"The Cat's-Paw" (1934) (another 10/10 DVD from New Line) is a variation on Clarence Budington Kelland's own "Mr. Deeds Goes To Town" (1936). Instead of Gary Cooper, the naïve but Right-thinking (notice the capital "R") boob in this instance is played – and very effectively too – by Harold Lloyd.
Actually, Lloyd is enacting a far more serious role than usual, although it's not until the climax that he finally outwits his opponents more by cunning than good luck.
Even if you don't agree with the message, this is a mighty entertaining movie with elaborate production values, including really huge sets (the whole film was lensed at Fox studios) and thousands of extras.
Even the official credited players listed in the studio's press book number 108, and include such luminaries as Herman Bing, Sidney Bracy, Noah Young, Tom Dugan and Noel Madison who simply flash by in the background.
In the foreground, Lloyd gives a wholeheartedly ingratiating performance and is brilliantly supported by George Barbier (absolutely terrific in one of his meatiest roles), Grace Bradley (as the femme fatale), Una Merkel (as the unlikely heroine), and Alan Dinehart (as the corrupt boss of a corrupt machine).
But a movie of course does not succeed because its elaborate production values engage the audience's attention. Writing and direction are still paramount and both are most deftly supplied by Sam Taylor.
Actually, Lloyd is enacting a far more serious role than usual, although it's not until the climax that he finally outwits his opponents more by cunning than good luck.
Even if you don't agree with the message, this is a mighty entertaining movie with elaborate production values, including really huge sets (the whole film was lensed at Fox studios) and thousands of extras.
Even the official credited players listed in the studio's press book number 108, and include such luminaries as Herman Bing, Sidney Bracy, Noah Young, Tom Dugan and Noel Madison who simply flash by in the background.
In the foreground, Lloyd gives a wholeheartedly ingratiating performance and is brilliantly supported by George Barbier (absolutely terrific in one of his meatiest roles), Grace Bradley (as the femme fatale), Una Merkel (as the unlikely heroine), and Alan Dinehart (as the corrupt boss of a corrupt machine).
But a movie of course does not succeed because its elaborate production values engage the audience's attention. Writing and direction are still paramount and both are most deftly supplied by Sam Taylor.