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: ON AN ISLAND WITH YOU (1948)

The buoyant charm of Esther Williams drives all of her musical comedies, but some work better than others, and On an Island with You (1948) mostly sinks rather than swims. Its plot, in which an obsessed fan demonstrates his passion for a movie star by kidnapping her, disturbs and confounds, especially since it's played off as romantic fun, with Peter Lawford as the relentless admirer who bribes his way into getting close to the object of his obsession. A vague, stagy Pacific Island setting does little to enhance the picture, although it showcases the figures of Williams and Cyd Charisse in skimpy sarongs. With all its flaws, On an Island with You is definitely not the first Esther Williams picture anyone should see, but it offers some modest compensations in the presence of suave Ricardo Montalban and a funny, sentimental performance by vaudeville veteran Jimmy Durante.

Williams plays Hollywood star Rosalind Reynolds, who is shooting a picture on location in the Pacific Islands with her costar and fiance, Ricardo Montez (Ricardo Montalban). When a young Navy lieutenant, Larry Kingslee (Peter Lawford), is brought on set as a consultant, he pursues Rosalind in spite of her refusal of him and her engagement to another man. Eventually, Larry makes off with Rosalind and carries her to a remote island, where the natives prevent their departure by stealing parts from their plane. The kidnapping throws the movie production into chaos, with assistant director Buckley (Jimmy Durante) torn between his desire to rescue Rosalind and his friendship with Larry. Meanwhile, Rosalind's costar, Yvonne (Cyd Charisse), pines for the attention of Ricardo, both onscreen and off.

Lawford's performance is not particularly compelling in a role that would be difficult to pull off for any actor, but the more serious problem with the movie is its reliance on a frankly sexist and creepy plot. The message here is that "no" might actually mean "yes" if the man just doesn't give up, even when his attentions cross the border from merely annoying to criminal. In a thriller or a horror movie this kind of plot can be very effective, but as a driver for romance it's wildly inappropriate. Williams' heroine collapses into a rapid case of Stockholm Syndrome, even lying to protect Larry from the consequences of his own inexcusable actions. In spite of some paternalistic posturing toward the end of the movie, Ricardo Montalban's character still seems preferable to Lawford's wooden stalker fan, and Montalban at least has some chemistry with Williams and a hefty dose of sex appeal.

The scenes with Montalban and Williams provide some relief from the awkward thrust of the narrative, and the swimming duets are particularly interesting, with the pair performing an aquatic courtship of synchronized strokes. Cyd Charisse has several energetic dance numbers that break up the action, and Xavier Cugat and his orchestra are also on hand to distract us from the dreadful plot with lively musical interludes. Cugat also has a running gag involving a tiny Chihuahua and Jimmy Durante, which is cute even though it has nothing to do with either the central story or the movie within the movie. Durante turns out to be the best thing about the picture; his character, Buckley, is both funny and sympathetic, a sadder and a wiser clown whose glory days are far behind him. His musical numbers hark back to vaudeville days, but he also gives the story its only sincere moments. He might not be as young and handsome as either of the leading men, but he's far more likable, even if he also lets Lawford's character get away with outrageously bad behavior.

Be sure to note young Kathryn Beaumont, the voice of Disney's Alice and Wendy, as the very British Penelope Peabody. For better outings with Esther Williams, see Bathing Beauty (1944), Neptune's Daughter (1949), and Dangerous When Wet (1953). Richard Thorpe, who directed On an Island with You, is best remembered for Ivanhoe (1952) and Jailhouse Rock (1957), but he also made silent Westerns in the 1920s and Tarzan serials in the 1930s and 40s. Peter Lawford is more fun to watch in Easter Parade (1948), while Ricardo Montalban flexes his noir muscles in Border Incident (1949). See more of Cyd Charisse in The Band Wagon (1953) and Brigadoon (1954), and catch Jimmy Durante spoofing Harpo Marx in The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942).

Classic Films in Focus: DEAD RINGER (1964)

Despite its gruesome title, Dead Ringer (1964) provides a sharp contrast to the better known hagsploitation movies Bette Davis made during the same period. In both Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962) and Hush... Hush, Sweet Charlotte (1964), Davis plays aging women well beyond the verge of a nervous breakdown, but in Dead Ringer the actress returns to more glamorous territory as a wealthy widow and the vengeful twin who assumes her identity. Between the two characters, Davis plays callous, resentful, homicidal, and deceptive, but neither Margaret nor Edith ever comes across as crazy. Paul Henreid, one of Davis' most important leading men from the old days, directs the action with an eye for its melodramatic sensibilities more than its thrills, while Davis' costars Karl Malden and Peter Lawford also emphasize the romantic angles as each of the twins' love interests. Thriller fans looking for high tension might find Dead Ringer a bit of a letdown, but Davis admirers will get twice the gratification from this story of thwarted love and deeply ironic justice.

Davis opens the film as Edith Phillips, a middle-aged spinster with a failing Los Angeles cocktail bar and a cop boyfriend, Jim (Karl Malden). When Edith attends the funeral of her brother-in-law, the lover her sister, Margaret, stole from her years ago, the twin sisters meet again for the first time in nearly two decades. Angry about the old betrayal and desperate to escape her bleak life, Edith murders Margaret, stages the body as her own suicide, and takes the rich sister's place in a lavish mansion. Unfortunately for Edith, Jim proves more dedicated to her memory than she expects, while Margaret's lover, Tony (Peter Lawford), has dangerous secrets of his own to protect.

We actually see very little of the real Margaret in the movie; a double stands in for Davis, conveniently wearing a mourning veil, in most of the early scenes, and Edith kills Margaret in the first act. When we do see both sisters in the same frame, the effects work looks convincing, and Davis does an excellent job acting opposite herself. She had played twins before, in the 1946 film, A Stolen Life, so she had experience with the trick of seeming to be two different people in the same shot, although the older film actually employs the technique more frequently and to more startling effect. Davis spends most of Dead Ringer playing Edith pretending to be Margaret, a challenging task made more difficult by the constant presence of servants, family members, friends, and, worst of all, Margaret's suspicious lover. Not having seen her sister in so many years, Edith naturally has no idea who Margaret's friends are or how to behave around them, and her suddenly cooled ardor toward Tony quickly tips him off that a changeling has taken Margaret's place. In the third act, however, Davis has some truly triumphant moments as Edith finally realizes the extent of Margaret's crimes and makes a fateful decision to protect the integrity of her old identity from the person she has become. There the picture plunges into the melodramatic territory that Davis knows so well, and her final moments as the bravely masquerading "Margaret" are quite as good as any of the climactic scenes she played in her younger days.

A strong supporting cast helps to elevate the material, as well, particularly Karl Malden as Edith's rather prosaic beau. Edith doesn't understand how much Jim cares about her until she has already gone too far to reclaim him, and Malden is especially good in the later acts, when Jim doggedly hangs around the DeLorca mansion because "Margaret" reminds him so much of Edith. Malden doesn't play Jim as a dope, but he has to be thick enough not to see through Edith's disguise. Peter Lawford, on the other hand, is every bit the wolf; his Tony is as sharp-eyed and callous and Jim is gullible and sentimental. Fifteen years younger than Davis, Lawford has the air of a gigolo, handsome but opportunistic and calculating. Since Margaret is only in the movie for the first act, Tony becomes the real villain of the piece, and he's marvelously awful, so much so that the viewer will cheer his much-deserved doom. Jean Hagen has a small role as Margaret's socialite friend, Dede, and Paul Henreid's daughter, Monika, plays Margaret's maid, but Estelle Winwood is the most memorable of the bit players as the elderly Dona Anna.

Davis' other pictures from the early 1960s include A Pocketful of Miracles (1961) and The Nanny (1965), but A Stolen Life makes an especially good double feature for a double dose of Davis twins. See Paul Henreid in front of the camera with Davis in Now, Voyager (1942) and Deception (1946); he is best remembered today for his performance in Casablanca (1942), but he directed a number of films and television series, including 28 episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents. Karl Malden won an Oscar for A Streetcar Named Desire (1951); catch more of him in On the Waterfront (1954), Baby Doll (1956), and Gypsy (1962). Peter Lawford also stars in Easter Parade (1948), Royal Wedding (1951), and Ocean's Eleven (1960). For more actors in dual roles, try Lady of the Night (1925), The Prisoner of Zenda (1937 or 1952), That Night in Rio (1941), and Cat Ballou (1965).

Classic Films in Focus: EASTER PARADE (1948)

This colorful MGM musical includes all the bonnets and fancy new outfits one might expect from a movie called Easter Parade, but the chief attraction of the 1948 film is the pairing of two of the genre’s biggest stars, Fred Astaire and Judy Garland, as a song and dance team trying to make it big in the Ziegfeld era. The Irving Berlin tunes and supporting performances from Ann Miller and Peter Lawford also make Easter Parade a memorable springtime confection, although like most sweets - and Fred Astaire musicals - it’s a little light on substance. If, however, you’re looking for an antidote to the heavy religious epics that often dominate the Easter movie lineup, then Easter Parade is a perfect choice, a light, bright romantic romp bursting with humor and style.

Astaire pays famous hoofer Don Hewes, whose Easter celebration is cut short when his partner, Nadine (Ann Miller), announces that she’s leaving for a solo career. Determined to win Nadine back by showing her that he doesn’t need her, Don sets out to make a successful partner of the next girl he meets, who happens to be novice dancer Hannah Brown (Judy Garland). Don’s friend, Johnny (Peter Lawford), promptly falls for Hannah, but Hannah pines for Don, while Don still harbors feelings for Nadine. As one Easter gives way to the next, the performers see their careers take off, but their romantic lives remain stalled, especially after a jealous Nadine makes a public play for Don’s attention.

Two very different partners give Fred Astaire a chance to change pace in the film’s dance numbers. Ann Miller is the more powerful and assertive dancer of the two leading ladies, but Judy Garland excels at light comedy bits like “We’re a Couple of Swells” and the Vaudeville montage sequence. As singers, Miller brings the sex appeal with “Shakin’ the Blues Away,” while Garland pulls out the pathos in her rendition of “Better Luck Next Time.” Astaire’s solo performances are also a lot of fun, especially the “Drum Crazy” piece in the toy store, where Don distracts a rival customer from a stuffed Easter bunny by dancing with a whole collection of brightly painted drums. Of course, the earworm of the lot is “Easter Parade,” which you might well end up crooning for days once you hear Garland sing it.

The plot serves mostly to string the musical segments together, which helps to explain why we get so little resolution about what happens with Nadine and Johnny at the end. Astaire’s character seems headed into Pygmalion territory early on, but he realizes his mistake and stops trying to make Hannah into another Nadine, so the only remaining tension depends on the characters’ misplaced affections. Ann Miller’s stage diva is the closest thing the story has to an antagonist, but it’s really very hard to dislike her when her performances are so delightful. Nadine is shallow, uses dogs as fashion accessories, and hopes that Don and Hannah will be a flop, but Hannah imagines Nadine as much more of a threat than she really is. The handsome, young Peter Lawford ought to give the much older Astaire more competition for the heroine’s attention, but as likable as he is Lawford lacks the charisma that makes a short, balding, middle-aged dancer one of Hollywood’s greatest stars.

Be sure to appreciate the screen debut of Jules Munshin as the hilarious headwaiter; he would go on to star with Gene Kelly in Take Me Out to the Ballgame (1949) and On the Town (1949). Director Charles Walters worked with Astaire again in The Barkleys of Broadway (1949) and also directed Garland in Summer Stock (1950). Although Easter Parade is the only true pairing of Fred Astaire and Judy Garland, you’ll find both of them in separate numbers in Ziegfeld Follies (1945). See more of Peter Lawford in Good News (1947), Little Women (1949), and Royal Wedding (1951), which also stars Fred Astaire.