The Lady Refuses

source: A Lady for Hire

Betty Compson shines in this woman's story of a prim British Lord who rescues a poor woman from the cops, and hires her to save his son, who has drifted away from a career in architecture and into the arms of a scheming gold-digger with a violent Lithuanian pimp. Complications ensue. The "Britishness" of the setting is a bit off, as some of the actors fail to achieve the proper accents, but the rooms in the home of the landed gentry are magnificently over-the-top, as are the apartments of the wealthy, and the glimpse inside a fancy couture shop. These sets present a smashingly florid mash-up of English Manor, Frenchified beaux-arts, and geometric art deco that would fall out of favour shortly, but was the height of luxury at the time. This film flirts with ideas it never names, and although Compson flings herself between virtuous and tough-as-nails, the actual defining moment comes when diminutive Daphne Pollard, as a landlady, bursts into song while scrubbing the floors. The song she sings in her warbling Australian-Cockney voice is the chorus to "She Was Poor But She Was Honest," a British musical hall favourite that may have begun life as a genuinely tragic Victorian lament, but which by World War I had become a burlesque filled with outrageous verses declaimed with mock portentousness. It's the same the whole world over It's the poor what gets the blame It's the rich what get the pleasure Ain't it all a blooming shame? Look up Elsa Lanchester's version on You Tube and listen closely to the lyrics. There are countless verses, but these two, which appear in many versions, form an actual gloss on the plot: She was poor but she was honest, Victim of the squire's whim; First 'e loved 'er, then 'e left 'er And she lost 'er name through 'im. Then she ran away to London For to 'ide 'er grief and shame; But she met another squire And she lost 'er name again. I wonder if Daphne Pollard improvised the singing of that song or if it was really in the script. Either way, it certainly fits.

. . . to them, like in the tale of that rich dude who kills his dad and marries his mom. THE LADY REFUSES finds a filthy rich Gerald hiring June to play Mother Hen to his son Russell. But soon BOTH Gerald and Russell are hankering after June. After taking a wild swing at dear old dad (like someone enacting a Greek Tragedy), father and son quickly come to their senses and task family lawyer James with drawing up a prenuptial agreement for the marital trio. To whit, in order that bigamy charges be avoided, Russell and his pops Gerald agree to enjoy Mother June consecutively, rather than concurrently. To keep things on the up and up, this family triangle will shelter under TWO roofs, not one. With Mother's Day and Halloween locked in as the only permissible menage a trois dates, THE LADY REFUSES crosses all of its teas as well as blotting out the eyes.

We can't really expect low-budget pre-code melodramas to be 'great films'. They're automatically of historical interest because of the themes they dare to explore and which were banished from the screen in 1934. If you have decent actors, and interesting enough plot and some "daring" dialog many of these films can be enjoyable, if ultimately disposable. THE LADY REFUSES is a dead serious entry and thanks to Gilbert Emery and star Betty Compson it works in its own terms. Compson does well as a "woman of the street" who happens upon a sympathetic, lonely, older rich man who takes her under his wing. She's smart and perceptive about his situation: a beloved son has no time for his father. When Emery enlists attractive Compson to help lure the son away from a "bad woman", things get complicated. It doesn't all go as you'd expect. Among the better of the lesser-known pre-code movies now back in circulation, it's no masterpiece but Emery and Compson raise it a bit above the average.

I saw this film on YouTube and was rather impressed by it. The adult themes of the interesting story held my attention, but what really sold me was, to me, the always-good Betty Compson, an actress whose heyday was in the silent films, and though she couldn't sing or dance, became quite popular in the early talkie days by virtue of the fact that she not only had a fine speaking voice, but she could really act. She's just fine playing the street girl with the heart-of-gold here, and the story and settings are good as well. If I can fault the production, it's in the fact that, despite being set in London, no one (save for Daphne Pollard) speaks with anything like a British accent. I chalk this up to it's "early talkie" status and the fact that, perhaps in those days, the producers weren't sure that a genuine British accent would go over with a "Yank" audience. The theme music over the opening and closing credits is "My Dream Memory", from Betty's 1929 picture, Street Girl. In that picture, Betty did her own playing on the violin of that song.

Gilbert Emery, as a patrician English peer, Sir Gerald Courtney, dominates this film as he tries to bring his rakehell son Russell (John Darrow) closer to him through a secret strategem involving June (Betty Compson), an economically distressed young woman. To regain Russell's affection, Sir Gerald offers June, whom he has rescued from incipient prostitution, one thousand pounds in this London-based work, for her efforts in dissuading his wayward son from an alliance with a golddigger played by Margaret Livingston. Compson, an accomplished actress during the silent era, does her best to portray a worldly woman given an unexpected beneficence by fate, but she is hampered by a script which is clumsily written with a good deal of dialogue bordering upon gaucherie. After escaping from a pair of zealous bobbies, with assistance from Sir Gerald, June is established by him into an apartment building shared with the unwitting Russell, and is graced as well with a lavish wardrobe at a couturiere's, this latter being probably the picture's most defined moment. June's good works for the salving of Russell are dealt with in some detail, and are obviously largely appreciated by Sir Gerald, but her relationships with both father and son are skimpily sketched and emotional liaisons appear to be rather abruptly developed and severed. Veteran director George Archainbaud seems to have scant vision for whatever niceties the weak scenario might bring, and his handling of the cast and storyline are perfunctory with too many scenes marked by absence of sense; fortunately, the editing is very efficient. Although this affair begins and ends with a tendency towards placing atmosphere above plot, the last unfortunately mars the work; some fine acting turns are somewhat redemptive, particularly those by the always polished Emery and by Halliwell Hobbes as the Courtney family barrister.

Betty Compson was one of the very few silent stars who's career kick started again at the dawn of the talkies. She had a few lucky breaks in her career - first "The Miracle Man"(1919) was her breakthrough to stardom, then when she was almost forgotten Josef von Sternberg came to her rescue with "The Docks of New York", lastly when talkies came in studio heads realised she could play the violin - and loved it in those gimmicky, singie, dancey days. That kept her afloat during the early 30s and she was kept busy with whatever type of genre they threw at her. This role suited her to a tee - she plays June, a girl down on her luck whose first night on "the game" has turned into a cat and mouse chase with two interfering bobbies!! She is saved by Gerald Courtney (Gilbert Emery) who wants to "hire" her as a decoy to lure his son Russell (John Darrow) away from bad booze and bad women - one Berthine (Margaret Livingston). He sees how well June fits into the gentry atmosphere and performs a "Pygmalion" act on her, clothing her from head to foot in the height of fashion. So June and Russell "meet" and she proves she can be a real pal to him so he soon forgets Berthine but June finds herself falling in love with his father and Gerald more than reciprocates!! All very complicated as of course Russell falls in love with her and the knowledge that not only has he been duped but his rival is his own father is enough to send him scuttling back to Berthine - and she is happy to oblige!! But Berthine has a jealous lover (Ivan Lebedeff) who has shown from the start that if she crosses him, she will never cross again and before you know it Russell is arrested for murder. The setting was London and Compson showed she had really soaked up the accents and atmosphere from her trips to England in the 1920s. John Darrow was a pretty poor actor who never escaped poverty row, Margaret Livingston had been a silent vamp ("Sunrise") whose career foundered in the talkies but she found lasting happiness as Mrs. Paul Whiteman!!

Talky early talkie can't rise above its theatrical roots. Betty Compson is far too old (36 when this movie was released) and American to pass herself off as a Londoner fallen on bad times who can be hired to seduce rakehell John Darrow (who seems to know better than to attempt an English accent). Gilbert Emery is best in a stiff-upper-lip performance enhanced by his remarkable vocal and physical similarity to Stephen Fry. But this tale of a woman saved from the London streets so she can save the son from making the wrong choice is marred by blurry details, as if most of the story has taken place out of frame. What story remains moves slowly, and holds tight to its stereotypes of upper classes, comic butlers, loose women, and sneering foreigners. For devotees of early talkies only.

"The Lady Refuses" is in itself a good title. It indicates a woman has taken control of her own life and is not going to be pressured into anything. So often in the prewar movies we find that women never refuse, especially when it comes to marriage. I'd put "The Lady Refuses" on par with "Millie" for movies of that era starring an independent woman. Our Lady in this flick is June (Betty Compson) and it's not marriage that she refuses. She was on the streets of England, on a rainy night, trying to get away from police when Sir Gerald Courtney (Gilbert Emery) opened his door for her. The indications were that she was a prostitute, but that word would never be uttered on screen in the 30's. They just use every silly innuendo to hint at a woman being a prostitute. Words like sex, or even euphimisms for sex, were never spoken, so sex for money was definitely out of the question. So how could they indicate her profession? She's a common girl (not rich), walking on the rainy streets late at night, unescorted, and the police recognized her as a "new girl." The police, of course, would never say why they were after her, they just stammered with statements like "we thought she was a..." and the like. Then you have June who told Gerald, "You see, this is my first night at that sort of thing... I was broke and I decided it was either that or the bridge." Gerald followed with, "And just tonight you decided to put yourself...uhh... let us say... on the market?" "I'm afraid I have," was June's reply. June was a bit of a godsend for Sir Gerald. At the time his son was being seduced by an unscrupulous woman who was preventing him from fulfilling his goal of becoming an architect. Gerald offered June 1000 pounds ($5000) to woo his son, Russell (John Darrow), away from his current fling, Berthine Waller (Margaret Livingston). June took the job and was wonderful at it so the expected happened: Russell fell in love with June, but June was in love with Gerald who was also in love with June. What a tangled web we weave. The web got even more entangled when June let Russell know that she was hired to "accompany" him. Russell thought he had something real only to find out that June was a professional. We'd see something similar decades later in the movie "True Romance," but in that movie Christian Slater and Patricia Arquette (the prostitute) fell in love with no secrets. What's likable about this movie is that June held her own with the two men. She knew what she was and what she wasn't. Gerald, in particular, knew what she was, but she wasn't going to let Gerald bring her down. It was a rather unconventional love story for the times, but I think it was done better than similar love stories done later (I'm looking at you "Pretty Woman" and "True Romance").

Sad morally questionable British drama/romance about a father who hires a new prostitute to lure his son away from a gold digger...but in the process falls in love with her himself! Of course the lady in question starts bringing up the "code among gentleman" and how he would always wonder or question her. Wonderful early 30's clothing and set. I learned that cocktails and ice were an American thing. If you are ok with melodrama this might be for you. "Beds aren't respectable, especially this bed, wicked little spider." "Don't worry, don't blush, I once studied to be a nurse."