1930 Relic Reveals New Star and Forgotten Disaster
Few would know or care about The Painted Desert were if not for bold entrance by screen-talking-for-a-first-time Clark Gable. Fact that two men were killed making the film is largely lost to time, but more of that anon. What's noteworthy today is Gable as burly mop sweeping players mere specks on desert floor, up to/including William, billed as "Bill," Boyd who'd later get immortality as Hopalong Cassidy. Boyd's got no chance vs. Gable, which is interesting because both had rich voices and presence. Bill was still adjusting to talkies. He and others read lines, then wait politely for a partner to finish, reminiscent of courtesy that kept titles up long enough for folks to absorb during silent days. That was when Boyd made initial splash as clean-cut action man for DeMille. What he's up against with Gable is aggression as it couldn't be expressed in an era of screen quiet. CG is abrupt and growls his lines. He'd be tamed somewhat later on, especially after the Code, and never again so feral as here. Entrance to The Painted Deserthas him demanding water of about-to-evaporate Helen Twelvetrees and prairie rat dad J. Farrell MacDonald, otherwise capable players fossilized beside this future of picture stardom. Later when Boyd comes to confront Gable, it's like Bambi trying to subdue Godzilla. The voice was what commended Gable. It's deep to a seeming core of then-recorders, him an aural threat all new to an art now heard as well as seen. Chaney Sr. had that resonance, and danger that went with it, in The Unholy Three, but that first talkie would also be his last.
It wasn't just the voice pitched low, but how Gable used it. He'll break up a line and put emphasis where not expected. That's stage training, no doubt, plus what coach and first wife Josephine Dillon taught him. Accounts say Gable's voice was a good deal higher before she had him yell off cliffs to pull it down. Does a deep tone command respect in life as in movies? I'd guess so. There were a few lead men out of silents who crashed with talk for sounding "like Minnie Mouse" (a derisive phrase to describe more than one). That saloon showdown from The Painted Desert was used in 1968's NBC special, Dear Mr. Gable, to illustrate how he commanded the screen from onset, and it was funny then to see how Boyd shrinks at the verbal onslaught. The
The Painted Desert has long been understood as a B western, which it wasn't, being sold as a special per these first-run ads and trade reports of
A check of Garnett's 1973 memoir finds no mention of what happened on The Painted Desert. Garnett only recalls the film in terms of Gable's participation --- fact they paid the actor $150 a week, Pathé foolishly failing to sign him long-term, etc. Even after so many years, Garnett wasn't going to dredge up the
