gridoon2018
....most of all, the somber ending - very rare for a 1930s movie. The production is A-class; Dorothy Arzner's direction is smooth; Sylvia Sidney looks exceptionally beautiful; and the script is thin but sophisticated: for example, when Sidney complains to March near the end of the movie that he has never told her that he loves her, you realize that it's true. *** out of 4.
Antonius Block
Clever dialogue, fantastic acting, and several great scenes made this film a delight for me, but be forewarned, its main character may have you saying 'grrr', and reduce your enjoyment. Frederic March plays a newspaper reporter / playwright who has a drinking problem, and it's while he's drunk at a party that he meets a charming young lady, played by Sylvia Sidney. The two hit it off and despite the concerns of her rich father (George Irving), get married. Things get complicated when his ex-lover (Adrianne Allen) re-surfaces and he struggles to control his problem.It's a very strong cast all around, and Sidney in particular turns in a great performance. She ranges from a sweet, naïve, and trusting soul, loving unconditionally, to hurt and confused, to woman whose solution is to give her husband a taste of his own medicine, in a rather shocking development. The scene with her partying with her own young lover (Cary Grant no less) and his friends and quipping "Gentlemen, I give you the holy state of matrimony, modern style: single lives, twin beds and triple bromides in the morning" is sad, empowering, and a little thrilling all at the same time. As they're in a bar that's practically a den of iniquity, it's all clearly pre-code, but there is an intelligence and honesty in this scene, and throughout the movie.March is also strong as this affable but flawed man, and in early scenes we smile at his partying, at one point yelling "Is there a baritone in the house?" until he finds a barman to fill out a quartet with his friends so that they can break out in song. The warning signs are there in his tardiness and even at his wedding, as he and his best man (Skeets Gallagher) fumble for the ring, which he's forgotten. That scene is one of several that are well directed by Dorothy Arzner, as she cuts to guests making observations and the facial reactions of March and Sidney as they say their vows.There is a lot of partying and revelry which may put some viewers off, but I found that allowed for some fantastic moments. In one, March asks Sidney to shut the door and hold him back from going to the other woman, and in a strong way she opens it wide and says "I'm no jailer - get out!" In another, as March and Allen 'play-act' a passionate kiss to the merriment of others right in front of her, we feel the shock and humiliation amplified by her brilliant facial reaction. The title is clearly meant to titillate, but the film has real substance beneath. It's wild, but also realistic, though I didn't care too much for the ending. We see what destructive behavior leads to, and in that I suppose there is a message, but it's delivered without heavy-handed moralizing. The plot is a tad melodramatic, but it's daring and unique in the areas it explores. Well worth checking out, if you're in the mood for pre-code.
JohnHowardReid
Director Dorothy Arzner was extremely popular with her stars because she always coddled them with close-up after close-up and ensured they were always fastidiously wardrobed and photographed to perfection, no matter how soap-suddy the screenplay. "Merrily We Go To Hell" (1932) serves as another typical example of her languid, star-indulgent style. Lovers of weepie-eyed Sylvia Sidney and sartorially splendid Fredric March will enjoy both the 9/10 VintageFilmBuff DVD and its 10/10 Universal rival. The only thing I really liked about this predictably plotted, slow- moving film was the unexpected appearance of perennial butler Charles Coleman as a gossip columnist with a well-founded dislike for our wastrel hero. But as for Cary Grant pouring on the charm in a small bit at a party scene, words fail me!
Phillim
Plucky rich daddy's girl Sylvia Sidney falls for charming drunk reporter Frederic March. Enabling, delusion, mutual dive ensues.Sidney's work is the reason to see this one -- she tirelessly, valiantly tries to breathe life into this otherwise badly-written, badly-directed 'racy' pre-Code weeper. (It pains me to say that: Dorothy Arzner was the only female features director in Hollywood in the 1930s, and reportedly part of Nazimova's crowd of fabulous lesbians).March's work is general and repetitive -- thoroughly unconvincing. It's an amateur's performance. He got a chance to make amends a few years later as the charming drunk in the superior 'A Star Is Born'.Newcomer Cary Grant gets a few seconds screen time as a hot side piece in the tawdry perdition sequence. Old vaudevillian 'Skeets' Gallagher keeps threatening to do something as magical as his name, but never gets the chance.'Merrily We Go to Hell' is a waste of a great title. Pity.
