In "Female," Michael Curtiz's schizophrenic 1933 nothing, the lovely Ruth Chatterton plays the president of an auto manufacturing company who has put business and power above womanly advantages (which in this film means she'd rather be independent than be barefoot and pregnant). She has her way with just about every even moderately good looking man in the joint, inviting them over to her house for "dinner" and to discuss business, only to halt the shop talk mid-way through and throw a pillow suggestively on the floor while the camera discreetly fades to black. All of this changes when she meets George Brent, an engineer hired by the company who is completely immune to Chatterton's dubious charms. Once she realizes that Brent isn't buying what she's selling, she revamps her product, opting instead to act like a typical woman, which means asking Brent's help in starting fires and speaking in a high-pitched sing-song. By the end, she's decided to chuck the business and hand it over to Brent so that she can be his dutiful wife.
This film is absolutely absurd, even by 1933 standards, and you'll have to sit through about 40 feminist film seminars to wash the taste of it out of your mouth, but it's rather fun to see just how backwards it can possibly be. Chatterton is a likable actress and she's got a lot of spunk. The car manufacturing setting means that the screenwriter can create all sorts of double entrendes using car part lingo, and the whole thing's only about an hour long anyway, so it breezes right by.
Grade: B
This film is absolutely absurd, even by 1933 standards, and you'll have to sit through about 40 feminist film seminars to wash the taste of it out of your mouth, but it's rather fun to see just how backwards it can possibly be. Chatterton is a likable actress and she's got a lot of spunk. The car manufacturing setting means that the screenwriter can create all sorts of double entrendes using car part lingo, and the whole thing's only about an hour long anyway, so it breezes right by.
Grade: B