Is this the most violent crime film of the pre-Code era?  It takes an extreme Law ‘n’ Order position, one that downplays the need for Civil Rights while glamorizing brute vigilantism. Police chief Walter Huston takes the law into his own hands, while his detective brother Wallace Ford screws things up by getting all warm and fuzzy with the seductive gun moll Jean Harlow. As the old song goes, it all ends in gunsmoke and mincemeat — like, 45 cops and crooks dead in a pool of blood, man!  Nothing like it recurred in Hollywood until the mid-1960s.

The Beast of the City
Blu-ray
Warner Archive Collection
1932 / B&W / 1:37 Academy / 86 min. / Street Date September 30, 2025 / City Sentinels / Available at MovieZyng / 24.99
Starring: Walter Huston, Jean Harlow, Wallace Ford, Jean Hersholt, Dorothy Peterson, J. Carrol Naish, Mickey Rooney, Tully Marshall, John Miljan, Emmett Corrigan, Warner Richmond, Sandy Roth, J. Carrol Naish, Edward Brophy, Eddy Chandler, George Chandler, Robert Emmett O’Connor, Jack Pennick, Harry Wilson.
Cinematography: Norbert Brodine
Art Director: Cedric Gibbons
Costumes: Adrian
Film Editor: Anne Bauchens
Screenplay by John Lee Mahin story by W.R. Burnett
Produced by Hunt Stromberg
Directed by Charles Brabin

For a few weeks back in 1931, the big studios must have decided on a policy of ‘anything goes.’  Macabre horror and violent gangster sagas were filling depression-era theaters, so somebody decided to really push the limits of the already barely unenforced Production Code. Paramount’s  Island of Lost Souls tipped the scales for sacrilege and the taboo of vivisection; RKO indulged the savage sadism of  The Most Dangerous Game. Universal’s  Murders in the Rue Morgue billboarded sick torture and potential bestiality.

Over at the ‘quality’ studio MGM, Irving Thalberg and Louis B. Mayer got so caught up in extreme subject matter that they green-lit the politically extreme  Gabriel Over the White House and the borderline un-releaseable  Freaks. They also turned out an uncompromising pro-police crime picture. The object was to counter recent big gangster hits that glorified gangsters.

The censor backlash against the 1931 hits  Little Caesar  The Public Enemy and  Scarface led directly to  The Beast of the City, a reactionary view of crime from the police side of the equation. Its main character is a stalwart police chief played by the commanding, authoritative Walter Huston, who offers a moral antidote for popular gangster heroes. But it’s still a racy pre-Code movie, with the same content as the offending crime tales: booze, babes and racy, unrestrained dialogue. Source story writer W.R. Burnett contributed writing to all three gangster epics, which gives Beast of the City a feel of authenticity.

Burnett’s story doesn’t simply take the policeman’s point of view. The hard-boiled tale presents a major metropolitan city under the control of mob influences that prevent an honest cop from doing his job. America is so corrupted by crime that its only salvation is for men of strong morals to seize control by force. The film’s view is that the solution to the problem is vigilantism, in this case a secret group of ‘dedicated’ policemen. In the dark days of The Great Depression, it was common to see such radical — even Fascist — solutions endorsed in print.

No wonder then that the big city under siege is not identified by name. Yet one view gives us the Brooklyn Bridge, from the same iconic angle seen in Sergio Leone’s  Once Upon a Time in America.

A gang-vs-gang underworld slaughter sees a string of hoodlums hanged from the rafters in a seedy warehouse basement. The honest, upright police Captain Jim Fitzpatrick (Walter Huston of  The Furies) arrests slimy gang leader Sam Belmonte (Jean Hersholt) but is forced to release him immediately for lack of proof. Belmonte’s ‘fixers’ at City Hall see to it that Fitz is banished to a quiet suburb precinct where he won’t be a bother. His detective pals keep the Captain-in-exile informed on events back in the city’s center.

Fitzpatrick is hailed a hero when he captures two bank robbers, receiving a minor wound in a gun battle. After a citizen’s group initiates a shakeup in the police force, he finds himself the new Police Chief for the whole city. He’s finally empowered to advance his aggressive reform agenda. Fitz steers his department to make things tough for the city’s gangs, ignoring heckling from permissive politicians and doubting newsmen. His new Anti-Mob squad bypasses warrants and gives arrestees the Third Degree.

Fitz has a corruptible younger brother on the force, Ed (Wallace Ford of Freaks). Frustrated at not being given an immediate promotion, Ed lets himself be seduced by the high-maintenance gang moll Daisy Stevens (Jean Harlow). To get the money needed to keep her, Ed is soon advising Belmonte on ‘safe’ delivery routes for his bootlegging operation.

Everything goes bad when Ed is given the important job of guarding a money transfer. Spurred by Daisy’s come-on, he helps the mob with a heist. A policeman is killed, one of Fitz’s closest friends. Ed’s complicity is revealed. With both Fitzpatricks in disgrace and the reform campaign stopped cold, Belmonte celebrates with a big party. But Fitz and his loyal vigilante officers have other plans.

Of special note is the script’s reliance on snappy dialogue, ‘cop talk’ laced with colorful underworld jargon that’s coarse and direct. Constant references are made to ‘hopped up mugs’ doing crazy crimes. The racial attitude is summed up by the presence of two remarks saying “That’s mighty white of you guys.” Somebody even blurts out, “Son of a –.”  By contrast, none of the criminals’ speeches are particularly charismatic. But Jean Harlow’s gang dame can dish the low-life gab. She’s an erotic wonder, certainly worth a hitch in prison.

Exploitative thrills push the Production Code just as much as did the ‘glamorizing’ gangster pix. The aftermath of a mob rubout looks like something from a Nazi torture dungeon. In a car chase, a hoodlum’s stray bullet kills a child in the street. Daisy stages a shimmy dance for the poor deluded Ed: she just throws her arms up in the air and starts shakin’.  With that kind of bait we understand Ed’s situation 100%. The prospect of sleeping with Daisy cancels out considerations of the law, honor and family ties. Daisy likes Ed but she likes Belmonte’s money more. Her conniving is what precipitates the violent finale.

Beast of the City endorses the right of ‘good’ cops to give criminals hell, without reporting to anybody. Fitz believes in beating confessions out of people. Belmonte’s lawyer (Tully Mashall) encourages juries to believe that the cops are all corrupt, that the police are the guilty party. To give the ‘good cop’ an idyllic home life, Fitz is set up with a loving wife, silly daughters and a spunky son. He’s the young Mickey Rooney, a seasoned pro at age 11.  ↙

The established Irish families are good Americans, while the criminal vermin are all uncouth, first-generation immigrants. Jean Hersholt’s mob boss Belmonte may be of Italian or ethnic Jewish origin, it’s difficult to tell. Belmonte is all smiles and insinuations, so his swarthy 2nd-in-command compensates with a simmering hostility. He’s played by the superb character actor J. Carrol Naish. He’s been given the name ‘Pietro Cholo’ — as if the writers couldn’t decide whether they wanted to demean Italians or Mexicans.

The artwork behind the main titles is a caricature of a nasty Boogeyman, with facial features not all that different from the ‘Evil Jew’ stereotype of Nazi propaganda.  ↘

The direction of Charles Brabin (The Mask of Fu Manchu) hasn’t a lot of personality, but it keeps up with the actors well enough. MGM’s stunt directors stage some good chases on the streets of Culver City, and Norbert Brodine’s lighting finds more than a few expressive nighttime compositions.

Beast of the City takes a moral position not that much different from Dirty Harry, made forty years later: nobody appreciates the police, so the only answer is for good cops to take the law into their own hands. Well-meaning citizens’ committees are powerless when goons like Belmonte can buy off weaklings like Ed. What we don’t expect is the film’s near-apocalyptic conclusion. One might presume that MGM’s pro-police movie would want to offer a less violent antidote for the mayhem of Rico Bandello and Tony Camonte, but what happens is the exact opposite.

Beast of the City offers just as much sin and a lot more bloodshed than the Code-offending gangster films. The finale sets up an ‘everybody’s armed to the teeth’ showdown similar to that of The Wild Bunch.  It’s simplistic, but graphically effective. Chief Fitzpatrick, his loyal detectives and a repentant Ed storm Belmonte’s victory party and goad the gangsters into a point-blank gun battle. The bloodbath is so complete, we almost expect to see Sam Peckinpah’s vultures sitting on the ruined party decorations, drying their wings. Even better, why not have little Mickey Rooney, his eyes wide open like James Donald at the River Kwai, stumble into the aftermath mumbling, “Madness!  Madness!

Walter Huston could always be counted on to project absolute authority. His Chief Fitzpatrick is a rigid disciplinarian, eager to whip his troops into shape — the scene where his precinct captains smile in anticipation of his harsh reforms is a big boost for the honor of the police force. Just don’t compare it to the L.A.P.D. of 1932, whatever you do. Jean Harlow has a role similar to her hotsy-totsy gun moll in Public Enemy, with more scenes where she can wax seductive and move in her slinky way. She is given her share of slick dialogue too, and handles it quite well. Daisy never sits, she reclines, albeit with one foot on the floor. MGM was already dressing her in revealing garb more suited to a boudoir than for the general public. She comes off as a major attraction.

The Warner Archive Collection Blu-ray of The Beast of the City is a terrific remaster of this still-powerful thriller. The standard copies once viewable on TCM were in pretty sad shape, with images that were unstable, dirty and bleached out. The cameraman makes decent use of the film stock of the day, and the digital encoding leaves the original granularity intact. Scenes with rear-projection are pretty ragged — MGM’s process people sometimes had a funny idea of what looked real.

The new digital overhaul from original elements revives the film’s glossy look, which is immediately apparent in shots of Jean Harlow. The soundtrack is in better shape as well, letting us hear the excellent background chatter. They really let loose with the sarcasm. The music isn’t special, but the fade-out cue always seemed unintentionally funny. Over a close-up of dead policemen, the final audio is Brahms ‘Lullabye.’

The old DVD was plain-wrap; this Blu-ray has been given two vintage Harman & Ising cartoons. Goopy Gear is a musical review set in a club. The title dog plays the piano in between random gags, and inanimate objects that get in on the fun. Bosko and Bruno is a loose bunch of jokes with Bosko and his dog as hobos walking on a dangerous rail line.

As we might expect, MGM put out almost no images of Chief Fitzpatrick’s home life. We did find one picture of Mickey Rooney, but most were of the studio’s brand new sex symbol … and who are we to resist?

Reviewed by Glenn Erickson

The Beast of the City
Blu-ray rates:
Movie: Excellent
Video: Excellent
Sound: Excellent
Supplements:
Cartoons Goopy Geer, Bosko and Bruno.
Deaf and Hearing-impaired Friendly? YES; Subtitles: English (feature only)
Packaging: One Blu-ray in Keep case
Reviewed: October 21, 2025
(7403city)

Visit CineSavant’s Main Column Page
Glenn Erickson answers most reader mail: cinesavant@gmail.com

Text © Copyright 2025 Glenn Erickson