Woman Trap

Hal Skelly is a tough, honest police captain. Chester Morris is a bootlegger. They are brothers. Evelyn Brent is the sister of Skelly's ex-partner, and she wants revenge against him, so she helps Morris escape from the cops.

Two brothers on opposite sides of the law was not a new theme for gangster films even then, but here we are in the early days of sound pictures, and director William Wellman pulls out all stops in making this one move: a wall of roaring background noises, moving cameras, actors who step on each others' lines makes this a fast and thrilling picture.

That's not to say there are problems with its age. The sound equipment was not advanced, and some of the lines are faint...although to me that made things move even more faster, demanding my attention. The three leads are terrific. If you have a taste for old movies, this is a fine one to satisfy your appetite.

At least one masterful director was not fazed by the introduction of sound. His name: William A. Wellman. Woman Trap (1929) is a wonderful example of his seemingly facile yet remarkably skillful and highly inventive style. The plot would seem fairly routine but Wellman has unobtrusively packed so many telling touches into the story's fabric that it comes across with surprising force. Of course, some of the action is obvious – the dynamited building exploding into the camera; the shoot-out in the freight elevator when the participants are hidden because the lift gets stuck halfway; the foreground consistently exploding with street and hospital argon as the main players struggle to come to terms with some tragedy – but much of the movie's relentlessly downbeat mood and slum-living vitality is also enhanced through the fine performances Wellman has induced from his lead players. Hal Skelly, cast against type as the never-you-mind live-and-let-live, who gaily hop-scotches in the gutter, but then transforms into a zero-tolerance monster, imparts his Dan Malone to the audience in a seemingly effortless interpretation. He rightly dominates the movie, although Evelyn Brent as the good-girl floozy who finally manages to out-smart herself, would have run Skelly close had her part been larger. Chester Morris is effective as the heavy, Effie Ellsler is okay as the mum of all sorrows. Leslie Fenton (later a director) makes a few waves as Brent's brother; and if you look hard, you may spot Joseph L. Mankiewicz moonlighting as a reporter. Wellman's assistant director, as usual, was Charles Barton.

As the Paramountain fades into the credits, a disturbing music theme underscores the credits. It's a good riff, but clearly at odds with the mood of the opening.

Hal Skelly is Sergeant Dan Malone (Irish cop, now that's original) walking the beat in some downtown. A horsedrawn milk wagon goes by. At a police call box, Malone relates his handling of disturbances to headquarters. Caught the kid that stole the milk, made him return it, then stole a quart for him 'cause "he was thirsty". His sidekick, Watts, played by William B. Davidson, expounds his theory that juvenile crime is exacerbated by unsupervised hangouts. Malone is stepping on cracks in the sidewalk like some hopscotch participant. Director Wellman keeps the action flowing, dollying his camera around a corner and down the street. [This was "Wild Bill's" 3rd talkie for 1929] A fight is quelled by Malone bonking the two guys heads together then kicking them in the pants. He is carefree.

A fellow officer tells Malone he just caught his brother, and Eddie Evans, drunk and up to no good. Now, an astute viewer might have glanced at the credits and noticed the source material is Edwin Burke's "Brothers", and thereby be forewarned. Dan goes upstairs and engages in playful banter with his mother. Watts goes to Eddie Evans' parents. A firey Evelyn Brent, playing (Kitty), Eddie's defensive sister, springs at Watts. She starts hot and is just warming up. Each family blames the other, and a life changing moment will send Malone into a get tough on crime mode. With each turn of the script's page, the drama grows grimmer.

As Malone's get tough policy gains him promotions, the liability of his brother weighs heavier upon him. A woman's wrath will spring the 'Woman Trap'. When the last reel unspools, the wide open mood of the first has steadily closed in to the point of claustrophobia. Malone has morphed into someone else.

I found the conclusion personally unsatisfying. The music under the opening credits fits here. But if you ever wondered about Hal Skelly's acting chops, they're all here.