Preston Sturges Collection
Although it had existed in some form for hundreds of years (in some Operas, and in a number of Shakespearian plays), screwball comedy made its cinematic arrival in Frank Capra’s It Happened One Night (1934). For around a decade, a spate of comedies was made that continue to delight and entertain audiences to this day. At the time of their production, they provided a tonic for the difficult times Americans were facing, both during the Depression, and at the commencement of the Second World War.
Involving plots that twist and turn, peppered with misunderstandings and mistaken identities, screwball comedies provided women of the era with roles that enabled them to show intelligence, wit and determination. These women were not content to stand stock still in a stunning gown while the lights and shadows were carefully orchestrated around them. Oh, no. They were too busy taking matters into their own hands, and engaging in rapid-fire dialogue. While screwball comedies involved elements of physical humour and slapstick, it is the quality of the dialogue that endures to this day. Some of the best dialogue was written by Sturges, a great exponent of the genre, whose first foray into comedy writing, was an essay entitled Three Hundred Words Of Humour, penned while he was at military camp. And while slapstick isn’t the strongest element of screwball comedy, Sturges directed some of the best (such as Henry Fonda’s bumbling in The Lady Eve).
Raised by his bohemian and somewhat eccentric mother, and a staid stockbroking step-father, one can clearly see how Preston Sturges developed the ability to flaunt irreverence and push the boundaries, while seemingly abiding by standard conventions. Added to that, the experience of a bi-continental childhood, spent in the States and Europe, and it seems Sturges had the ideal upbringing to hone his sophisticated and astute social observations.
The wordplay isn’t just limited to the dialogue, either. The Lady Eve (1941), evokes the first woman mentioned in the Bible (indeed, when we first see Barbara Stanwyck in the film, she is holding an apple, which she then hurls mischievously at Henry Fonda). Yet the title of the film is taken from an alias used by Stanwyck’s character.
Likewise, Sullivan’s Travels, sounds strikingly familiar to Gulliver’s Travels (which, itself, was a satirical title). Sturges even pokes fun at the titles of films – and therefore himself – in Sullivan’s Travels in a scene during which Sullivan, a Hollywood Film Director, lists a number of films he’s directed to a woman he’s just met (played by Veronika Lake). Many of the films have hoky names, and it’s the corniest of them all that Lake’s character remembers fondly.
In fact, the overarching theme in Sullivan’s Travels (apart from its humanistic pronouncements) is of the value of producing humorous content for the amusement of the masses. This is a realisation achieved by Sullivan, a driven idealist earnest to make a film about social commentary, whose travails during the film teach him that whatever the human struggle of the day, laughter is the best medicine.
At the beginning of the film, Sullivan eschews the idea of making a film like “Capra”(a Director whose feel-good films were labelled disparagingly as: “Capra-corn”). Obviously by the end, Sullivan’s opinions shift dramatically (excuse the pun).
Like Capra, Preston Sturges managed to infuse his films with considerable humanism, wry wit and large doses of irreverence. As with many successful filmmakers, he worked with a regular cast of character actors, such as Joel McCrae and William Demarest. Sturges was as clever as some of the filmmakers he influenced (such as the Coen Brothers); he was a master of clever and timeless wit.
A unique quality Sturges had, was to take an eloquent moment, and make it seamlessly farcical. Look for the horse nudging Henry Fonda’s head in The Lady Eve, and the “heartbreaking” moment when Claudette Colbert’s character leaves her husband. Comedy gold.
The Lady Eve (1941)
I’ll confess: I’m not a fan of Henry Fonda. Yet he has been in films that I adore (such as The Wrong Man, and Twelve Angry Men). There has always been something about the tenor of his voice, and the stony-faced, aged-before-his-time facial features that have repelled me. But he was ideal for the role of Charlie Pike in The Lady Eve. Stony-faced is good when playing a bumbling fool; it prevents the pratfalls from being over-acted.
Fonda plays a man born into the wealth created by his father, who literally falls for, and rapidly becomes besotted and bemused by a fast-talking dame (Stanwyck) with shady associations. Her refusal to kotow to the prestige his wealth bestows, impresses him from the outset.
In addition to Fonda’s wonderful befuddlement, is Stanwyck’s sterling comic performance, as a con-artist who falls for her prey.
Sullivan’s Travels (1941)
The idealist’s eventual confrontation with reality is explored in this whacky feature, in which Sullivan – a successful Hollywood Director – yearns to make a “serious” film, relevant to the struggles endured by everyday folk.
Like many idealists, he’s had precious little to do with everyday folk, but to his credit, he sets about remedying the situation, by taking to the road in the guise of a hobo. Hilariously, he keeps finding his way back to Hollywood, aided and abetted by a sidekick he picks up along the way: a girl lured to Hollywood by the prospects of an acting career, who has become jaded by her lack of success, and wishes to return home. Luckily for Sullivan, she’s streetwise and sassy.
Veronica Lake (whom Sturges observed to be a rather ordinary person off-screen, but magic on-screen), gets to relax a little in this film (certainly more than she did in any of her noir roles), and even indulge in a little playfulness.
The wisecracks come thick and fast in this whacky comedy.
The Palm Beach Story (1942)
Claudette Colbert certainly had a knack for comedy. In this film, she plays a resourceful but scatty woman whose husband has failed to be the entrepreneur he set out to be. In a quest to support him and to raise money for the funds needed to make his suspended airport (talk about blind devotion), she leaves him, and embarks on a dalliance with a delightful millionaire whose impeccable attention to detail fails him only in not realising that his new love-interest is married to the man she claims to be her brother.
Meanwhile, the millionaire’s “playgirl” sister (in a brilliant performance by Mary Astor), continually fobs off an amorous sycophant who speaks an incomprehensible language (that sounds slightly German), in favour of pursuing the man she believes to be the brother of her brother’s paramour.
This isn’t nearly as complicated as the way in which the story gets resolved.
The Palm Beach Story boasts a marvellous supportive cast, portraying hilarious characters.