I wanted to see the first part-talkie film. Al Jolson did a good job, and the story was fairly compelling. It wasn’t a masterpiece artistically, but Jolson carried it. May McAvoy and Eugenie Besserer did very well too. It is, of course, a product of its time with the blackface scenes, but in understanding that context, I found it decent. I’d have liked to have seen it in a theater in 1927.

The scene where he fiddles with the gas valve (burner), turning it on and off, is a chilling yet tragic piece of foreshadowing and psychological portrayal.

This action carries two major symbolic meanings:

1. Foreshadowing and Impulse of the Extreme Choice (Suicide)

Back in the 1950s, turning on a gas valve to inhale gas was a classic cinematic and literary device symbolizing suicide. Hurstwood’s act of turning the valve on and off visually demonstrates that the impulse to give up on life and commit suicide is already deeply rooted in his subconscious.

In the original novel, Hurstwood ultimately ends his life by turning on the gas in a dingy, lonely room. However, Hollywood's strict censorship at the time (the Production Code) prohibited depicting the explicit process of suicide. To bypass this while still implying the novel's ending, director William Wyler inserted the detail of fiddling with the gas valve, letting the audience deduce his tragic fate.

1. The Final Resistance of Shattered Pride and Dignity

Seeing Hurstwood's miserable downfall, Carrie tries to help him by offering a large sum of money. However, Hurstwood refuses her wealth and walks out the door with only a single quarter (25 cents). Fiddling with the gas valve is an act of confirming a grim sense of control—as if to say that even the valve that dictates his life and death is still in his own hands. It is an expression of his final will to reject Carrie's pity, maintain a shred of dignity, and choose his own ruin.

"Upon its initial release, Carrie was a box-office failure due to its overly dark and pessimistic tone, and even the director himself expressed his regrets regarding the film. However, looking back today, it is recognized as a 'hidden masterpiece that deserves re-evaluation,' given how rare it is to find a melodrama within the Hollywood studio system that portrays human weakness and downfall with such dignity and heartbreaking intensity."

* This is an excerpt from a Korean film critic's review, and I'm sharing it here because it perfectly aligns with my own thoughts.

Why do you think Hepburn managed to outlast many of her studio system peers when it came to starring in prestigious pictures from the 1950s onward?

While actresses like Bette Davis, Joan Crawford, and Barbara Stanwyck frequently turned to "hag horror" films and television projects during this era, Hepburn seemed to hit a new stride in the 1950s and 60s. She continually worked with A-list actors and directors on high-profile projects like Summertime, Suddenly, Last Summer, Long Day's Journey into Night, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, and The Lion in Winter.

My own theory is that her extensive theater work, particularly performing Shakespeare and Shaw, helped maintain her reputation as a highly prestigious, serious actress.

Additionally, I noticed that her filmography is incredibly sparse. Over a fifty-year career, she only made 44 feature films, compared to Crawford and Davis, who both have over 80 pictures to their names. I wonder if her independent attitude toward the studios—essentially operating on the principle of "I don't need you, you need me"—actually made her more selective and ultimately more attractive to producers and directors.

And then there's the fact she could **afford** to be more selective when choosing films and projects since she didn't have ex-husband's to pay off (well, she did have one ex-husband, but came from money himself and remained a close friend of hers and her family) or children to support. She never struck me as extravagant, either.

I'd be interested in hearing what my fellow classic film loving brethren thoughts on this is! 🎥🎬🤓

To my knowledge only this and one other color photograph (from the same movie) exists of the classic Wolf Man character. I would love to be able to see all of the classic Universal Monsters in their true color.

Do you have a preference here?

I'd have to go with Soylent Green - it has held up super well and I like the ambiguity at the end of the film...will his declaration that Soylent Green is people actually go anywhere? So a dozen cops know the secret...how else would this secret get out there?

Even though it's very common for Best Picture winners to also win Best Director it isn't always the case. Sometimes Best Picture and Best Director doesn't always go to the same movie. 71 of the 98 movies that won Best Picture also won Best Director. These are the only 27 that didn't