Classic Films in Focus: JULIA MISBEHAVES (1948)

Directed by Jack Conway, Julia Misbehaves (1948) is a charming, frothy romantic comedy that reunites the stars of Mrs. Miniver (1942) for a rather different look at the ups and downs of marriage. Greer Garson kicks up her heels as a bohemian performer long estranged, but not divorced, from husband Walter Pidgeon. The picture also features a host of familiar faces, including Elizabeth Taylor and Peter Lawford as a young pair with romantic issues of their own and great character actors like Cesar Romero, Nigel Bruce, Mary Boland, Reginald Owen, and Henry Stephenson. The cast alone makes the film worth seeing, but Garson and Pidgeon share a delightful chemistry that enriches their scenes together even when their characters are being most ridiculous.

Garson stars as Julia Packett, who long ago left her husband and infant daughter and returned to the stage to make her own way. Broke but persevering on pluck and a steady stream of schemes, Julia is surprised by an invitation to her daughter's wedding and decides to attend. Her mother-in-law (Lucile Watson) hopes to eject Julia from the nuptials, but husband William (Walter Pidgeon) quickly falls for her all over again, much to his mother's dismay. Meanwhile, daughter Susan (Elizabeth Taylor) is preparing to marry an unseen groom while fighting her attraction to the handsome young Ritchie (Peter Lawford).

Julia Misbehaves resolutely focuses on the comedic aspects of its material, but there's a lot of heartache lurking beneath the bubbly surface. Over the course of the picture we learn that Julia married William when she was only seventeen and he was a young soldier abroad. They had happy days together at first, but we get the distinct sense that their separation was orchestrated by William's mother, who disapproves of Julia and schemes to divide them once more by inviting Julia's acrobatic admirer, Fred (Cesar Romero), into the Packett family home. Several scenes touch on the longing Julia has felt to be reunited with Susan all these years, and the conversations between Julia and Mrs. Packett suggest that Julia was forbidden that contact. These details matter because we're supposed to like Julia and understand that she didn't just abandon her family for life on the stage; she was pushed out against her will when she was still very young. When she returns, Julia has become a force in her own right, no longer vulnerable to Mrs. Packett's intimidation.

The story, therefore, is essentially a comeback comedy, with Julia regaining the things she lost so many years ago. In order to survive and become a match for the scheming Mrs. Packett, Julia has learned to be quite a schemer herself. She wheels and deals to get the money she needs; we first see her in a bathtub threatening to commit suicide in order to induce her friend Benji (Reginald Owen) to pay off her debts. She later bamboozles an old gambler (Nigel Bruce) so that she can buy gifts for Susan. The men in the picture also resort to underhanded plots for good causes; William turns out to be just as crafty as his mother and his wife, especially as he works to rekindle the flame of his marriage, while Ritchie hatches plans to frighten Susan into his arms with some help from a friendly bear. Even sweet Susan turns out to have a few schemes up her sleeve at the story's close, much to the surprise of her parents. Everybody, it seems, has to be a trickster sometimes in order to make happy endings happen.

Julia Misbehaves is the final film directed by Jack Conway, who had started in the silent era and gone on to direct a number of Jean Harlow comedies, including Red-Headed Woman (1932), Libeled Lady (1936), and Saratoga (1937). Greer Garson and Walter Pidgeon star in eight movies together, with Julia Misbehaves as their fifth pairing and a rare foray into comedic territory. More typical of their collaborations are Mrs. Miniver (1942), Madame Curie (1943), and Mrs. Parkington (1944). For another film featuring both Peter Lawford and Elizabeth Taylor, see the 1949 adaptation of Little Women, or move on to Father of the Bride (1950) for more of young Liz in a wedding dress.


WHERE TO WATCH: Julia Misbehaves is currently streaming on Filmstruck.

Classic Films in Focus: THE BEAUTIFUL BLONDE FROM BASHFUL BEND (1949)

If you know much about writer and director Preston Sturges, you might well go into The Beautiful Blonde from Bashful Bend (1949) expecting too much. Sturges, after all, was the brilliant creative force behind smartly daring comedies like The Lady Eve (1941), Sullivan’s Travels (1941), and The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek (1944), but this Western musical comedy starring Betty Grable lacks the punch of those classic films. Despite that, The Beautiful Blonde from Bashful Bend is still amusing enough to be worth watching, especially because of a sprightly supporting cast and several instances of Sturges’ typically outrageous humor.

The story follows Freddie Jones (Grable), a feisty singer in a frontier saloon who gets into trouble when she accidentally shoots a judge in the rear end while aiming for her faithless lover, Blackie (Cesar Romero). Freddie and her pal, Conchita (Olga San Juan), hightail it out of Bashful Bend and impersonate a schoolteacher and her Native American maid in another town further down the railroad line, where Freddie entertains the advances of a wealthy local (Rudy Vallee). Trouble pursues the girls when Blackie discovers their hiding place and the resulting shenanigans cause a shootout in the town.

Grable is fetching as the trigger happy heroine, and her musical number early in the picture is fun, especially as her backup singers react to her plans to finish the song with a bang. Cesar Romero projects his customary charm as her roving paramour, and Rudy Vallee is reliably cast as the fussy golden boy. The romantic relationship between Freddie and Blackie sadly lacks development, and the joke about the judge’s posterior gets old by the end of the picture, but Sturges’ usual crew of character actors liven things up, and Sterling Holloway is hilariously weird as a crazy local youth. There’s also a great cameo appearance by Margaret Hamilton early in the movie. Upstaging all of these comedians is the simply delightful Olga San Juan as Freddie’s Mexican friend, Conchita. Whatever the other failings of the picture might be, her knowing, naughty performance makes the whole thing worthwhile.

Be sure to catch the strains of the old murder ballad, “Frankie and Johnny,” in the score whenever Freddie and Blackie get together. Look for more of Betty Grable in Down Argentine Way (1940), I Wake Up Screaming (1941), and How to Marry a Millionaire (1953). Best remembered today for his role as the Joker on the 1960s Batman series, Cesar Romero can also be found in Wee Willie Winkie (1937), Orchestra Wives (1942), and Vera Cruz (1954). Rudy Vallee plays similar characters in The Palm Beach Story (1942) and The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer (1947). Olga San Juan never became a star, but you can find her in a couple of comedies, including Blue Skies (1946), Variety Girl (1947), and One Touch of Venus (1948). Finally, ask the kids if they recognize the distinctive tones of that maniacal redheaded fellow; Sterling Holloway provided the voice for several memorable Disney characters, including the Cheshire Cat and Winnie the Pooh.

An earlier version of this review originally appeared on Examiner.com. The author retains all rights to this content.

Classic Films in Focus: TWO ON A GUILLOTINE (1965)

Although it’s billed primarily as a horror film, Two on a Guillotine (1965) throws in about as much romance and comedy as haunted house horror, which makes for an uneven picture that sometimes loses sight of its purpose and plot. Slow at times, especially in the second act, Two on a Guillotine is by no means a perfect or even a really good horror movie, but it’s watchable enough if you have patience with its digressions and some affection for its stars, including Connie Stevens and Dean Jones as a meet-cute couple and Cesar Romero as the mad magician whose demise sets the whole plot in motion.

Romero plays Duke Duquesne, a stage magician who leaves his daughter to be raised by relatives after the disappearance of his wife. The daughter, Cassie (Connie Stevens), grows up to be an exact double of her mother, and she returns to the family home after her father’s death. Duquesne, who has promised to return from the grave, leaves his entire fortune to Cassie provided that she spends a week in the house without losing her nerve. Cassie soon finds that the house is full of secrets, including many macabre practical jokes devised by her father, but she has stalwart company in the person of Val Henderson (Dean Jones), a young reporter who comes looking for a story but stays for the sake of the pretty heroine.

The opening sets the story up and creates a great sense of foreboding about the role of the titular guillotine, which Duquesne intends to use as the centerpiece of a new illusion recreating the execution of Marie Antoinette. Unfortunately, the movie then loses its momentum through the long funeral and will reading scenes, with Cassie and Val exchanging tart looks and lines that tell us they are destined to wind up together. Later, their date sequence once again disrupts the creepy effect of the house and brings the mystery screeching to a halt. Duquesne, being dead, disappears for most of the film, which is too bad because Romero could really work a character of this sort given half a chance. Cassie and Dean find plenty of Scooby Doo scares inside the house, especially at night, but the tension is repeatedly broken by practical reveals or the decidedly unscary appearance of a cute little bunny. Spend two seconds trying to make sense of the bunny’s presence and you won’t be able to think about anything else. Who feeds this rabbit? Is it leaving trails of bunny poop all over the place? How does it jump three feet straight up to get on top of tables and desks? The bunny even has his own theme music, which cuts into the score every time he shows up.

Only in the third act does the picture really get rolling, and it’s difficult to say much about that without spoiling the climax. Before the grand finale, however, we do get some fun haunted house moments, especially when the newly hired housekeeper (Connie Gilchrist) discovers one of Duquesne’s practical jokes. The best performance in the picture belongs to Virginia Gregg as Dolly Bast, the devoted nurse who once cared for baby Cassie and stayed on to look after Duquesne until his death. Gregg gets to take Dolly through a variety of moods, from grieving unrequited lover to wild-eyed harridan, and she keeps us guessing about her character’s motives right up to the end. If anyone in the movie realizes this is supposed to be horror, it’s definitely Gregg, and her scenes in the house are the scariest and most effective moments of the whole show.

Director William Conrad was primarily an actor, probably best remembered today for his leading role on the television series, Jake and the Fatman, but he also directed The Man from Galveston (1963) and My Blood Runs Cold (1965). You can see more of Connie Stevens in Rock-a-Bye Baby (1958), Susan Slade (1961), and Never Too Late (1965). Dean Jones is best known for his roles in Disney films like Blackbeard’s Ghost (1968), The Love Bug (1968), and The Shaggy D.A. (1976). Look for Cesar Romero in Wee Willie Winkie (1937), Week-End in Havana (1941), and Captain from Castile (1947). Virginia Gregg had 200 screen credits to her name when she died in 1986; she appeared in Love is a Many-Splendored Thing (1955), Operation Petticoat (1959), and The Hanging Tree (1959), but if you close your eyes you might also recognize her as the voice of Norma Bates in Psycho (1960).

Two on a Guillotine is currently available for streaming on Warner Archive Instant.

Classic Films in Focus: WEE WILLIE WINKIE (1937)

John Ford, best known as the director of masterful Westerns like Stagecoach (1939) and The Searchers (1956), seems an odd choice for a Shirley Temple feature, but the story that actually unfolds in Wee Willie Winkie (1937) plays on many of Ford's favorite themes. Darker and more mature than most of Temple's childhood movies, Wee Willie Winkie might not appeal to youngsters as much as some of her other films, but it makes worthwhile viewing for adult fans of either the director or the star.

Priscilla Williams (Temple) and her widowed mother, Joyce (June Lang), arrive in colonial India to live with Priscilla's grandfather, Colonel Williams (C. Aubrey Smith). Priscilla, nicknamed Private Winkie by the soldiers, befriends both the burly Sergeant MacDuff (Victor McLaglen) and the captured rebel leader, Khoda Khan (Cesar Romero), while her mother falls for a handsome lieutenant (Michael Whalen). A treacherous spy, however, helps Khoda Khan escape and puts Priscilla in the middle of a deadly confrontation between the British soldiers and the rebel troops.

The film's most important relationship is that developed between Priscilla and MacDuff, who proves far more paternal than any of the other men in the little girl's life. McLaglen gives his character tremendous appeal, and his death part way through the film highlights the adult nature of the story. If your children aren't ready for Bambi (1942), then they aren't ready for Wee Willie Winkie, either. Most Temple films build on a tragic backstory that is already in the heroine's past, but these offscreen events generally pass over the heads of young viewers without much observation. With the death of MacDuff, Ford brings the child protagonist's experience of loss right into the foreground, and, while it works beautifully, it left my resident junior film fan so traumatized that she almost refused to watch the rest of the picture.

The secondary plots fall short of this emotional power. The budding romance between Priscilla's mother and the lieutenant lacks heart, partly because Michael Whalen is awfully dull. It doesn't help that charismatic Cesar Romero is there as an unrealized alternative; a story in which Joyce fell in love with him might have been really interesting. Chinese actor Willie Fung makes an especially ridiculous and unpalatable traitor; he had appeared with Temple in Stowaway (1936), but nobody is going to believe he's Indian for a second, and his character seems to be something of a lunatic to boot.

John Ford directed Temple again in the 1948 film, Fort Apache, which makes a good follow-up to Wee Willie Winkie and also features Victor McLaglen. If colonial India proves appealing, see Gunga Din (1939), which also stars McLaglen as a British soldier, this time in company with Cary Grant and Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. You'll find Cesar Romero playing another Indian character in Temple's signature film, The Little Princess (1939). For more of Temple's most compelling early work, see Bright Eyes (1934), Captain January (1936), and Heidi (1937).

An earlier version of this review originally appeared on Examiner.com. The author retains all rights to this content.