15 Best Films Of The 1930s

Just a few short years after the introduction of sound, 1930s cinema would explode with possibilities. Filmmakers creatively experimented with not just musicals, introducing song and dance to the big screen, but screwball comedies, which featured fast-paced, witty dialogue that title cards in silent film never would have been able to keep up with. As Hollywood experienced an early golden age, the world was plunged into an economic depression, which the movies would respond to with both social issue films as well as glittery escapism. Indeed, the films of this decade seem to fall largely into those categories: Movies that were made to shine a light on the problems that their audiences faced and those made to distract them. 

From horror to comedy, romance to war, the 1930s saw Hollywood diversifying and churning out films that catered to fans of different genres. With the studios operating like well-oiled machines (often at the cost of their stars' happiness and well-being), their biggest obstacle was making sure nothing they made would run afoul of the newly implemented Hays Production Code, which dictated what films could and could not show. A decade of contrasts, the turbulent 1930s produced some of the most interesting and creative films of the 20th century.

Do you remember the Brad Pitt movie "Meet Joe Black," in which he stars as Death himself, who decides to explore the world for a little while in a human body? It's actually a remake of "Death Takes a Holiday," a 1934 film starring Fredric March, who takes a break from escorting souls to their eternal rest to learn a bit about this whole humanity business. He poses as a foreign prince and, having been human for all of five minutes, he promptly falls in love with a beautiful young woman. 

Now that he has someone he cares about and by extension, something to lose, he understands a bit more why he and his veil of death are so feared. "Death Takes a Holiday" was a financial success for Paramount, and its philosophical musings seemed to have struck a chord with audiences — the studio reportedly received thousands of letters from fans who claimed that the film's depiction of death helped them come to terms with their own mortality.

By the time "City Lights" came out in 1931, Charlie Chaplin had been one of the biggest stars in Hollywood for over a decade, having transitioned from comedy shorts into feature-length films that he directed. "City Lights" is one of his better films and undeniably his most romantic. He takes the character of the Tramp and casts him as an unlikely romantic lead, falling in love with a blind flower girl (Virginia Cherrill) who mistakes him for a millionaire. 

Their relationship is allowed to blossom unhindered until she is given the chance to have an operation that will restore her sight and reveal his deception once and for all. Despite the raggedy outfit and ill-fitting shoes, Chaplin's Tramp usually seems comfortable in his skin, but in "City Lights," he is shaken by the knowledge that he isn't good enough for the woman he loves. It's this emotional note that makes the performance so emotionally affecting.

A film that feels somehow incredibly ahead of its time, "Ninotchka" is a clash of juxtapositions — capitalism and communism, utilitarianism and decadence, femininity and masculinity — cheekily bound together in a way that only director Ernst Lubitsch could pull off. Greta Garbo stars as Ninotchka, a stern-faced Soviet who travels to Paris to conduct a study on Western engineering. However, it isn't long before her strong communist ideals are shaken by both the relentless temptations of capitalist opulence and the appeal of a certain charming French count (Melvyn Douglas). 

The film portrays a gently satirical interpretation of Soviet Russia that still manages to capture an atmosphere of paranoia and intrigue in which neighbors turn in neighbors to the secret police. Garbo is at her best here, bringing humor and poignancy to Ninotchka's internal struggle with two incredibly distinct cultures. Despite any offense it may have caused Stalin and his cronies (it was, unsurprisingly, immediately banned in the U.S.S.R. and its satellites), it was a tremendous critical success and was nominated for four Academy Awards in 1940.

In 1938, Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant teamed up on two screwball comedies that went on to define the genre. The first was "Bringing Up Baby," which is arguably the more famous of the two, and the second is "Holiday," which is underrated but delightful in its own way. Grant stars as a self-made man who has worked his entire life and is determined to retire while he's still young and can enjoy himself. 

So what's the problem? His fiancee, Julia, to whom he has rather impulsively proposed after meeting her on vacation, expects him to take on a respectable position at her wealthy father's company. After meeting her family, it becomes clear that the woman with whom he has the most chemistry is not Julia but her sister Linda (Hepburn), the black sheep. They are a delight together and have such a joyful camaraderie on screen that it's easy to see why they would become one of the most memorable pairings of the 1930s.

When Tod Browning turned in his cut of "Freaks," a disturbing morality tale set against a backdrop of a carnival freak show, MGM didn't know what to make of it. The film stars a cast of real-life carnival show workers and tells the story of a trapeze artist who schemes to marry Hans (Harry Earles), a wealthy little person in the show, but when the community of "freaks" learn of her plans to steal from and humiliate him, they take their revenge on her — with grotesque consequences. 

When the film was released, it horrified audiences, even after Browning allegedly cut an alternate editing that was even more gruesome than what eventually made it into the final version. Art director Merrill Pye said of a test screening, "Halfway through the preview, a lot of people got up and ran out. They didn't walk out. They ran out." Despite this, "Freaks" has since gone on to develop a reputation as one of the most interesting films of the 1930s thanks to a surprisingly empathetic portrayal of its "freak" characters that showcases their strong sense of loyalty to their community and their ability to adapt to their disabilities and lead largely independent lives.

You've probably had a few bad days in your time, but we're willing to bet that you've never accidentally found yourself embroiled in an espionage plot, forced to flee London to evade both the police and foreign spies who want to kill you for the information you now have. Alas, that's the fate of Richard (Robert Donat) in "The 39 Steps." When a female spy is killed in his apartment, he is tasked with finishing her mission — all while being implicated in her murder. 

Not only is "The 39 Steps" one of Alfred Hitchcock's most effective thrillers (and that's saying something), but it also has a special place in the history of romantic cinema. To the best of our knowledge, it's one of the first on-screen examples of the trope in which an initially hostile couple is handcuffed to each other and forced to work together until they inevitably fall in love. Fast-paced, clever, and packed with twists and turns, "The 39 Steps" is a true gem of the era.

Starring Fredric March and Miriam Hopkins, "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" is one of the most interesting pre-Code horror films of the 1930s. March stars as the titular scientist, obsessed with the idea of splitting man into the two opposite sides of his nature: the good and the evil. One night, he drinks a potion that separates the two aspects of his personality. Dr. Jekyll remains the pure-of-heart, sexually repressed gentleman he's always been, and Mr. Hyde, a bestial, lascivious creature, roams the night in search of pleasures to soothe his id. 

The film serves as a commentary on the duality of man and makes the argument that suppressing the darker impulses of his nature only serves to make them that much more powerful. However, the most impressive component of "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" lies in its groundbreaking special effects. There's an incredible sequence in which Jekyll drinks the potion and, with the use of specific lighting and carefully applied makeup, his face morphs on-screen into that of Hyde. March would win an Academy Award for his performance in the film, making it the earliest horror movie to receive awards attention.