Classics for Comfort

2020 has been a year of interesting times, and in interesting times, we need comfort. What better comfort is there than a good movie?  So, from May 19-22, the Classic Movie Blog Association (CMBA) is hosting the Classics for Comfort Blogathon, in which we will all discuss those films that bring a smile to our lips or a song to our hearts.  In no particular order, I'm pleased to share with you five movies (and an honorable mention) that I turn to in times of trouble, stress, and/or sorrow that are comfort films for me.

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No comfort film list is complete without something from Ms. Hayley Mills. She is a delight - a wonderful actress with a list of excellent films to her credit. Adding just one to this list was a hard choice - in the running were Pollyanna (1960), which I discussed in a previous blogathon, Summer Magic (1963), and The Moon-Spinners (1964).  But, I ultimately opted to select The Parent Trap (1961), because there are TWO Hayleys to make me glad.  

Sharon McKendrick and Susan Evers live on opposite sides of the U.S. Sharon is in Boston with her mother; Susan lives in California on her father's ranch. They accidentally meet at summer camp, loathe each other at first sight, only to discover that they are "separated at birth" twins - when their parents divorced, each took one daughter, planning to never meet again. It was also decided by the parents that they would not tell their children of her sibling's existence.  Knowing it's the only way to get to know the other parent, the sisters decide to change places.  But when Susan discovers that father Mitch (Brian Keith) is about to marry the gold-digging Vicki Robinson (Joanna Barnes), the girls hatch a plan to get mother Margaret (Maureen O'Hara) back with her ex. 

This was Ms. Mills second film with Disney, and she shines in the dual role. She gives the two sisters distinct personalities. Even when dressed alike, you can tell them apart (amusingly, their parents can't).  Sure, the story is a fantasy, but who cares? The early rivalry episodes are full of tween deviltry and the latter partnership includes deviousness of quite a different ilk - you'll cheer when the twins set their sites on the obviously bad Vicki. And when Ms. Mills sings "Let's Get Together," a dare you to not groove to the music.

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We think of Edward G. Robinson (Martinius Jacobson) as a tough guy, but in Our Vines Have Tender Grapes (1945), he's the gentlest man you could ever meet. A loving husband to wife Bruna (Agnes Moorehead) and father to his daughter Selma (Margaret O'Brien), he works as a farmer in a small Wisconsin town.

In many respects, the film is a series of short stories, about Selma and her adventures (and arguments) with her younger cousin, Arnold (Jackie "Butch" Jenkins), about Martinius and his desire to build a new state-of-the-art barn, and about the budding romance between new teacher Viola Johnson (Frances Gifford) and newspaper editor Nels Halvorson (James Craig). The script hangs together beautifully, as the characters weave in and out of each others lives.

The beauty of the film hinges on the relationship between Ms. O'Brien and Mr. Robinson. There is a genuine tenderness between the two; adding Agnes Moorehead to the mix - an actress who, in my estimation, can do no wrong - only adds to the charm of the family connection. In one biography, Ms. O'Brien said she became very close to Mr. Robinson during filming (Margaret O'Brien: A Career Chronicle and Biography by Allen R. Ellenberger); this is certainly reflected on screen.

Yet the films avoids becoming schmaltzy. The town in which the Jacobson's live is not perfect. The town is poor; most of the young men are gone to the War; there is even a hint of child abuse. Ultimately, though, the film is about family and unity - the Jacobson's live in a community that comes together in crisis, even if it is only donating a calf to a cause.

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When times are bad, you need to laugh, and nothing will make you laugh more than Ball of Fire (1941). Gary Cooper (Bertram Potts) plays an English professor at work with six colleagues on a new encyclopedia. Professor Potts is horrified to discover that his understanding of slang is archaic. How can he write the needed article for the encyclopedia without further research? So he ventures out of the their cloister to learn the language of the day. On his journey, he meets Sugarpuss O'Shea (Barbara Stanwyck), a night club entertainer who knows just a bit too much about gangster boyfriend, Joe Lilac (Dana Andrews). Joe's solution - stash Sugarpuss with Bertram and his colleagues until Joe can marry her and keep her from testifying against him.

The combination of Gary Cooper and Barbara Stanwyck is comic dynamite. She's forward and alluring; he's shy and retiring. But they spark on screen like nobody's business.  With her as the aggressor, Ms. Stanwyck is at her comic best - she needs him to become enamored of her, but there is danger in the air. She's never met anyone as gentle and considerate as him, and she finds herself falling for him (much to the consternation of Joe Lilac!)

There are so many wonderful scenes - Sugarpuss teaching the assembled professors the conga; Sugarpuss demonstrating the new slang to Bertram (in the form of yum-yum); Bertram learning to box. I could go on, but you get the idea.

We discussed this film at more length several years ago. But like so many of the great Ms. Stanwyck's films, it is a movie that cries for rewatching (and will have you in stitches throughout.

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Take two remarkable actors, add in some suspense,  sprinkle it with comedy, write dialog that sparkles and you've got Charade (1963). It's easily one of the most re-watchable and entertaining mystery stories around - even when you KNOW the ending, you really don't care. You want to watch the film again to meet with the charming, intelligent, and witty Regina Lampert (Audrey Hepburn) and the man of mystery Peter Joshua (Cary Grant). They are a combination to be imbibed regularly.

Regina is on vacation at a skiing resort in the French Alps with her best friend Sylvie Gaudel (Dominique Minot) when Sylvie's mischievous son Jean-Louis (Thomas Chelimsky) "introduces" her to Peter. He's intrigued, but she "already know an awful lot of people, so until one of them dies I couldn't possibly meet anyone else." Regina returns to her home in Paris, determined to divorce her always-absent husband Charles, only to find her apartment stripped bare and a message from the police. Charles is dead - murdered and thrown from a speeding train. The appearance of three threatening men, who demand to know the whereabouts of money Charles stole from them, add to Reggie's distress. And then there is the question - just WHO is Peter Joshua?

Cary Grant didn't want to do the film - he thought he was too old to be romantically involved with Audrey Hepburn, so the script was altered - she pursues him, and the effect is magic. After all, what woman wouldn't want to woo Cary Grant? Combine their interplay with an engaging story and you have a film to watch over and over. You'll laugh, you'll gasp, but you will never be bored.

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Sometimes, an inspirational film that brings tears to your eyes is just what you need when you feel blue. The true story of The Miracle Worker (1961) is one that does it for me. Based on the autobiography of Helen Keller (Patty Duke), a blind-deaf woman who lost both senses after a childhood illness, the movie introduces the uncontrollable child to Anne Sullivan (Anne Bancroft), herself almost blind, but as determined to teach Helen to communicate as Helen is to have her own way.

As a child, I was addicted to biographies of famous women. I think I read every one I could find in our local library. The woman that fascinated me most was Helen Keller. Her autobiography, The Story of My Life, was awe-inspiring. So too does this film bring a feeling of warmth and love that few movies are able to do. The strength of these two individuals, along with the unquestioning love of Helen's mother, Kate (Inga Swenson) make this a film of great passion.

Don't get me wrong - this is a film with humor as well, but I defy anyone to get to the end without a tear in their eyes. With Oscar-winning performances by Ms. Bancroft and Ms. Duke (both recreating their Broadway roles), The Miracle Worker is a film to lift your spirits.

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Honorable Mention:   No list of my comfort films is complete without a mention of one of my primary sources of comfort since childhood. Sure, including To Trap a Spy (1964), is a bit of a cheat. It’s a filmed version of two Man from U.N.C.L.E. episodes, but for me it's one of the places I go when I need to feel better.

It was love at first sight when I saw Robert Vaughn in an early episode of the show. My father took me to a double bill of this and another U.N.C.L.E spinoff movie The Spy with My Face (1965). To say I was in heaven is an understatement.  

The show ended up forming the basis of my first close friendship - one that abides to this day. When times are tough, when I’m sad or anxious, it’s Napoleon Solo who can make everything just a little bit better. (And it doesn't hurt to have Illya Kuryakin as well!)

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Don't forget to read some of the other blogs that are participating in the Classics for Comfort Blogathon. You're sure to find some other films that will brighten your days.

Dana's on Trial

Writer Tom Garrett (Dana Andrews) attends an execution with his future father-in-law, crusading newspaper editor Austin Spencer (Sidney Blackmer). Spencer has been advocating for the repeal of the death penalty, because of his belief that circumstantial evidence is being used to convict people unjustly. He and Tom come up with an idea - they will concoct evidence against Tom regarding the recent murder of a hooch dancer named Patti Grey. Once Tom is convicted and sentenced, Spencer will come forward with the information that will show it was a setup, and that the conviction could not have been Beyond a Reasonable Doubt (1956).

I try very hard to avoid spoilers in the films we discuss; quite frankly, this is a hard one. The main reason being that the film seems to be going along on a traditional plain. You are sure you know where it is going and how it will end. And then everything hits the fan, and you are gobsmacked to find you were completely wrong.  Our group went into this film knowing very little about it, and we were glad; the beauty of the film is in the surprise towards the end.

Dana Andrews is excellent as the writer who is attempting to bring down a District Attorney (Philip Bourneuf  as Roy Thompson). He's treading a fine line in the film, and he does it beautifully. You would never believe that he was in the midst of an alcoholic crises that resulted in his arriving at the studio late with immense hangovers and after automobile accidents (Hollywood Enigma: Dana Andrews by Carl Rollyson). It would take awhile, but Mr. Andrews was able to control his illness by the late 1960s. In 1972, he became a spokesman for the National Council on Alcoholism and Drug Dependence and was able to say he had not had a drink in four years (New York Times).

We were not as impressed with Joan Fontaine (Susan Spencer).  Susan is a decidedly unappealing character - she's spoiled, she's unemotional; Ms. Fontaine seems stiff and uncomfortable in the role.  One never feels any love between her and Tom. When she reads a newspaper article that shows him slumming with exotic dancer Sally Moore (Barbara Nichols), Susan is offended that Tom has publicly embarrassed her. She seems far less concerned that he is sleeping with another woman. Ms. Fontaine holds the character distant from everyone, and Susan is uninterested in anything that requires thinking. With a father as intelligent as Austin Spencer, one expects a daughter more like Polly Fulton in B.F.'s Daughter. What Ms. Fontaine gives us is an enigma who cares for nothing.

 

While one is never sure of the motives of Roy Thompson, Jonathan Wilson (Shepperd Strudwick) and Bob Hale (Arthur Franz) are portrayed as lawyers who are honorable. The discussions between Hale and Thompson in particular, are fascinating, and display Bob's ethics in contrast with Roy's ambitions.

This was director Fritz Lang's final film in America (TCM article). In fact, film editor Gene Fowler, Jr. put the film together with Lang's instructions - the director had already left the country. The director of M (1931) and Fury (1936) would make three more films in Germany; after which he essentially retired. Upon retirement, he returned to Los Angeles, where he died in 1976, at the age of 85.

Before Bert Friedlob acquired the script, Ida Lupino had intended it as a vehicle for herself, Howard Duff and Joseph Cotton (AFI Catalog). Unfortunately, the film didn't do well on release and received mixed reviews. Variety called it a "melodrama [that] never really jells." The New York Times review by Bosley Crowther, however, praised the "forceful" Mr. Andrews and said that "this a fairly intriguing and brain-teasing mystery film."

In recent years, the film has been discussed in a more positive light, as is demonstrated by these articles in Cineast and The Guardian.  It was remade in 2009 with Michael Douglas as the prosecutor.

We'll leave you with a trailer from the film. Try to avoid spoilers before you view this movie. You'll appreciate the surprise.

Myrna on the Home Front

The war is over and three servicemen are on their way home. Sailor Homer Parrish (Harold Russell), bombadier Captain Fred Derry (Dana Andrews), and infantry Sergeant Al Stephenson (Frederic March) meet on the plane to Boone City. Each returns to family, but each has changed: Homer lost his hands when his ship was torpedoed; Fred saw his friend crash, and now has horrible nightmares, and Al is tormented by his memories of the men who didn't make it home. Are The Best Years of Our Lives (1946) behind them or still to come?

In the first year of its existence (1989), the National Film Registry  added The Best Years of Our Lives to its list of films of "enduring importance to American culture." And indeed it is. It is perhaps the best film of the post-war period, if not one of the best of all time.  Directed by William Wyler after his return from the European Theatre of Operations, it was, in fact, his first film after spending over three years in bomber planes making documentaries for the U.S. Army Air Force. As a result of the noise in the planes, he lost his hearing, and was virtually deaf for several years. Wyler understood well the life facing disabled veterans. He therefore fashioned a movie (based on Time Magazine article "The Way Home," and a treatment by MacKinlay Kantor) that dealt with disability on a variety of levels. (For more on the film and it's creation, see this Film Preservation Board essay).

The most obvious examination of disability is the casting of double amputee Harold Russell as Homer. Unlike his character, Russell was injured in a training accident, and spent the war in the hospital. Mr. Russell was included in a training film Diary of a Sargeant (1944); when Wyler saw that film, he decided to change the character of Homer from a man suffering from severe spacticity. While clearly not an actor, Russell's gives a genuine performance; his scene, late in the film, with actress Cathy O'Donnell (as Homer's fiance, Wilma Cameron) is truly moving, giving real truth to the film. 

Mr. Russell became the only actor to receive two Oscars for the same performance: he was awarded a competitive Oscar for Best Supporting Actor (the other nominees were: Charles Coburn in The Green Years, William Demarest in The Jolson Story, Claude Rains in Notorious, and Clifton Webb in The Razor's Edge), as well as a Special Oscar for "for bringing hope and courage to his fellow veterans." (TCM article). Years later, Mr. Russell sold one of the Oscars, in order to get funding for his wife's health care.

Fredric March won the Best Actor award that year, but  Myrna Loy as his wife, Milly Stephenson didn't even get nominated! If anything is a travesty of the Oscars, it is the fact that she was NEVER nominated for Oscars for any of her wonderful performances. (The Academy did try to finally rectify the oversight in 1991 by awarding her an Honorary Oscar. You can see her acceptance here). Her performance as Milly is inspired. Watch her face as she realizes that Al is in the house. Then, see if you can refrain from tearing up as she explains to daughter Peggy (Teresa Wright, who was only 12 years younger than her on-screen mother) why even her "perfect" marriage has its challenges. Her quiet dignity, as she silently, but sympathetically, observes the changes in her husband are beyond stirring.

Dana Andrews (who also was not nominated for this picture) is excellent as a man returning to a wife he finds he no longer loves (Virginia Mayo as the rather despicable Marie Derry), and who is forced back into the same dead-end job he left to serve his country. Fred Derry is still suffering the effects of the war. He has vivid nightmares of the death of his friend, he feels ill-equipped to take on a more responsible job ("I just dropped bombs" is his response to any queries about his ability to prove experience based on his war service), and his wife only wants him to wear his uniform and party. It is in the company of Peggy Stephenson that he is able to find any comfort or understanding, but his marriage is a block that he can't get around. Mr. Andrews gives us a character that shows the most growth throughout the movie - he really does go from a boy to a man.

Though they only have a few scenes, Roman Bohnen and Gladys George as Fred's father and stepmother Pat and Hortense are magnificent. Their most powerful scene occurs towards the end of the film; the scene is a simple one - Pat is reading a document aloud to Hortense which explains the citation Fred received from the military. With just Mr. Bohnen's voice and Ms. George's eyes, we see the love and pain that they feel for their son. The war, we see, impacted more than those who fought.

Equally effective is Hoagy Carmichael as Homer's uncle Butch Engle. Butch serves as the springboard to Homer's reentry into life - teaching him to "play" the piano, quietly encouraging him to open up to his parents and to Wilma, and perhaps more importantly, keeping him from slipping into alcohol as a refuge from his troubles. Another interesting casting note: Mr. Wyler used his 4 and 7 year old daughters in one of the drugstore scenes.

The film opened to enthusiastic reviews. The New York Times called it "this best film this year..." and Variety said it was "one of the best pictures of our lives." Since then, it has continued to be held in high regard, coming in at #37 in AFI's 100 Years, 100 Movies, 10th Edition (the same position as the original list) and at #11 in AFI's 100 Years, 100 Cheers. Richard Brody singled it out for a DVR alert in his New Yorker commentary. It also was financially successful, earning over $11,300,000 in its first North American release. It was even re-released in 1953 to note the return of troops for Korean, to equally favorable reviews (AFI catalog). Yet, despite this, Mr. Wyler was called before the House UnAmerican Activities Committee - certain scenes were deemed Communist propaganda!

If you have never seen The Best Years of Our Lives, we strongly urge you to get hold of a copy. It is worth your time. We'll leave you with the trailer from the film.

Gene's Portrait is Painted

Is there a better mystery than Laura (1944)? We don't think so, and this week we revisited a film that everyone in our group had seen before (though a few had some memory gaps).  Narrated by Waldo Lydecker (Clifton Webb), Laura tells the story of Laura Hunt (Gene Tierney), a successful advertising executive whom it seemed was loved by everyone - except the murderer who shot her in the face with a rifle full of buckshot.  Detective Mark McPherson (Dana Andrews) is assigned to investigate a case that is full of suspects - Lydecker, Laura's fiance Shelby Carpenter (Vincent Price), the woman who loves Shelby and Laura's aunt, Ann Treadwell (Judith Anderson).  Even maid Bessie Clary (Dorothy Adams) is a suspect.  All profess to adore Laura, but someone pulled the trigger, and McPherson is having a problem as he tries to figure out who -   having read her diaries and seen her portrait (the color version is below), McPherson too has joined the many who love Laura.  As Waldo quips: "You'd better watch out, McPherson, or you'll finish up in a psychiatric ward. I doubt they've ever had a patient who fell in love with a corpse."

Let's begin with the litany of well-deserved praise heaped upon this film:  it won the Oscar for Best B&W Cinematography in 1944; was nominated for Best Screenplay, Best Art Direction-Interior Design, Best Director (Otto Preminger) and Best Supporting Actor (Clifton Web).  In 1999, it was selected for the National Film Registry.  Since then, it has been named number 4 in  AFI's 10 Top 10 in Mystery, number 7 in  AFI's Top 25 Film Scores (if you've never heard the score of Laura you can listen to a version of it), and #74 in AFI's 100 Years 100 Thrills.  The film was extremely well received (you can see excerpts of some of the contemporary reviews within these TCM articles).  And Laura's theme was so popular that 20th Century Fox hired the magnificent Johnny Mercer to provide lyrics to the music the following year (want to hear the lovely words? Here is the incomparable Frank Sinatra singing the song in 1957).

For many of us who grew up watching Vincent Price as the Prince of the horror film, seeing him as the love interest is a new experience.  Price is an actor who makes everything (even those odd horror pieces he did in the 1960s) seem elegant.  His Shelby is equally elegant, but not in the least a nice person. Shelby is unambitious, greedy, self-absorbed, and innately selfish.  He uses everyone; though he professes to love Laura, he is merely using her the same way he uses Ann.  Ann, however, says she and Shelby are the same, and she (unlike Laura) can afford him. Judith Anderson conveys that aspect of Ann beautifully - she is similar to Shelby in many ways, primarily in their greed and in their total disregard for others.  But Anderson gives Ann a strength of character that Price removes from Shelby.  A marriage between the two characters will be interesting;  surely Shelby will again try to stray, but Ann will make certain that his leash is short - no longer than the checkbook in her hand.

And then there is Waldo.  Fox had a number of actors under consideration for this plum role.  Laird Cregar was their first choice, but producer Preminger felt he was too obviously a villain.  George Sanders, John Sutton, and Monty Woolley were also considered for the part, which was allegedly patterned after the critic Alexander Woollcott.  But Preminger wanted Clifton Webb.  Webb had appeared in a few silent films in the 1920s, but this was his first talkie - he had spent his career on Broadway.  He appeared in a total of 23 Broadway plays, most of them musicals.  In fact, if you ever visit the Music Box Theatre in New York City, there is a picture of him in the lobby from The Little Show (1929-1930).  Preminger wanted an actor who was relatively unknown and approached Webb, who ultimately consented.  His Waldo is brilliant, selfish, opinionated, vain - and delightful.  It's hard to dislike Waldo, though one would neither want to be the victim of his tongue (or his "goose quill dipped in venom") nor of his affections.  He is obsessed with Laura, trying toThe scene in which Waldo and Laura first meet - as he lunches at his favorite restaurant - was modeled after the Algonquin Hotel, where Alexander Woollcott had dined (as part of the famed Round Table). And the portrait was actually a photograph of Tierney with oil paint strategically touching it up. Just these two points suggest why the film was nominated for an art direction/interior design Oscar. away anyone to whom she might be attracted.  Yet, in some senses, would he have been a better choice for Laura had he been less obsessive?  Only Waldo appears to understands her drive for a career.

Jennifer Jones was the first person signed for the role of Laura Hunt, but she backed out at the last minute (this AFI article goes into some detail on the casting history of the film).  Also considered were Hedy Lamarr and Eva Gabor.  But Preminger wanted Gene Tierney, and she is luminous as Laura.  Tierney came into the film having suffered a huge personal tragedy - her daughter Daria was born in 1943 with massive physical problems - developmentally disabled, deaf, and sight-impaired.  Tierney was bereft, but things would get worse.  Several years later, a fan approached her, informing her that when Tierney was appearing at a USO show during her pregnancy, the woman broke quarantine to meet Tierney, transmitting the disease to the unborn child.  (The story was fictionalized by Agatha Christie in The Mirror Crack'd from Side to Side.  For more on rubella and birth defects and Gene Tierney, see this New Yorker article.)  Tierney's husband, Oleg Cassini suggested in his autobiography that Laura's ethereal quality reflected Tierney's grief. 

Dana Andrews also had competition for the role of Mark McPherson - both John Hodiak and George Raft were considered. Andrews was relatively new at Fox - he'd already co-starred with Gene Tierney in Belle Starr (1941), and had appeared in a number of war films for the studio (Wing and a Prayer, The Purple Heart, The North Star), but this was new territory for him.  His work was noticed - this New York Times review is especially impressed with his performance, as is director Martin Scorsese, who singles him out in one of the TCM articles mentioned above.  

Originally,  Rouben Mamoulian was to direct the film, but Otto Preminger took on the task after Mamoulian's first dailies proved to be unsatisfactory.  According to Vincent Price, Preminger felt that Mamoulian had one small issue with the film: "Rouben only knows nice people,  I understand the characters in Laura. They're all heels, just like my friends."  And, indeed they are heels.  One of the beauties of the film is that every character is flawed.  We talked at some length about what happened "after" the film - would Laura actually end up with Mark, or was he yet another one of her "lean strong bod[ies]" who Waldo complained was her criteria for love.  Would Mark understand her need to work? Would Laura leave a successful career to be a housewife, and live on a policeman's salary?  It's clear that she is someone who likes the finer things in life - she has happily given herself over to Waldo tutelage; his view of their relationship is frightening:

"She was quick to seize upon anything that would improve her mind or her appearance. Laura had innate breeding, but she deferred to my judgment and taste. I selected a more attractive hairdress for her. I taught her what clothes were more becoming to her. Through me, she met everyone: The famous and the infamous. Her youth and beauty, her poise and charm of manner captivated them all. She had warmth, vitality. She had authentic magnetism. Wherever we went, she stood out. Men admired her; women envied her. She became as famous as Waldo Lydecker's walking stick and his white carnation."

We know she has populated her apartment with his gifts, so his appraisal of her does give one pause.

The scene in which Waldo and Laura first meet - as he lunches at his favorite restaurant - was modeled after the Algonquin Hotel, where Alexander Woollcott had dined (as part of the famed Round Table).  And the portrait of Laura was actually a photograph of Tierney with oil paint strategically  touching it up.  Just these two points suggest why the film was nominated for an art direction/interior design Oscar. 

This version of Laura was broadcast on Lux Radio Theatre on 5 February 1945, with Gene Tierney, Dana Andrews, Vincent Price and Otto Kruger (as Waldo), and then again on 1 February 1954, with Gene Tierney, Victor Mature, Joe Kearns and Carleton Young.  It's also been remade twice:  first as a one-hour telecast on 19 October 1955, on The 20th Century-Fox Hour, starring Dana Wynter, George Sanders and Robert Stack. Then, on 24 January 1968, a new adaptation by Truman Capote was aired, starring George Sanders, Robert Stack and Lee Bouvier.  George Sanders as Waldo was an especially delicious casting idea.

We'll leave you with the trailer from Laura.   Next time, we'll be viewing another film about a strong woman faced with the choice of career vs. home.

Dr. Greer

Strange Lady in Town (1955) was of particular interest to me (and to my friends), because it is the story of a female doctor.  I've done some research on women physicians in film, and even presented a paper on the topic; I'd heard of this film, though never seen it before.  It proved to be an interesting addition to women physicians on film.  Strange Lady in Town tells the story of Dr. Julia Winslow Garth (Greer Garson), a Boston physician who has relocated to Santa Fe, New Mexico, where her brother, Lt. David Garth (Cameron Mitchell) is serving in the military.  Dr. Garth is tired of the bias that has continually hobbled her medical career: male physicians in Boston routinely cut at her ability to practice.  She hopes that frontier medicine will enable her to advance her career and help her to help others.  But upon her arrival, she discovers from the spunky Carlotta "Spurs" O'Brien (Lois Smith) that her father,  Dr. Rork O'Brien (Dana Andrews) is yet another of those bigoted physicians, and she will need to get around him in order to grow her practice. 

One of the major problems with this film is the side plot that involves brother David and his predilection for illegal activities.  It seemed like it belonged in another movie, and that the growing list of David's crimes was artificial - merely a way for the townspeople to blame Julia for something.  David's not particularly likeable; one wonders what "Spurs" sees in him.  And why he is "bad" is never really explained - he has risen to a decent position in the military, and appears to be liked by his colleagues (when he isn't cheating them...).  He justifies his crime spree as being just who he is - he's bad; Julia is just too fond of him to notice (apparently, the Army was too fond to notice as well).  The main story:  the conflict between Doctors O'Brien and Garth, the growing relationship between "Spurs" and Julia, was far more interesting and engaging.

This is not to say that Dr. O'Brien is a particularly amiable man; in fact, he's pretty hard to tolerate.  He's ignorant and a bully - upon learning that Dr. Garth has studied under Lister, and subscribes to Lister's belief that sterilizing instruments and washing hands saves lives, O'Brien ridicules her.  In fact, he later complements her on her "perfume", only to learn that the scent is that of carbolic acid (Lister's prescribed sterilizing agent).  O'Brien's saving grace is his daughter.  "Spurs" is so likeable and engaging she mitigates her father's actions merely by her love for him.  Given "Spurs'" garb (she dresses like a boy), complete self-sufficiency, and genuine caring personality, combined with the  free-rein she is given by her father, how much of Dr. O'Brien's bias is genuine, and how much is just male-chauvinist bluster? The film's end (bit of a spoiler here) implies that he is all bluster, but it takes awhile to get there.

Lois Smith as "Spurs" is a revelation - you cannot help but like her; and she almost steals the movie from star, Greer Garson.  Smith, who is still actively working, has had a long career. She is primarily known for her television work - most recently, she appeared on True Blood as Adele Stackhouse; she also had a recurring role on ER, and was a regular on The Doctors.  An inductee into the American Theatre Hall of Fame, Ms. Smith has appeared in 20 Off-Broadway and 10 Broadway plays, including James Earl Jones' The Iceman Cometh in 1973-1974. I'm not sure if Bosley Crowther's comment on her performance in this review in the New York Times does her justice, but "Spurs" is a character with dignity.

Nick Adams appears VERY briefly as Billy the Kid; if you blink, you will miss him.  And Cameron Mitchell is good in the fairly thankless part of David.  But it is Greer Garson who is the star here, and she shines.  This TCM article discusses some of Ms. Garson's travails on the picture, not the least of which was an attack of appendicitis that ultimately required surgery (and none too soon - her appendix was about to burst).  Regardless, Ms. Garson was fond of the picture, having finally gotten to do an "outdoor role".

Strange Lady in Town is very reminiscent of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, and we wondered if the creators of that show had ever seen this film.  This 2014 overview discussion of the film is worth taking a look at for the list that they compiled of women physicians in television westerns.  I'm hoping I can locate some of them.

We'll close with the scene in which Julia meets with "Spurs".  Next time, we'll be looking at a Ronald Colman pre-code film.

Barbara Demonstrates Yum-Yum

When Professor Bertram Potts (Gary Cooper) discovers that his seven years of relatively isolated research have led to a complete lack of understanding of current American slang, he ventures out of the confines of his enclave.  In his quest, he meets Sugarpuss (Katherine) O'Shea (Barbara Stanwyck), an entertainer who is currently on the lam from the cops - seems her boyfriend, Joe Lilac (Dana Andrews) is suspected of murder and wants her out of the way, since she could link him to the victim.  Sugarpuss arrives on Bertram's doorstep, and within an hour has his research colleagues eating out of her hand, as well as a room in their headquarters.  Meanwhile, Joe is planning a wedding - since a wife can't testify against her husband.  And Bertram is falling in love with his sexy house guest. 

Ball of Fire (1941) is another one of those madcap films that show Barbara Stanwyck's gift for comedy, as well as her chemistry with co-star Gary Cooper.  They had worked together earlier that year in Meet John Doe, and Cooper suggested her for the part of Sugarpuss when other actresses turned it down - among those approached were Virginia Gilmore (Sam Goldwyn's first choice, as she was under contract to him at the time), Ginger Rogers (who thought the role beneath her), Carole Lombard, Jean Arthur, Betty Fields, and Lucille Ball.  Goldwyn and director Howard Hawks were thrilled at having Stanwyck in the role, and their confidence paid off.  (This TCM article gives a little more information on the casting woes of the production).  

Stanwyck carefully balances the greedy showgirl against the young woman who falls in love - against her will - with a man who "looks like a giraffe", "gets drunk on a glass of buttermilk," and "doesn't know how to kiss".  Without the fine hand of Stanwyck, the film could have easily imploded, as it did with the remake (A Song is Born).  Stanwyck gives us a Sugarpuss who glows with love and with sexuality, and who is finally bested by an innocent man who loves her with all of his heart.  She is intelligent, though uneducated, but she is someone who hungers for love AND for knowledge.  And though clearly Joe has gotten her a job in a classy joint, Stanwyck shows us Sugarpuss' roots - watch her walk on the stage as she performs - Sugarpuss started as a stripper.  

As always, Stanwyck is impeccably dressed by her favorite costumer Edith Head.  She has some lovely street clothing, as well as a splendid costume for her act, that is both breathtaking and cheesy at the same time.  And watch how it sparkles in the dull environs of the professors' apartment house - Head makes Sugarpuss the real bright spot in the lives of these sequestered intellectuals.

Equally perfect is Gary Cooper as Bertram.  It would be easy to make Potts merely a jerk, rather than an innocent, but Cooper carefully walks that line.  Certainly Potts is naive, but he is eager to learn and to experience new things.  His enthusiasm for the slang he is discovering is palpable. He is a man dedicated to his scholarship - though much younger than his scholarly colleagues, he hasn't had the opportunity to interact with the opposite sex, but when he does, his inhibitions take a back seat to his passion.

It's interesting to see Dana Andrews in a supporting role.  His Joe Lilac is an egomaniac, surrounded by Yes Men, who is quite sure he can tame Sugarpuss with a large diamond and a marriage certificate.  Given that Andrews has very little screen time, he makes the most of what little time he is provided.  You don't forget Joe - Andrews makes him just sinister enough to keep the comic background, but still have a character that is a threat to our lovers.

This is a film that is blessed with an amazing supporting cast.  We have the always excellent Allen Jenkins as the neighborhood garbage man, who wants to enter a "quizzola" (he's got all the boxtops he needs.  What he needs are the answers).  Dan Duryea as Duke Pastrami, Lilac's lead henchman is delightfully oily, with his rather disturbing laugh is put to good use.  Watch for the scene when he licks his thumb to clean his gunsight - thus tipping his hat to co-star Gary Cooper (who did the same maneuver in Sergeant York).  "I saw this in a movie," Duryea quips. (Interestingly, a few days after seeing Ball of Fire, I was watching Davy Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier (1955), and my husband noticed that Fess Parker (as Crockett) does the same maneuver while fighting Santa Ana at the Alamo. Coincidence? I think not.)

And let us not forget the "seven dwarfs" (Yes, the film is loosely based on Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs), Professor Potts colleagues in research.  Among the superb actors gracing the cast are Oscar Homolka as Professor Gurkakoff (Mathematics), Henry Travers as Professor Jerome (Geography), S. Z. Sakall  as Professor Magenbruch (Physiology), Leonid Kinskey as Professor Quintana, and Richard Haydn as the appropriately named Professor Oddly (Botany).  Sugarpuss calls them a bunch of "squirrelly cherubs", a most apt description.  But rather than just have them there for laughs, they are intrinsic to the plot - it is their combined brain power that will save the day for our couple.

One other note of interest, actress Mary Fields, who plays Miss Totten, is the only actor to appear in the remake, A Song is Born. She plays the exact same character in the remake, though there was a seven year gap between the films.  

Ball of Fire was well received at the time of its release, as is evidenced by this New York Times review.  In 2007, it was selected as a TCM Essentials pick (as well as a 2012 Essentials, Jr. selection).  AND it is number 92 on the American Film Institute's 100 Funniest American Movies Of All Time list.   If you've never seen it, treat yourself to a viewing - and if you have seen it, curl up on a cold evening and watch it again!  We leave you with the scene in which Sugarpuss demonstrates "Yum-yum".  We'll be back soon with more Barbara!

Joan and Henry and Dana

We got to view another winner, this time from 20th Century Fox (Crawford was on loan from WB): Joan Crawford's next film at WB was the excellent Daisy Kenyon.  Joan plays the title character, a successful graphic artist involved with a married lawyer, Dan O'Mara (Dana Andrews).  Daisy is dissatisfied with her life with Dan - she knows that he has no intention of divorcing his wife (Ruth Warrick as Lucile O'Mara).  Enter Peter Lapham (Henry Fonda), a veteran with his own demons from the past, who falls in love with Daisy almost at first sight. As the two men war for Daisy's affections, Daisy and Dan's family, are torn apart by the complicated relationships.

This is an amazing cast - Crawford's Daisy is powerful and independent.  You cannot help but like her.  Her relationship with Dan is so complex, yet we end up liking Dan. One rather wants to kick him at times, but it is not possible to truly dislike him.  He is too caring of his children, and we always felt he did indeed love Daisy.  Henry Fonda also shines as Peter, giving us a depth the the character, so that ending (not to be revealed here) is totally believable.  And the story will keep you involved til the last scene! 

We also tip our hat to Ruth Warrick as Lucile O'Mara, Dan's high-strung wife.  We found it interesting that a film from 1947 would not only imply physical child abuse, but would implicate a mother in the action.  While we never actually SEE Lucile beat her younger daughter, the film makes it abundantly clear that Dan and Daisy suspect something of the sort is going on.  It is not surprising that Otto Preminger, who created such a row with his discussions of rape in Anatomy of a Murder is the director here as well.

After watching the movie, we also watched the brief, but interesting, documentary that is included on the DVD.  We did have one big argument with the discussion. Several of the critics, including our personal hero Robert Osborne, argued that Ms. Crawford was too old (she was 43 at the time) to play Daisy.  We disagree wholeheartedly.  First off, Henry Fonda is exactly the same age so, if she is too old, so is he.  Secondly, Daisy is supposed to be a successful career woman.  Given her position in life (she says she has been working for many years), she would need to be at least into her late 30s; the same with Dan O'Mara - if we figure out his age at graduation from law school, and factor in the age of his oldest child, he must be at LEAST 39 year old.  Our question was, why is it so impossible to believe that Daisy could be a. near 40,  b. still be sexy, and c. that the lovely Ms. Crawford could pass for a women a few years under 40?  Here's a trailer - you tell us if you think Ms. Crawford still has IT:


Join us again next week for another Crawford pic!