Rather a clunky, coarse film, but well worth watching to see Fredric March at work, a great subtle actor.
The first (and only non-musical) version of the durable backlot classic. The story won the Oscar, even though it's a rip off of the 1932 film What Price Hollywood? And they also share a sharp satirical edge aimed at Hollywood life. Esther Blodgett (Janet Gaynor) is the small town girl who makes it on the big screen as the American sweetheart, Vicki Lester.
She is given a break, then a wedding ring, by an alcoholic has-been (Fredric March) who must then watch as her career eclipses his own. Gaynor, a legend of silent cinema, was only 31 when she made this but feels a little old fashioned for a star of the late thirties. The Oscar she accepts in the film, is the one she won in real life a decade earlier.
Ironically, she is overshadowed by her co-star. March pulls of the trick of being the egotistical drunkard who crashes and burns, and also the husband that Vicki is plausibly in love with. No other Norman Maine quite manages that. His charm penetrates through the self-destructiveness. We feel the poignancy of damaged people.
There's an attractive production in Technicolor with a fine, sentimental score from Max Steiner. And there is the interest of a glimpse behind the scenes in golden age Hollywood. Like the skit when Gaynor does rapid fire impressions of Hepburn, Garbo and Mae West at a party. It's my favourite version.