Recently, Anthony and I had the great honor of being asked by the Film Club of the Art Deco Society of Washington D.C. (ADSW) and the American Film Institute (AFI) to introduce the 1930 movie, Madam Satan, the final film in their series Art Deco on Screen: A Centennial Celebration.

To say we were somewhat nervous to take on this assignment is an understatement. With a list of points to hit, and a 12-minute time limit, we set to work.

With a lot of writing, rewriting, editing, moving sections, more editing and reworking dialog almost to the very end, we finally came up with a streamlined, informative, at times humorous (we hoped) and mercifully short presentation.

And so, for those who were unable to attend our presentation, sit back and enjoy.

Madan Satan is a pre-code, 1930 MGM movie.  This was Cecil B. DeMille’s 60^th film and the second of a three-picture contract with MGM which included Dynamite in 1929 and his second re-make of The Squaw Man in 1931.

Written by Jeanie MacPherson, Gladys Unger and Elsie Janis, Madam Satan is DeMille’s only musical.

DeMille wanted Cole Porter to write the music but, “he was busy”. His next choices – Oscar Hammerstein, Rudolf Friml, and Sigmund Romberg – all wanted a cut of the profits.

So, Clifford Grey, Herbert Stothart, Elsie Janis and Jack King got the job.

Madam Satan isn’t quite sure what it wants to be, as it is a marriage of a bedroom farce and a disaster film.

Think the “Real Housewives” of (enter a city here).

Going into pre-production and casting in the fall of 1929, DeMille really wanted Gloria Swanson in the leading role but was unable to lure her away from United Artists and Joseph Kennedy – remember that name. Kennedy was Swanson’s paramour at the time.

DeMille previously worked with Kay Johnson in Dynamite and after a long search he settled on her for the lead.

However, in a press release, DeMille was quoted as saying she was his first choice and he couldn’t imagine anyone else in the role. Still, actually not his first choice, he was pleased with her performance and contribution to the film.

CECIL B. DeMILLE

DeMille had been a fixture in Hollywood since his first silent film, The Squaw Man produced by The Jesse L Lasky Feature Play Company in 1914.

By 1916 Lasky’s company merged with Adolph Zukor’s Famous Players in Famous Plays under the Paramount Pictures umbrella. In 1918, DeMille remade The Squaw Man for the first time, also a silent film.

By the end of the teens, DeMille had become Paramount’s most successful director, producing their most expensive film to date, The Ten Commandments in 1923. It cost approximately $1.4 million dollars.

Concerned with the cost, Paramount reigned in DeMille’s budgets leading to a break with the studio.

Between 1925 and 1928, DeMille became an independent producer at his own studio, Producer Distributer Corporation, releasing through Pathé.

 This is where he made his most successful silent film, the 1927, The King of Kings.

The following year, Joseph Kennedy – the same person who would not lend him Gloria Swanson – joined the board as president of Pathé.

DeMille did not want to work for him. Offered a three-picture deal with MGM, he accepted.

THE CAST

Kay Johnson, an accomplished stage actress before her film career, was spotted by DeMille in a production of The Silver Cord in California.

Impressed with her performance, he offered her a contract with MGM with her first film being DeMille’s Dynamite.  Including Madam Satan, Johnson appeared in six movies in 1930; and worked steadily through 1944.

Her final stage appearance was in the 1945 production of State of the Union. And her final film appearance was in the 1954 British film Jivaro.

In 1928, Johnson married actor, director, producer John Cromwell (m. 1928; div. 1946) and had two children; Jonathan Thomas Cromwell adopted in 1938 and actor, James Cromwell, in 1940.

Johnson never achieved the heights of fame she could have had, choosing to provide a stable home for her children over a life of fame in front of the cameras.

Before films, Reginal Denny appeared on Broadway and used his trained singing voice on the legitimate stage in operetta.

Denny worked with John Barrymore in a Broadway production of Richard III in 1920.  They became good friends, starring in several movies together including the 1922 Sherlock Holmes which feature another star in tonight’s feature – Roland Young.

Though he appeared in a few movies in 1911 and 1912, his career officially started in 1915.  In silent films, he was cast as a typical young suburban American. But unbeknownst to most film audiences, he was British. With the advent of talkies, this became obvious and his career momentarily stalled going from leading man to featured actor.

Denny was able to adapt, and his screen personae became – usually – upper class British, or urbane gentleman. Examples can be seen in such films as the drama, Rebecca and the comedy, Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House.

English born; Roland Young began his career in 1908 on the London Stage. By 1912 he was appearing on Broadway and juggling a successful stage career between London and America.

His American film debut was in the 1922 Sherlock Holmes along side tonight’s leading man, Reginald Denny.

Usually cast as the comedic second banana, he made just three silent films, and five talking pictures before being cast in Madan Satan. He would work again with Cecil B DeMille in the 1931, all talking, and second remake of The Squaw Man.

Young is probably best remembered as the milquetoast businessman, Topper in the movie of the same name, or displaying his dry wit as the licentious Uncle Willy in The Philadelphia Story.

Stage mother Katie Rutstein groomed Lillian, and her sister Ann, for stardom. Sometimes billed as “Lillian Roth and Co.” or “The Roth Kids”, they worked the Vaudeville circuits, did some extra work in films and in 1917, six-year-old Lillian made her Broadway debut.

She eventually signed a contract with Paramount Pictures. At age 19, Roth was loaned out to MGM for tonight’s feature.

She left Paramount in 1933, possibly due to her growing dependency on alcohol.

Her father had been an alcoholic so the propensity to drink was probably there. Then, the sudden death of David Lyons, her first fiancé, in the 1930s from tuberculosis appears to be the initial trigger. Drinking, she found, made her feel better. At least momentarily.

Roth actively sought to take back control of her life through the years but repeatedly returned to alcohol as a way to cope.

Married and divorced 6 times, husband number 6, T. Burt McGuire, Jr., a recovering alcoholic himself, helped her to overcome her addiction and rebuild her career.

She is best remembered today for her 1954 autobiography, I’ll Cry Tomorrow, co-written with Gerold Frank, and the 1955 movie of the same name. With the  release of her book and the biopic, and as an outspoken advocate for destigmatizing this terrible disease, there was renewed public interest in her.

Roth worked continuously in theatre, concerts, night clubs and tours until a year before her death in 1980.

Her gravestone incudes the inscription, “As bad as it was, it was good.”

COLOR SYSTEM

It was announced in the winter of 1930 that the picture would be largely shot in Technicolor.

A few weeks later, MGM planned to use a rival color system and it would be almost entirely shot in Multicolor. But by the time filming began, the use of color had been reduced to one or two sequences.

While we believe some scenes were shot in Multicolor, there is no evidence this footage was used in domestic release. And no contemporary review – that we could find – mentions any sequence in color.

With one exception:

In 1933, three years after its release, an Australian review for a showing at the New Princess Theatre, Queensland, mentions the many beautiful scenes in color.

It was not unusual for foreign release prints to use alternate takes of scenes – in this case, possibly one with the color sequences.

ACT I

The first 50 minutes of Madam Satan sets up the relationships between the main characters.

Angela Brooks awakens to find her husband Bob has not returned from a night out with his friend, Jimmy Wade and showgirl Trixie, Bob’s side piece.

Confronting him, she realizes he’s lost interest in their marriage, and specifically her. And they agree to move on without each other.

But Angela has other plans.

What happens next is a bedroom farce of who is who, and who is where.

During the mix ups and mayhem Trixie taunts Angela about giving Bob what he wants – which isn’t a decent woman.

Angela, in a bit of foreshadowing, declares “If he wants hot, she’ll give him a volcano.”

VISUALS

Sets designed by Cederic Gibbons and Mitchel Leisen use subtle touches of deco elements in the domestic scenes, Act II, situated on a Zeppelin – because everybody’s friend has access to one – is decedent, surreal, and over-the-top.

Why? Because DeMille could.

It opens with a miniature set of a Zeppelin moored at an imaginary Jersey City airfield against the New York skyline.

Guests arrive at the mooring mast singing, “We’re Going Somewhere”. As you can see in the slide, the lyrics are – gripping?

Entering the Zeppelin via a catwalk, they begin singing the “Cat Walk” escorted by stewardesses dressed like – well, cats.

And thankfully, not CGI ones!

The symmetry of the multi-level set consisting of staircases, arches and guide-wires appear to loosely mimic the top of the Chrysler Building.

In the Chart Room, cushions on the modern furnishings are upholstered in Art Deco fabric. And note how the sweep of the girders create a deco backdrop for the band stand.

CHOREOGRAPHY

Guests are treated to a bizarre modernistic “Ballet Electric” or “Ballet Méchanique” – depending on the source – danced by Theodore Kosloff, a renowned dancer, and actor.

In a nod to the importance of electricity in modern times, he magically appears with lightning bolts on, and around him.

DeMille hired Kosloff to choreograph Madam Satan but MGM insisted on Leroy Prinz – primarily to cut costs.

Its generally accepted that Kosloff choreographed the ballet as it is in his style. And, it is in no small part, influenced by the robot scene in Metropolis with supporting dancers dressed as parts of living machinery.

The use of over-head photography was not new to films. However, Busby Berkeley redefined the technique. His use of tightly synchronized routines to form patterns was unparalleled, blowing other productions out of the water.

Berkeley’s first film, Whoopee!, released at the same time as Madam Satan was a hit.

If you get a chance to see the film, look for a woman carried in wearing a fantastical sweeping headdress reminiscent of Rene Lalique’s Victoire or Maurice Guiraud’s La Cometé.

And adding to the over-the-top entertainment, libations are brought to guest via zeppelin shaped bar cars driven by women in futuristic garb.

At least DeMille seems amused.

COSTUMES

Costume designer Adrian was tasked with bringing DeMille’s jazzy, hedonistic vision to life.

But many had to be modified to satisfy Hollywood censor. Jason Joy.

Joy worked closely with DeMille adding body stockings, more sequins, and fishnets to ensure the women were not revealing too much.

In the original costume sketch, Madam Satan’s gown has deeper cut panels with barely-there coverage.

No doubt, adjusted to be more modest.

Costumes for the male crew appear to be influenced by the popular and futuristic Buck Rogers from Amazing Stories Magazine.

Bob’s costume is tame compared to the exciting life he craves. It contrasts with Trixie’s barely-there ensemble – surely with a few added sequins.

And the fantasy doesn’t end there:

Time flies when you’re having fun. Or is this the march of time?

Adrian deftly reinforces the contrast between the female leads with Madam Satan’s gown regally seductive as opposed to Trixie’s vulgarly overt exuberance of sequins and plumage.

He does the same with the two sides of Angela / Madam Satan.

THE DISASTER

The frivolity ends when a lightning bolt “ex machina”, sets the zeppelin loose…

and the guests into a panic; forcing them to abandon ship.

There is little doubt that the tragedy of the Shenandoah influenced the fictitious disaster in tonight’s film.

Audiences would remember the actual destruction of the Navy airship, just a few years earlier. On September 3, 1925, turbulence tore the airship apart and 14 of the 43 crew members lost their lives.

SPECIAL EFFECTS

In a world before CGI, studios needed a way to create special effects. Madam Satan used the Williams Process.

Patented in 1918, Frank D. Williams’ system allowed for integration of actors into moving backgrounds, It was first used in the 1922 Universal Film, Wild Honey.

DeMille also used it in 1922 for “Manslaughter”, and F.W. Murnau for Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans in 1927. The last film to use the Williams Process, or at least a version of it, was in 1964 for Mary Poppins.

The next part gets technical, but it’s interesting.

First, an actor in filmed in front of a black background. Two negatives are made, one is on regular film stock, and the other on high contrast stock.

The latter is processed several times until it creates a solid black hold-out matte – a transparent background and a black foreground.

This is inverted to create a cover matte – with a black background and a transparent foreground.

The hold-out matte is overlayed onto raw film stock and the desired background photographed.

The hold-out matte was removed, the film rewound, and the cover matte is overlayed onto the newly filmed background preventing further exposure.

And the original negative is printed into the previously masked (unexposed) part of the film creating the final negative.

While effective, it presented some technical issues, including light bleed which caused a halo effect around the actors.

PRODUCTION AND RELEASE

Production started on March 3^rd, 1930 with a planned 70-day shoot, wrapping 11 days ahead of schedule on May 2^nd.

It was MGM’s most expensive film of the year costing $980,000.

Suspecting audience’s waning interest in musicals, MGM opened it in Kansas City, September 12^th, 1930; followed soon by other smaller markets before moving it to New York in early October.

In the end, it lost $390,000.

Released a year too late, public tastes had changed and musicals were on the decline. And the typical operetta convention of a mask and a fake French accent worked better on the stage where there is distance between the audience and the actors – less so in movies with close-ups.

REVIEWS

NYT Film Critic Mordaunt Hall in his, Oct. 6, 1930 review wrote:

Cecil B. De Mille’s latest audible film, ‘Madam Satan,’ is a strange conglomeration of unreal incidents that are set forth with no little technical skill.’ 

Robert Ebert stated:

I cannot believe that I have gone this long in life without basking in its total and heedless insanity. The film’s first half is a sparky romantic farce…slick, stylish and entertaining as can be but it is in the second half that it makes its grand leap towards genius/insanity… [It] could not possibly get any stranger … [Then] DeMille—comes in to transform it into a full-on disaster film…You have almost certainly never seen a film even remotely like “Madam Satan” before in your life.

In his book about early musicals, A Song in the Dark, Richard Barrios, had this to say:

The Depression had begun to alter the national mood irretrievably while Madam Satan was still in production; by the time it reached theatres it was obsolete…How fitting that Madam Satan, the utmost example of the trend, winds up with a well staged blimp wreck; in one clean sweep this scene now seems to embody the end of the Jazz Age, the collapse of American prosperity, the death throes of early musicals, and, most literally, the flop of this last baroque gasp of twenties frivolity.

Cecil B. DeMille’s use of metaphor was usually painfully literal and obvious. This one, ironically, he never intended.

IN CLOSING

It’s been 95 years since its release. Is it a great movie? No. Is it worth the watch? We think so. And if you do see it, just go along for the ride and judge for yourself.

Thank you!

 

Chris and Anthony (The Freakin’ ‘tiquen Guys)