Practically Yours (1944)

As I (finally) watched this, my only thought was "well, you wanted to see it".

I had high expectations, which were unlikely to be met, but at the very least I was expecting to enjoy it:  I love Claudette Colbert and like Fred MacMurray, the two leads, and I think Mitchell Leisen is one of the most underrated directors of the 1930s and 1940s. The three together produced an unusual 1940s comedy which I liked very much. So how could the follow-up be anything if not entertaining? From that opening line go, you can guess that I wasn't particularly impressed with the film. And not for the reasons that MacMurray mentioned somewhere (that they were too old, which is actually irrelevant for this story). No, the problem is that the premise isn't in the right tone and the plot is badly constructed.

The premise is that a pilot about to embark on a suicide mission says he'll miss Peggy the most in his farewell message. Except he didn't say Peggy (a former co-worker) but Piggy (his dog). This would have worked wonderfully in another context than a suicide mission during WWII and filmed straight (as it should). As he survives, the mistake needs to be upheld to the obvious conclusion. The problem is that we are expected to move from serious (and real) drama to light romance (and back again a few times). This is never an easy change in key and not Norman Krasna (the writer), not Leisen nor the actors manages to do so. And as the key keeps changing, we go from MacMurray's female pursuits to serious war concerns back to romance. You would need a better script, better motivated actors and more inspired director to do it.

If the wrong tone can be ascribed to everyone, Krasna is the sole responsible for the bad plot. Following a clear (and perhaps forced) three-act structure, implausibility sinks in when the two leads, allegedly in love, are never left alone for the whole of Act I. At this stage, the truth comes out and for the sake of war effort, they decide to continue with the deception. The plot is further contrived by the fact that they are "invited" to spend his two week leave in a house of a millionaire who decides he can meddle in other people's affairs and treating them as children (locking a door?!). By the end of Act II there has been way too much fuss about sleeping bags and other nonsense, but there was a decent, even amusing, Act III (with even a dig at twin beds).

The cast is painfully underused. Colbert's part is very one-dimensional, and her performance lacks any spark, only allowing some rather welcome mischief in the last third. This was her last film for Paramount, and by golly, it shows it was an obligation. MacMurray is wrong for the part and probably lacked any interest to do something with it, as around this time he was showing he could actually act in Billy Wilder's "Double Indemnity". And there is a major problem in the architecture of 1940s romantic comedies. The de facto lead was always the woman. A few exceptions apply, as usual. Here the female lead is reduced to a cardboard figure, and MacMurray carries the film through the first hour. Or rather doesn't. Ray Milland, who usually got the not so wholesome leading ladies' leading men parts at Paramount would have been a better choice. Because the part is less than wholesome for the first two acts, and at times could be a young Sheldrake, his part in Wilder's "The Apartment".

This is the weakest of all Leisen's films I have seen (although I stopped "The Lady is Willing" because I thought it was atrocious) and second weakest of the seven Colbert/MacMurray pairings. I am glad to have seen it - I would have been very frustrated otherwise - but not something I intend to do again.

Family Honeymoon (1948)

"Family Honeymoon" is the last pairing of Claudette Colbert and Fred MacMurray. And of the six I have seen (I am missing the elusive "Practically Yours"), it is the dullest and most uninspired. It is also the most reactionary, even if it starts off with a good premise. A widow with three children is to marry an academic. However, the kids babysitter (her spinster sister) breaks her leg and is unable to manage the kids who tag along on the honeymoon.

Up to the end of WWII, marriage meant the couple was finally allowed to have sex (e.g. Minnelli's "The Clock"). This meant that the film (and its leads) could, particularly in comedy, increase and escalate tension with the audience knowing that at the end there would be some release (yes, I know awful pun). Whereas here the children are the excuse to keep everything censor friendly. Colbert dexterously avoids any move from MacMurray; one scene has her giving a stern look, completely emasculating him: MacMurray is an an absent minded professor who is not will not be rewarded until he ascertains his masculinity over an over feminine Colbert, who seems to have failed to notice her children are unruly until she looses her man - the double implication that a) a woman can't raise children without a man and b) a woman needs a man to guide her to life. These are lazy post-war Hollywood stereotypes at their worst.

The plot is also full of preposterous incidents (a mother not paying attention to their kids at a train stop?!) and a predatory woman (Rita Johnson, failing to do what Gail Patrick could do so well) to keep the story moving to its 90th minute. This latter point is actually extraordinarily annoying, as it passes all possible suspension of disbelief, with Johnson's character too eager to disrupt the honeymoon. Although I must confess that the party sequence at the end was a slight improvement over the rest of the film.

Neither Colbert or MacMurray do more than the bare minimum and I would suggest that all they thought of was the pay check, and honestly I can't blame them. Hattie McDaniel has a small role, just a bit more than a cameo, and looks very ill in what was one of her last film roles. Only Lilian Bronson as Colbert's sister manages to make something interesting of what is an disappointing
farewell of one of my favourite actor pairings of old Hollywood.

No Time for Love (1943)

Mitchell Leisen's "No Time for Love", starring Claudette Colbert and Fred MacMurray is a slightly unusual romantic comedy of the 1940s. The key element that makes it different is its sexual politics, by how obviously it states that the attraction of its two leads is sexual, not romantic. This is highlighted by the fact that it is a socially unequal pairing (i.e. not a match of minds); he is a construction worker, she's a sophisticated photographer. This social inequality is a theme recurrent in Leisen's comedies of the early 40s, particularly "Take a Letter, Darling". Moreover, the audience's point of view (this being 1943 was expected to be mostly female) is Colbert's and Fred MacMurray is treated, from the first time we see him, as a sex object (shirtless and sweaty, see also his terrible portrait in a poster below).

In fact, the whole film works around this. Having seen him, and felt attracted to him, Colbert is unable to forget him (or stop lusting after him). When she inadvertently causes him to be suspended from his job; she offers him a temporary one, hoping (?) that spending time with him will cure her from her "problem". The film objectifies him as a masculine object of desire even further by pairing Colbert at the start with a man who isn't terribly different from her gay friends (something the film also doesn't shy from). And it is sexual jealousy they both feel, not a romantic one: she, when he has sex with the dancer; he, when feels less masculine than the model she's photographing.

(Slight spoilers ahead:) Perhaps feeling that all this was too overt, the characters' social differences are toned down slightly (turns out he's an engineer, not a worker - just doing the job of one for macguffin reasons), but by the time her most present (and hungry) gay friend joins them up, sex has resurfaced (their exit from scene and her last line should be enough). But, in difference to what would happen later in the decade, none conceded to the other. This is still a union of equals.

Both leads are great, Colbert exuding her usual charm and MacMurray giving one of his best comedic performances. It's also one of their best pairings. I also had a soft spot for Ilka Chase and Richard Haydn as Colbert's sister and aforementioned friend.

Claudette Colbert and Fred McMurray worked together in seven films. Six are available on DVD. The one missing is their second outing directed by Mitchell Leisen, "Practically Yours" which I would like very much to watch. Last screening I know of was in 2008, in Paris. But my bigger question is why was it missed from a boxset collecting some of their films?

The Apartment (1960)

“The Apartment” is perhaps the apex of Wilder’s career, and arguably the best moment of everyone else involved. Not that it all went downhill from there, at least not for me (I count myself among the fans of “One, Two, Three”, “Irma La Douce” and “The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes”). Having watched it again, and realising it hasn’t aged a bit, I am still in love with the film. I find it difficult to contain superlatives, so I am not even going to try.

A tale of modern urban life, where connections are becoming increasingly hard to establish, it focuses on a few characters around a New York big insurance company (an accountant, an elevator girl, and a few others).  It starts with a nod to King Vidor’s “The Crowd”, courtesy of set designer Alexander Trauner, and a narration of facts and figures, quickly establishing the dehumanisation of the workplace, just before we focus on CC Baxter, a slightly ambitious average Joe (played by Jack Lemmon). Nothing would distinguish him from the rest of the office except for two things: one, he is single (i.e. lives alone) and two, he rents a very well located apartment. Combined, these means it’s easy for he to loan his apartment to his philandering bosses.

Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond’s script is a masterclass in scriptwriting. It’s economical, character driven, true to character and funny and heartbreaking. An all-in-one example is the Christmas party sequence. In just a few shots, Lemmon’s character learns the about the mysterious identity of his boss’ lover. There’s no exposition, no big drama, just a few shots, a clue given earlier and you end with a character completely heartbroken yet unable to give away his feelings. Deservedly, it got them an Oscar for best original screenplay, which Wilder also complemented with a best director and best film – the last competitive Oscars he would get (he only got another nomination, for “The Fortune Cookie”’s script).

Of course it helps that his three lead actors (Shirley MacLaine, Jack Lemmon and Fred MacMurray) are absolutely astonishing. MacMurray plays slimmy, arrogant and self-assured with perfection: just look at the perfection of his twin scenes, with MacLaine and Lemmon, seducing one and the other (in different ways, with different goals), by telling one how much he loves her and that he will divorce his wife, and to the other, by playing macho and saying how MacLaine is just only another fling and he has no intention of divorcing his wife after all. One of the most reliable leading ladies’ leading men of the 1930s and 1940s, I always feel he was treated unfairly (e.g. not getting an Oscar nomination for this), something he contributed to by stating that only Wilder made him act. I disagree: not only was he always good fun in his Paramount years (well, at least as far as I have experienced) but in Sirk’s “There’s Always Tomorrow” he is as good as in here or in “Double Indemnity”.

Lemmon – Wilder’s Everyman – is also spot on. Funny and hurt, Full of joy and heartbroken. He handles with the same grace the Christmas sequence I mentioned above, and for instance, the spaghetti/tennis racked scene later on. Or his reaction to TV advertising – looking forward to an ever delayed showing of “Grand Hotel”.

But it is MacLaine that wins my heart. With her face alone she tells all the layers that Wilder doesn’t put into words – her barely hidden contempt when presented with the $100 bill; her confused apologies when she figures out that it’s Lemmon’s apartment; and in the final sequences, from the bar up to that brilliant line which ends the film (and Wilder and/or Diamond were so good at those) and leaves open most things to come. As for the Oscars, well, she put it best herself: "I thought I would win for The Apartment, but then Elizabeth Taylor had a tracheotomy".  

The supporting cast is also brilliant, particularly the quartet of executives who use the apartment, the doctor’s wife and the telephone girl. I am less convinced by the blond girl and the doctor – although he was the one secured a nomination for best supporting actor.

I think I also need to put a word here for two of my favourite technicians in the cinema ever: set designer Alexander Trauner and cinematographer Joseph LaShelle. Both had a long career. Both became Wilder regulars afterwards (particularly Trauner, with both working in “Irma La Douce” and “Kiss me Stupid”) although Trauner had previously designed the sets for “Witness for the Prossecution”. Both have a body of work that puts them at the height of their professions, and both got Oscar nominations for this. If Trauner’s amazing apartment got him a just reward (Lemmon’s apartment is one of the most realistic sets I have ever seen, from the TV to the Ella Fitzgerald LPs), LaShelle got passed over. In a perfect world they both would have won.

As Wilder put elsewhere, nobody’s perfect. And I have a couple of issues with the film. The neighbours’ reactions being one of them – how can they be completely oblivious to the fact that Lemmon isn’t really having all those women? Nosy as they are, they should have found that out long ago. Another is the timeline of events prior to the film: MacLaine only joined the company a few months before, but there is the hint in some of the dialogue that she’s been there for years. Surely there are plenty of hints on that front. But these little quibbles don’t distract from near perfection.

Stanwyck in noir III: Double Indemnity (1944)

"Double Indemnity" was Billy Wilder's third American film and perhaps his most ambitious project of the 1940s. It's among his best and has endured critical and public acclaim since its release. It was adapted by Wilder himself and Raymond Chandler (rather than Wilder's usual collaborator Charles Brackett who decided he didn't like the subject matter) from James M. Cain's novella of the same title. It is also one of key film noir titles, from before the term was coined.

It tells the tale of Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) insurance salesman, who involved sexually (more than romantically) with Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyck), is manipulated by her into murdering her husband so she claim an accident insurance on his death. Interestingly, I don't consider this a spoiler, as less than five minutes into the film we know that Neff has "killed a man for money - and a woman - and [he] didn't get the money and [he] didn't get the woman." The suspense comes from the "how did he end there", not from the ending itself. From the opening shot when you realise something is not quite right with Neff, to a car that doesn't start at a key point, all tension is very Hitchcockian - although I am not sure how much of an influence Hitchcock himself was, as this is still ahead of his great American films of the mid-1940s and 1950s. On the other hand, the film's voice over is decidedly not Hitchcockian and links very well to Wilder's own "Sunset Blvd." and anticipates a trademark feature of film noir.

The film is full of Wilder's touch - witty, quick dialogue; very close male relationships; and one of my favourites, pulling one on the censors. The film contains one of most obvious post-coital scenes produced under the Hays Code (MacMurray smoking, Stanwyck composing her lipstick). I have wondered how it passed, and the only thing I can think of is that the voice over reassures us that all they did was embrace (yeah, right...)

As Phyllis, Barbara Stanwyck gives the screen one of the most poisonous characters it has ever seen. She's absolutely ruthless and manipulative, using sex to get what she wants (Neff, and later on I suspect another character was also seduced). Stanwyck's ability to pull it off is uncanny - she's a cheap and yet desirable black widow who hardly ever shows any emotion. Look at her eyes. The moment MacMurray turns away they harden. It's one of two true emotions we ever get from her - contempt. The other is the almost smile during the amazing murder scene (happening off stage) when Wilder has his camera stuck on her stony face.

Fred MacMurray was an interesting casting decision. A seriously underrated actor, as he occasionally showed us, up to that point he had only been a leading ladies' leading man, supporting the likes of Carole Lombard, Claudette Colbert, Marlene Dietrich or even Stanwyck herself as required. Here Wilder gave him a character with few redeeming features that still charms the hell out of you. It's also one of MacMurray's best performances, along with "There's Always Tomorrow" (again with Stanwyck) and "The Apartment" (again with Wilder). He shines through the film - from his original lust (their first scene together is amazing), through the planning, till the final confrontation. Interestingly, Wilder would do a similar casting against type with Ray Milland, Paramount's other leading ladies' leading man, the following year which got him an Oscar.

The third character in this dark triangle is Edward G. Robinson's Keyes as Neff's office mentor and father figure who ends being the reason of their downfall. Robinson was undoubtably one of the most versatile actors at WB in the 1930s, a full leading man who was more of a character actor. Like MacMurray and Stanwyck he seems so at ease in his (almost supporting) part that you forget he's acting.

The film got seven Oscar nominations: best film, best director, best screenplay, best actress, best sound, best soundtrack (Miklós Rózsa) and John F. Seitz's highly influential cinematography (I think it's in Cameron Crowe's interview book with Wilder where he describes how Seitz would spread something to give that dust through venetian blinds look). It lost them all. Ingrid Bergman beat Stanwyck and Seitz lost to Joseph LaShelle's exquisite work in "Laura" ( who later became Wilder's collaborator). In one of those mysteries the Academy is so good at, "Going My Way" got all the important ones. And to add insult to injury, MacMurray, Robinson and the excellent art direction were completely ignored.

Too Many Husbands (1940)

When I found out that Jean Arthur, Melvyn Douglas and Fred MacMurray had worked in an adaptation of Somerset Maugham’s “Home and Beauty” (or in its American and film title “Too Many Husbands” - comments about the play can be found here) I was quite excited with the prospect of one day having the chance of seeing this. When Sony announced its two DVD sets of four screwball comedies each and it decided to include it, I was delighted. After all, hardly anyone knows who any of these three actors are, despite the fact that once upon a time they were extremely popular. (Still waiting for the other volume to arrive so I can watch “Theodora goes Wild” – more Melvyn Douglas, this time with Irene Dunne).

If you are bothered by spoilers, I would suggest you should stop reading here. For once, I intend to discuss plot into some detail, and wouldn’t like to spoil anyone’s pleasure.

The first thing that caught my attention was the changes in the plot line. When they said “based on” they should have said “loosely inspired by” – not that is a capital sin, it’s just doesn’t bare any resemblance to the play. Ok, it does in the following – a woman finds out that her dead first husband isn’t dead after all, and that she finds quite difficult to choose between old and new. The similarities end there. In the play, set at the end of WWI, Victoria is a truly unpleasant character and the husbands (both soldiers, who were friends before the war) find themselves trying to push her to the other. In the end, she divorces both, marries a rich man, and the two men probably live happily ever after (I don’t mean as a couple, but rather because they just got rid of that horrid woman). In the film, pushed forward to 1940, Vicky is quite a sweet girl, neglected by both husbands (one has a travelling bug, the other is married to the business) who now takes advantage of the situation to put herself centre stage. So does it work?

Well, yes and no – no, because it loses the well-built Maugham plot, as well as his razor sharp wit. No, because the script is never brilliant, the secretary was a pointless addition, Fred MacMurray isn’t as likeable as he should have been (I spent my time rooting for Melvyn Douglas). Yes, because it’s actually funny at times, because Melvyn Douglas and Harry Davenport are very good, and Jean Arthur pulls it most of the time. Yes, because you can never guess which one she is going to choose – i.e. there is no obvious ending, unlike “My Favourite Wife” (same year, very similar premise) where Gail Patrick just begs to be abandoned. Actually, the ending is quite astonishing by itself – despite the fact that her marriage to Melvyn Douglas being declared void (because MacMurray was alive), the film seems to suggest a ménage a trois – think Coward’s “Design for Living” but without the gay component. I was left wondering how it survived the Hays Office – adultery was not meant to be fun.

It’s not a masterpiece, but I am quite happy that films like this are still put on the market, despite the economic downturn, despite a slowdown in DVD sales and releases, despite a growing lack of interest for films not produced in the last 10 years. It made me laugh, and reminded me why I love comedies of the period so much.

Remember the Night (1940)

“Remember the Night” is a romantic comedy, and the first pairing of Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray. She’s a thief caught stealing a few days before Christmas. He’s the prosecutor who wants to put her jail and gets the trial to be adjourned till after the New Year. Only he gets guilty and ends up spending the whole Christmas period with her.

The film is simply delightful. It’s well directed, well acted, well paced. I’m surprised it’s not really as well known as other comedies of the period. I think it’s one of Preston Sturges best scripts along with “The Lady Eve” (1941) which he himself directed, also starring Barbara Stanwyck. In reality, her character in Leisen’s film is a first draft (but what a draft!) for her character in Sturges’ masterpiece. Fred MacMurray is at his best as a romantic leading man, and his chemistry with Stanwyck amazing. The same chemistry that both actors would take a step further that less than five years later, as the so sexy and so deadly protagonists in Billy Wilder’s “Double Indemnity”.

Mitchell Leisen, the director, is mostly remembered for allegedly been the reason Billy Wilder and Preston Sturges started directing – they didn’t appreciate his treatments of their scripts. Thankful as I am that both men turned into directors, it’s not a fair assessment. Wilder’s comments on him were always harsh, stating that he gave more importance to costumes and décor (Leisen was a former art director/set designer) than to substance (i.e. his script). For Wilder the last straw was during the filming of “Hold Back the Dawn” (1941); for Sturges, the previous year’s “Remember the Night”. Having seen both films, I think it’s more of a case of the victors rewriting history.

Leisen was a director who did very good stuff if the material (and the actors) he had to work with was good. And that shows in films like “Hands across the Table”, “Midnight” and “Hold Back the Dawn” (by the way, I don’t like “Easy Living”…). If the material was ok but not as good, he couldn’t improve much on it – for instance in “The Mating Season”. So yes, he wasn’t Wilder or Sturges, but he was far from a fool obsessed with decors. And there’s suddenly an interest in his work. There were some retrospectives in the 2007 Edinburgh Film Festival and last summer in the French Cinematheque. And little by little, his films are coming out on DVD – like “Remember the Night”.

On the DVD: At the moment this film is only part of an Italian 4 disc DVD box set “Cofanetto Mitchell Leisen” which includes this, “Midnight”, “Easy Living”, “Arise my Love”, “No Time for Love” and “Lady in the Dark” (there are 2 films in discs 2 and 3). The quality of all the films is quite good, with some restoration work done to them – except for “Lady in the Dark”. This is a faded Technicolor copy, with Italian subtitles burnt in, probably taken directly from an archive copy somewhere. It’s a pity – especially cause they could have included “Hold Back the Dawn” or “To Each his Own”.