Cary and Myrna House Hunt

Jim (Cary Grant) and Muriel Blandings (Myrna Loy) are a happily married couple living in a three bedroom apartment with their two daughters, Joan (Sharyn Moffett) and Betsy (Connie Marshall), and their maid, Gussie (Louise Beavers). Jim is a successful ad man, making a nice salary, and while he loves his family, he yearns for a home with more room. When he stumbles upon an ad for a farmhouse in Connecticut, Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House (1948).

If you’ve ever bought a house, redesigned your abode, or even picked out paint samples, this film is for you. The combination of Cary Grant, Myrna Loy, and Melvyn Douglas (Bill Cole) is a trio not to be missed. Add in a truly wonderfully supporting cast, and you have a VERY funny movie, which even today rings so true.

Cary Grant is delightful as a family man who is feeling the physical constraints of his crowded New York City apartment. It's very clear that the Blandings are well-off by contemporary standards. Jim makes a good salary, but there are limits, and Mr. Grant effectively pulls off the frustration of a man who is sinking his salary into a construction project that feels like a money pit. Some aspects of home buying have (thankfully) changed - no one today would dream of buying a home without a professional building inspection - but Jim's limitations as a home buyer add significantly to the humor in the film. Cary Grant and Myrna Loy did three films together (the other two are Wings in the Dark (1937) and The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer (1947)); this would be their final film together (TCM article).

Myrna Loy has long proved her talent for comedy, and her fine touch is demonstrated perfectly here. Her rapport with Mr. Grant is wonderful - an early scene, in which he brings her an early morning cup on coffee is a sweet comment on the intimacy of their marriage. As Jim hands her the cup, he lightly strokes the top of her head; she sleepily smiles. Later, as they try to perform their morning ablutions in their tiny bathroom, Jim gently pushes her head down so he can adjust the mirror on the medicine cabinet. It's those little touches that make this very much the story of a marriage. As Jeanine Basinger says, Ms. Loy "always remained relaxed, natural...There was an honesty to her, and a subtext that put her quietly in charge of everything." (I Do and I Don't: A History of Marriage in the Movies). One of my favorite scenes in the film is her selection of paint for the house. Think about the plethora of paint chips in the local paint store today!

The last member of the trio is the realist in their midst - Jim's best friend and lawyer, Bill Cole - who, it turns out, was also one of Muriel's beaux in college. Melvyn Douglas is wry (if somewhat frustrated) by Jim's impetuosity, and the contrast is wonderful. Their regard for one another is clear - even when Jim shows moments of jealousy, the audience knows it can't possibly last. Mr. Douglas had already appeared with Ms. Loy in Third Finger, Left Hand (1940), however they were close friends due to their mutual interest in liberal politics (TCM article).

Louise Beavers is terrific as Gussie, the one calm, practical member of the family. When all else is falling apart, Gussie keeps the home humming.  Though her acting career was spent playing maids, she always brought warmth and dignity to the parts. She's best remembered today for films like Imitation of Life (1934), She Done Him Wrong (1933), and The Jackie Robinson Story (1950), and was one of three actresses to portray Beulah on television - the first television series to star an African-American actress.  In her private life, she served as a board member for the Screen Actors' Guild (Hollywood Black: The Stars, The Films, The Filmakers by Donald Bogle). Her career is discussed in depth in African American Actresses: The Struggle for Visibility, 1900-1960 by Charlene Regester. Ms. Beavers died of a heart attack in 1962, at the age of 60.

The Blandings daughters are ably portrayed by Sharyn Moffett and Connie Marshall. Both girls stopped acting as they approached adulthood; Ms. Marshall died of cancer in 2001. Ms. Moffett and her husband are clergy in the Episcopal Church in Pennsylvania.

Other notable appearances in the film include Reginald Denny as Mr. Simms, the unflappable architect who keeps the Blandings house going; Ian Wolfe has one short scene as realtor Smith - a conniver if ever there was one. Lex Barker is a carpentry foreman in another brief speaking part. Jason Robards, Sr appears as John Retch, the contractor.  But two actors stand out - Lurene Tuttle as Mary, Jim's loyal secretary (watch her as she waits for him to come up with an appropriate ad campaign for Wham!), and especially Harry Shannon as Mr. Tesander, who spends most of the movie looking for water. This exchange between Mr. Shannon and Mr. Grant and Mr. Douglas is priceless:

JIM: Water, Mr. Tesander. TESANDER: Yep. JIM: At six feet! TESANDER: Yep. JIM: And over there, just thirty-two yards away, you had to go down two hundred and twenty-seven feet to hit the same water. TESANDER: Yep. JIM: How do you account for that, Mr. Tesander? TESANDER: We-ll, way it seems to me, Mr. Blandings, over here the water's down around six feet and over there it's-- uh --  BILL AND TESANDER: down around two hundred and twenty-seven feet. (script).

The film was based on a book by Eric Hodkins and is a novelized account of a true story.  Bosley Crowther's New York Times review was generally positive. 

The story spawned an October 1949 Lux Radio Theatre production which starred Irene Dunne and Cary Grant, as well as a Screen Director's Playhouse production with Betsy Drake and Cary Grant in  June of 1950 (AFI catalog). Mr. Grant and Ms. Drake also were the stars of the Mr. and Mrs Blandings radio show in 1951.

New Yorkers all, we loved the introductory scenes of New York City, circa 1948. And we can certainly empathize with life in a NYC apartment. If you've never seen this movie, you'll find it a real treat (and if you have seen it, it's not a bad time to relax with the Blandings Family again). In the meantime, here's the trailer for a taste of what's to come:

Rosalind is Divorced

Marsha Meredith (Rosalind Russell) has been nominated for a federal judgeship. Standing in her way is her recent divorce from Peter Webb (Bob Cummings), an acrimonious affair that is frowned upon by the Senate committee investigating her. To make matters worse, Peter is interfering in the proceedings; Peter wants Marsha back. But Marsha - and her Grandfather (Harry Davenport) - want him out of her life.  Marsha suspects him of having an affair with Ginger Simmons (Marie McDonald) who Peter - a lawyer - claims is a witness; Grandpa just doesn't like him. Our film is Tell it to the Judge (1949).

We are all admirers of the wonderful Rosalind Russell, and were looking forward to this film. We were, unfortunately, quite wrong - it's awful on many levels. Primarily, it's really hard to view in 2019 - the antics of Peter Webb in his quest to get his wife back are horrific. Why any woman would want to marry him is really beyond our ken. Ms. Russell does her level best to make some sense of Marsha, but it's quite impossible, and by the end of the film, you wonder why she would involve herself with such a bunch of schlemiels.  Jeanine Basinger calls Marsha one of the "nightmare career women" Ms. Russell played during the 1940s (A Woman's View: How Hollywood Spoke to Women, 1930-1960) - Ms. Russell recalled at least 23 such parts (TCM article).

Which brings us to Robert Cummings - I've mentioned before that most of my group are not fans (see our entry on him in For Heaven's Sake).  He's even worse in Tell It to the Judge. He doesn't bother to act - he mugs, he overdoes everything, he's shrill. The character is abusive and stupid, constantly putting Marsha into situations designed to do her bodily injury. Even a scene as simple as Cleo (the badly used Louise Beavers) trying to get a ton of luggage out of the room points out his callousness. Certainly, a lot of it is the script, but Mr. Cummings brings nothing to the part. We wondered if a more competent and appealing actor (Cary Grant) might have had a more positive effect on the film - it would certainly be an uphill battle.

Harry Davenport is an actor we always enjoy, but not here. Gramps is a bully in a different direction. HE'S decided Marsha should be a federal judge, and it is implied that he has helped manipulate the divorce because he sees Peter as a hindrance. With the exception of a scene in the middle of the film where he attempts to shanghai Peter, Mr. Davenport has precious little to do. It's a waste of a wonderful actor.

Marie MacDonald's character is in genuine danger from gangsters, but the film plays this down to rev up the "other woman" angle. She's not at all interested in Peter (a woman of sense), but she is afraid for her life, and he's the only person in a position to help her. By trivializing her danger the film again demonstrates that Peter is a jackass who cares for no one but himself.

When we meet  Alexander Darvac (Gig Young), we initially think he might be a better match for Marsha. But as the film progresses, we realize he is just as bad - if not worse - than Peter. It's clear that Mr. Young has no clue who this fellow is; basically he's just another abusive male in this woman's life.

With a screenplay - originally titled My Next Husband (AFI catalog) - that has random scenes that are way too long and characters that are cruel manipulators, we have to agree with Bernard F. Dick when he calls the film "low farce jacked up a few notches to screwball without the accompanying wit" (Forever Mame: The Life of Rosalind Russell).  Unless you are a Rosalind Russell complete-ist, this is one to avoid.

Joan B.'s on the Switchboard

I've Got Your Number (1934) is a film about the telephone: repairing them, using them, working with them.  It opens with a fascinating examination of the importance of the telephone in the 1930s - surely dated, but so enlightening.  In an age where we carry our phones with us, to see the phone being demonstrated as a new technology for both good and ill is a revelation.  As a native New Yorker, I also enjoyed the references to the old exchanges that, back in the day, told you the location of the phone (Nowadays, we carry our numbers with us, no matter where we live!)  

The story is a simple one.  Hotel switchboard operator Marie Lawson (Joan Blondell) inadvertently provides information to gangster Nicky (Gordon Westcott) that results in a financial loss for a guest.  Marie is forced to resign when telephone repair man Terry Reilly (Pat O'Brien) determines the security breech was human rather than machine.  Terry assists Marie in finding a new job.  Only problem is, Nicky is planning to use Marie's new position in a financial office to steal some some securities.  

The film is a tad silly, but it is amusing.  Terry and partner Johnny (Allen Jenkins) make telephone repair look like the most fun job in the world.  And while we have some really great actors, the script doesn't give them a whole lot of time to flesh out their characters.  Terry does a complete about-face when he meets Marie - going from roué to devoted suitor in about ten seconds,though O'Brien does a really good job at making the switch believable.  And Blondell's  Marie come across as very naive.  How can she not know that Nicky is a snake, especially after the incident at her first job?  She's awfully trusting of a man she doesn't seem to like all that much, yet she is obviously, from her banter with O'Brien, very careful of her appearance with men.

Wonderful supporting actors abound:  We've already mentioned Allen Jenkins, who is, as always, a hoot.  We also have Glenda Farrell as Bonnie, aka Madame Frances, a would-be psychic, who's not very good at it and Louise Beavers as her assistant.  And the always wonderful Eugene Pallette as Terry's often frustrated boss, Joe Flood gives a fantastic performance as a man who wants to throttle the devil-may-care Terry, but, when the chips are down, is the first one to come to his defense.  

We were not very familiar with Gordon Wescott.  He made 34 films between 1931 and 1935, but died at the age of 32 from injuries sustained while playing polo. Another interesting bit of trivia - the last scene shows Blondell in bed.  Well, she really WAS confined to her bed - she had just had emergency surgery, and the studio did the scene in Blondell's own bedroom!  The book, Joan Blondell: A Life Between Takes states that the emergency was actually the result of a botched abortion.

Released in January of 1934, this film just makes it into the pre-code era, and, as a result, it is quite risque - there is much double entendre.  And the scene in which Terry lounges on a couch with Bonnie really needs no explanations.

Orry-Kelly does the film's costumes, and Joan Blondell has some wonderful dresses that no switchboard operator could afford.   The dress with a fur collar is especially attractive. 

Before we go, here is a trailer from the film:

Lombard and Stewart are "Made for Each Other"

Made for Each Other (1939) is a delightful little melodrama. Carole Lombard and James Stewart star as Jane and John Mason, a young couple who meet while he is on a brief business trip, fall in love, and marry, as they say, in haste.  Jane returns to John's New York City apartment, to find she has inherited a mother-in-law who is horrified that her son has passed up marriage to the boss' daughter for this precipitous union. Instead of winning a partnership in his law firm, John finds himself and his bride crammed into an apartment too small for his wife, mother, and new baby - the result of a salary cut that quickly plunges the new family into debt.  His frustration, the pain of his wife as she struggles to keep them together, and the travails that must face make us hope they are indeed "made for each other".

As with the film last week, we spent a lot of time discussing the character performances. Again, Charles Coburn shone.  His role this time is that of Judge Doolittle, the head of the law firm for which John Mason works.  At once humorous and infuriating, we watch this man, whom we originally think is an ogre, morph into a human being - and one we begin to love.  The same is true for Lucile Watson as John's mother.  The picture of the mother-in-law from hell, we wait for her to come through in a crisis, and she does.  The thing that is wonderful about their performances, is that we don't find either change out of character or unrealistic. Both Coburn and Watson are such pros that understand exactly why we see a change.  Here, the happy couple let Ms. Watson in on their future:
Finally, a word about Louis Beavers as the supportive maid, Lily.  Her warmth and affection for Jane, which Jane reciprocates, make for a lovely respite to all the troubles Jane faces.  The New Year's Eve scene where Lily visits as she is on her way to a party is delightful, and says so much about the goodness of this enchanting woman.  We discussed Ms. Beavers at some length, eventually touching on her 1934 turn as Delilah Johnson in Imitation of Life and as Gussie in Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House. A wonderful actress, she brought great strength of character to every role she played.

We'll be back soon with Ms. Lombard in Hands Across the Table.