Well, here it is - the second entry in my "100 Favorite Movie Performances" series. After having already examined the mostly silent era of the 1910s/20s, it's time for the portrayals of the 1930s. This was a time of lavish set design, outrageous story-lines, and over-the-top production value. The cinema of sound had recently become the talk of the town (pun intended), and Hollywood performers couldn't wait to strut and fret their hours upon the silver screen. In my opinion, the following ten portrayals are the best of this exciting, seemingly unrestrained decade.
10.) Clark Gable as "Rhett Butler" in Gone With the Wind (1939): While the bulk of this film's hefty drama is placed on the confident shoulders of Vivien Leigh's "Scarlett O'Hara," Clark Gable's complex "Rhett Butler" adds color, nuance, and vitality. This is a great role, and Gable seems to know it. He drinks in every scene like precious water in the fiercest drought, relishing each line of dialogue and each careful mannerism.
9.) Claude Rains as "Dr. Jack Griffin" in The Invisible Man (1933): Is this performance a little over-the-top? Perhaps. Is it believable? Maybe not. Is it satisfying and enjoyable? Most certainly YES. In this nifty horror-mystery classic, Claude Rains plays his invisible man like a cartoonish Hamlet, crackling with electricity and madness. He fulfills the "man gone mad" archetype in stride, scheming with exaggerated motions and cackling with a voice of commanding thunder.Thanks to the title character's curious handicap, this role is communicated mostly through voice, and Rains is truly excellent, nonetheless.
8.) Lew Ayres as "Paul Baumer" in All Quiet On the Western Front (1930): For all its technical achievements and inventive film-making, it's easy to overlook the impressive portrayal of Paul Baumer, a young German soldier with too much to prove, in All Quiet On the Western Front. He provides a note of humanity in an uncompromising story, and gives viewers someone to rally around.
7.) Peter Lorre as "Hans Beckert" in M (1931): While 1930's moviegoers had a veritable slew of creepy performances to enjoy (Bela Lugosi in Dracula, Boris Karloff in Frankenstein, etc.), rookie actor Peter Lorre decided to give audiences someone to truly despise. In playing child murderer Hans Beckert, Lorre shuffles through the nighttime alleys of Berlin, excitedly whistling "In the Hall of the Mountain King" and stalking the city's innocence. This performance is the disquieting centerpiece of a very uncomfortable film. Simply put: it is terrific.
6.) Claudette Colbert as "Ellie Andrews" in It Happened One Night (1934): A funny role in a funny movie, Claudette Colbert is an absolute delight in the romantic comedy classic It Happened One Night. Although it would have been easy to slip into the comfortable realm of the cliche (which is practically a staple of the genre), Colbert decided to add dimension and depth to her character, elevating her above the relatively humdrum script and giving leading-man Clark Gable the perfect foil.
5.) Thomas Mitchell as "Doc Boone" in Stagecoach (1939): During his Academy Award acceptance speech (for Best Supporting Actor), Thomas Mitchell said of his deeply convincing turn as the drunken Doc Boone, "I didn't know I was that good." A funny line, sure, but one that totally sums up Mitchell's performance in Stagecoach - one that is honest, natural, and totally without pretense.
4.) Olivia de Havilland as "Melanie Hamilton" in Gone With the Wind (1939): Although this is one of the most famous movies ever made, ripe with great actors in great roles, it is the saintly Melanie Hamilton, Scarlet O'Hara's tacit rival, that resonates with the most truth. It can often be hard to find Hollywood performances that don't feel like performances at all, but here is one that is offhanded and easy. In both manner and voice, in both character and soul, Melanie's tenderness and grace reach out from over 70 years of impenetrable history and captivates.
3.) Charlie Chaplin as "The Tramp" in City Lights (1931): This is unquestionably the funniest, most sincere film of Chaplin's career. At the movie's golden heart is "The Tramp," that curious, altruistic icon of silent cinema. Although "talkies" had proliferated Hollywood years before, Chaplin decided to break with the new norm and write, direct, produce, and star in another silent picture. Herein, Chaplin paints an emotional mosaic upon a wonderful pallet of facial expressions, body language, and natural physicality. The Tramp's comic moments are overwhelmingly hilarious (seriously - it's impossible not to laugh), and his tragedies are painfully melancholic. You'll be dazzled by City Lights.
2.) Jimmy Stewart as "Jefferson Smith" in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939): One of the decade's best performances comes from an American classic - this of course being Frank Capra's delightful Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, the tale of a small-town man who experiences first-hand the soaring heights and sickening lows of America's political machine. Here we see the talented Mr. Stewart (who, suffice it to say, will appear time and again throughout this "100 Performances" series) as the title character, a man whose heart beats and bleeds upon his sleeve, whose vibrant emotions are never far from view. Watching him slide from boyish naivete to fiery cynicism is fascinating, with the film's climactic filibuster epitomizing Stewart's soulful portrayal. This is the grandaddy of all underdog stories, and it's impossible not to root for the hero. If you give this film a chance, I promise you won't be disappointed.
1.) Ruan Lingyu as "The Mother/The Goddess" in The Goddess (1934): Hands down, without a doubt in my mind, this is the best film performance of the 1930s. The Goddess, an obscure gem from China (obscure, at least, in the West), is a cinematic treasure. It is a soft, contemplative film about the measures to which a mother will go for her child. The mother, of course, is played with breathtaking realism by Ruan Lingyu, in one of her last roles before her suicide in 1935. While I believe all the performances on this list are three-dimensional, Lingyu's hints at a fourth: this being a dimension of time. A youthful glow is replaced by world weariness - eager movements traded in for a deliberate slowness. Although during filming she was only in her early twenties, the burden she adopted to play this character is hard to believe. This is an incredible movie, with a role at its center that is unbelievably delicate, fierce, and beautiful. It must be seen to be believed.