One Way Passage (1932)
I should also note this movie is fantastic, offering a complex blend of drama and comedy, with the latter enhancing the emotional impact of the former, rather than detracting. The jokes, which I'll add are pretty hilarious, pull you into the sense of whimsy and hope that comes with falling in love, even if the situation is dire. Tonally, this is a fairytale set in the midst of a tragedy, and it balances these flawlessly.
That alone makes the film worth tracking down, so feel free to check out of this review and track it down if you'd rather avoid having the plot spoiled, not that spoilers are likely to have much of an impact here. Once you understand the premise - and it doesn't take long for the movie to lay that out - you kind of have a feel for where it's probably headed, even if there's just enough wiggle room around the edges to make you wonder if it might end differently.
Nearly the entire picture is set on a large passenger ship traveling across the Pacific Ocean. The main protagonist is Dan, a condemned prisoner being taken back to America to hang for committing murder. We never learn too many of the details, but a couple supporting characters make it clear there were extenuating circumstances that forgive his actions from an ethical standpoint, if not a legal one.
Dan is played by William Powell, the legendary actor best known as Nick from The Thin Man. His performance here is fairly similar to how he'd approach that role a few years later, though he's less consistently drunk. The dry wit and ironic observations are the same, however, and - just as in The Thin Man - he's more lover than fighter.
His love interest is Joan (played by Kay Francis), who's dying of some unspecified disease. She's on her way to America, as well, where she'll be placed in a medical facility for her remaining days. Just how many days that entails is largely up to her: if she follows her doctor's advice and rests, she's likely to last several months. Alternatively, if she continues going to parties, drinking, and staying up late, she'll be lucky to even make it to America.
It probably won't surprise you to learn neither knows about the other's circumstances for the majority of the movie. They meet early on and fall head-over-heels for each other after sharing drinks, breaking their glasses, and leaving the stems crossing, an act that becomes a sort of tradition for the pair. And also, you know, a symbol of the whole star-crossed lovers thing at the heart of the movie. Look, I said this was good; I never promised subtlety.
You'd expect a movie with a premise like that to wallow in melodrama, especially when I reveal (final *spoiler alert*) there's no magic reprieve or surprise misdiagnosis or last-minute escape. But despite the reality of the situation hanging over them, the movie instead focuses on a series of comedic hijinks as their relationship develops. This builds goodwill for the characters and their relationship, which in turn makes the resolution all the more effective.
Dan buys a degree of freedom on the ship after saving the life of the detective who captured him (who, it should be noted, never realizes Dan put him in danger in the first place, or that the only reason he saved the detective rather than escaping was that Joan was watching). He's also assisted by a pair of career criminals who happen to be present, Skippy and Betty, the latter of whom spends most of the movie disguised as a baroness who seduces and outwits the detective. When they dock in Hawaii, she buys Dan a last chance to get away, but by then he's realized Joan isn't as well as she appears and sacrifices his own life to bring her back to the boat. He soon learns from Joan's doctor that her condition is terminal, though he keeps up the illusion that they'll have a future together.
That future, incidentally, hinges on New Year's, one month away, when they plan to meet, each knowing it's a false hope but not wanting to break the other's heart. This escalates even further at the end, when Joan learns Dan's secret and keeps up appearances to the contrary, just as he'd done for her. The epilogue shows the New Year's they'd planned. Skippy is there, sitting quietly alone. Two bartenders hear glasses break and turn. We're shown a pair of crossed stems just long enough to give us hope that maybe there actually was some sort of miraculous twist that permitted them to survive. After all, the detective seemed to be having second thoughts (by the end, he and Betty fell in love, she came clean, and he made plans to leave his job and become a farmer, a profession she also aspired to). And, since we never learned the details around Joan's condition, a twist on that account wasn't out of the question, either.
But the glasses fade away through the magic of double exposure, one of the oldest effects in cinema. You can take this as a symbol of their dreams evaporating or of their spirits being together in death - I think either interpretation fits. But what's clear is that they've both died.
It's not the ending we want, but it's the one the movie needs. Any sort of last-minute magic would have cheapened the film, which is fueled by the struggle between fantasy and reality. The story is one of love and joy in the face of mortality and tragedy. In a real sense, every relationship is forged with the understanding it will one day end in death: all of us are on a one-way passage, and it's our choice how to face it. The movie's advice is to choose love.
You can rattle off countless subsequent films with similar themes. Joe Versus the Volcano might be the most obvious example, even if it goes in a different direction at the finale. I was also reminded of the criminally underrated sci-fi dark romantic comedy, Seeking a Friend for the End of the World, which likewise finds humor and love in the face of tragedy.
But neither of those have anything to do with Christmas, so let's instead turn to the 1944 romantic drama, I'll Be Seeing You. There are quite a few similarities with One Way Passage: both movies start with a chance encounter kicking off a love story about a couple with secrets connected to illness and a murder (well, manslaughter) conviction, both use New Year's as a symbol, and both attempt to blend comedy and drama. I'll Be Seeing You's ending is decidedly more optimistic, largely because no one's dying, and the prison term in question is only for another three years.
None of this was original to One Way Passage, of course - the "star-crossed lovers" trope is likely as old as stories - so I wouldn't assume any of the later films were directly referencing this (though I wouldn't surprise me to learn it was an influence on any). Regardless, the tonal balance in One Way Passage, coupled with Powell's affable performance, makes this well worth tracking down for fans of any of those films, or really fans of classic cinema in general.
I do, however, have one criticism. Despite ostensibly being a story about both Dan and Joan, the film's POV through the vast majority of its runtime is from the male character's perspective. It's less an error than a missed opportunity, but it does feel like Kay Francis is denied a chance to shine (though for what it's worth, Aline MacMahon comes close to stealing the whole show as Betty).
This is well worth watching on its own merits, though - as I said before - it's less a holiday movie than a movie that uses the holidays in an interesting and effective way. I do find it notable that movies from this era (or at least those I've seen) appear more likely to focus on New Year's than Christmas. Whether this is a phenomenon unique to movies or if the significance of New Year's was simply larger in 1930s America is a question I still need to answer, but the trend does seem to be holding as I get around to more films of the era.
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