Mitchell Leisen

[vivahawks]

So over the last year I've been able to see a number of films by Leisen and, as there hasn't been much discussion about him here, I wanted to see what folks think of him. His reputation seems to be steadily growing, and he's clearly more than the sum of his screenwriters, though it's difficult to pinpoint the nature of his style or artistry.

At the risk of seeming willfully perverse, I find that Leisen's gifts remind me a bit of Raoul Walsh's: though the two obviously prefer different kinds of material, both seem interested by the connections between different genres and constantly play games with these conventions, leading to unique shifts in tone. Swing High, Swing Low is the most obvious example of this, ranging effortlessly between romantic comedy, Horatio Alger-type success story, and soap opera to arrive at a singularly ambiguous ending--almost the reverse trajectory of Walsh's The Strawberry Blonde. Similarly Hands Across the Table, Arise My Love, Remember the Night, and Hold Back the Dawn all juggle different moods and modes in strange and unexpected ways--in fact I can't think of many other directors as adept at revealing the thin line between comedy and drama and the way the two tend to feed off each other in screwball. With the exception of Hands, all these films (and Easy Living, probably the "straightest" Leisen I've seen as well as the most fall-down-laughing funny) are also concerned with how romantic love alters and brings together vastly different characters and fates. Leisen's faith that love can, even momentarily, hold back the dawn and stop different destinies in their tracks goes much beyond most Hollywood romanticism and seems his most personal theme, an idea supported by the rows over this issue that he had with Sturges and Brackett/Wilder about their scripts.

I still haven't seen Midnight, often proclaimed one of the masterpieces of screwball, and the only post-Sturges/Wilder films I've seen, Take a Letter Darling and Golden Earrings, are decidedly inferior in spite of the presence of the same genre-bending and romanticism of his best work. What little I've heard about his later work seems to suggest a fade in camp, which would be unfortunate since I think his sincerity is one of his primary strengths. Given his private life critics sometimes emphasize the gender bending of his work, though I think it's much less overt (in what I've seen at least) than in Cukor's films, for instance.

[rohmerin]

I've downloaded most of his films with Spanish subtitles and there's no doubt, Leisen is one of my favourite film directors. Arise my love is a forgotten masterpiece.

There's a gorgeous old book about Leisen. I own the Spanish cinemateque version.

[rollotomassi]

He's definitely an underrated master. Shocking his films aren't out on DVD, but they're all Paramount, and as we know, Universal don't like releasing Paramount's old stuff.

Midnight is his one masterpiece - at least I have an original VHS of it - but Arise My Love, Easy Living, Kitty and To Each His Own aren't far behind. Then there's Frenchman's Creek, Hold Back the Dawn and others. Not one of them on DVD.

They won't get released in a hurry, sadly. I suppose I'm just lucky to have them all on VHS.

[justeleblanc]

Has anyone asked Criterion whether or not they would release a collection of his comedies in an Eclipse set?

[jaredsap]

Has anyone asked Criterion whether or not they would release a collection of his comedies in an Eclipse set?

That'd be a wonderful set.

I think I once suggested REMEMBER THE NIGHT to Criterion. As appealing as an Eclipse release is, surely Criterion could put together a nice standalone package for at least one of Leisen's films.

[Matt]

Wow, I had no idea there was any respect for this guy let alone admiration. Billy Wilder always maintained that it was thanks to Leisen ruining his script for Midnight that he henceforth insisted on directing his own scripts. Midnight has a few laughs, but its appeal for me lies strictly in the charm of the performers and not in the skill of its director.

Remember the Night, despite its peerless cast and Sturges' contribution, is nigh on unwatchable. There's not a laugh to be found within miles of this film, and I believe Sturges had feelings similar to Wilder's after working on it. I guess you have to pay some kind of tribute to a guy who was so talentless as to inspire two great screenwriters never to let anyone else but themselves direct their scripts.

[souvenir]

Wow, I had no idea there was any respect for this guy let alone admiration. Billy Wilder always maintained that it was thanks to Leisen ruining his script for Midnight that he henceforth insisted on directing his own scripts. Midnight has a few laughs, but its appeal for me lies strictly in the charm of the performers and not in the skill of its director.

Remember the Night, despite its peerless cast and Sturges' contribution, is nigh on unwatchable. There's not a laugh to be found within miles of this film, and I believe Sturges had feelings similar to Wilder's after working on it. I guess you have to pay some kind of tribute to a guy who was so talentless as to inspire two great screenwriters never to let anyone else but themselves direct their scripts.

It was actually Hold Back the Dawn that pushed Wilder over the edge. There was a scene he wrote with Charles Brackett where Charles Boyer's character was alone in a hotel room and began talking to a cockroach. Boyer nixed the idea and Leisen supported him, leading to Wilder's vow to never let someone else touch one of his scripts.

I find Leisen a hack personally, an interior decorator whose best films had readymade scripts by Wilder/Brackett and Sturges, but I could be missing something. Very happy he was disagreeable enough to get Wilder and Struges to take full control of their work though.

[vivahawks]

His trasnition into the "weepie" or women's picture by 1940 seems inevitable given history, and even here the best movies show a distinctive and sometimes masterful body of work with fine actresses - Stanwyck in Remember the Night and Olivia de Havilland in To Each his Own, and - this an absolute masterpiece to my mind - Hold Back the Dawn with Boyer which seems to have inhertited the mantle of Stahl's skills in 30s melodrama but which takes the genre much further into a more ambivalent level.

David could you elaborate a bit more on what you mean about Hold Back the Dawn's development of melodrama? When I saw it I found the first two-thirds engaging and interesting, but the final portion felt extremely awkward; the movie seems to try for some sort of split ending with the framing device and curious closing shot, but it felt to me like no one knew how to resolve the story. On the other hand the movie has kept running through my mind since I saw it and I've actually often wondered if I've been missing something, which might be what you're talking about.

Remember the Night on the other hand is brilliant and probably my favorite Leisen of what I've seen. I think it's hilarious and flows effortlessly between harsh, concise moments like Stanwyck's meeting with her mother and the dreamy expansiveness of the hometown interlude. It's clear why Sturges would object to the ending, but overall the movie brings together much of what's best about both Sturges and Leisen.

[souvenir]

My dismissal of Leisen is harsh and possibly ill-informed, but I admitted as much (and I'll say my knowledge of him is limited). Wilder thought he paid more attention to the art direction than anything else and his background supports that.

It may be simplistic, but the brilliance I see in Leisen's films comes from what Wilder/Brackett and Sturges did with the scripts and nothing more. If there's more to Leisen then I haven't found it yet. When his two most famous screenwriters ventured out on their own, they both flourished and Leisen flopped all the way to television. So to classify Midnight, etc. as being "Leisen's" seems unfair and I'm missing where he established himself as an otherwise capable director outside of these scripts (in contrast to Hawks and Lubitsch).

[HerrSchreck]

Great posts, dave, especially your next to last.

I've always been of two minds about Wilder-- one one hand his giant balls saw him making films that seem to be written and directed by a giant raging snorting bull. As a director of delightfully risque and playful melodrama he's hit or miss for me. His films are always admittedly (in some large or supertiny degree) interesting but that's owing to the sharp eye for a good story and premeire casts. I rarely return to 75% of Wilder as cinema. I'd rather sit and think and eat leftovers than watch SOME LIKE IT or BUDDY BUDDY (except for the beautiful pair of polynesian tits at the end) or IRMA LA-D or the vast bulk of his romantic comedies. On the other hand I'd agree to starve for a few days to guarantee my home viewing copies of DOUBLE IND, ACE, SUNSET BLVD etc will not crap out before I croak this world.

But I can only sit and smirk when listening him in interviews going on about "no fancy schmancy shots" as though he had solved the problem of cinema finally and definitively and discovered "moving the camera breaks the spell," etc. As if he sat there all that time and was oblivious to, or--ach!--thought he was in a position of superity vis Sternberg Ophuls (and Wilders own German antecedants) --who else could he have been talking about?-- and could dissect the poor failures who failed to grasp the lessons he'd tweezed out by his films.

Wilder was DEEEEEEEPLY in love with himself/attention paid to himself, and his pronouncements about his comrades fore and aft must be taken with a grain of salt, particularly those about peers who practiced in the more pronounced exquisitries of the cinema... robust editing, glimmering surfaces, drifting camera in and out of smpathy with his characters and mise en scene, etc.

[David Ehrenstein]

What upset Wilder about Leisen was his willingness to cave in to the actor's demands. Claudette Colbert would say "This line sounds awkward. Couldn't I just say -- ?" and Leisen would agree. Couple this with the fact that he paid slavish attention to what she was wearing and you can see the smoke rising from Wilder's head. When he became a writer-director he was adamant about not changing a line. And he never cajoled performances out of his cast through flattery.

Still and all Leisen was brilliant and Midnight one of the greatest of all 30's comedies. The finale, in which all the cahracters get curtain calls remains unmatched until Those Who Love Me Can Take the Train in 1998.

Rex O'Malley, BTW, was with Andy Lawler and Billy Haines part of Cukor's inner circle of gay pals.

The definitive book about Leisen is by David Chirachetti.

[nycmagus]

A few thoughts about Leisen:

1. There was no decline after Sturges and Wilder became directors. NO MAN OF HER OWN, TO EACH HIS OWN, THE MATING SEASON, FRENCHMAN'S CREEK are all remarkable works of art. Leisen gave a different shape to Wilder's and Sturges' scripts than they would have, but Leisen's signature is most pleasurable.

2. I think Wilder's conflict over homosexuality was the source of his animosity toward Leisen. Look at THE FRONT PAGE to see just how virulent Wilder could be.

Also, Wilder never learned to use the camera as effectively as Leisen. Leisen sense of framing and movement within the frame was superb. Wilder was a word man to the end, and while his visual skills improved over time, he never achieved the grace of Leisen (AVANTI! is my favorite Wilder film in terms of visual accomplishment).

Sturges' visual abilities were enhanced when John F. Seitz began to photograph his films. Like Wilder, Sturges had a poor sense of space. His shots are attractive enough, but they do not possess the vibrancy of Leisen's. More than just decorating space, Leisen knew how to light it, place characters within it, and move them around in it. Of all the writers turned directors, the one with the greatest ability in terms of imagery was Mankiewicz.

[vivahawks]

Also, Wilder never learned to use the camera as effectively as Leisen. Leisen sense of framing and movement within the frame was superb. Wilder was a word man to the end, and while his visual skills improved over time, he never achieved the grace of Leisen

I'm not sure how far I'd say that. While Wilder took his time developing as a visual director (helped along by people like Seitz who shot Double Indemnity and Lost Weekend), by the mid-50s his films could be quite graceful visually (see Sabrina or Love in the Afternoon), and he made some of the best use of b&w Scope in the 60s for films like The Apartment, One Two Three, and The Fortune Cookie. With Sturges his instinct for organizing chaotic crowd scenes is there from the getgo in Great McGinty, Christmas in July, etc, and the eerie tracks and imaginative use of staging and single takes in the dream sequences of Unfaithfully Yours are as visually accomplished as anything in 40s comedy. Yes, both were helped immensely by the brilliant cinematographers etc that they worked with, but by the same token most of Leisen's best 30s and early 40s work was shot by Charles Lang and Ted Tatzlaff, a fact that doesn't take away from Leisen's visual sense.

I wanted to add that since I started this thread I've had the chance to see Midnight and have been wanting to rave about it ever since. It's one of those films where everything comes together perfectly--script, pacing, direction, acting, etc. In fact the dialogue seems so perfect and finely tuned that I wonder where and how much Leisen and the actors departed from Brackett & Wilder's original script; just about every word has been carefully chosen to construct the story and gags, "written" in the best sense. The second half, as Colbert effortlessly improvises her way over each new obstacle, is as exuberantly imaginative as anything in screwball. The spaces in Leisen's films often shift to accomodate the characters' interior lives, and the country estate in Midnight sometimes seems vast not just because it's a typical Paramount set but also because only its size can contain Colbert's imagination.

There's a terrific moment halfway through the film that sums up Leisen's greatness for me. After Ameche stalks out of Colbert's room at the mansion, the camera stays with him for a few moments, then cuts back to her, still in evening gown, lying on her bed. It's a simple shot, just her horizontal figure with dark dress spread around and bracketed by the white of the bed, but carefully composed as to become suddenly, breathtakingly abstract, like similar moments in Gilda or Last Year at Marienbad. Then we cut back to Ameche, sitting now with a slight smile on his face; the angle between their two figures, both conflicting and complementary, reminds me of Arthur and Milland lying opposite each other on the couch in Easy Living or, best of all, Lombard and MacMurray smoking on windowsills in Hands Across the Table. I think it's Leisen's ability to take these simple, perfunctory scenes and transform them into something secret and abstract that's the hallmark of his style.

[nycmagus]

I should start by saying that as a teenage cinephile Billy Wilder was the best of the best for me. My first love in movies was the writer/director and Wilder (along with Welles, Sturges and Mankiewicz) was the cream. In fact, I came to Leisen through the scripts of Wilder.

So starting from a position of loving films for their verbal and performance aspects (as well as a rudimentary appreciation of their visual components), I moved on to focus more and more on the visual. At some point, Mank replaced Wilder at the top of the heap (and no one was more surprised than I).

What I came to realize was that Mank created spaces that seemed to give rise to the words spoken by the characters in them. Somehow he had managed to connect the visual with the verbal in a unique way. He said that the three films he directed, but written by Philip Dunne (coming right after he made SOMEWHERE IN THE NIGHT) were undertaken so he could become more fluent with the camera. After serving what he referrd to as an apprenticeship, Mank resumed as a writer/director with A LETTER TO THREE WIVES and the rest is cinema history (and glory). What threw me off was that while many directors use space poetically, Mank uses it analytically. But once I keyed into his technique, it was amazing how nuanced his imagery revealed itself to be.

Back to Wilder: When I recently watched THE FORTUNE COOKIE, there was a scene in a hospital room with Jack Lemon in bed and Walter Matthau moving around. To the left was an expanse of blank white wall. What grated on me was the way Wilder did nothing with Matthau's mobility versus Lemon's (feigned) immobility and that damned blank wall. The shot was "attractive" enough, but I could not inhabit the presented space the way I can with Leisen or Mankiewicz spaces (for a superb visual handling of the contrast between mobility/immobility check out Margo and Addison in the lobby of the theatre in ALL ABOUT EVE).

Back to Leisen: MIDNIGHT is perfection, vivahawks. You have captured what Leisen does so well. His use of space works on two levels simultaneously: the narrative and the abstract. He can drape a human form on a set with the same grace that he can drape fabric on the human form. Throw in his command of lighting and (as Miss DuBois would say) you have made enchantment. Now treat yourself to THE MATING SEASON; TO EACH HIS OWN (DeHavilland owes at least half of her Oscar to Leisen for the way he lit her [which she has always admitted]); NO MAN OF HER OWN; and David's top pick SWING HIGH, SWING LOW.

[vivahawks]

What threw me off was that while many directors use space poetically, Mank uses it analytically. But once I keyed into his technique, it was amazing how nuanced his imagery revealed itself to be.

Thanks for your interesting points about Mank. Five Fingers and portions of Barefoot Contessa aside, I've never "gotten" his movies, and People Will Talk and Dragonwyck seemed undistinguished when I saw them recently. However I will try to look out for what you mean when I see The Quiet American, which should be sometime soon.

I don't remember the shot you talk about in Fortune Cookie, but part of what seems striking to me about Wilder's 60s comedies is how his sense of alienation and emptiness becomes more fully realized, no doubt because of the expansive Scope frames. This is most obvious in Apartment and One Two Three, especially the latter's Hotel Potemkin sequence, and also I think quite distinct from the different presentation of similar themes in European films of the time. Fortune Cookie as I remember it works more because of the script and actors, and I bunch it with the others because it seems part of Wilder's comprehensive survey of the major aspects of modern life; I sometimes think of his films in this period as lower-key counterparts to Preminger's concurrent and similarly ambitious "state of society" appraisals.

Oh yeah, Leisen: I have seen Swing High Swing Low, albeit years ago in an abysmal print, and even so it's magnificent. It and Walsh's Strawberry Blonde are always grouped together in my mind for some vaguely defensible reason. Anyways I will definitely keep an eye out for Leisen's latter work.

[vivahawks]

Viva Im sure youve seen plenty of Mank but possibly my favorite - for the delicacy and the relatively small scale nature of the drama, and the opening out into seaside and myth, is Ghost and Mrs Muir. It really is sublime. And Tierney! (Whom I really dont like although she's in dozens of movies I love.) Not to mention Rex (whom I loathe!! Normally.)

THIS is an quite a piece of work! And then some.

David, I remember enjoying that the one time I saw it for exactly the opening out towards myth you talk about, though it didn't distinguish itself enough in my mind from the other "walk with love and death"-type movies Hollywood and Britain churned out in the 40s (futile effort to stay on topic: Leisen's earlier Death Takes a Holiday is a passable entry in this genre). Maybe Mank suffers for me from doing his best (or at least most well-known work) right when Hollywood hits its absolute peak; when guys like Mann, Fuller, Ray, Minnelli, etc are throwing out stylistically flamboyant masterpieces nonstop, it can get harder to appreciate someone working in a more understated and supposedly "literary" vein.

[Scharphedin2]

Having just seen a number of Leisen's films in the past few months, this thread has been very interesting to follow, and I admire the level of insight and sophistication that several of you bring to your viewing of these films. In comparison, my approach to viewing films is probably rather naïve. I often wonder about those subtleties of direction that are mentioned above – to what extent does a director control the composition of the images in a film, and what level of thought goes into these compositions? Nycmagus' example of lack of meaningful use of screen space in a film like Fortune Cookie, and the examples of how Leisen invested his compositions with a very deep level of thought as to how these accentuate the relations of the characters within the frame certainly seem dead on on paper, but I still wonder, if these directors truly had that level of visual control of what they wished to express with each camera setup. I would love to read more on this, as these are questions I often ask myself when viewing films.

As someone, who also loves the films of both Wilder and Sturges, I immediately found a lot to enjoy in the films that Leisen directed from their scripts. Midnight is indeed a perfect film, although I did not catch the subtleties of musical and cinematic composition detailed above, and now already wish to go back and see the film again. To me, the film very clearly showed Wilder's hand, and I wonder if part of his resentment toward Leisen may have been simple professional envy? The same goes for Easy Living; a film that is as chock-full of laughs as any of the pictures Sturges directed himself, and keeps up the pace with the best of them. Then, having read Sturges' auto-biography (albeit a long time ago), I do recall that writing and directing was his ambition from the moment that he set foot in Hollywood, and that he would have deferred his salary to have the opportunity at any time, but I do not recall Sturges mentioning that his collaborations with Leisen in any explicit way precipitated his move into direction (or, do I remember wrong?)

The film that I probably felt the closest to of all of them was Remember the Night. I was surprised to read the comment that there is not a laugh within miles of the film, although I agree that most of the spontaneous laughs are in the first half, and that the film changes in the later stages, and draws its smiles from charm rather than comedy. In the first thirty minutes, however, we get the hilarious court proceedings with Stanwyck standing trial for theft, and her defence attorney pleading to the jury that the young lady was under hypnosis! A little later, there is the comedy that arises out of Stanwyck being delivered on MacMurray's doorstep by the rather unsavoury character, who handles her bond on behalf of MacMurray. Then, once we get on the road with Stanwyck and MacMurray to Indiana, there are plenty of laughs, as they get lost on the country roads at night, finally give up finding their way and go to sleep in the car, only to wake up in a field of cows. Seeing these two wonderful actors attempt to milk a cow had me in stitches, and then there is the subsequent scene, where a righteous farmer takes them to court for trespassing, destruction of property, and attempted theft (of the milk they were going to take from the cow).

However, the real beauty of this film does not lie in the comedy (to me), and I think the tone of the film does change significantly, once the couple arrives in Indiana. The visit to Stanwyck's mother's house is the turning point, as Leisen shows us the nightmare version of “home,â€

[vivahawks]

Right on about Remember the Night; it's so warm and generous, and Leisen & co invite you into the movie the way MacMurray's family welcome Stanwyck. Definitely my favorite Christmas movie.

[quote="Scharphedin2"]With respect to Sturges' feelings about the treatment of his script in this case, what exactly was his objections? Maybe he felt, like Matt above, that Leisen drained the humour out of it? However, in structure and tone, and as a “comedyâ€

[Gregory]

Hands Across the Table... I'm speechless. It feeds my addiction to know that a screwball comedy this great totally escaped my awareness for years (not that I think I know it all -- far from it).
This was really one of the most rewarding discoveries for me in quite some time. It probably doesn't quite reach the heights of Brining Up Baby, but it comes pretty damned close. I guess if it had followed the great Hawks film I wouldn't be so amazed, but it preceded it. It certainly seems to have helped form the mold for the genre. I mean, 1935! What could have influenced Hands Across the Table in its rich exploration of gender and of human interaction, and so much more? It Happened One Night was released a year and a half before it, but I'm not sure that really explains all that much (not to slight IHON too much).
It's interesting to think about how Hawks might have executed this material, but I quickly developed some respect for Leisen here. My other experiences of his film, few as they are, have been fairly disappointing before this. I'm still not exactly sure how much of the greatness of the film was in the direction, though -- need to see it a couple more times.
It's tempting to try and dash out what I think makes this one so interesting, but I won't even try at the moment.
EDIT: Excellent news -- quelle coincidence! (And I look forward to any reply that's forthcoming.)

[Gregory]

For me anyway, the criteria for a screwball comedy would include: fast dialogue rich in irony and satire, highly improbably plot development involving characters (often idle rich) who are at odds with the conventions and priorities of the world in which they find themselves. The class element on which It Happened One Night is based is an example of such a convention. I would argue that the most important criterion for a great screwball comedy is that it has to investigate and even subvert gender norms and social ideas surrounding the couple (or the family but this is rarer). In Hands Across, Lombard and McMurray form their relationship initially on the basis of Lombard's plans to snare him, but when they actually get together, they form a different basis for relating to one another. They're kindred spirits as "heels." Unlike a sex comedy which has an interest in trying to preserve the romantic couple in spite of infidelities, misunderstandings, or other conflicts, the screwball comedy will often toss out the traditional couple and try to experiment with new forms of interaction that might take the guise of a conventional romantic relationship but consistently flout these conventions within the action of the film. Some screwball comedies, like It Happened One Night, end with a suggestion that the relationship has become a fairly conventional union (or even consummation) of the couple, but these aren't the kind I find most interesting.

I'm not getting these criteria out of any film studies textbook or anything, so they're purely off the top of my head, thinking about what matters to me in a film and why Bringing Up Baby and Hands Across the Table have so much more to say than a more dull and uninteresting counterpart that might generally be considered screwball (e.g. Hitchcock's Mr. & Mrs. Smith).

[tryavna]

I still like the Hitchcock, but I think he actually adopts elements of Screwwball to even better effect in movies from the same period (early War) like Foreign Correspondent

David, what do you make of the Screwball tendencies of Hitch's British films? I'm thinking especially of 39 Steps, Young and Innocent, and Lady Vanishes. The Screwball-esque qualities of 39 Steps in particular has always interested me, since it appears so comparatively early in the Screwball cycle (with I guess most critics citing 1933-34 with its development). Is Hitchcock just being in the vanguard of a particular cinematic style? Or is he borrowing from other pre-Screwball genres and conventions?

Also, Gregory, I agree entirely with the element of class conflict being essential to many classic Screwball movies, but how essential would you consider the "re-marriage" plot to Screwball? I think it's Marian Keane in her commentary for The Lady Eve who talks so much about the importance of narratives of re-marriage to the Screwballs, like Awful Truth, His Girl Friday, Mr. & Mrs. Smith, Palm Beach Story, etc.

Sorry that I'm framing these more as questions than as comments, but I'm really enjoying your guys' exchange and would like to hear both of you say more.

[Gregory]

tryavna, I just realized I've been writing your username as "tryana" all or most times I've addressed you in the past. Sorry.

...but how essential would you consider the "re-marriage" plot to Screwball? I think it's Marian Keane in her commentary for The Lady Eve who talks so much about the importance of narratives of re-marriage to the Screwballs, like Awful Truth, His Girl Friday, Mr. & Mrs. Smith, Palm Beach Story, etc.

Short answer: not essential at all, for me, even though it did turn up in the plots of many of the most familiar screwballs. To clarify what we're talking about for anyone unfamiliar, this isn't normal remarriage but is when two people who have divorced end up remarrying, usually in the final moments of the film. One explanation for it that I've seen is that it was a way of gradually working the controversial topic of divorce into the movies, making it acceptable by undoing it by the end of the film. To me, it seems less like a suitable generic convention and more just derivative. It does work out well sometimes (I love The Awful Truth) but I guess the main test is whether it feels like a recapitulation. Unless the couple in the film has reached a completely new perspective on themselves and the relationship, even throwing out their old habits of interaction and going back to the drawing board, then they're really right back where they started from. The result is a potentially subversive comedy sparkling with possibility that ends on a note of despair and even fatalism. The potential for new and exciting things that's displayed in the main part of some of these film seems to evaporate before my eyes. Mr & Mrs Smith and Philadelphia Story not only end this way, but the events of the main body of the films strike me as either dull (Mr & Mrs) or too sad and distressing to work within what is ostensibly a comedy (P. Story).
I need to see His Girl Friday again (it's been quite a while) before commenting on how remarriage worked within that one. However, it's likely that this was one of the reasons I found the film a bit of a disappointment, along with my impression that Rosalind Russell didn't have as much to offer as many of the other lead actresses Hawks worked with in the late '30s to mid '40s. I remember Robin Wood writing somewhere about how as a young and inexperienced writer he had interviewed Hawks and finished by asking insistently if His Girl Friday wouldn't have been better if Hildy had not decided to remarry Cary Grant's character. Hawks just said something like, "It was what she wanted." This does make sense to me, and it's not that I have problems with characters in my favorite films making decisions that might be ill-advised or even self-destructive. The issue for me is whether a film shows the courage of taking the themes it explores far enough in a direction that avoids or somehow subverts what is comforting and predictable for most viewers.
I haven't really heard what Keane has to say on the topic of remarriage in these films. The Lady Eve is a favorite comedy of mine and when I tried watching it with her commentary, it was not a good experience. I would have been more receptive to her ideas in written form after watching the film, rather than hearing them while the film was playing. Some commentaries work well for me, but most do not. I realize I miss out on some good facts and insights by avoiding commentaries most of the time -- oh well.

[tryavna]

Thanks for a most interesting reply, Gregory, and no worries about mispelling my username in the past. It bears no relation to my real name, and I probably haven't noticed very often.

I don't have strong feelings one way or the other to the essential-ness of re-marriage, but I mentioned it because it does show up in an awful lot of Screwballs -- although it's totally absent from some of the greatest masterpieces of the genre/style (like My Man Godfrey). So it seems like a convention one could either choose to add to the film or not -- though its frequency leads me to think of it as a true convention. (It's like certain Western conventions: not all Westerns have to have the ever-present threat of an Indian attack, but it's fairly common to the genre as a whole.) I do, however, think you make a great case about the importance of the couple attaining a new perspective on or status in their relationship. And to that extent, I share your disappointment in the resolution of His Girl Friday -- though the fun is in everything that comes before, not in the resolution itself. (Personally, I happen to like Russell in the Hildy role. She may not be a typical Hawks heroine, but I can't think of, say, Bacall playing the role five years later.)

I haven't really heard what Keane has to say on the topic of remarriage in these films. The Lady Eve is a favorite comedy of mine and when I tried watching it with her commentary, it was not a good experience. I would have been more receptive to her ideas in written form after watching the film, rather than hearing them while the film was playing. Some commentaries work well for me, but most do not. I realize I miss out on some good facts and insights by avoiding commentaries most of the time -- oh well.

Keane is always a difficult listen, but her information is always interesting. Come to think of it, however, I'm not sure if the stuff she's says about re-marriage is her own or if she's summarizing another critic. At any rate, she does talk quite a bit about the re-marriage narrative during the second half of the commentary, so it might be worth a listen if you can talk yourself into doing it.

[carax09]

I haven't listened to the Keane commentary, but she's probably summarizing the scholarship of Stanley Cavell. His Pursuits of Happiness: The Hollywood Comedy of Remarriage is probably the most well developed exploration of the subject. He covers The Lady Eve/It Happened One Night/Bringing Up Baby/The Philadelphia Story/His Girl Friday/Adam's Rib/The Awful Truth. For those unfamiliar, it's a tremendously fascinating read. In particular, I love his assertion of strong narrative connection between The Philadelphia Story and A Midsummer Night's Dream. It's something I'd not heard before, and it definitely added to my appreciation of that film.

By the way Try, I like that you compared remarriage to an imminent Indian attack!

[tryavna]

I haven't listened to the Keane commentary, but she's probably summarizing the scholarship of Stanley Cavell.

That's the one! It was nagging me all evening last night. (I should have just re-checked this thread and saved myself the frustration.)

By the way Try, I like that you compared remarriage to an imminent Indian attack!

8-)

but if you're willing to ampify the category to include To Catch a Thief (or even North by Northwest) which are both movies ABOUT Cary Grant and Hitchcock's own oeuvre, you have a more rewarding and possibly self-referential experience.

Humor per se is far more bleak and pointed in Psycho and Rear Window and I find it effectively absent from Marnie (his last mastperiece) and only fleetingly apparent in The Birds (his most purely abstract work and his second last masterpiece.)

Really neat points, David! And I must confess that I'd never thought about the first one: that Thief and NxNW are commenting directly on Grant's filmography. Considering Hitch's high regard for the Grant persona, it seems so obvious now that you mention it.

Re. the second point: And of course, the bleakest of all Hitch's late humor comes in Frenzy, which I know you don't care for, David, but which I think is incredibly funny/enjoyable at times. It's almost like Hitch is returning to his British-era roots, but looking at it through his post-Marnie worldview.

On the whole, I do agree with you that Hitch's British films do call out for greater appreciation -- beyond 39 Steps and Lady Vanishes and a few individual set pieces from the others, which seem to get all the attention. But that's actually a different conversation that would require a different thread. (I really do want to revisit Secret Agent, though. It's literally been at least a decade since I've seen it all the way through.)

But to summarize your conclusion, David: Are you saying that Hitch isn't consciously/directly borrowing from Screwball in his British thrillers, but rather from a different "anarchic" tradition?