Xmas in Film: The Bishop's Wife

Films that feature characters who wear their religious beliefs on their sleeves (or in this film's case their collar), often fall into the dangerous territory of turning into overly sweetened tripe.  When angels are involved that tripe can become a diabetic coma inducing goo.  Shockingly though, The Bishop's Wife (1947) directed by Henry Koster, manages to sidestep that pitfall, in spite of starring a Bishop and the angel sent down from heaven to help him.  Mind you, it helps that the Bishop is played by the debonair David Niven, and the angel is played the equally suave and endlessly charming Cary Grant.  No Clarence Oddbody types for this movie.

It's Christmas time, and David Niven's Bishop Henry Brougham is trying to finalize the funding for the grand new cathedral that he and his congregation endeavour to build.  Unfortunately, all his efforts are at the expense of his relationship with his wife, Julia(played by Loretta Young).  The trouble is that our Bishop is so focused on the funding issues that he does not even realize the toll it is taking on his marriage.  After praying to god to send him help for his cathedral, Dudley the angel appears in his office claiming to be the answer to the Bishop's prayers. Everyone is charmed by Dudley and he soon inspires a wealthy old woman to donate her large fortune to the needy rather than to the cathedral; helps the community rediscover the old community church, and pretty much thwart all of the Bishop's, attempts to get the funding for his cathedral.  He also helps break Julia out of her sadness, further angering the Bishop.  Things get really sticky when Dudley realizes that he is deeply attracted to Julia. 

The Bishop's Wife is imbued with an incredible amount of wit and sophistication which acts as a safety net ensuring that the film never get too treacly.  When you have to lead actors who both perfectly embody the stereotype of the rarefied English gentleman playing against each other, there's not a lot of room for cheap sentimentality.  Representing the female side of the equation you have an actress like Loretta Young who brings a warm, down-to-earth honesty to Julia.  She is never a victim or a whiner, she puts on a brave face for her husband but her eyes give away the pain she feels at the increasing distance between she and her husband.  When she does start to experience happiness again, the feeling is so infectious that you can't help but smile.  The unusual triangle that springs up between the three never goes into crass territory, and feels original in spite of having a fairly obvious outcome.

Other than three great performances by three greats leads, this film features a wonderful supporting cast, beautiful black and white cinematography, and a merry dose of Christmas cheer.  Here's a most unusual trailer for the film.

Xmas in Film: The Shop Around the Corner

It's hard to believe, but I've actually gone through the first four days of December without talking about anything film related (non-animated, that is).  Well, that ends here as does my moratorium on talking about romantic comedies (I did say that holiday themed ones didn't count) as we look at the first Christmas movie of the season.  It stars a man who is ubiquitous with the Christmas season, starring in one of the greatest Christmas movies of all time- Mr. James Stewart.  But, we're not talking about It's a Wonderful Life today- that would be way too obvious.  Instead, I wanted to highlight Jimmy's role in another great Christmas movie, 1940's The Shop Around The Corner, directed by Ernst Lubitsch.

The plot of The Shop Around The Corner is a very familiar (it was remade twice, as 1949's In The Good Old Summertime and 1998's You've Got Mail).  Two shop clerks who can't stand each other turn out to be each other's secret pen pals, with whom they are in each love with.  Stewart plays Alfred Kralik, a clerk at Matuschek & Company, a Budapest leather goods store and Margaret Sullivan plays Klara Novak, his fellow clerk/nemesis who turns out to be the woman of his dreams.  To be honest, their relationship doesn't really do much for me.  I find Margaret Sullivan's character to be incredibly histrionic and there are times when Stewart's character can be downright mean.  That been said, there are a couple scenes between the two that really shine - the scene where Stewart's character discovers that Sullavan's is his pen pal and toys with her while she nervously waits for her "pen pal" and the scene at the very end when Sullavan finally realizes that Stewart is her pen pal and they finally get together.  These scenes help make up for the rest of the film's lacklustre interactions between the two.

Now that I've taken care of the main plot of the film, I can focus on the reason that I really love this film- the subplots and the characters who inhabit them.  Like any retail establishment, this film is populated with an assortment of characters that give the film its life.  From the wise-ass delivery boy Peppy, to the kindhearted yet timid family-man Pirovitch, to the sleazy dandy Vadas - they all have their little backstories.  The biggest one involves the big man himself Mr. Matuschek (played by The Wizard of Oz himself Frank Morgan) who incorrectly suspects that Kralik is having an affair with his wife.  Prior to his suspicions he and Kralik had a relationship similar to that of a father and son, and this has a major effect on Stewart's employment and causes Matuschek to make an attempt suicide.  Not to worry though, this is a comedy and all turns out well in the end with everyone getting what's coming to him.

Everything culminates on Christmas Eve with one of my favourite Christmas scenes in any film.  Mr. Matuschek, who has just been released from the hospital has just given everyone their Christmas bonuses after a very successful Christmas Eve, looks to his staff (his one true family) for someone to spend Christmas with now that his marriage is over.  One by one they all tell them of their plans with friends and loved ones.  It looks like he's destined to be alone when he learns of the new delivery boy's situation (his family don't live in town) and he generously offers to take him for a wonderful Christmas dinner.  It's an unusually touching moment that makes the film for me.  Here it is...

Classic Romantic Comedies Vol. 7: Sabrina

Since, my last post had a bit of an Audrey Hepburn flavour to it and December (and the blog's official Christmas season) looms upon the horizon, I figure now is as good a time as any to put up my final regular Classic Romantic Comedies post (at least in the foreseeable future, and not including certain holiday themed Romantic Comedies).   Many of Audrey Hepburn's films, especially those from her early career can be considered classic romantic comedies.  Audrey Hepburn is the prototypical manic pixie dream girl (if you're not familiar with the term it was originally coined by A.V. Club writer Nathan Rabin, here's a link to an A.V. Club Inventory of top films featuring manic pixie dream girls) and in these films she is pair up against a significantly older male lead and using her waif-ish charms teaches them to love life.  They also always fall in love with her during the process.  I could have picked from more than a couple of films from Ms. Hepburn's filmography, including Roman Holiday and Breakfast at Tiffany's, however for me there is one Hepburn film that surmounts both of those.  Incidentally, I think it is often overlooked in favour of those former two.  It is 1954's Sabrina, directed by Billy Wilder.

Sabrina, stars Audrey Hepburn, as the titular Sabrina, daughter of the impossibly rich Larrabee family's chauffeur.  Sabrina is in love with the Larrabee's younger playboy son David, played by William Holden,  but he doesn't know that she exists.  She contents herself by watching him from tree tops of the Larrabee estate during Larrabee parties as David romances other girls.  Sabrina's father sends her to Paris to learn to be a great chef, and hopefully get over David.  While in Paris she does learn to be a great cook, she also learns how to embrace life, gains a fashionable Givenchy wardrobe, and a sophisticated new haircut.  When she comes back home to America and the Larrabee estate, something wonderful happens.  David finally notices Sabrina.  In fact he is so taken with her that he invites her to the latest Larrabee party and starts wooing her.  This doesn't sit well with the rest of the Larrabee family, especially older brother Linus, played by Humphrey Bogart, whose latest business deal hinges on the marriage of David to the daughter of an important business associate.  He quickly neutralizes David via champagne glass injury, and sets about winning Sabrina's heart for himself in a cruel plan to trick her into going back to Paris.  What Linus doesn't account for is his own development of feelings for Sabrina.

Sabrina was adapted from the stage play, Sabrina Fair, by Billy Wilder.  Wilder imbues the script with the appropriate amount of cynicism balanced with witty dialogue and an appropriate amount of physical comedy.  It really plays up the upstairs downstairs quality of this story with the Larrabee servants championing Sabrina's relationship with David (with the exception of her father who is a staunch opponent of rising above one's station in life), and David and Linus' status obsessed parents (particularly their father who shares Sabrina's father's opinions).  The scenes between Linus, David, and their father are hilarious, especially when involving David's unfortunate injury and Larrabee senior's disgust with his sons and their entanglement with Sabrina.  Both Bogart and Holden do a fabulous job in their roles, Bogart being a particular surprise as old brother Linus.  While many think he was miscast in this role, I think he is appropriate as a man who has devoted his life and youth to business who is finally shaken out of his funk by this effervescent young woman.

As for the effervescent young woman, this is one film where Hepburn does not fall into twee territory.  She manages to play her girlish enthusiasm with a certain dignity that seemed to elude her in later roles.  She is utterly fascinating to watch and steals practically every scene that she is in.  This is a film that is a complete confection that doesn't leave your hands sticky.  I like to watch it on a dreary November night in anticipation of Christmas...

Here's the trailer...

Classic Romantic Comedies Vol. 6: Ball of Fire

Nineteen forty-one was a banner year for Ms. Barbara Stanwyck, and today we're exploring her second great comedy of the year.  This would be the film for which she earn her second of four Oscar nominations and her second staring opposite Gary Cooper that year.  Adding to it's pedigree is the that it features the directorial talents of the magnificent Howard Hawks and was co-written by a man who would go on to direct some of the greatest films (both comedies and dramas) of the classic era-the legendary Billy Wilder.  Unless you've completely ignored the title of this post that you've probably already guessed that it is indeed, Ball of Fire. 

Stanwyck stars as nightclub singer and gangster's moll Sugarpuss O'Shea, who finds herself on the run from the cops when they come looking to get her testimony against her man's (played by Dana Andrews) involvement in a murder.  She finds a safe haven in a house inhabited by eight professors who have cloistered themselves off from the world to write a great encyclopedia.  Like a more subversive version of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, seven of the professors are cute older gentlemen and the eighth is a nerdy version of prince charming, Bertram "Pottsy" Potts, played by Gary Cooper.   Sugarpuss pushes her way into the eight scientist's lives by promising to teach Potts, the grammar professor, all about slang.  Chaos reigns as the eight professors fall under Sugarpuss' spell.  Before long Pottsy is proposing marriage, but Sugarpuss' gangster beau looms in the background with his own proposal ( a wife can't testify against her husband, after all).  Who will the fair maiden choose?

Ball of Fire has an abundance of charm that comes not only from the leads, but the supporting cast who bring the film many of its great comedic moments.  Nowhere is this more felt than from the seven gentlemen who play the professors, who scuttle about getting into the sort of trouble you would imagine their cartoon Disney counterparts would had they been faced with the mob.  Cooper plays the bland studious Potts appropriately naive and befuddled while Stanwyck turns on her trademark charm and intelligence bringing yet another memorable performance to the screen.

This is an adorable gem that puts a delightfully screwy spin on an old favourite.  Here's a clip...

Classic Romantic Comedies Vol. 5: The Lady Eve

Today's instalment in our series on classic romantic comedies comes to the film that easily wins out over all classic Hollywood films as my absolute favourite of all time.  It features my favorite first lady of Hollywood, Barbara Stanwyck, co-stars her The Mad Miss Manton leading man Henry Fonda, and is directed by a man whose name is right up with Lubitch's as one of the great comedy writer/directors of the golden age of Hollywood, Mr. Preston Sturges.  Preston Sturges directed several comedies in the late thirties and early forties that have been hailed classics by critics and audience members alike, including his Hollywood satire Sullivan's Travels, his political satire The Great McGinty, and his divorce satire Palm Beach Story.  However, the film that is most commonly brought up in a discussion of the great films of Preston Sturges is 1941's The Lady Eve. 

The Lady Eve features Stanwyck as con-artist Jean Harrington, who with her card sharp father and their faithful assistant Gerald roam trans-continental cruise ships relieving wealthy travels of some of their riches.  On this particular cruise their mark is wealthy ale hair, Charles "Hopsy" Pike, an ophiologist who has been up the amazon for a year studying snakes.  Hopsy is as naive as they come and easily falls under Jean's spell.  What Jean doesn't account for, is her own development of feelings for Hopsy.  When he proposes she decides to reform and saves him from being another one of her father's victims.  Unfortunately, he discovers her former occupation and cruelly dumps her, devastating Jean and leaving her wanting revenge.  In a bold act of anger and defiance she takes on a new identity as The Lady Eve Sidwitch and walks right back into Hopsy's life and dares him to call her bluff.  Hijinks ensue.

What makes Sturges' style different from Lubitch, is that he embraces pratfalls wholeheartedly.  In some of his other films this is often to the film's detriment; however, in The Lady Eve, Sturges manages to balance the physical comedy with romance.  The biggest asset this film has going for it is the performance of Barbara Stanwyck.  As usual, Stanwyck's character is the smartest person in the room, but in addition to this she manages to imbue this character, who for all intensive purposes is an out-and-out predator, with a remarkable amount of sympathy and heart.  As she starts falling for Hopsy, we see her tough-as-nails/world-weary demeanor melt away and the result is quite touching, making the character of Jean so compelling.  Stanwyck is able to convey her surprise and joy at finding love with Hopsey with an all so subtle change in the cadence of her voice and a look that infects the viewer with warmth; making it easy to get on Jean's revenge bandwagon when Hopsy breaks her heart.  A lesser actress would not be able to handle such heavy lifting.  I also have to give a shout out to Henry Fonda, as the terminally clumsy and naive Hopsy, for falling over (and into) a barrage of pratfalls that would make Charlie Chaplin proud.  The supporting cast including Charles Coburn as Jean's father Colonel Harrington and William Demarest is similarly wonderful.

I honestly cannot say enough positive things about this phenomenal film.  If you only watch one of the films from this series, this one would get my vote.  To further sway you, I give you the scene that has been described by many as being one of the sexiest of all time...

Classic Romantic Comedies Vol 4: Ninotchka

Today we look at a film directed by a man synonymous with the great romantic comedies of yesteryear, Ernst Lubitsch.  Lubitsch brought a worldly sophistication to Hollywood comedies in an era when pratfall laden screwball comedies were the name of the game.  Wit and cynicism replaced a pie in the face  in the universe that exists in Lubitsch's films (although, there's still room for the odd pratfall if the set-up was intelligent enough).  Lubitsch was also known to comment on the state of the world and derive comedy from the politics of the time - in Ninotchka, released in 1939, communism is in his cross hairs.

As the film opens we are greeted by Paris and all the palatial aspects that make it the source of all too many romantic films and songs.  Three envoys from Russia arrive with the hope of selling the royal jewels of Grand Duchess Swanna, who fled Russia during the communist revolution.  Conveniently, the Grand Duchess now lives in Paris and soon learns of her chance to recapture her lost jewels.  She sends Leon (played by Melvyn Douglas), man-about-town (as well as her favourite boy-toy) to help recapture her jewels.  Leon goes to the hotel where the three envoys (who are completely inept and well on their way to being seduced into the life of luxury that the west has to offer) and stalls their efforts to sell the jewels by further luring them away from their communist values.

Time passes and the Russian begin to wonder what the delay is in the sale of the jewels.  They send a fourth envoy, Ninotchka (played by the legendary Greta Garbo) to help move things along in Paris and to retrieve the three failed envoys.  When Leon meets Ninotchka he is immediately fascinated by this cold, humourless Russian woman and starts insinuating himself into her life in Paris.  Though she is a tougher sell than her failed comrades, Ninotchka soon warms to Leon and western life, and her icy veneer starts melting away.  Surprise, surprise she and Leon fall in love, which complicates matters when the Grand Duchess gets wise to what's happening with her pet man, and wants to retrieve her jewels. 

As you would expect the outcome is happy (this is a Hollywood film, after all), however there are real stakes in this romantic comedy in which characters must make choices and sacrifices that aren't always pleasant.  The dialogue is wonderful and the screenwriters (including, the great Billy Wilder) sprinkle in some jabs at Stalin and the realities of life in the Russia for good measure, while never straying too far into the darkness of the nation during that era.  The film also culminates in a very touching spin on the fairy-tale motif of the prince rescuing the beautiful princess.  The outcome is a warm feelgood film that would put a smile on the face of the coldest Russian in the joint.

Here's the trailer if you're still not convinced...

Classic Romantic Comedies Vol. 3: The Mad Miss Manton

We travel, this time, two years later than our last entry into this series, all the way to 1938 for what will likely be the most obscure romantic comedy that I write about.  It features a duo who will definitely appear again, and a women who you will soon grow tired of me praising. 

Directed by Liegh Jason, The Mad Miss Manton, stars the great Brabara Stanwyck as wealthy (is there any other kind?) socialite Melsa Manton, who stumbles upon a corpse in an abandoned building one night while walking her dogs.  When she returns with the police the body is gone, and the cops and media brand it as another one of her (and her band of socialite friends') pranks of which the whole of Manhattan are intimately familiar with.  Reporter, Peter Ames, played by Henry Fonda, is particularly nasty in his apprasial of Miss Manton's trickster ways in a column that he writes for a local paper.  Concerned with solving the murder, saving her name, and sticking it to Peter Ames, Melsa and her band of friends go investigating.  What follows is a delightful 80 minute romp in which Melsa and her girls slowly uncover the identity of the body and the perpetrator, with Ames and the police nipping at their heels.

As you would expect, Ames quickly changes his tune about Melsa, deciding that there is something to her story and mounts his own investigation.  The two butt heads, and as you would expect end up together at the end, and it is their sparkling banter that really lifts this out of the realm of silly screwball comedy and into something more special.  The dialogue is sharp and delivered at a machine gun pace, and as is the case with the majority of comedies starring Barbara Stanwyck she is the smartest person in the room and easily lays Henry Fonda's character to waste.

It is interesting to note that Henry Fonda hated his role in this film, and resented being forced to star in it (a victim of Hollywood's studio system).  He is quoted as saying that he did his best to ignore everything that had to do with the film, including the director and his leading lady.  It is said that his relationship with Stanwyck on this film was very icy, which is surprising considering their considerable chemistry.  It comes as an even greater shock that they would work together on two more occasions, and that Fonda would later admit to a great fondness for Stanwyck that some say was more akin to love.  As mentioned previously, this will not be the last time we focus on this duo.

Here's the first few minutes of the film:

Classic Romantic Comedies Vol. 2: Swing Time

Today’s entry finds us looking at a film made just a year later than It Happened One Night, the subject of our first entry.  As I mentioned previously, musicals were very popular during the depression, and no team was more famous and celebrated for their dancing than Fred Astaire and Ginger Rodgers who made ten films together.  Of those films we are going to discuss my personal favorite, 1936's Swing Time, directed by George Stevens. 

Swing Time finds Astaire playing a professional hoofer, and ridiculously lucky gambler (appropriately named Lucky), who through a pants related incident arrives for his wedding to a high society bride unforgivably late.  In a plea for another chance he convinces his father-in-law to be that he can raise a fortune of $25,000, making Lucky worthy of a second chance with the old man's daughter (a pretty bizarre plot contrivance, but what can you do?).  With his faithful sidekick Pop in tow, he hops a train to New York to make his fortune.  Within minutes of arriving in the big city they run into Penny Carrol, played by the effervescent Ginger Rogers and immediately antagonizes her.  They follow her to the dance school she works at and promptly get Penny and her Aunt Mabel, the receptionist at the dance school, fired.  What follows is one of the most charming dance sequences you could find as Lucky shows Penny's (get it Lucky Penny?) boss everything she has "taught" him.  Dance school owner immediately hires her back and has the couple audition at the Silver Sandal nightclub. 

Penny's dislike for Lucky soon melts away into love, but the pesky specter of the fiancé he left back at home and a bandleader with eyes for Penny stand against the couple’s unification.  As you would expect everything turns out all right in the end.  The story wouldn't particularly win any awards, but the gorgeous music, winning cast, and fabulous dance sequences make this movie a charming watch.  While the comedy could be considered corny, I find it well meaning and incredibly enduring in its simplicity.  

There is one thing that I should warn anyone watching this film for the first time.  Fred Astaire does a musical number known as Bojangles of Harlem, where he unfortunately dresses as the legendary Bill "Bojangles" Robinson complete with black face. Though it is clear that the number is meant as a tribute to the great tap dancer, for those who offend easily it might be best to skip the scene.  To me it is an unfortunate time capsule of certain attitudes of the era, but you have to appreciate Astaire’s skill as a dancer and the amazing art design surrounding the number.

It is interesting to note that while the dance sequences appear seamless, Astaire and Rogers spent over 350 hours rehearsing for them.  The final Never Gonna Dance sequence took 47 takes to achieve one take that met with Astaire’s unbelievably high standards.  By the end of the grueling day, Ginger Roger’s feet bled.  If you’ve ever been curious about the films of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, this is a great introduction into their filmography.  It’s an easy watch that could charm the pants off the most cynical beast.