Stilted, very much a filmed stage play, "Interference" being Paramount's first all talkie was it's most important film of 1928. It was designed to be a "special event" with impresario Daniel Frohman appearing in a talking prologue (not in the print I saw) and promising that "thanks to the talkies, no more will our best plays be confined to a few big cities". It did show what would happen to the cinema in the next couple of years - the fluidity of the silent cinema camera was bought to a static, grinding halt as movies were filmed in one or two rooms, with characters being grouped around tables and vases of flowers where microphones could be hidden.
What really appealed to contemporary critics was the cultured way the actors spoke and that it was the first talkie done in "the drawing room manner" - boy, how sick everyone would soon be of "teacup dramas". It did not have a plot that involved bootleggers, gangsters or chorus girls. Actors spoke in a refined way, not in the "dese, dems and dose" vernacular. The praiseworthy reviews helped to shackle films to rigidity, although there were a couple of scenes that did advance cinema technique. When Evelyn Brent weeps, viewers only hear her but see William Powell's face trying to figure out what to do next, the same thing happens when she writes a letter - you know she is writing but only Powell's calculating face is shown. Apparently critics of the day thought it was such a wonderful revelation as it would save money on sets!!!
Phillip Voaxe (William Powell) arrives back in town in time to attend his own memorial service. He was just one of many soldiers listed as missing in action during World War One. At the service, Della (Evelyn Brent), a discarded and vengeful mistress, recognizes him but when he refuses to resume their relationship she begins her interference. When they had originally been involved, Phillip had been married to Faith (Doris Kenyon), who has since married heart specialist John Marley (Clive Brook). Della wastes no time in visiting Faith, to tell her the news and also to inform her that she has incriminating letters - so the blackmailing begins.
Phillip accidentally meets Faith when he visits Dr. Marley as a patient. William Powell, Evelyn Brent, Doris Kenyon and Clive Brook - possibly the most distinguished cast in a very early talkie, but for me, Evelyn Brent, a veteran of silent films far outshone the rest. She was outstanding and with a clear voice proved she was a natural for talking pictures. She should have had a very long career but by the early 30s she was beginning to be a fixture on poverty row. Clive Brook, on the other hand, was so stiff, his occupation could well have been a butler - even giving a little butler like bow when leaving Della - "Mi Lady"!!!
Just when you think the movie is ending - Della is killed and even though you know who the guilty party is - A is instantly suspected because of the little bottle of poison that she has taken from her husband's surgery. B is in a rare flurry of activity and obliterates all traces of the poison - then C confesses, it is made clear he is dying of a heart ailment and will not stand trial, he barely makes it to the door before he collapses in the policeman's arms.
Roy Pomeroy was the director and it is a crazy story that could only have happened in the riotous, panic stricken year when talkies came to stay. A year or so previously he had been a special effects whiz who had devised the eye catching scenes in "The Ten Commandments". He was then sent on a tour of Western Electric to learn all about sound (only because no-one else wanted to!!) He came back armed with know how and power. He asked for a rise from $250 a week to $2,500 and got it because nobody else at the studio knew how to shoot sound. But when he demanded $3,500 a week for his next movie he was out because by now others knew the secret!!
Recommended.
What really appealed to contemporary critics was the cultured way the actors spoke and that it was the first talkie done in "the drawing room manner" - boy, how sick everyone would soon be of "teacup dramas". It did not have a plot that involved bootleggers, gangsters or chorus girls. Actors spoke in a refined way, not in the "dese, dems and dose" vernacular. The praiseworthy reviews helped to shackle films to rigidity, although there were a couple of scenes that did advance cinema technique. When Evelyn Brent weeps, viewers only hear her but see William Powell's face trying to figure out what to do next, the same thing happens when she writes a letter - you know she is writing but only Powell's calculating face is shown. Apparently critics of the day thought it was such a wonderful revelation as it would save money on sets!!!
Phillip Voaxe (William Powell) arrives back in town in time to attend his own memorial service. He was just one of many soldiers listed as missing in action during World War One. At the service, Della (Evelyn Brent), a discarded and vengeful mistress, recognizes him but when he refuses to resume their relationship she begins her interference. When they had originally been involved, Phillip had been married to Faith (Doris Kenyon), who has since married heart specialist John Marley (Clive Brook). Della wastes no time in visiting Faith, to tell her the news and also to inform her that she has incriminating letters - so the blackmailing begins.
Phillip accidentally meets Faith when he visits Dr. Marley as a patient. William Powell, Evelyn Brent, Doris Kenyon and Clive Brook - possibly the most distinguished cast in a very early talkie, but for me, Evelyn Brent, a veteran of silent films far outshone the rest. She was outstanding and with a clear voice proved she was a natural for talking pictures. She should have had a very long career but by the early 30s she was beginning to be a fixture on poverty row. Clive Brook, on the other hand, was so stiff, his occupation could well have been a butler - even giving a little butler like bow when leaving Della - "Mi Lady"!!!
Just when you think the movie is ending - Della is killed and even though you know who the guilty party is - A is instantly suspected because of the little bottle of poison that she has taken from her husband's surgery. B is in a rare flurry of activity and obliterates all traces of the poison - then C confesses, it is made clear he is dying of a heart ailment and will not stand trial, he barely makes it to the door before he collapses in the policeman's arms.
Roy Pomeroy was the director and it is a crazy story that could only have happened in the riotous, panic stricken year when talkies came to stay. A year or so previously he had been a special effects whiz who had devised the eye catching scenes in "The Ten Commandments". He was then sent on a tour of Western Electric to learn all about sound (only because no-one else wanted to!!) He came back armed with know how and power. He asked for a rise from $250 a week to $2,500 and got it because nobody else at the studio knew how to shoot sound. But when he demanded $3,500 a week for his next movie he was out because by now others knew the secret!!
Recommended.