Suzy Says

Rain on the honeysuckle

As you can see, I gave myself a new look for my birthday!

According to my birth certificate, I was born at 10:38 am, which I think is a very civilized hour. So many babies insist on interrupting their mother’s beauty sleep to be born in the middle of the night. Or worse yet, at cocktail hour. So inconsiderate!

Since I was born in New York State, that means I’m turning a year older right about now….

And what an uninspiring day it is. Dark, rainy, depressing. I don’t think it has rained on my birthday since I moved to California all those years ago. The weather seems to have forgotten that it is supposed to get sunny in April and stay that way until November. They say old habits are hard to break, but it seems to have no trouble whatsoever positively shattering them.

It’s not looking good for fun on my birthday. The weather precludes any expotitions anywhere; the dogs won’t want to put as much as a paw outside; the birthday BBQ is cancelled; and I will have to make my own birthday dinner, since Megan is laid up for the duration.

I spent my birthday eve watching a couple of pre-Code movies about wicked women and drinking Cosmoplitans. Not only did they each have my favorite credit, “Gowns By”, they also lasted just over an hour each, which is perfect for me. Keep it zippy, is what I say.

First up was “Midnight Mary”, starring Loretta Young as the unlucky title character whose story is told in flashbacks as she is on trial for murder. Starting out with a poverty-stricken childhood leading to a mistaken conviction for shoplifting and an inadvertent turn as lookout for a couple of gangsters, Mary is rescued from a life of crime and debauchery by a wealthy playboy (former Barbara Payton plaything Franchot Tone), but her past catches up with her…

Filmed in 1933, the movie includes a scene of Mary losing her virginity in the back of car; whispering promises of sexual favors to come into her lover’s ear (while he licks her fingers); a baby born cheerfully out of wedlock to no-one’s chagrin; and women being slapped around by their lovers.

Next up was “Three on a Match”, with Joan Blondell being her wise-cracking self, Bette Davis in frightening platinum blonde hair, and Ann Dvorak as the girl who has everything. To lose. The three girls go to public school together, where Blondell’s character is a wayward hoyden, Dvorak’s a spoiled princess, and Davis hard-working and ambitious.

The girls grow up and run into each other by accident, sharing the title match and laughing about the superstition. Blondell is a stage star, Davis a stenographer, and Dvorak is married to a wealthy lawyer and has a young son, but is discontented with her life. She decides to take the boy and go for a refreshing trip to Europe with her adoring husband’s reluctant approval, but on the boat meets a handsome gambler and runs away with him, taking the boy with her.

Her sexy out of wedlock idyll soon degenerates into filthy rooms scattered with empty bottles and cigarette butts, as she lies on the unmade bed in a stupor, ignoring her hungry child. The gambler owes money to gangsters (one of whom is no less than Mr. Humphrey Bogart, in his earliest tough guy role), they are both addicted to cocaine, and the boy is dirty and neglected. The gangsters discuss killing the child in front of his drug-addled mother, who makes a spectacular sacrifice to save him.

All this and more in just over an hour. Look for Jack Webb’s (“Dragnet”) earliest film appearance as a boy in the schoolyard at the beginning of the film.