adrian, who pushes the limit by creating a series of outfits for Lil that combine aspects of lingerie with a more formal wardrobe, to the point one sometimes wonders if Lil forget to get completely dressed after she arose and headed to the office. Harlow would utilize new persona as a quick-witted, brash goodtime gal able to go toe-to-toe with any top male MGM star (Clark Gable, William Powell, Spencer Tracy, etc.) and generate great chemistry with them in the process with one smash hit after another, starting with Red Dust opposite frequent costar Gable, followed by outstanding work in 1933 via Bombshell and then scene-stealing among a cast of heavyweights (Marie Dressler, who shares a classic exchange with Harlow, Wallace Berry and Lionel Barrymore among them) in Dinner at Eight, wherein she is again clad in iconic Adrian gowns that maximize Harlow’s allure, before continuing apace in regards to box-office and critical appeal with China Seas, Libeled and her biggest hit, 1937’s Saratoga, released posthumously after Harlow’s sudden passing the same year at 26, with her strong MGM output over a scant five years providing a lasting legacy showcasing her exceptional talent as one of the most instinctive and gifted comediennes ever to adorn the Silver Screen. 

By 1932 Harlow’s handsome, stoic leading man Chester Morris was enjoying a great run in films. Although lesser know today, Morris established himself as one of the chief male stars of the early sound era. Born in 1901, Morris honed his craft on the Broadway stage after a 1918 debut, then at the end of the 1920’s made his sound debut in films (after a few earlier roles in silents) via Alibi, gaining a Best Actor Oscar nomination for his work, which led to additional forceful, attention-gaining roles in major hits such as The Divorcee and 1930’s The Big House. As the alternately aloof and frisky Bill Legendre Jr., the businessman Lil can’t stay away from, Morris is amusing in depicting Legendre’s aghast reaction to the title character’s unremitting focus on maintaining a relationship with him in the biblical sense regardless of his married state, while also suggesting the sexiness of the role underneath Bill’s less-than-randy exterior as the businessman time and again can’t resist his urges towards Lil. Unfortunately, Morris’ career would not follow a similar tract as Harlow’s, with 1939’s Five Came Back and a run as Boston Blackie in a series of 1940’s crime dramas among his most rewarding output post Red-Headed, along with several returns to the theater and guest appearances on television during the 1950s and 1960s filling out his resume before his death in 1970.

Among the others, veteran MGM contract player Lewis Stone, also a Best Actor nominee for The Patriot the same year as Morris, makes a solid impression as Bill’s sage, alert father, who knows the score in regards to Lil’s shenanigans. Stone would also appear in 1932’s Best Picture winner Grand Hotel, then gain his greatest fame with the Andy Hardy series starting later in the decade. As Bill’s devoted wife Irene who, in typical classic movie mode, at least partially blames herself for her husband playing the field, the lovely Leila Hyams brings warmth and class to the role, the same year she would help ensure her film legacy starring in two key horror classics, the unforgettable Freaks and Island of Lost Souls. The already much-in-demand Una Merkel plays somewhat against her brassy, knowing persona as Sally, Lil’s roommate who often finds herself taken aback by her friend’s brazen behavior. May Robson makes a brief appearance as Irene’s no-nonsense aunt Jane, a year before she would gain her biggest screen triumph and an Oscar nomination with Lady for a Day, while Henry Stephenson, at the start of a prolific film career as a character actor, is amusing as the skittish Sugar Daddy not sure what to make of Lil’s strong interest in him. Finally, Hollywood newcomer Charles Boyer makes a distinct impact in the small but intriguing role of Albert, Lil’s chauffeur and partner in trysts, before quickly becoming one of the cinema’s most dependable leading men of the next several decades. 

Release in June of 1932, Red-Headed Woman found favor with audiences and critics who were taken by the remarkable ease and skill in which Harlow transformed herself into a major screen presence, one possessing wit and sex appeal in spades. Harlow would quickly cement her place among Tinseltown’s brightest newcomers with the subsequent 1932 release of Red Dust, then thrive throughout her brief but substantial run at MGM. Both Harlow and the film itself have maintained a remarkably modern tone and a fun, daring sensibility over ninety years after the movie’s release, making the pre-code Red-Headed Woman a great option for classic movie buffs, including those interested in seeing Jean Harlow rise to the cinematic forefront, and anyone seeking a carefree, mature comedy that stays far afield from the safer rom-coms of more recent times, putting an unorthodox twist on the battle of the sexes that makes this Woman stand out among other films of its pre-Code ilk.