Other Men's Women

William A. Wellman came to Hollywood first as an actor, but before that he was a World War I flying ace, then a wing-walker. Douglas Fairbanks discovered him and got him acting parts. Soon Wellman gave up acting, finding it an embarrassing profession, and got into the production side of the business. He directed many silent films, including Wings, the first film to win an Academy Award for Best Picture. Wings is (still) unavailable on DVD, so I'll move on to some pre-Code talkies that Wellman did for Warner Brothers in the early thirties.

I start with Other Men's Women, which was originally titled Steel Highway, but was given this awkward and tawdry title to spice up the box-office. It's standard fare, the kind of film that rolled off the assembly lines and at seventy-minutes in length, was no doubt was part of a double feature at the local bijou, complete with newsreel, short, and cartoon.

The film tells the story of two life-long friends who are now railroad workers. Regis Toomey is an engineer, and Grant Withers is his fireman. Withers is a single guy, a carefree sort. He dates a lot of women, though a waitress at a local diner (called "Eats"), played by Joan Blondell, wants him to marry her. Withers has a bit of a drinking problem, so Toomey takes him under his wing and invites him to live at his house for a while. Big mistake.

Toomey is married to Mary Astor (pictured), and over the months that Withers lives with them the two fall in love. Withers wants to come clean with Toomey, but Astor doesn't, though her fidgety behavior clues Toomey in soon enough. The two men have it out while in the cab of the train, and they fight, causing a collision. Toomey is blinded, and Withers feels terrible guilt. This leads to a climax during a rainstorm that threatens a railroad bridge to be flooded away.

When you watch a film from 1931, there are certain things you have to be prepared for, and one of them is the heavily-ladled melodrama, and the subsequent style of acting. Everything must be taken at face value, as things go by quickly. We don't really see why Astor falls in love with Withers, we just have to accept that she does. But if you look a little below the surface, you can see where Wellman makes this film more interesting than it has a right to be, especially with the scenes involving trains. The opening scene has Withers hopping off a train in front of Eats, and then he goes in, slaps Blondell on the rump, orders his breakfast, and then finishes it time to go back out and hop on the last car of the train, pull himself up to the top, and run along the boxcars. The use of the moving train is a bit breathtaking. The same can be said for a scene in which Withers talks with James Cagney, as another worker. They are standing on top of a moving boxcar, talking about a boxing match, and casually duck as they go under a bridge. There are clearly no stunt men involved, and it would appear the danger is real.

Of course, there are some things that can't be overlooked, such as Toomey's blindness, which he shows by closing his eyes. Then there's the climax, in which Toomey, a blind man remember, makes his way across a busy railroad yard, boards a train, and drives it onto a bridge. That's a feat more impressive than anything Ray Charles ever did.

As for the pre-Code angle (this film is part of a DVD set called Forbidden Hollywood), well, it's certainly not very racy. Yes, Withers and Blondell would seem to be in a relationship that is not exactly chaste, though Blondell does tell customers that she's "A.P.O.," which stands for "Ain't Puttin' Out." The most notable thing about this film is that it is one of Cagney's first, and his starpower, even in his brief scenes, is plainly evident.