User reviews

Director Howard Hawks, impressed by Carole Lombard acting skills in her recent movies, took a gamble by giving the biggest role to her yet in May 1934's "Twentieth Century." The twenty-six year old actress had never been placed in such a prominent part in a big-budgeted major Hollywood movie before, this playing opposite the legendary, but temperamental John Barrymore. Hawks stuck out his neck to cast her as Mildred Plotka, a lingerie model-turned-actress, despite several more popular stars wanting the part for the Columbia Pictures movie.

Thus, the director was somewhat puzzled by Lombard's lack of spark in the first few days of filming. Hawks speculated it was either through a case of the jitters or from her previous experiences playing unemotional roles that was causing her to hold back. During a break, Hawks posed a question to the actress about what she would do if she heard from others that Barrymore said something derogatory about her behind her back. Lombard replied she would kick him in the groin. "Well, Barrymore said that, so why don't you kick him?" Such backstabbing got her blood pressure up, and she tore into the bewildered Barrymore, the actor not knowing where she was coming from. From that moment on, Lombard played Mildred with the energy Hawks was expecting from her. In fact, Barrymore, who played opposite of many of the screen's most respected veteran actresses, wrote on a photograph of himself to Lombard after filming wrapped, "To the finest actress I have worked with, bar none."

"Twentieth Century" is labeled as one of film's earliest screwball comedies. Adapted from a Charles Millholland unproduced play, 'Napoleon of Broadway,' the work was based on long-time eccentric theater producer David Belasco. He's the one who gave Gladys Marie Smith her stage name, Mary Pickford, reworking the young actress' middle name while selecting her mother's maiden name. The Ben Hecht/Charles MacArthur script shows Oscar Jaffe (Barrymore) treating Mildred (Lombard) harshly during the first days of a play's rehearsal. In one controversial scene where he wants the restrained Mildred to scream, Oscar picks up a sharp pin and jabs her in the buttocks. The incoming head of the Hays Production Code Office, Joseph Breen, not yet in total control of the censor bureau, was troubled with Barrymore's action with the pin.

Hawks had shot a close-up of the pin's penetration into the buttocks, which Breen promptly excised.

Barrymore was approached by Hawks to play the quirky stage producer. The actor asked why would the director think he was a good fit for the role? "It's the story of the biggest ham on earth, and you're the biggest ham I know," said Hawks. Barrymore agreed. Once filming began, the director encouraged his two leads to ad-lib their dialogue. He recalled later, "When people are as good as those two, the idea of just sticking to lines is rather ridiculous." Despite Barrymore's problematic drinking causing delays and reshoots in his recent productions, he was more dedicated to his craft under Hawks' watchful eye. In a rare day's absence from an evening of heavy drinking, Barrymore was so distraught he offered to work for two days for free. He made suggestions in several scenes that are seen on the screen, such as his disguise as a Kentucky Colonel to sneak onto the Twentieth Century train, which at the time was the most modern and fastest train used for the Chicago-New York express.

Lombard and Hawks were aware of Columbia studio head Harry Cohn's habit of making physical passes at new actresses working on his pictures, which he did with Carole. Cohn scheduled a meeting with the director in his office on the progress of the film. While the two were in conversation with Hawks far off to one side, Lombard barged in and exclaimed "I've decided to say yes!" pretending as though the studio president was alone. With the puzzled Cohn's mouth wide open, the actress began removing some of her clothes. Then Hawks cleared his throat and said, "I'd better get out of here if this is the kind of studio you run." The flustered Cohn politely asked the two to leave. The actress never got a wayward grouping of Cohn's hands nor any free-love comments from him again.

Lombard always remembered Hawks' sneaky maneuver at the expense of Barrymore to make her a better actress. Before every movie she was appeared, she sent the director a telegram announcing "I'm going to kick him." "Twentieth Century" proved pivotal in Lombard's career, with studios offering her larger, more prominent roles while her popularity soared worldwide.

Completely over the top, silly but very funny, Twentieth Century makes the most of Carole Lombard and John Barrymore's comedic talents. This film marked the beginning of Lombard's fabulous career (tragically cut short in 1942) and the end of Barrymore's. They truly are two of the best performers that motion picture history has ever seen. I really envy Lombard's ability to laugh on cue, and Barrymore's ability to pull hilarious facial expressions.

Oscar Jaffe, (John Barrymore), a big time director, made Mildred Plotka – now named Lily Garland – a star, but HIS career is taking a battering after Lily packed up her life with him and on stage for Hollywood stardom. They accidentally meet on the Twentieth Century Limited – and hilarity ensues! There is some fantastic physical comedy here and both Barrymore and Lombard are fantastic as the overly dramatic actor/director couple who are only real "from curtain to curtain". It's a great balance of drama/comedy.

My favourite part was definitely the start. I laughed out loud when Barrymore says "Dinga-linga-ling". After seeing him in Dinner at Eight (1933), I was surprised he had THIS much talent for comedy. Carole of course is her usual perfect self. I believe neither overshadows each other. I was very impressed with both of them. However, I have not forgotten the brilliant supporting cast, with the likes of Walter Connolly, Roscoe Karns and Ralph Forbes.

Twentieth Century is a classic screwball comedy which could please the harshest of critics. Dramatic, funny but in many ways climatic. I would have enjoyed it even it had been disappointing as all the fashions were absolutely divine! Wonderful to see Hollywood's greatest actors produce such fine work together. A classic through and through.

Down but not quite out, a megalomaniacal theatrical producer schemes to get his former star & lover back under contract during a wild ride on the TWENTIETH CENTURY Limited racing from Chicago to New York City.

Directed by Howard Hawks from an inspired script by Ben Hecht & Charles MacArthur, this is one of the seminal screwball comedies which would set the high-water mark for years to come - zany characters, living at a frenetic pace, throwing outrageous lines at each other. While the situations are completely unrealistic it makes no matter. Films like this were calculated to lift Depression audiences out of their troubles for an hour or so; today, we long for them to work that old magic again.

In a large & spirited cast there is one eminence, one name above the title, one peak ascending over the smaller hills. John Barrymore, a lifetime of theatrical history and private dissolution etched on his remarkable face, is a grade A ham as the unspeakable Oscar Jaffe, willing to break any convention, law or dogma to get what he wants. Cajoling, pleading, threatening, cooing like a dove, screeching like a banshee, Barrymore is utterly mad, unspeakably obnoxious & thoroughly delightful. He doesn't just dominate the film, he overwhelms it like a thick wave of brimstone & honey. Watching him infuriate his players by chalking their movements on the floor, disguise himself as an elderly Southern gentleman in order to sneak aboard the train, or arranging his own fake death scene to serve his egotistical ends, is to watch a master of the acting art play a comedic role worthy of him.

Carole Lombard is lovely, but completely overshadowed by Barrymore. Her character, while that of a great star, is pitched at a more normal tilt and exists to react to his enormities. While she's wonderful to watch, it's impossible to forget to whom the film really belongs.

The rest of the cast is first rate. Barrymore's two faithful factotums are played by dyspeptic Walter Connolly and sardonic, boozy Roscoe Karns, both of whom have learned to deal with The Master's dictums in different ways. Hatchet-faced Charles Lane plays a director who becomes Barrymore's theatrical blood rival. Edgar Kennedy burnishes his few scenes as a private eye who's no match for an enraged Lombard. Handsome Englishman Ralph Forbes plays against type as a spoiled society boy who thinks he's in love with Lombard. And for sheer looniness there's chittering little Etienne Girardot, playing a benignly mad gentleman wandering about the train plastering large REPENT stickers on every available surface.

Movie mavens will recognize Herman Bing & Lee Kohlmar as the uncredited & hilarious Passion Players from Oberammergau.

Apparently out of step with most of the viewers here on this one, I find Twentieth Century a lot less than meets the eye and ear. Barrymore is great and thunderous, but that is kind of what I have against the pace and tone. Too much yelling, screaming, too frenetic, and the sinuosity of the plot, the way he and Lombard keep sliding around each other in their yelling matches grow increasingly wearisome until it all just gets a little too unbelievable for me, whereas, say the antics of Lombard and Powell in My Man Godfrey are right on, perfect pitch. All that aside, it is a great comedy, far far better than most. Ahead of its time? Certainly. As was Hawks. But are there many scenes I want to see more than once? Not many here. I guess the long and short of it, this seems like one of Ben Hecht's rush jobs. Everything crammed together way too fast, with all kinds of juicy bits with a lot of garbage. And undoubtedly written with, seemingly Barrymore just over his shoulder say, ahh great, I will give that line Superbly, do you want me to cry out of my left eye, or right one, or both. The veritable paroxismitic apotheosis for Johnny Boy. The only movie faster paced than this, and even less successful was One Two Three. Both of them titles of speed, and overwhelmed by the own notion of their pace.

But don't miss either one of them, at least once.

If "The Lady With Red Hair" (about Mrs. Leslie Carter) gave us a good portrait of theatrical producer/director David Belasco (in the capable hands of Claude Rains), this film shows the ham side. Oscar Jaffe (John Barrymore) is based on Belasco, with his less attractive sides. Here is not the man who simply helped create proper modern stage production and rehearsal technique, but the egotistical side of him (the side Rains showed when he released all contacts to Leslie Carter -Miriam Hopkins in that film - when she dared to marry without his consent). Here Jaffe has created the actress sensation "Lily Garland" from an ambitious shop girl named Mildred Plotka (Carole Lombard). Jaffe has played a caring, fatherly Svengali to her, prodding her by caring, sweet, regretful terms to do what he wants (except they are rehearsing). But although - eventually - Lily is willing to become his lover, he is so jealous that he drives her to flee from him. He decides he can do it again, but falls on his face. She goes on to screen immortality in Hollywood. So he is forced to pull out all stops to get her back to a signed contract, when he learns she and he are traveling back to New York on the Twentieth Century train.

Howard Hawks would tackle farce several times in his career: "His Gal Friday", "I Was A Male War Bride", "Man's Favorite Sport" were all in the future. But this may have been the best of them. The other films have great choice moments, but this one is almost flawless from the start. Take the beginning when Jaffe brings the cast of his first play starring Lili. It is a piece of sentimental pap that Jaffe always produces (later on, before being dismissed by him, Charles Lane tells off Jaffe the truth that he produces hackwork and "gets away with it" because of Lili's talent). In fact, it is a spoof of a popular piece of melodrama from the late 1920s, "Coquette", which was turned into a film in 1929 (and netted Mary Pickford an Oscar, which she should have gotten for other films, such as "Sparrows"). The cast, including an African-American in a typical stereotype servant role of the period, have to go through several hours of rehearsing the first scene due to Mildred/Lily's failure to match Jaffe's exacting direction. What the overly controlling Jaffe does with stage blocking and a piece of chalk is a nightmare for anyone who has ever tried to produce or act in a play. He does, however, know about acting - he reminds Mildred/Lily that when she calls for "Daddy" in an old southern plantation house she is not to use a voice similar to calling "Taxi" in the street.

I won't go into the rest of the film, but wait for "the iron door" whose hinges get dingier and more rusted with each closing, or Barrymore's commentary on "the Passion Play". Lombard has a more subtle, reacting part, but she is Barrymore's equal partner, having the moment of reality at the center of the film: on the train, when after screaming at each other she breaks down and cries, and makes Jaffe realize that they have built themselves into an unhealthy universe where they can't be real people anymore. It's a brief, and touching moment - fortunately not destroying the sheer lovely nuttiness of the rest of the film.

Being the devil's advocate, I hazard to say that, as a progenitor of screwball comedy under the craftsmanship of Howard Hawks, who would in due course bring into fruition of quintessential specimens like BRINGING UP BABY (1938) and HIS GIRL Friday (1940), TWENTIETH CENTURY has lost much of its luster compared with his nearest cousin, Frank Capra's more sought-after IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT (1934), came out in the same year, and another commonality: both movies have Walter Connolly and Roscoe Karns in the supporting cast.

The plot can be boiled down to a sado-msochistic relationship between an egoist Broadway impresario Oscar Jaffe (Barrymore) and a prima-donna Lily Garland (Lombard), née Mildred Plotka, a lingerie model turns theatre star under his exclusive tutelage. While it seems that the Jaffe- Garland collaboration is synonymous with success, their relationship actually comes apart at the seams due to Oscar's ingrained controlling nature and objectification of Lily as his private property.

When Lily eventually leaves him and Broadway, and subsequently becomes triumphant in Hollywood, Oscar's theatre output continues to slump sans his muse, his company is going to the wall, only two put-upon sidekicks Oliver Webb (Connolly) and Owen O'Malley (Karns) show their loyalties, both have an inclination of intemperance though, a career hazard by working for Oscar far too long. But fate reunites them and Lily on the 20th Century Limited from Chicago to New York, can Oscar win her heart back, or if that is quite a long shot, at least he can persuade her to sign a new contract with him, to halt his business downturn?

Both Barrymore and Lombard chew up the scenery to the hilt and apparently wallow in their verbal tit-for-tat, but in the eyes of a new audience from the 2lst century, unfortunately Barrymore's overbearing lunacy and Lombard's sentimental tomfoolery do not chime with today's aesthetic values, there is no sympathy or empathy can be teased out, in spite of its initially charming divertissement of the duo's two-play rehearsal segment, the story begins to pall once the train journey starts.

A subplot pivots around a lunatic on board (is there only one?) , Mr. Clark (Girardot), a diminutive but harmless asylum escapee, actually makes for a wackier farce than the central bawling game, it is an ominous sign for this odd satire, don't tell me it represents the hallmark of talkie in that era, that simply cannot be true!

Funny and intelligent comedy features a brilliant performance by Barrymore, spoofing his earlier "Svengali" role. He looks and acts a lot like Peter Sellars would in later similar performances; now morose, then practically jumping with energy. Lombard also turns in a right-on performance.

Here is a film where Hawks really finds his mark, because the comedic action is perfectly timed, flows nicely, and feels natural, and even includes some early Hawks "overlapping dialogue".

Hardly a dull moment, miles above its peers.

As far as comedies go, this film isn't anything special. What is special is John Barrymore. As many other reviewers have noted, his performance in Twentieth Century is just brilliant.

There were some parts of this film that weren't that interesting to me, but I was transfixed by Barrymore. Yes, his performance as Oscar Jaffe is over the top, but that's precisely the point.

Carole Lombard doesn't quite keep up with Barrymore (who can?), but her performance is also excellent. She may not keep up with the master, but she's certainly not overshadowed.

While I thought the storyline of this movie was pretty run of the mill, it was the performances by Barrymore and Lombard that make it something special. Fans of classic movies should see this movie simply to see John Barrymore at his best.

I have seen Twentieth Century several times and even quote one of the great Barrymore lines: After me, she's mousing around with that boy?

Barrymore succeeds so well in this film since he is parodying himself. He exaggerates and the voice is used like a singer who scoops the bottom and then rises an octave or two. It is great fun to hear him ham-up the lines. Lombard matches him in her own fashion and together they create a great comedy team. Unfortunately it is a one-time gag: there are just so many times an actor can parody himself without repeating or ruining any serious moments he might try in another film. (--or herself as Tallulah learned when she tried to perform "Streetcar Named Desire").

An early, indeed pre-Code rollicking screwball comedy directed by one of the masters of the art Howard Hawks scripted by two of the sharpest pens in Hollywood, Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur, adopted from a hit play of the day.

It features now recognisable Hawksian tropes such as a warring couple at the heart of the action, an unusual location setting and a cast of eccentric characters on the sidelines. Leading the troupe are veteran John Barrymore and relative newcomer Carole Lombard. I love the story about how Hawks attracted Barrymore to the part of the tyrannical but wheedling theatrical impresario Oscar Jaffe by telling his lead he wanted a big ham to play a big ham and sure enough old John's performance has enough for a herd of pigs. We're asked to accept the appreciably younger Lombard as his love interest although this is given some credence by his initial star-making Svengali-like grooming of her till-then unknown Mildred Plotka into the radiant leading lady Lily Garland she becomes under his tutelage.

When later she goes all "Don't You Want Me" on him by unreasonably leaving him for her to become a big movie star in Hollywood and him to languish in a string of failed theatrical productions, they coincidentally meet with their respective entourages on an overnight train journey from Chicago to New York (on the train of the title) where in true screwball fashion, they are put in connecting rooms. From this set-up, their paths inevitably criss-cross, he wanting her to star in his epic comeback production of the Passion Play, as Mary Magdalen no less, as well as hopefully getting her to fall back into his jealous clutches while she just wants nothing at all to do with him. Throw into the mix a pair of Russian theatricals looking for some crowd-funding of their own and an eccentric escapee from the local lunatic asylum trying to pass bad cheques in between sticking "Repent" labels on everyone and everything he can like he was at a modern-day major golfing event and you have a recipe, in the right hands of course, for a highly entertaining movie. And of course, the right hands is right where we are!

The dialogue is rapid fire and humorous, with some withering attacks on the acting profession and amusing running gags involving chalk-marked floors and iron-doors. Barrymore is great fun as the over-the-top producer while Lombard lets herself go too much at times but is otherwise mostly radiant and sexy as the cheese in the trap trying to escape the mouse.

With a neat circular ending too, this early screwball comedy still stands up well today and is definitely worth bracketing alongside other Hawks' masterpieces of the same ilk such as "His Girl Friday", "Bringing Up Baby" and "Ball Of Fire" to name but three.

This self aggrandizing film celebrates everything that is ugly about Hollywood. If that is your thing, then this is for you. Don't get me wrong, I did get a chuckle over the acclaimed Barrymore sending his lackey out to buy all the Dervishes from the sultan of Constantinople, but I just couldn't fully commit to the full on mad train car dash and rapid fire tricks, lies, and dialogue set to win back our actress in this mad-dash romp. The death toll for this film for me was my ears bleeding due to Carole Lombard's cacophonous and overly dramatic wailing. This went beyond watch and delete and traversed into the realm of couldn't stomach a repeat and would warn others to avoid. Both of these amazing actors have far better performances in other films. Read the summary for this film, it is gentler on one's ears and watch them act in other films.

John Barrymore is in rare form in Twentieth Century (1934), Howard Hawks's hilarious, fast-paced screwball comedy. He plays flamboyant Broadway director-producer Oscar Jaffe, a man for whom the whole world is truly a stage. The always enchanting Carole Lombard co-stars as Mildred Plotka/Lily Garland. (Oscar demanded the name change because Mildred Plotka isn't nearly as glamorous sounding as Lily Garland.) Mildred, an aspiring Broadway actress, is remade by Oscar into a star of the New York stage. For three years he directs her plays, guides her career, and is her lover. But after they have a big disagreement, she takes off for Hollywood. Her career soars; his plummets. Time passes and then on board the Twentieth Century heading for Grand Central Station, they meet again. As usual in a Hawks film, the supporting cast is outstanding; and Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur's screenplay is one of their finest.

Twentieth Century (1934) : Brief Review-

If Star Is Born or Singin' In The Rain had a Hysterical & Theatrical follow-up story. Howard Hawks' best screwball comedy before classic 'Bringing Up Baby'. If there is any comedy by director Howard Hawks that I remember, then it is the Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn-starrer "Bringing Up Baby" (1938). I just love that film, and it is because of that film that I don't really like Howard's later comedies from the 50s much. Thankfully, I came to know about Twentieth Century Today and I'm glad to know that Hawks had made something really this hysterical before the innocently hilarious Bringing Up Baby. Let's just forget the plot because I think there are a lot of flaws in it, but I must say that the comedy and madness have covered the lost ground. Who cares about the storyline in a good comedy anyway? We hardly get a superb story line in a good comedy, and then that film is called evergreen or cult classic which is very rare in the comedy genre, especially in the 30s when screwball was a new innovation. A flamboyant Broadway impresario who has fallen on hard times tries to get his former lover, now a Hollywood diva, to return and resurrect his failing career. I loved that scene when Lombard says, "That's our problem, we are real and true only in between curtains," and the rest of the time they are just faking it in full romantic mode because acting was in their blood. That's what the metaphor they were trying to explain, I suppose. God will never forgive me if I say I didn't like John Barrymore and Carole Lombard in this film. Having seen Barrymore in classic "Grand Hotel" (1932), I never imagined that the charming guy could be so dramatically funny. Lombard was a riot in classic "My Man Godfrey" (1936), and this was like a rehearsal of that evergreen character for her. As a whole, Hawks' comedy is all about madness, craziness and theatrical & dramatic hysterics. Don't miss this if you are looking to spend your bowl of popcorn and Sunday evening on something funny.

RATING - 7/10*

By - #samthebestest.

This film represents the pinnacle of Hollywood's Golden Age. The dialogue is witty and fast-paced, the acting is perfect, and most of all you will laugh until your sides split! Carol Lombard deserves to be called the queen of comedy, and John Barrymore will surprise you, especially if your only knowledge of him was from Grand Hotel. The supporting cast is great, especially Walter Connolly as Barrymore's much-put-upon associate.

Watch this one for John Barrymore, who is so perfectly cast as the eccentric and frenetic Broadway director who rants and raves melodramatically at everyone around him. He makes a star out of a young woman (Carole Lombard) and gets involved with her personally, but when he becomes too controlling, she leaves him to make films in Hollywood. Barrymore and Lombard are both in roles where they have to act as a person who is always acting, and sometimes the character is doing this well, sometimes not, which is probably not all that easy. Regardless, they both give big, emotive performances here, and are delightful on the screen. The script is not outstanding but it's reasonably good, and there were a few genuinely funny moments.

Interestingly enough, director Howard Hawks had to coach the young actor Carole Lombard into letting go, just as Barrymore does with her character in the film. As Todd McCarthy tells it in his book on Howard Hawks, Lombard was very stiff and unnatural, so he pulled her aside and asked her "What would you do if someone said such and such to you?" The often-salty Lombard's reply was "I'd kick him in the balls!" Hawks then channeled this into the lovely kicking scene in the film, telling her "Now we're going back in and make this scene and you kick, and you do any damn thing that comes into your mind that's natural, and quit acting. If you don't quit, I'm going to fire you this afternoon." Hawks claimed that from then on, "She never began another picture after that without sending me a telegram that said, 'I'm gonna start kicking him.'"

John Barrymore, Carole Lombard, Walter Connelly, Roscoe Karns, Charles Lane and Etienne Girardot ride the "Twentieth Century" in this outrageous 1934 comedy directed by Howard Hawks. The story was made into a successful musical in the 1970s that starred Madeline Kahn and John Cullum. Barrymore plays Oscar Jaffe, a producer who molds, discovers and renames Mildred Plotka "Lily Garland," who becomes a huge Broadway star. The two lovers, both of volatile temperaments, at last part and Lily heads for Hollywood, where her face appears on every magazine cover. On the Twentieth Century Limited from Chicago to New York, Jaffe becomes determined to win Lily back.

Talk about your wild rides - Barrymore is a total maniac in this movie, and I could have watched him forever. His Oscar Jaffe is egomaniacal and given to great, melodramatic speeches and gestures. You have to see him to believe it. When he meets actors from the Oberammagau Passion Play, he decides to produce that to woo Lily back and cast her as Mary Magdalene. His description of his lavish production is hilarious. When his assistant Oliver Webb (Connelly) gets a religious man, Mathew J. Clark (Girardot) to back the production with what turns out to be a bad check, Oscar demands a telegram be sent to John Ringling: "I'm in the market for 25 camels, several elephants, and an ibis... Give me the rock-bottom price." Mathew Clark in the meantime is busy pasting stickers on all the train windows that say REPENT.

Carole Lombard is an able partner for Barrymore, given to wild fits of screaming and hysteria. In the only serious moment in the film, she tells Oscar that the two of them are "lithographs" who can only emote if it's written and rehearsed - they're no longer real people. Then the moment passes. Her reaction - after listening for awhile - to Oscar's producing plans for The Passion Play is priceless! The supporting cast is wonderful.

"Twentieth Century," however, belongs to John Barrymore, one of the greatest actors who ever lived. In her lectures to her students, Stella Adler said he was one of a rare breed who no longer exist. What a pity, and thank goodness we have him on film.

A must-see!

This film is generally considered a screwball comedy, but I think this classification does it a serious disservice because it's a stretch to call this structurally dull drama about tedious people a comedy.

The film is about the unhealthy relationship between a theater director and the star he discovered. Nothing much actually happens. This is not a comedy plot. Just like you can play a good comedy plot straight and get a comedy, you can make a comedy out of any plot by playing it as one. Unfortunately, that's not what we have here.

The two lead actors, John Barrymore and Carole Lombard, turned in fantastic performances that make their characters extremely believable. This is what makes this film so great in a way, but it's also why it doesn't work as a comedy.

As has been pointed out by another reviewer (who for some reason -- tradition? -- considers this an "exceptionally good screwball comedy"), John Barrymore plays the theater director in a style now generally associated with Peter Sellers. Unfortunately, he does it so well that it doesn't actually feel like overacting. Carole Lombard is an even worse offender, playing the volatile and vulnerable diva who has lost the ability to distinguish between her private life and acting -- and doing it so convincingly that it isn't really funny.

I generally find this kind of relationship drama tedious, but I would probably have liked this one well enough due to the added humor. If only it hadn't been sold to me as a comedy. Now I am in awe at the excellent acting, but feel cheated because the film doesn't fit its label. It's a fantastic film, it's a drama with some humorous elements, but it's a lousy comedy. Apparently this mislabeling plagued the film from the beginning. Most likely it was intended as a comedy and degenerated accidentally. I am not surprised that this film flopped in cinemas despite its excellent quality. Apparently, a lot of movie-goers felt cheated just like I did.

As a comedy I would rate it a 5 or 6. As a drama, the acting elevates it to somewhere around 7-9. But I don't like this kind of drama, and it's labeled a comedy, so I go with 6.

The screwball comedy began in the early thirties and went out of fashion before the second world war. The Twentieth Century of 1934 is a first class screwball comedy especially written for Barrymore who fits the role like a leather glove. The style however is too smart for the general movie consumer outside of large cities like New York where there is real cosmopolitan theater. Lombard is total perfection and excellent opposite to Barrymore. They are funny and dramatic with perfect exact timing seldom seen in film today. One of Howard Hawks extremely over looked movies but will hopefully change now with a new generation. A zany comedy which barely pauses for any kind of romance but is about romance. If you are one of those who love the silver screen and crazy screwball comedy genre of the 30's this is a must.

A flamboyant Broadway impresario (John Barrymore) who has fallen on hard times tries to get his former lover (Carole Lombard), now a Hollywood diva, to return and resurrect his failing career.

In December 2011, Twentieth Century was deemed "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant" by the United States Library of Congress and selected for preservation in the National Film Registry. In its induction, the Registry said that the "sophisticated farce about the tempestuous romance of an egocentric impresario and the star he creates did not fare well on its release, but has come to be recognized as one of the era's finest film comedies, one that gave John Barrymore his last great film role and Carole Lombard her first." John Barrymore was a great actor, as were many in his family (I am partial to Lionel). Lombard was great in her own right, too. This film is okay. Not amazing, definitely not my favorite from Howard Hawks. But it does have some historical value, as pointed out by the National Film Registry. Anyone who wants to see this, I would not stop them.

Someone said they couldn't enjoy the film where Barrymore and Lombard spent most of the time screaming. However, that's the whole point: the very art of screwball comedies lies on fast paced talking, screaming at each other aka battle of the sexes and absurd situations.

Twentieth Century is actually one of the earliest films that explored this type of comedy. If you can stomach this genre, Barrymore and Lombard will become genuinely hilarious in your eyes. Also, I am quite convinced Gene Wilder's Dr Victor Frankenstein was (at very least partially) modeled after Oscar Jaffe.

I'm sure everyone's experienced this a few times in their film watching lives: you sit down excitedly to watch a film that is widely considered to be a classic, but, from start to finish, it rubs you the wrong way. Nearly everything about it bothers you, you are annoyed and you can't see how anyone could possibly enjoy it. That's what happened to me when I watched Howard Hawks' Twentieth Century. I was led to believe that it was one of the best comedies of the 1930s. For its first half, I wasn't even quite sure it was a comedy. I could see a few comic bits, notably a stereotypical inebriated character, but it didn't seem to be trying to be a comedy. Maybe a subtle comedy, I thought. It wasn't working on me at all. The second half jumps into a more plainly comic situation, but to me it still wasn't working. I laughed exactly once, a small guffaw that I wished I could have taken back. The plot involves egotistical theater director John Barrymore as he discovers, then moulds, then loves, then loses, then tries to get back Carole Lombard. I guess the comedy is supposed to come from Barrymore's extreme hamminess. To be fair, nobody does ham like John Barrymore, and he does it well. But it doesn't seem too far off his dramatic roles, so I never got that I was supposed to find his meanness amusing. I just hated him. I pitied Lombard as the ingénue at the beginning of the film. Later in the film, she also is a blowhard, a famous Hollywood actress. I hated her, as well. Barrymore and Lombard spend most of the movie shouting at each other at ridiculous volumes. I just wanted it to end. It just seemed like the kind of thing a playwright would find clever, and it comes off as a badly written play.