Let’s talk Hollywood before the rules kicked in before we get to some of the down and dirty about John Gilbert’s Downstairs … shall we? Trust me — it’s going to help make things a bit understandable.

Per Wikipedia’s Pre-Code Hollywood: “… films in the late 1920s and early 1930s included sexual innuendo, miscegenation, profanity, illegal drug use, promiscuity, prostitution, infidelity, abortion, intense violence and homosexuality … Nefarious characters were seen to profit from their deeds, in some cases without significant repercussions …” (There’s quite the lengthy read at that link. Take a visit — it’s really quite interesting.)

Of the 10 mentions in the above quotation, we get a healthy dose of sexual innuendo, promiscuity, infidelity and intense violence feeding Downstairs, much of it rather shocking if you don’t know what’s coming. And, honestly, I didn’t know what was coming as the film unfolded.

Starring a debonair John Gilbert (who also wrote and hocked the film) as a newly hired chauffeur, the film begins with Gilbert traipsing into his new digs at the vast, bustling estate of the Baron Von Burgen (Reginald Owen, Ebenezer Scrooge in 1938’s A Christmas Carol). There’s a wedding going on, the nuptials of The Baron’s head butler Albert (Paul Lukas) and one of the young maids of the estate, Anna (Virginia Bruce). And right away, after a traditional stomping of grapes to bring good luck to the newly wedded couple, the lascivious Karl greets the bride with a big wet one right smack dab on the kisser. (Video below.) With that big wet one, we’re off to the races and hungry for what other sorts of mischief Karl gets involved with.

And it doesn’t take long for this heel’s true colors to come shining through. He bumps into a former lover at the wedding celebration who is none too pleased to see him fraternizing with the guests. He begins an affair with one of the cooks on the estate and sleeps with her. Chauffeuring The Baroness to a shopping excursion one day that turns into a rendezvous for good lovin’ monkey business, Karl is in just the right position to gather enough information to hold over her head for later use. Meanwhile, he continues his pursuit of newly wed Anna who he’s got a thing for, turning on the suspicions of her rather stuffy husband Albert. (Karl’s seductions of Anna are pretty effective. She’s naive enough to sleep with him — finding out he’s one hell of a lover — and ends up carrying that torch despite being a new bride. After all, why settle for the plain vanilla of Albert when she can have Karl, too, with all tasty sprinkles and a cherry on top?)

And … what? I didn’t mention the year this film was made, did I? 1932. Yep. This little gem got in right under the period where Hollywood ultimately got pressured into cleaning up its act and having to censor the raciness running rampant in the industry. And here I thought I was getting a little treat of a flick featuring Reginald Owen. Hardly! My jaw dropped all over the place watching this thing! It dropped at Sophie the cook swiping flour off Karl’s backside in the kitchen! At Karl arranging a room at an inn for a bit of hanky-panky with Anna! And at Anna confessing to her husband what a great piece of ass Karl is! Zounds!

(Side Note: Universal’s Frankenstein was pre-code, too, having been released in 1931. There was plenty of controversy in that film at the time as well as deleted scenes, not the least of which was Frankenstein’s monster killing that little village girl by tossing her into the drink. Still, Hollywood had the wherewithal to delete the scene. It’s since been reinstated into the classic.)

At the film’s conclusion, Karl almost gets strangled to death by by the uber-jealous Albert, but he’s unceremoniously kicked out of the Baron’s employ instead … only to wind up at yet another employer, another hottie ripe for his seductive pickings.

Karl: A nefarious character always at the ready to reap the profits of his philandering ways and with nary a repercussion, indeed.

I confess this was a guilty pleasure akin to stealing glances at your father’s Playboy collection as a kid. With Downstairs under my belt, I’m primed and ready for additional Forbidden Hollywood titles from the Warner Archive Collection.

As a remastered print, I was duly impressed with the quality — extremely clean for something originally produced in 1932, impressively so. A few extras would have been a nice compliment. Hey … I can dream, can’t I?

//www.youtube.com/watch?v=TNzIAkX2Y40

Downstairs is part of the Forbidden Hollywood Collection: Volume 6 provided to CliqueClack by the Warner Archive Collection.

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