Some members of Generation Z are lamenting the days of Hollywood’s strict adherence to the voluntary (well, technically) set of censorship standards known as the Motion Picture Production Code, or the Hays Code, from 1934 until the late 1960s. These films explored issues of sexual power between heterosexual men and women nearly a century ago, including the possibility that women might have and even enjoy sexual activity.
The Code, pushed for by outspoken Christian groups, didn’t uphold the status quo so much as establish a new one based on their narrow interpretation of what’s considered acceptable. And it wasn’t just sexual content; movies also couldn’t portray authority figures — especially religious leaders — as fallible without taking extraordinary precautions.
That led to decades of popular mass entertainment that portrayed the police as infallible and the clergy as harmless, among other authoritarian tendencies among the American public. Since it was impossible to make an example out of criminals, even unjust laws were held in high regard.
Homosexuality was not allowed, and neither was dating someone of a different race. The “virtue” that Code supporters claim to miss also eradicated female sexual agency, queerness, and the possibility that a couple could consist of more than two straight, same-race individuals.
Some of the best films of all time were made either strictly adhering to the Code’s rules, or bending them in just the right ways. Directors like Hitchcock knew how to amp up sexual tension (and innuendo) to craft scenes that feel at least as sexy as actual sex scenes while also misdirecting the censors.
However, idealizing censorship that served primarily to keep women in their place and to elevate authority above the needs of the underprivileged is nave at best. Instead, let’s celebrate the irreverent attitude of these silent movies, which show that Hollywood has always been obsessed with vice.
Night Nurse
One of my all-time favorite films is Night Nurse, which co-stars Barbara Stanwyck and Joan Blondell and boasts a bold blend of silliness and seriousness by providing a variety of excuses to get its leads to undress (down to their underwear, at least), and then upping the drama by having the two young nurses battle wealthy trust fund heirs (sometimes physically) to save a kid in danger.
There isn’t a tonne of sex here, but there is a much more pronounced class consciousness in the central conflict than later films would portray, and the strength of Stanwyck’s character would have almost certainly been softened with a romance had the film been made a few years later.
Instead, she and her bootlegger boyfriend cover up a murder (he deserved it) and ride off into the sunset. Under the Code, no woman would have been able to get away with any of that; not even the unrepentant bootlegger boyfriend.
The Public Enemy
It’s easy to find a list of the best American gangster films, and you’ll notice that the majority of them are either from before or after the Production Code was enacted. During this time, films were subject to not only strict rules regarding punishment but also broader restrictions regarding the portrayal of crime.
Even though James Cagney’s Tom Powers doesn’t have a happy ending, the film provides a more nuanced portrayal of crime and punishment (especially during the prohibition/depression era) than we would see in later films.
Safe in Hell
Gilda, a sex worker from New Orleans, is accused of murdering the man who forced her into the industry and is banished to a remote island where there are no women (or at least no white women), where she becomes highly sought after by the island’s population of male criminals, and where there is no extradition treaty.
The premise sounds like it should be a screwball comedy, but what we get instead is a strikingly feminist tale of the endless ways in which some men will manipulate women for sexual power. There isn’t any sort of resolution or resolution at all, but the climax does show Gilda taking control of her tragic fate.
Frankenstein
Due to the Hays Code, which prohibited negative depictions of religion, Frankenstein had to be altered before subsequent rereleases following its massively successful debut in 1931. Until Dr. Frankenstein starts comparing himself to God, the shaky science business here might be tolerated.
Use of the word outside of a religious context was forbidden, as was blasphemy in general. Later censors did not approve of the monster drowning a child in a lake, even though he later felt bad about it, because the Code was less specific about cruelty to children.
I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang
The Hays Codes made it difficult to talk about social justice because they prohibited any positive portrayals of crime or anything resembling crime. Attendees may have been taken aback by the idea that not all illegal acts are immoral or that not all legal actions are just.
In this case, a veteran (Paul Muni) is falsely convicted and sentenced to a life of hard labor on the infamous (and brutal) chain gang, from which he eventually breaks free. The only way for him to keep eating is to steal.
A great example of what was lost in the rush to a “morality” that mostly only benefited the status quo, this film was based on the memoir of the veteran who lived it and was instrumental in launching penal reform in Georgia. However, Hollywood would never have been able to so starkly or openly criticize the American criminal justice system, and sympathetic portrayals of criminals were expressly forbidden.
Our Betters
Even though it was made before his more famous films, this early George Cukor effort has the same energy and excitement. Pearl, played by Constance Bennett, is a woman who, upon discovering her husband’s infidelity, has an affair with the wealthy Arthur and then, after stealing Pepi from her friend Minnie, with the unrepentant gigolo.
Even Pearl’s tango teacher, a “pansy” in the vernacular of the time, joins in on the romantic complications (even though her husband has nothing to do with them), providing both sound advice and comic relief as she comments on Minnie and Pearl’s final kiss-and-make-up. The lesson that Pearl learns is not to be a jerk to her friends and to always put misters before sisters; this has nothing to do with her adultery.
Design for Living
Filmmaker Ernst Lubitsch’s earliest troubles stars Fredric March, Gary Cooper, and Miriam Hopkins. Because Hopkins can’t make up her mind about her two male costars, the three of them decide to move in together, at first platonically (Three’s Company–style), but then they end up breaking that rule, which causes a major disruption.
In a twist that could have turned the film into a plea for couple-based monogamy, Hopkins marries another man; however, she quickly divorces her new husband, and the three protagonists conclude that they do belong together.
The Bitter Tea of General Yen
The title character, General Yen, is played by Swedish actor Nils Asther, while a Japanese actress and a Japanese-American actor play the other two lead roles. This Frank Capra film is ahead of its time in important ways, though: A missionary played by Barbara Stanwyck is rescued by a Chinese warlord in Shanghai; despite his initial harsh treatment of her, the two develop feelings for one another, leading to a tragic romantic climax.
Hays Act anti-miscegenation rules prohibited depictions of “sexual relationship between the white and black races,” so production companies avoided showing any interracial couples until the law was repealed in the late 1950s. This film’s simultaneous critique of American imperialism (religious and capitalist) would have prevented it from being made at a later date.
Queen Christina
In this film, the Swedish monarch is played by Greta Garbo, who plays her as a bisexual cross-dressing ruler in the vein of Queen Elizabeth I, but with more sex (in one scene, she likens the intensity of a passionate night to what God must have felt when he created the world).
Despite giving up everything for love, Garbo’s Christina does so on her terms, making this one of her best performances. Women in positions of power on screen wouldn’t be this strong for decades (maybe we’re still waiting for that long) and would rarely be depicted in a positive light for the bi community.
Female
The film’s title is a bit too direct, but other than that, it’s a good time at the movies about a driven auto executive who happens to be (gasp!) a woman. (No one is arguing that the ’30s were a golden age of progressivism.) Ruth Chatterton maintains her boss-girl energy by napping through her workday (not a good look, maybe, but certainly no worse than what the male factory heads were getting up to).
Until the slightly underwhelming final act, everything she does is an act, even when she changes her image to attract a guy with whom she is genuinely interested. Until then, it’s a blatant investigation of a woman’s sexual and business prowess.
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