The Boob

Holy smokes, everyone! This film isn't THAT bad! Though it did lose money ($30K), and a month after its release in May 1926, Joan herself wrote to an early pen-pal:

I just found out, a picture I made over a year ago called 'Ill Tell the World' Has been released under-'The Boob'. Im so sorry I made such a dreadful mistake. Will you forgive me? You dont need to tell me it was a terrible picture. How well I know. I wouldnt even go to see the preview.

(But then Joan also disliked Rain and Johnny Guitar after reading the reviews of the time, so she's not quite the reliable critic...)

True, The Boob is pretty lightweight. Gertrude Olmstead (very popular in the early/mid '20s, and having recently appeared with Valentino in Cobra and with Garbo in Torrent---and just about to marry director Robert Z. Leonard of later Dancing Lady fame) is top-billed as "Amy," who's in love with a newly arrived city slicker / secret bootlegger Harry (Tony D'Algy). Her simple childhood sweetheart Peter (George K. Arthur) is jealous and mopes about, until goaded into "manly" action by old-time "Injun" fighter and drunkard Cactus Jim (Charles Murray), who, when he sits on and accidentally breaks a bottle, hopes the liquid spilling out is blood instead of his precious alcohol!

Cactus is good for multiple slapstick interludes throughout the film: The scene where Cactus "inspires" Peter to action (and then gets him dressed up in his own old-time Western duds, which Amy later mocks as "Tom Mix clothes") is a clever bit of early film technology: As Cactus reminisces and he and Peter look at a Western painting on the wall, the picture comes to life cinematically with a darker-haired, younger Cactus routing said "Injuns." Cactus's love for alcohol is also funnily portrayed in this Prohibition-era (1920-1933) film: At this early juncture, he stops to take a drink---but not before ostentatiously holding his hat in front of his face to block the view from the camera AND the Prohibition-era film censors. (Similar to today's proscription against showing alcohol consumption in TV commercials---even when advertising alcohol.)

In these early scenes, we're also introduced to "Ham Bunn," a black child of about 8 (uncredited), who's a comedic supplement to Cactus. Reviewers today seem extremely upset by the so-called "Negro dialect"---but...why aren't they equally as upset by the overt "Southern cornpone dialect" of Cactus? Could it be that country folk in the South, whether black or white, both spoke similarly at this time? Or perhaps that film-title writers from New York City might have exaggerated both? Whichever the case, I complete disagree with the post-2016 leftist "racism" charge. Even with "dialect" lines like, "I ain't skeered but I don't jest feel at home. Let's us move!" while in a graveyard, Ham Bunn is a much braver, and smarter, little character than either Cactus or Peter---going off to battle to help Peter, and he's only a kid! (Whereas Cactus only runs after Peter because he left a bottle of booze in the saddle-bag he lent him!)

And, come to think of it, where are the old women protesting the "Home for Impoverished Women" scene---Peter has given an old woman a ride on his horse, and when he drops her off and hands her a flower, the other old women are aghast: "Flirtin'! Sakes alive, sech carryin' on!" Not to mention the scene a few minutes later where Cactus shows up at the home and runs away in fear when he sees the old womens' contorted faces literally (funnily) pressed against the glass looking out at him!

Once all characters have arrived (or nearly arrived) at "The Booklovers' Club," where the bootlegger Harry has taken Amy for a date that evening, there are a few entertaining shots and scenes. A closeup of books on the shelves reveals: Scotch Essays, Vodka: The Spirit of Old Russia, and Gunga Gin. Dinner served to one couple consists of celery sticks and a runaway olive (another camera trick). And there are dancers who start out in full, flouncy 1890s dresses, which disappear at the pull of a keg-tap to reveal bloomers.

It's here where Joan appears for the first time (halfway into the film): She's Jane, huddled undercover at a table with two other Prohibition agents (in a lovely ostrich-trimmed gown), and then following Harry upstairs to listen in on his bootlegging plans. After Peter shows up and shoots up the place in his Western gear (and is tossed out a window, along with the liquor, which Cactus eagerly rescues), she trails him to a nearby graveyard (Joan Scene Two, in an equally attractive outfit), where she at first scares him and then doesn't appear again until the very end, where she (Joan Scene Three, in third attractive outfit) bestows strokes upon his brow and a kiss and "a job with Uncle Sam whenever you want it."

While third-billed after Olmstead and Arthur, Joan has nothing to do here except briefly make suspicious "Prohibition agent" faces and look very pretty. Olmstead was right when she said, according to Joan (Essential Biography), "Why, they could have given the part to any unattractive character actress!"

The top-billed Olmstead, Arthur, and Joan (plus D'Algy) are all non-entities here. I think Cactus and Ham Bunn and Benzine the Dog were the actual stars, in a film clearly meant to appeal to more-rural audiences (and thus decried by big-city reviewers).

The Boob (1926) is not a very good movie, as detailed in a very entertaining review by Fritzi Kramer of the Movies Silently website (link given above on this BOE page). The Boob's major flaw is, I think, leading actor George K. Arthur as Peter Good. Arthur has roles in other Crawford silents like Sally, Irene and Mary and Pretty Ladies (both 1925), Bardelys the Magnificent (1926), and Spring Fever (1927). His most substantial role in a JC flick is Chunky, paramour to Norma Shearer's bad girl persona in Lady of the Night, Joan's inaugural movie. Arthur strikes me as an actor who, while a good supporting cast member, doesn't have the range to carry an entire picture, even only an hour-long movie like The Boob.

Other roles in this film go to Gertrude Olmstead (Amy), whose claim to fame is being replaced as female lead of Ben Hur (1925) by May McAvoy. Charles Murray is a grizzled cowpoke who helps Arthur, when he's not looking to score a drink. Murray's sidekick is an African-American boy, Ham Bunn, whose portrayal is anachronistic and cringe-worthy at best. Tony D'Algy, as Harry Benson, is the villain and contender for Amy's affection. (The dancers in the speakeasy scene of the picture are courtesy of Fanchon and Marco, brother and sister producers; their story is nicely described on fanchonandmarco.com.)

The story revolves around Peter's attempt to win the heart of his crush Amy, who has become enamored with Harry and his suave city slicker ways. Unbeknownst to Amy, Harry is in the illegal hooch racket (as indeed all 1920s movie bad guys seemingly were). To prove he's no boob, Peter decides to bust this gang of n'er-do-wells, following up a tip from that most unimpeachable of sources, a gossipy old lady. It's in this scene---roughly 28 minutes in---that Joan FINALLY appears as Jane, a government revenue agent who is also tracking the bootleggers. For reasons unbeknownst to anyone, Jane enlists the help of Peter and they eventually crack the case. Bad guys go to jail, and Peter wins his rewards: $5,000; the affection of Amy; and best of all, a peck on the cheek from lovely Joan.

Joan is in three scenes: The first is the aforementioned speakeasy scene in which she intrepidly eavesdrops on the bad guys and finds out the location of their hideout. (She looks smashing in a feathery dress.) Her second scene is with Arthur in a graveyard. (Why Joan/Jane doesn't slap Arthur/Peter and tell him he'll be arrested if he interferes with an official investigation, I'll never know.) Her final scene is when the bad guys have been busted. (She looks great in Jazz Age duds, complete with cloche hat.) All told, maybe 5 minutes of screen time, which is perhaps a blessing, given that this movie is such a turkey.

Joan herself thought this movie a dud, as she wrote in response to an early fan letter on this website (June 14, 1926). I read that the movie was initially filmed in 1925 but shelved and released in 1926 to capitalize on Joan's growing star power. Seems plausible given that she was named a WAMPAS baby star in early 1926. Overall, like nearly every movie Joan made in 1925, The Boob only has minor glimpses of our heroine. The 2009 DVD cover features Joan, despite her small role, and I think after nearly a century since The Boob was made, Joan may be the only reason to watch this film. She's very pretty and has the only role that is not a caricature.

Despite the badness of this movie, there's still high-powered talent behind the screen. Sets were designed in part by Cedric Gibbons, who not only designed the Oscar statuette, but went on to win it 11 times! William Daniels was cinematographer. William Wellman was director. Like Joan, all three didn't let this movie derail their careers and went on to win Oscars in their respective specialties.

Veteran actor Charles Murray once told Joan that she should use roles, even minor parts in bad movies like this, to hone her craft. If true, I think Joan's subsequent career shows that she took such advice to heart. So, perhaps we should give this movie a half-star for that. Add in a half-star for the story, for an aggregate 1 star rating.

The Boob is a picture with no artistic value or emotional resonance. It is purely a slapstick comedy, and will be unsophisticated to modern viewers. It is the story, if it can be called that, of a young man (who, incidentally looks like a boy) who goes to town in order to capture bootleggers. There is a motive for this; the young man's childhood sweetheart has run off with a man suspected of shady dealings, and they frequent a speakeasy called "The Booklovers." There is a neat twist in that booze is poured from decanters in the shape of books, a nice trick to fool those prohibition agents. Joan Crawford is a flapper in this, although she doesn't dance, and her screen time is decidedly short. She does not appear until 30 minutes after the flick has started, and is probably on-screen no more than five minutes over this course of the film. The most that can be said of her performance is that she was beautiful. She is in full 1920s style here, with bob and cupid's bow mouth. Her dress in one scene has elaborate feathers and is quite glamorous. Overall, the picture is a low-rent affair, and its only item of interest is the early (although brief) appearance of Joan Crawford.