12 million Americans are out of work. Trina is homeless and hungry when Bill takes her under his wing, showing her a squatter’s camp where she can live. She’s soon in love with him, making a castle for him inside a shack; but he’s bluff, gruff, and a “bindlestiff,” a guy who can’t stay put. When Trina tells Bill she’s pregnant, he’s ready to jump a freight train and move on, but first he wants to leave Trina with some money, so he partners up with Bragg, the camp’s louse (who’s been eyeing Trina), to rob a toy store. He’s shot and the cops are closing in: does he have any options? —IMDb
Frank Borzage (April 23, 1894 – June 19, 1962) was an Academy Award-winning American film director and actor famed for his mystical romanticism.
Borzage’s father, Luigi, was born in Roncone, Austria-Hungary in 1859. As a stone mason, he sometimes worked in Switzerland; he met his future wife, Maria Ruegg (1860, Ricken – 1947), in Zürich, where she worked in a silk factory. Luigi Borzaga immigrated to Hazleton, Pennsylvania in the early 1880s; he worked as a coal miner there and soon brought his Swiss fiancée with him.
The couple married in Hazleton in 1883, and had their first child, Henry, in Wyoming in 1885. They settled in the Mormon stronghold of Salt Lake City, Utah, where they gave birth to Frank, and remained until 1919. Altogether, the couple had fourteen children, eight of whom survived childhood: Henry (1885-1971), Mary, Bill (1892-1973), Frank, Daniel (1896-1975, a performer and member of the John Ford Stock Company), Lew (1898-1974), Dolly (1901) and Susan… read more
Unlike in that of Rohmer, for instance, love in Borzage's world doesn't exist with many contradictions or paradoxes. This is largely due to the fact that in his films it usually only transpires in its absolute, pure form, which may have seemed a tad naive to audiences even back then. But that's Borzage for you. And, as is especially the case in this remarkable film, he often shoots his lovers as if they were the last two people on earth—when Tracy and the ever-radiant Loretta Young are on-screen together, the backgrounds quite literally appear to recede (thanks in part of course to the soft-focus lensing and the liberal use of rear-projections). An emotionally intense yet lyrically poetic love story.
A look at the posters for “Hollywood’s Naughtiest, Bawdiest Year.”