Parachute Jumper: A Pre-Code Mess That Can't Decide What It Wants to Be

Is this worth a watch?

If you're the type who enjoys watching 1930s studio movies just to see how fast they can move from comedy to crime drama without blinking, then sure. If you need a script that actually tracks from start to finish? Probably skip it. It feels less like a movie and more like a series of ideas that were scribbled on a napkin during lunch.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Parachute Jumper (1933) through its definitive frames.

Douglas Fairbanks Jr. is doing his best to be charming while he’s broke, but the movie just refuses to let him settle into a rhythm. One minute he's living in a cramped apartment with his buddies, and the next he’s suddenly a high-stakes bodyguard. The transition is so fast you’ll get whiplash.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Parachute Jumper (1933) through its definitive frames.

The Bette Davis factor

Bette Davis is in this, obviously, which is the only reason I put it on in the first place. She’s got this stenographer gig that leads to nowhere, and honestly, her character feels like she wandered in from a completely different film. She’s trying to ground everything, but the movie keeps throwing gangsters and planes in her face.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Parachute Jumper (1933) through its definitive frames.

There is a scene where she’s just trying to do her job, and the way she looks at the camera—or just past it—says everything about how frantic this shoot must have been. It’s not her best work, but it’s interesting to see her before she became the legend everyone knows. She’s still figuring out how to play against these bizarre, half-baked plots.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Parachute Jumper (1933) through its definitive frames.

• The airplane sequences are shaky at best.
• The dialogue sounds like it was written by three different people who weren't allowed to talk to each other.
• Walter Brennan is lurking in the background, which is always a treat, even when the role is this thin.

I couldn't help but compare the frantic pacing to something like Shopworn, which also tries to juggle way too much at once. Both movies have that distinct 'let's just get this in the can' energy that you only really see in pre-code era stuff. It’s sloppy, but it’s got a weird, frantic pulse to it. ✈️

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Parachute Jumper (1933) through its definitive frames.

The whole bit about the narcotics on the plane feels like an afterthought. They just needed a reason to get to the action, so why not drugs? It doesn't matter, nobody mentions it again after the scene is over. Just move on, I guess.

Watching this reminds me of the pacing in Darwin Was Right—it's just a bunch of stuff happening until the credits roll. Don't look for logic. You won't find it here.