Spencer Tracy_ A Biography - James C. Curtis [108]
He finished Young America on March 10, happy for the experience of having worked with Borzage, but aware the film would add nothing to his standing with audiences. The leads belonged to two young boys, Tommy Conlon and the director’s nephew Ray Borzage, and Tracy was left to play Kenyon’s irascible husband, a busy druggist with no time for the troubled boy his wife has taken into their home. Derived from an antique play, the script was stiff and artificial, nothing like the social commentary it aspired to be, and Tracy struggled to make an impression in what was essentially a supporting part. Giving his character an ever-present pipe and working it extravagantly, he engaged in some shameless fly-catching.
Within two weeks Wurtzel had him back at work in another supporting role, bolstering James Dunn and Peggy Shannon in the flop Broadway comedy Society Girl. Again he had little to work with, and again his performance smacked of gimmickry, all intensity and torn paper, the only member of the cast with any energy to show. A key confrontation between Tracy and Dunn took days to shoot—“ever since they can remember,” as one visitor to the set put it—and ended with the pudgy Dunn (who was contractually obligated to stay below 157 pounds) busting his third-billed costar in the nose. “I’m playing telephone repairmen or the hero’s best friend who always gets the Dumb Dora blonde,” Spence complained to Pat O’Brien.
About the same time, Sheehan was granted a two-month extension on his leave of absence. For the time being, the 1932–33 season would be entirely in Wurtzel’s hands. Details were necessarily skimpy, but when the program of features was announced, Tracy was top-lined in three: Rackety Rax, a football comedy with Greta Nissen and El Brendel; Shanghai Madness, an exotic adventure yarn; and an oft-threatened remake of What Price Glory? with Ralph Bellamy now in place of Warren Hymer. By the time he started After the Rain in early June, Tracy was plainly demoralized, supporting the unexceptional Peggy Shannon in an obvious knockoff of Sadie Thompson and not even making his first appearance until the middle of the third reel. After the read-through, Jack Blystone, who was directing, asked him what he thought of the script. “Great,” Tracy replied. “I get six days off.”
The release of Disorderly Conduct was the one bright spot in an otherwise dismal spring. Despite the happy ending Wurtzel had naturally chosen to go with, Dick Mook thought the role of Officer Fay to be Tracy’s finest screen portrayal. “It was the picture that sold me on Tracy,” he later said. “I immediately started a one-man campaign for him.” In its review, The Motion Picture Herald advised exhibitors that Tracy “should be played up strong for future B.O. strength,” and the film played to capacity audiences in Los Angeles, where it opened at Loew’s State with Raquel Torres and bandleader Eddie Peabody on the supporting bill.
Strong promotional support led to domestic rentals of $427,659, making Disorderly Conduct not only the most popular of all of Tracy’s pictures for Fox, but also the first since Up the River to actually show a profit. Tired of getting stuck almost exclusively in comedies, Tracy hoped the picture’s success would encourage Wurtzel to use him in more varied fare. “The last two parts I did in New York—Conflict and The Last Mile—were heavy dramas,” he told Mook by way of explanation. “Everything before that was comedy. I was brought