Just perfect...

If the ambition is to provide two hours of instantly forgettable, popcorn-munching escapism, it succeeds.

Strong acting helps the film overcome an uncertain premise and create characters that hold our attention absolutely.

A terrific literary drama and character piece that shows how the process of creating art can be seen differently by those doing it and those looking at it from the outside.

A group of wealthy socialites take a cruise on their yacht but a storm cripples the ship, making it possible for the disgruntled crew to mutiny. Flat-nosed Louis Wolheim does his best in the role of an insane crewman with dreams of power but his exaggerated performance makes this dull film laughable and only mildly entertaining. The acting is stagy, the story melodramatic, and the early sound technology makes for long stretches of awkward silence. Unless you're interested in someone from the cast, or want to see how bad some early talkies could be, skip this one.

Some of the reviewers found it hard to place themselves in a 1930 audience. Remember, studios thought that as much music as possible should be added even to the most stolid plots. The question is, did the film work? I say yes. Conrad Nagle was excellent in playing the worldly, self-absorbed elite. Kay Johnson shows she was one of the best early talking picture leads. But the film belongs to Louis Walheim who has the role of his career. His descent into madness is amazing. The final scenes between him and Johnson squeeze every emotion dry. By today's standards it's over the top but by 1930s standards it has few equals. While the film is not altogether successful, the acting, cinematography and even the early sound demand appreciation.

Written by Hollywood Ten screenwriter John Howard Lawson, this crackles with class resentment. The blasé privileges of wealth: i.e. Going to the office at eleven and working furiously until noon, are thrown into a maelstrom of class war. It starts with the usual, per the period, bunch of night club swells dressed to the nines, blithely decide to take a yachting journey to San Francisco. While they talk about the crew in disparaging terms, the steward seethes at being ordered about, being blamed for their faults, etc. While the rich lounge on deck drinking highball, the crew is restricted to the heat of below decks. A storm, which the rich welcome for a bit of excitement, seriously damages the ship, giving the steward the opportunity to mutiny and take over the ship reversing the situation. Its clear that Lawson was writing a parable of Class War. Its always been my hypothesis that early talkies became unpopular not because of their crudeness because of the early recording equipment, but because the subject matter, mostly 1920s theater, was made instantly passé by the depression. Men in white tie at the country club dance, fluttering flappers trying to decide between one vapid stockbroker or another. These became chokingly irrelevant in the depression. Here this begins in the same way but gets down to the ugly truth quite quickly. That this wasn't popular at the time is obvious. The O'Neill type ending doesn't help. Lawson was to take a lesson from this and spread Communist propaganda in more subtle ways later in his career. He was, however, just as doctrinaire, becoming the head of the Communist Party cell in Hollywood.

That's the sound that this ancient maritime drama makes as it meanders through it's less than exciting hour long running time. Set on a transoceanic trip from Shanghai to San Francisco, the film stars Kay Johnson, Conrad Nagel, and Zeffie Tilbury as a group of incredibly annoying passengers who end up under the thumb of evil steward Louis Wolheim, who seems to be channeling the spirit of a very dumb and quite drunk Wallace Beery. There's some scratchy stock footage of Chinese villagers to help set the scene and a bizarre (and pointless) rendition of Singin' In the Rain performed by a band of Asian men in coolie hats. This badly recorded, crude early talkie will put most viewers to sleep.