Here are more films I find addictive while acknowledging they are far from perfect. Most of these films earned average ratings in Leonard Maltin's (now defunct) Movie Guide and Scheuer's Movies on TV. But as film buffs discover, you should never let a rating of two or two and a half stars deter you from watching a vintage film. Films with worn-out stories can succeed on style, star power, and sometimes, sheer absurdity. For your consideration this month:

His Glorious Night (1929)

The famous train wreck of a romantic comedy about a princess (Catherine Dale Owen) and a cavalry officer (John Gilbert.)

Debits: Acres of expository dialogue, a stiff Owen, and lots of gooey love talk. The Library of Congress print does not have Gilbert saying, 'I love you, I love you, I love you,' but he does say something like, 'Why won't you believe that I love you when I keep telling you that I love you?'

Why you should see it (if you can): For its incredibly antique style. It is like every awkward early talkie rolled into one. It's exhibit A. Watch it for the glassy look in Gilbert's eyes as he pours out his love dialogue. For character actress Nance O'Neil as Owen's gabby mother, earning legitimate laughs with today's audience. This film has a fascination for all buffs of early sound. It should be released on DVD.

Son of the Gods (1930)

Snooty Allana (Constance Bennett) rejects Sam (Richard Barthelmess) when he tells her he's Chinese.

Debits: Forget that Barthelmess played a Chinese shopkeeper in Broken Blossoms. Here he looks like a Caucasian Harvard man, yet girls shriek and rage at 'the Chinaman' when his buddies set him up on dates. This is beyond ridiculous, it's delirious. The story would make as much sense if Bennett was shown to be an Eskimo. Film makes a plea for tolerance, but seems to exist in an alternate universe.

Why you should see it: For its bizarre take on race discrimination. This was an era of plays and movies about 'half-castes,' usually with tragic endings. See it for the outlandish whipping scene, and the bewildering scene immediately following. See it for the plot twist upending the story, the characters, and the theme. Pictures like this show us that 1930 was really a long time ago. This would make a perfect double bill with Helen Hayes' foray into Oriental characterization, The Son-Daughter (1932.)

Four Frightened People (1934)

A scientist (Herbert Marshall), a schoolteacher (Claudette Colbert), a society matron (Mary Boland), and a reporter (William Gargan) are lost in the Malayan jungle.

Debits: Cecil B. DeMille directed this comic adventure, but he didn't quite get the mixture right. It's not zany enough to work as a fantasy, and not gritty enough to build suspense.

Why you should see it: The two female leads are a delight. This is Colbert at her peak, in the same year she made It Happened One Night, Cleopatra, and Imitation of Life. The jungle experience transforms her from a timid spinster with pinned-back hair and spectacles to a ravishing woman of the tropics in a dress made of reeds and a lotus blossom in her hair.

Mary Boland fans are treated to scenes of her stumbling through a swamp in her evening gown, clutching her shih tzu to her bosom. Toward the end of the film, after tribesmen have taken her hostage, there are wild scenes of Boland in a muumuu, bossing her captors and lecturing them on their prolific birth rate.

There is not a lifelike moment in the film, and audiences in 1934 did not know what to make of it. The picture flopped. The key to watching it today is refining one's expectations. The script is too artificial to deliver compelling thrills or romance. But if you want to hear Mary Boland deliver the line, 'How do you say 'condensed milk' in Malay?' this film is for you.


The Great Lie (1941)

An aviator (George Brent) is lost and presumed dead. In his absence, his ex-wife (Mary Astor) gives birth to his baby, and his second wife (Bette Davis) adopts the child as her own.

Debits: This is preposterous melodrama built on coincidences and character motivations that are hard to accept. Note especially Brent's blase reaction, late in the film, at the prospect of losing Baby Pete to wife number one.

Why you should see it: Astor and Davis dig into this diva fest for all they're worth. Astor's Sandra is her Oscar-winning role, and she's irresistible. Chic, egotistical Sandra is a concert pianist, and she pounces on the keys like a hawk striking prey.

The best sequence has Maggie (Davis) taking Sandra to a deserted cabin to wait out her pregnancy so Maggie can claim the baby is hers. The women's resentments build, and Astor gets a terrific tantrum scene. Maggie's rules for the expectant mother are alarming. Ham, onions, and pickles are banned, but when Sandra admits to smoking 18 cigarettes since morning, Maggie lets her smoke a 19th.

Tony Gaudio's photography is gorgeous. This is Warners' black and white photography at its best, and every frame is a visual treat. Fans who notice Hollywood coiffure will love this film. Astor's hair is cut in a severe chignon emphasizing her character's tense, self-absorbed nature. Davis gets a fetching pageboy -- notice how she flips it with a spirited nod in her final shot. The Great Lie is a great slice of cake. Don't resist it.

Saratoga Trunk (1945)

In postbellum New Orleans, Clio (Ingrid Bergman) sets out to land a rich husband, under the amused gaze of Clint Maroon (Gary Cooper.)

Debits: This is overblown magnolia blossom fiction from an Edna Ferber novel. The focus stays on gold digger Clio for a run time of 135 minutes. There is little middle ground: you'll either love this or hate it.

Why you might like it: Ferber's story incorporates elements of Gone with the Wind, with everything off balance; this is Tara with a hangover. Clio has a maid, Angelique (Cooper calls her Mammy), played by Flora Robson in mulatto makeup. She has a factotum, Cupidon, played energetically by a little person (Jerry Austin.)

The two stars approach the material differently. Cooper is low-key, but Bergman decides there is one way to play Clio, and that is full blast, with every flounce and ruffle in motion. Early in the film she has a hysterical laughing scene. If you stay past that, this film is for you.

It is a busy film, with lots of attempted seductions and much discussion of paramours. In the end, the film is about garish style. Acting honors go to Florence Bates, who appears late in the film playing her specialty, the knowing older woman who watches love affairs and dissects the younger woman's technique. Bates out-schemes Clio in the film's wittiest scene. Saratoga Trunk is ripe to the point of fermented, but you may enjoy the energy with which its story is pushed.

Flamingo Road (1949)

A hoochie-coochie dancer (Joan Crawford) is persecuted by the political boss (Sydney Greenstreet) of a small Southern town.

Debits: The plot is nonsensical. I've seen the film many times over the years, and I'm still not clear on why Titus (Greenstreet) goes to such lengths to run Lane (Crawford) out of town.

Why you should see it: For Crawford. Almost a decade after the retirements of her old MGM stable mates Garbo and Shearer, Joan fearlessly appears as a carnival dancer with a bare midriff. In her scenes with love interest Zachary Scott, she gives a gutsy, confident performance, with none of the haughtiness that she falls into in other films. Crawford was a good roll in the late 40's, a recent Oscar winner whose studio (Warners) let her expand her range in a series of diverting and fairly expensive vehicles. She'd been in films for 24 years, and a star for 21, and was still playing romantic leads. What other actress could say that?

Not to be missed: the shot of a telephone bouncing off Crawford's head. That shot, in fact, is a perfect example of a guilty pleasure.