The Double Feature: Salon Scandals
Our theme for tonight’s double feature is the 1930s beauty salon. The salon was oft-used cinematic setting for feminine feuds to fester, infidelities to be revealed, and close friendships to grow or falter. The pseudo-privacy afforded to patrons by the flapping ears of their beauticians provide ample opportunity for the proliferation of exposition, gossip, and rumors. Films set in the salon also serve as real life insight into what gender politics and social roles were promoted by the studios and censors of the era, and we will briefly visit that subject after we enjoy tonight’s offerings.
Hair-Raising Hare (Merrie Melodies, 1946, Warner Bros)
Mel Blanc, dir. Chuck Jones (as. Charles M. Jones)
Beguiled by a curvaceous mechanical rabbit, Bugs is lured into a mad scientist’s castle. The mad scientist—a Lorre caricature—intends to turn Bugs into dinner for his hairy monster, Gossamer. Bugs attempts escape in typical Bugs fashion, most famously impersonating a manicurist who’s INTereSTed in INTereSTin’ people. 💅
This short is a bonafide classic that I’m sure many of you have seen before. The beautician bit (similarly portrayed in 1952’s Water, Water Every Hare) is one of Bug’s funniest and a familiar sight to movie-goers at the time. The chatty, heavily accented manicurist or hairdresser is a common motif in comedies of the era and gave many a character actress and wannabe starlet her 15 seconds of fame. (My Letterboxd rating)
Soup and Fish (Todd and Kelly, 1934, Hal Roach/MGM)
Thelma Todd, Patsy Kelly, Billy Gilbert, Gladys Gale, dir. Gus Meins
Thelma and Patsy are hairdressers in a fancy salon. When a wealthy client mistakenly invites them to her evening soirée, the women are tasked with entertaining guest-of-honor Count Gustav. Thelma sets out to romance the count, while Patsy tries out some of her “tricks” on him. Thankfully, the count appears better humored than the party’s staff…
This is the fifth entry in the Thelma Todd-Patsy Kelly partnership that would end far too soon with Thelma’s untimely passing in late 1935. What a shame to conclude in such tragedy, doubly so now that Todd and Kelly aren’t well remembered as a comedy duo—neither are the preceding Pitts and Todd, nor the succeeding Kelly and Kelton, Kelly and Roberti, or Pitts and Kelly. Regardless of being denied their proper place in our cultural memory, Patsy and Thelma had chops and chemistry that made even predictable gags funny. (My Letterboxd rating)
Daily Beauty Rituals (1937, Brown-Nagle/Educational Films Corp. of Am.)
Constance Bennett, dir. unknown
Glamorous star Constance Bennett shares her daily skincare and makeup routine with the women of the audience, for “to be beautiful and natural is the birthright of every woman.”
An interesting routine that I’d be curious to see someone follow to the letter as a test… and don’t you dare be one of those lazy cream rouge antis. In case you need something other than beautiful Constance in color to pay attention to, RiffTrax provides great commentary here.
Visit a 1930’s Beauty Salon (c. 1938, posted 2020, glamourdaze)
NEWSREEL: AI colorized and enhanced footage of Pattons and beauticians inside Caroll’s Beauty Shop in Hamtramck, MI, circa 1938.
Peek those torture devices! They’re kinda calling to me, though…
Beauty for Sale (1933, MGM)
Madge Evans, Una Merkel, Otto Kruger, Alice Brady, dir. Richard Boleslawski
An innocent but game woman obtains a job at a beauty salon for wealthy patrons, alongside hardboiled and streetwise beauticians seeking love and security in an unforgiving world.
Beauty for Sale is a severely underrated Pre-Code with bite! The salon herein sets the stage for complicated—often illicit—romantic entanglements. Positions at Madame Sonia’s (well-cast Hedda Hopper) salon provide opportunities for love and a change in economic status at the risk of losing one’s sense of self, as played out in the lives of three women:
Letty Lawson, the small-town woman trying to make it in the big city, playing the game while preserving as much of her moral compass as she can. The game gets complicated, however, when she falls for lawyer Mr. Sherwood (Otto Kruger), who is eager to progress their relationship despite being unhappily married to one of Madame Sonia’s top clients (Alice Brady). Meanwhile, circumstances pressure Letty to leave the lurid salon life to settle down with Bill Merrick (Edward J. Nugent), brother of her best friend. Portrayed by confident—and yes, adorable—Madge Evans.
Carol Merrick, Letty’s wised-up best friend and confidante. Carol is involved with an older sugar daddy (Charley Grapewin), knowing better than to fall prey to feelings again after having been abandoned by her only love, a married man who went back to his wife. Una Merkel is in top form.
Jane, a kind and meek beautician secretly in a relationship with Madame Sonia’s son, Burt (Phillips Holmes). Madame Sonia would never allow her precious boy to date an employee, but Jane and Burt don’t let that deter them—as long as it’s in private. As their relationship develops, they must decide how to proceed in public. Is this real love, or is Jane being strung along? Florine McKinney didn’t have many opportunities as a leading woman or secondary lead beyond 1935 or so, but she makes the most of her truncated screentime here thanks to her light touch and sensitivity. (My Letterboxd rating)
Norma Shearer, Joan Crawford, Rosalind Russell, Mary Boland, Paulette Goddard, Joan Fontaine, dir. George Cukor
After news of her husband’s ongoing affair spreads like wildfire through the patrons of a salon, a woman decides to go to Reno for a divorce, finding camaraderie with a group of soon-to-be former wives involved in thorny relationships.
MGM’s latest foray into beauty salon drama was a smashing success. The Women, based on a stage play of the same name and concept, garnered resounding praise in 1939 and is one of studio’s best remembered treasures, no doubt due to the behemoth star-power of its all-women cast. Besides the leads noted above, you will recognize a slew of other notables in minor roles or cameo appearances, including Virginia Wiedler, Ruth Hussey, Virginia Grey, and Hedda Hopper. Marjorie Main, Phyllis Povah, and Mary Cecil recreate their roles from the original play.
Mary Haines (Norma Shearer) is happily married to Stephen. During a manicure, however, Mary’s cousin Sylvia Fowler (Rosalind Russell) finds out that Stephen is engaged in an affair with Crystal Allen (Joan Crawford), a known homewrecker. Instead of letting her down easy, Sylvia arranges for Mary to see the manicurist so the juicy gossip is revealed via salon (thanks, cuz 😒). Mary intends to work it out with her philanderer until she meets Crystal and everyone in her social circle finds out, thanks to Sylvia and Edith (Phyllis Povah). This prompts Mary to finally put her foot down and divorce Stephen.
She sets out for a ranch in Reno, where she will stay the required 6 weeks until her quickie divorce is finalized. There she meets a countess (Mary Boland) divorcing her umpteenth husband to marry her nextteenth husband (a cowboy, this time!), chorus girl Miriam (Paulette Goddard) whose intentions have been set on Sylvia’s husband, and sensitive Peggy (Joan Fontaine) being pressured to divorce her new husband by the gossip mill.
Although Mary has second thoughts about the divorce, she discovers that he has already married Crystal before she can return to him (what a charmer that Stephen is). The story picks up a couple years later with things going about as well as you’d expect for all involved parties, but I’ll spare you more spoilers and let you see for yourself how the intrigue resolves.
While both films have their own merits and are well worth any moviegoer’s time, I’d like to briefly discuss how the films frame sociopolitical attitudes about the "women's picture" and modern relationships broadly. Turn your attention to the respective taglines of Beauty for Sale and The Women: “Which Type of Girl Do Men Marry?” and “It’s All About Men.” These taglines, by nature of their principal positions on the advertisement posters, represent what the studios thought made these films appealing and sellable, namely that women’s lives can and should be portrayed as revolving around men—not at all unlike Old Hollywood’s real-life patriarchal and predatory attitude toward its actresses (TW: descriptions of rape, abuse). Tonight’s double feature, however, reflects two clashing factions acting within a system of onscreen female exploitation: One confirming stereotypes and promoting their acceptance and one managing to assert a spoonful of autonomy by working around them.
Despite the powerful group of screen goddesses blinding audiences with their talent and wit and glitz, The Women remains precisely what the poster says it is: a movie about men, starring women. The conflicts are about men. Most of the conversations are about men. The women get into rows and backstab one another over men. Their thoughts and actions are guided and defined by men who, in Mary’s case at the very least, don’t deserve a second thought, let alone a second chance. But that second chance is exactly what they get, and the women learn to like it—even fight for it, tooth and Jungle Red nail. In 1939, the message is clear: The object of a woman’s desire, the ruler of her heart, and the light of her life is Man… so says the studio mogul, the producer, the ad man, the censors, et al.
On the face of it, Beauty for Sale is hardly different. It’s a story about women being used and abused by men individually, or by a male-centric system. But this B picture wrests back some control over the prevailing stereotypes and narratives—you were allowed to do that in 1933, Joseph Breen be damned. Letty decides to make her own way instead of marrying the first man that comes along, wrestling with the potential consequences and harm she causes all the while. Carol finagles men for monetary gain, which for her is regrettable but preferable to falling for another man destined to jilt her. Jane, sweet Jane, has the hardest time of any, but is a girl’s girl through it all and to the last. Beauty for Sale’s leading trio forge their own paths in a system designed to keep them from doing so successfully—sometimes with wisdom and other times by using and abusing in kind. In this way, the aforementioned tagline doesn’t even make much sense; this film isn’t really about marriage. That’s why I prefer the alt tagline: “The Drama of Three Footloose Daughters of a Modern Skin Game.” This one recognizes that the game is set up for these women to fail, and that they’re free to do as they please anyway. 1939 would be appalled.
One can little argue that the salon setting in the movie, with its obsessive focus on gossip, cattiness, and florid sex, is socially progressive or flattering to the perception of a modern woman. But for all its trappings and stereotypes, it does provide us with one of the few classic film spaces reserved almost exclusively for women—and what a wonderful avenue it opened to allow the glamor days’ finest talent to share the screen together and sneak in a few feminist sensibilities here and there.
Thanks for attending our first double feature! Make it a triple feature with 1939’s Beauty for the Asking, starring Lucille Ball as a boss babe face cream inventor and entrepreneur whose investor is the wife of her gold-digging ex fiancé. Then read some fan magazine articles featuring Florine McKinney here. You can learn more about the salon treatments given at Sydney's in The Women here. After all that taxing research, treat yourself to a day at Madame Brainey’s Cinema Salon on Letterboxd, where the only gossip allowed is about those INTereSTin’ movie stars from before our grandparents were born.
