Early talkies such as "Untamed" always astound me as to how they supplanted silent films. The art form had achieved a new peak at the end of the silent era, then, audiences and studios decided to patronize this sort of shoddy drivel. The best that may be said of "Untamed" is that it proved Joan Crawford, in her first sound film, could be a star in the talkies. Her voice was fine, and her eyes expressive. She shines in the scenes where she returns to the type of flapper role that initially made her a star in the silent "Our Dancing Daughters" (1928). Her singing and the opening dancing scene are awkward, but as others have mentioned, she proved her musical talent in other pictures. Worse yet are her histrionics in her father's death scene, which is too early in the picture to deserve to be so maudlin, and her ludicrous actions in response to beau Andy's drunkenness in the denouement. The inane story and dialogue do her no favors, nor does her character being named "Bingo."
At least, Crawford can throw a better punch than her co-star Robert Montgomery. Apparently, he learned a bit about boxing in the time between his hilariously-bad bout here and his starring as a prizefighter in "Here Comes Mr. Jordan" (1941), which doesn't feature impressive fight scenes by any means, but at least they're not ridiculous like this one. The only boxing scene I recall being possibly worse than this was seeing Wallace Beery whiffing haymakers in "The Champ" (1931). In "Untamed," the filmmakers fail to conceal the pulled, mostly liver punches with fast-motion and jump cuts. Compared to this contest, Montgomery's singing is far superior. Meanwhile, Ernest Torrence, who was one of the best character actors of the silent era (with his imposing stature, he was a natural villain), unfortunately, delivers many of his lines with an irritatingly-elongated drawl, as if the dialogue weren't complete rubbish already.
The melodrama is classist, colonialist and sexist, concerning the "civilizing" of the "untamed" Bingo and her and Andy not marrying because he's not rich enough to buy her expensive jewelry, and his "Scotch pride" won't allow them to live on her wealth. The plot is episodic, jumping from a rather racially-offensive sequence where the father is murdered by a lascivious racial "other" in South America, to the jungle-wild Bingo flirting with Andy aboard an ocean liner while Uncle Ben rails against the folly of the whippersnappers' love when he's not trying to squeeze out a drink from a broken bottle of hooch on the floor (hey, what happened to the monkey Chico, anyways?), to Bingo being the life of the party as a New York flapper as she continues her hot-and-cold nonsense affair with Andy and continues to argue it out with her uncle. A carry-over from the silent era, title cards separate the acts and describe ellipses.
"Untamed" also suffers from the usual creakiness from only the second theatrical season of regular talkies, including being a production confined to sound stages and background noise, such as during the party scenes, tending to drown out dialogue. Editing from long to less-long, if not medium or close-up, shots tend to look like jump cuts, especially when not concealed by matching on action. Missing fourth walls are especially apparent in stagy scenes in the cramped ship cabins and in a sequence where their lack is literally exposed by the camera following characters through three rooms of a men's club. The film's average shot length of 12.6 seconds is made lethargic by being compounded by awkward editing, a lack of close-ups and camera movement and an abundance of bad dramaturgy. "Untamed" fails in most regards to tame the new medium of talking pictures.
But, again, what happened to Chico? He's the real star in this one; it's too bad he only had one scene.
At least, Crawford can throw a better punch than her co-star Robert Montgomery. Apparently, he learned a bit about boxing in the time between his hilariously-bad bout here and his starring as a prizefighter in "Here Comes Mr. Jordan" (1941), which doesn't feature impressive fight scenes by any means, but at least they're not ridiculous like this one. The only boxing scene I recall being possibly worse than this was seeing Wallace Beery whiffing haymakers in "The Champ" (1931). In "Untamed," the filmmakers fail to conceal the pulled, mostly liver punches with fast-motion and jump cuts. Compared to this contest, Montgomery's singing is far superior. Meanwhile, Ernest Torrence, who was one of the best character actors of the silent era (with his imposing stature, he was a natural villain), unfortunately, delivers many of his lines with an irritatingly-elongated drawl, as if the dialogue weren't complete rubbish already.
The melodrama is classist, colonialist and sexist, concerning the "civilizing" of the "untamed" Bingo and her and Andy not marrying because he's not rich enough to buy her expensive jewelry, and his "Scotch pride" won't allow them to live on her wealth. The plot is episodic, jumping from a rather racially-offensive sequence where the father is murdered by a lascivious racial "other" in South America, to the jungle-wild Bingo flirting with Andy aboard an ocean liner while Uncle Ben rails against the folly of the whippersnappers' love when he's not trying to squeeze out a drink from a broken bottle of hooch on the floor (hey, what happened to the monkey Chico, anyways?), to Bingo being the life of the party as a New York flapper as she continues her hot-and-cold nonsense affair with Andy and continues to argue it out with her uncle. A carry-over from the silent era, title cards separate the acts and describe ellipses.
"Untamed" also suffers from the usual creakiness from only the second theatrical season of regular talkies, including being a production confined to sound stages and background noise, such as during the party scenes, tending to drown out dialogue. Editing from long to less-long, if not medium or close-up, shots tend to look like jump cuts, especially when not concealed by matching on action. Missing fourth walls are especially apparent in stagy scenes in the cramped ship cabins and in a sequence where their lack is literally exposed by the camera following characters through three rooms of a men's club. The film's average shot length of 12.6 seconds is made lethargic by being compounded by awkward editing, a lack of close-ups and camera movement and an abundance of bad dramaturgy. "Untamed" fails in most regards to tame the new medium of talking pictures.
But, again, what happened to Chico? He's the real star in this one; it's too bad he only had one scene.