Classic Films in Focus: CASANOVA BROWN (1944)

What does a viewer expect going into a movie that features multiple marriages, a burning mansion, a kidnapped baby, and a clueless new father on a crash course in infant care? Hilarity seems like a reasonable answer, but that's not what we get with Casanova Brown (1944). While its plot summary sounds like truly outrageous material for a screwball comedy, the end result is quite tame, with far quieter performances than one might expect in a story about characters who take everything to extremes. It's not a terrible film, but it's by no means a great example of the genre, especially when compared to Gary Cooper's better known foray into screwball comedy in the hilarious Ball of Fire (1941). Here Cooper lacks the high energy of a proper screwball heroine to react to, even though he has dueling leading ladies in Teresa Wright and Anita Louise. In the end, Casanova Brown is a modestly amusing picture that offers an instructive example of what makes screwball tick by leaving out an essential component.

Cooper plays Casanova Brown, a domesticated descendant of that other Casanova who stumbles into marriage rather more often than he should. On the eve of his wedding to the cosmopolitan Madge (Anita Louise), Cass discovers that his short-lived union with Isabel (Teresa Wright) has produced a child, whom Isabel plans to put up for adoption. Enamored at first sight of his newborn daughter and horrified by the idea of her being given away, Cass kidnaps the baby from the hospital and attempts to care for her while holed up in a local hotel. Meanwhile, both Madge and Isabel are searching for him with their fathers in tow.

There's certainly plenty of chaos and reversal on hand to fuel a screwball comedy. Cooper's Casanova is no Italian adventurer, much less a predatory seducer, but he still ends up at the altar with three different women. He seems to have a preternatural ability to create crises, as he does when his hastily hidden cigarette reduces Isabel's family home to a smoldering ruin, thus provoking the argument that ends his brief marriage. His reaction to Isabel's plan for their baby is to impersonate a doctor, make off with the infant, and then enlist half the hotel staff in his obsessive baby nursing efforts. Whatever the situation, Casanova Brown always seems to make exactly the wrong choice at the worst possible moment, and most of the film's best scenes rely on that disastrous trait.

The problem lies with the development of the two female characters, neither of whom clicks with Cooper or inhabits her role convincingly. I love Teresa Wright in other films, especially Shadow of a Doubt (1943), but here she seems so painfully young as a love interest for Cooper, and she's far too wounded and pitiful to be a proper screwball heroine. Her Isabel is a sad victim of her parents' foolishness, her groom's stubbornness, and her own inability to stand up for herself. Madge, meanwhile, who ought to be a scheming socialite man eater of the first order, is never even remotely awful enough to warrant being left at the altar. Moreover, Anita Louise looks far more age appropriate as a mate for Cooper than Wright (who was actually in her mid-20s in 1944 but looks so much like a kid that even Casanova mentions it), and one has to wonder about a man who prefers a childlike bride over an actual adult. The only real case made against Madge is the constant harping of her father (Frank Morgan) about how controlling and tight-fisted the Ferris women are, and it's clear that his resentment stems from his own greedy desire to run through his wife's fortune at the utmost speed. Louise might have made a more villainous Madge if the script provided any fodder, but Wright is flatly out of place, even if the role hadn't been so weakly written. Screwball needs screwy women to shake up the social order and disrupt expectations, and when they aren't present the picture falls flat.

Aside from Ball of Fire, try iconic screwball comedies like My Man Godfrey (1936), Bringing Up Baby (1938), Midnight (1939), or The Lady Eve (1941) to see the fireworks when everything goes right. Sam Wood, who directed Casanova Brown, was on firmer ground with more melodramatic material like Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1939), Kitty Foyle (1940), and Kings Row (1942), each of which earned him an Oscar nomination for Best Director. Gary Cooper won Oscars for Sergeant York (1941) and High Noon (1952), while Teresa Wright won the Best Supporting Actress award for Mrs. Miniver (1942). You can see both of them, once again paired romantically, in The Pride of the Yankees (1942).

Classic Films in Focus: THE HALF-NAKED TRUTH (1932)

Lee Tracy was a popular star during the Pre-Code era; his fast talking banter made him a hit with audiences during the early days of sound, and he had a waggish quality that perfectly suited the looser moral attitude of the times. In The Half-Naked Truth (1932), Tracy plays the kind of role for which he was made, that of a scheming carnival barker whose ambitions are as boundless as his imagination. With Lupe Velez, Eugene Pallette, and Frank Morgan along for the ride, this corker of a comedy has plenty to offer fans of the Pre-Code period, and Gregory La Cava's direction keeps the action rolling from one ridiculous publicity stunt to the next. Slightly naughty, very silly, and bursting with Tracy's frenetic energy, The Half-Naked Truth aims only to entertain, but it succeeds admirably; it also makes a perfectly good introduction to Tracy and Velez for those who are new to the Pre-Code pantheon of stars.

Tracy plays Jimmy Bates, who starts out hawking the sideshow charms of hoochie coochie dancer Teresita (Lupe Velez) at a second-rate carnival. When one of Jimmy's schemes for publicity causes trouble, the pair head for the greener pastures of New York City with their pal, Achilles (Eugene Pallette), in tow. There they pass Teresita off as a Turkish princess until Jimmy manipulates a famous Broadway show director (Frank Morgan) into making Teresita one of his stars.

As the title suggests, the characters rely mostly on sex appeal and lies to get what they want. Lupe Velez shows quite a lot of skin in her skimpy harem costumes, and Tracy's protagonist couldn't tell the truth to save his own life. Neither one of them is a model of morality, but we like them in spite of that because they have a lot of spunk. Depression era Pre-Code characters need not be exemplars of righteousness to appeal to their audience; they just need to do whatever it takes to get by and have a little fun, and both Jimmy and Teresita embody that unsinkable can-do spirit. If one is a liar and the other a tart, well, who are we to judge?The movie encourages us to see Jimmy as a trickster in the same vein as Bugs Bunny; he's sometimes too smart for his own good, but he has his better nature, too, as the third act reveals. The cartoon sensibility of the picture might not be coincidental, since Gregory La Cava had started his career as a cartoonist.

The supporting players are probably more familiar to modern viewers than the stars, since Eugene Pallette and Frank Morgan both had memorable roles in later films. Pallette, who played the father of just about every leading lady in Hollywood at some point or other, is just as grumpy and rotund as we expect him to be; his character, Achilles, gets saddled with the stigma of being the Princess Exotica's castrated guard. Jimmy tells the staff at the Savoy, "You know, they have them in all Turkish harems. He's very sensitive about it." Poor Achilles doesn't even realize what Jimmy has done until the rumor undermines his romantic overtures toward a hotel maid. Jimmy also bamboozles and frustrates Frank Morgan's overwrought Merle Farrell, giving Morgan plenty of opportunities to bluster and react with his usual comic flair. Farrell is such a self-important big shot that we enjoy watching Jimmy outfox him, and the picture scene near the end really stands out.

For Gregory La Cava's best remembered work, see My Man Godfrey (1936), which features Eugene Pallette as Carole Lombard's father. Lee Tracy also stars in Blessed Event (1932), Dinner at Eight (1933), and Bombshell (1933). Lupe Velez starred in a series of Mexican Spitfire films beginning in 1940, but for more of her early roles see The Gaucho (1927), Where East is East (1929), and Kongo (1932). Frank Morgan is best known today as the bombastic Wizard (and several other characters) in The Wizard of Oz (1939), but he earned Oscar nominations for The Affairs of Cellini (1934) and Tortilla Flat (1942). Eugene Pallette, with more than 250 screen appearances, is everywhere in classic film. Look for him in The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), The Mark of Zorro (1940), and Heaven Can Wait (1943) for starters.

The Half-Naked Truth is currently available for streaming on Warner Archive Instant.

Classic Films in Focus: THE GREAT ZIEGFELD (1936)

Directed by Robert Z. Leonard, The Great Ziegfeld (1936) is a lavish musical tribute to the legendary Broadway producer, with all the whistles, bells, and gorgeous girls that Ziegfeld himself could want, even if it does takes certain liberties with the facts of Ziegfeld’s life. Hollywood had an ongoing fascination with the Ziegfeld legacy, as films like Ziegfeld Girl (1941) and Ziegfeld Follies (1945) attest, so it’s no surprise that a biopic about the showman’s ups and downs would appeal, and, indeed, the film won three Oscars in 1937, including Best Picture. Today, Oscar fans trying to see every Best Picture winner are probably the most likely viewers of this stylish but overly long production, along with William Powell devotees and those with a nostalgic interest in Ziegfeld himself.

Powell stars as the ambitious Florenz Ziegfeld, Jr., who rises from promoting a sideshow strongman to producing some of the biggest shows ever seen on the Broadway stage. He constantly steals acts and borrows money from his friendly rival, Jack Billings (Frank Morgan), including the lovely singer, Anna Held (Luise Rainer), who becomes Ziegfeld’s first wife. His enthusiasm for his lady performers brings disaster to the marriage even as the shows themselves become hits, and Anna, heartbroken, divorces Ziegfeld and then loses him for good to second wife, Billie Burke (Myrna Loy). Billie stands by her husband through successes and failures, but the arrival of the Great Depression proves too much for the weary, aging producer.

Ziegfeld had been dead for only four years when the picture came out, but Billie Burke was still very much alive and interested in preserving a certain version of her late husband’s story. Ironically, the greater part of the romantic plot involves Anna and not Billie, although Anna had been dead since 1918. As with most classic Hollywood biopics, this one simplifies, elides, or simply lies about various aspects of the story, but the tragic cast of Anna’s relationship with Ziegfeld is one of the movie’s strongest points, thanks primarily to the Oscar-winning performance of Luise Rainer, who invests her character with great pathos and a birdlike fragility. Myrna Loy, who gets second billing as Billie, doesn’t actually show up until two hours in, leaving her with little time to develop her role beyond a montage of Ziegfeld family moments.

In addition to Powell, Loy, and Rainer, star watchers will find plenty of familiar faces in the movie’s large cast. Fanny Brice and Ray Bolger play themselves as members of the stage company, with Brice performing a portion of her famous “My Man” number and doing a bit of her signature comedy schtick. Frank Morgan enjoys quite a good role as Billings, and of course he’s a natural for the part of a bombastic showman, here warming up for his iconic turn as the title swindler in The Wizard of Oz (1939). Virginia Bruce has some memorable scenes as drunken starlet Audrey Dane, and Nat Pendleton is fun as the muscle-flexing Sandow. Sharp-eyed viewers will catch William Demarest, Dennis Morgan, and Reginald Owen making appearances, along with a bevy of beauties playing Ziegfeld girls (see if you can spot Lynn Bari and future First Lady Pat Nixon). Both Eddie Cantor and Will Rogers are impersonated by other actors; Rogers had died in 1935, but the real Cantor was still alive and well, and he even starred in Strike Me Pink the same year The Great Ziegfeld appeared.

Including its three wins, The Great Ziegfeld earned a total of seven Oscar nominations. Robert Z. Leonard went on to direct Pride and Prejudice (1940), Ziegfeld Girl (1941), and In the Good Old Summertime (1949). Powell and Loy have more memorable pairings in The Thin Man (1934) and its many sequels, as well as in Libeled Lady (1936). Luise Rainer won a second Best Actress Oscar the next year for The Good Earth (1937); as of August 2013 she is still living and at the age of 103 is truly an amazing example of graceful longevity. See Frank Morgan, Ray Bolger, and the real Billie Burke all together in The Wizard of Oz (1939), and catch more of the delightful Fanny Brice in Be Yourself! (1930).

Classic Films in Focus: BOMBSHELL (1933)

Two of Jean Harlow’s film titles became permanently associated with her image; one is Platinum Blonde (1931) and the other is Bombshell (1933), a very Hollywood look at the life and trials of a fictional leading lady. Under the uncredited direction of Victor Fleming, Bombshell presents a comedic take on the hazards of stardom, with Harlow playing a role for which she already had plenty of personal experience. Although it’s a funny picture with a cast of memorable performers, Bombshell also suggests the darker side of Tinseltown fame, since Harlow’s harried movie queen finds that there’s really no exit from the gilded cage in which she resides.

Harlow plays Hollywood star Lola Burns, who is adored by her fans but beset by leeches and opportunists on every side. Lola’s fame and the studio’s overeager publicity head, Space Hanlon (Lee Tracy), conspire to make her love life impossible, while her nutty relatives thwart her desire for peace at home. Sick of her crazy life, Lola runs away, but neither the studio nor Lola’s family will let go of their meal ticket that easily.

Although she is remembered today primarily as a sex symbol, Harlow shows a natural gift for comedy, and she easily keeps up with her hammy costars. She throws several impressive fits throughout the picture, tossing her platinum curls and stamping her little foot to great effect. Lee Tracy and Frank Morgan give her plenty to fume about with their troublesome characters; Harlow’s screen presence is evident in her ability to keep such inveterate scene-stealers from walking off with her film. Una Merkel, however, has little to do as Lola’s secretary, which is a shame since she knows how to work a comic character just as well as any of her costars. Franchot Tone adds class as the latest man to enter Lola’s life, the well-heeled Gifford Middleton, with C. Aubrey Smith and Mary Forbes as his parents.

Bombshell is ostensibly a comedy, and it does offer some very funny scenes and performances, but there’s also something terribly sad about Lola’s situation. She ends the movie no better than she started, even though we long to see her throw off the mooching father, the opportunistic secretary, and the two-faced publicity man once and for all. She never has a meaningful relationship with another person, even though her desire to adopt a baby shows how much she longs for it. Her career is ultimately nothing more than a glamorous trap from which she cannot escape, even though we know that an actress’ fame lasts only as long as her looks and her youth. Harlow herself would die at the tragically young age of 26, right at the height of her popularity, but her three marriages and two divorces indicate that she must have known something of Lola’s struggle to find real love.

Look for Ted Healy, Pat O’Brien, and Louise Beavers in supporting roles. For more of Jean Harlow, see Platinum Blonde (1931), Wife vs. Secretary (1936), and Saratoga (1937). You’ll find Lee Tracy in Doctor X (1932) and Dinner at Eight (1933). Frank Morgan, best remembered as the Wizard in The Wizard of Oz (1939), also turns up in The Great Ziegfeld (1936), Dimples (1936), and The Shop Around the Corner (1940). Franchot Tone gets better leading man roles in Dancing Lady (1933) and opposite Harlow in The Girl from Missouri (1934). Victor Fleming, the uncredited director of some half dozen films in the 1930s, is best known for his work on Gone with the Wind (1939) and The Wizard of Oz (1939), but he also directed Captains Courageous (1937) and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1941).

Classic Films in Focus: SARATOGA (1937)

Although the story itself is a romantic comedy, Saratoga (1937) wears a shroud of sadness peculiar to those films unknowingly made by doomed stars. Jean Harlow, only 26 years old and already a huge Hollywood success, died just before shooting of the picture could be completed, and the studio finished the production and released the movie largely because of her fans’ fervent desire to see her final screen appearance. The loss of its leading lady undermines the movie’s ending, but until then Saratoga is a solid comic outing, featuring a classier role for Harlow and a cast of familiar players that includes Clark Gable, Lionel Barrymore, Walter Pidgeon, Una Merkel, and even Hattie McDaniel.

Harlow stars as Carol Clayton, a child of the horse track crowd who is moving up in the world thanks to her engagement to wealthy Hartley Madison (Walter Pidgeon). When her father dies and leaves the deed to the stud farm as a marker with his bookie, Duke (Clark Gable), Carol insists on buying Duke out before she gets married. Duke sees Carol’s fiancé as a rich target, but his better nature also inclines him to help the Clayton farm and Carol’s crusty old grandfather (Lionel Barrymore).

The early parts of the film are the best, with Harlow looking fabulously put together in a series of fashionable little hats. She and Gable have a sharp, snappy chemistry that marks all of their pictures together, but in Saratoga they clash constantly, and Harlow’s character has a prickly, contrary personality that is markedly different from the brassy, boisterous girls she often played. The problems in the third act caused by Harlow’s death are nobody’s fault, but one can’t help watching the film with a morbid eye for signs of Harlow’s illness or absence. Later scenes do seem to suggest her collapsing health, and the stand-in shots that were necessary to complete the film are glaringly obvious, with "Carol" seen only from the back and her face obscured by hats and other tricks.

Gable flashes his usual charming, roguish grins as the rival for Carol’s affections, and it’s clear from the start that his Duke is a lot more fun than Walter Pidgeon’s rich but rather wooden business tycoon. Gable also has some very good scenes with Lionel Barrymore and Gone with the Wind (1939) costar Hattie McDaniel, who makes the most of yet another domestic role. A crowd of other character actors also helps to keep the story rolling, with Una Merkel enjoying a fine part as Duke’s friend, Fritzi, and Frank Morgan mangling his lines amusingly as Fritzi’s jealous husband, Mr. Kiffmeyer. Look for Margaret Hamilton and her unmistakable nose in one scene with Frank Morgan that will entertain fans of their later film, The Wizard of Oz (1939). Keep an eye out, too, for George Zucco as the patronizing doctor who tries to calm a tightly wound Carol.

For earlier pictures with Harlow and Gable, try Red Dust (1932), China Seas (1935), and Wife Vs. Secretary (1936). Jack Conway, who directed Saratoga, also directed Harlow in Red-Headed Woman (1932), The Girl from Missouri (1934), and Libeled Lady (1936). See more of Walter Pidgeon in How Green Was My Valley (1941), Mrs. Miniver (1942), and Forbidden Planet (1956). Look for Una Merkel in several other Harlow films as well as 42nd Street (1933) and Destry Rides Again (1939). Prolific character actors Lionel Barrymore and Frank Morgan also turn up in additional Harlow pictures, but with more than 200 screen appearances for Barrymore and nearly 100 for Morgan, you’ll find both of them in plenty of classic films, often playing fatherly or grandfatherly roles to a variety of leading ladies, including Shirley Temple.