The Barretts of Wimpole Street (1934)

I seem to be mired in 1934 at the moment, which is not at all a bad place to be.  This film might be nothing to remember were it not for the magnificent Charles Laughton.  He plays the tyrannical father of Elizabeth Barrett (later Browning) whom he has treated as an invalid in the fond hope of keeping her with him at home forever (there may have been a Hays Code back then, but the incestuous glint in his eye is unmistakeable and she is well aware of it). In fact he wants none of his children to wed or to find happiness; he is the ultimate control freak.  Elizabeth is played by Norma Shearer in one of her best performances; being Mrs. Irving Thalberg always gave her a leg up to the best roles, but she is excellent here with richly-textured playing.  Her lover, the poet Robert Browning, is played by Fredric March who could be a bit wooden at times, but his romanticism is just about winning in this film.  But it is the monster Laughton who captures the viewer -- what he can achieve with just a slight shift of expression is remarkable, and when he discovers that Elizabeth has eloped, his fury is chilling.  In the 1957 remake the Laughton role was taken by John Gielgud which is a more than acceptable choice, but the balance of the players were just not up to the task.  If you want to see this old warhorse of a movie, the 1934 version is the one to seek; I can forgive all the staginess and histrionics for just a few seconds of Laughton's barnstorming.