Young Jeffrey Claiborne, the son of a wealthy father, comes to the aid of pretty Betty Jane Moir, who is being bothered by a lecherous chauffeur. He accepts Betty's grateful offer of employment in her mother's taxi company.
Jules Furthman
United States
If celluloid could blush, The Frame-Up would burn vermilion. William Russell’s gaze—half-smirk, half-sunrise—slides across the screen like a coin spinning on mahogany: you cannot tell which face will settle until the final wobble. Jules Furthman’s screenplay, sparer than a haiku yet richer than a banker’s cigar smoke...
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Comparing the cinematic DNA and archive impact of two defining moments in cult history.
Edward Sloman
Edward Sloman
Community
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" If celluloid could blush, The Frame-Up would burn vermilion. William Russell’s gaze—half-smirk, half-sunrise—slides across the screen like a coin spinning on mahogany: you cannot tell which face will settle until the final wobble. Jules Furthman’s screenplay, sparer than a haiku yet richer than a banker’s cigar smoke, wrings class anxiety until it drips pure adrenaline. The first reel drops us inside a mansion so cavernous echoes need maps. Jeffrey Claiborne lounges in silk sleeves that billo..."
