My Man Godfrey (U.)
Directed by Gregory La Cava. 1936.
Starring William Powell, Carole Lombard, Alice Brady, Gail Patrick, Eugene Pallette, Alan Mowbray, Jean Dixon and Mischa Auer. 89 mins. Black and white. Available on Blu-ray as part of the Criterion Collection.
Crazy Rich American are on the loose in this classic 30s screwball romantic comedy. Made in the middle of The Great Depression it follows enormously entitled, frivolous and indulged people delighting in an enormously entitled, frivolous and indulgent lifestyle. It's a very exclusive group: even the hobo living in the rubbish dump by the river turns out to be high born.
That hobo is our leading man Powell, who one night finds himself caught up in an upper-class scavenger hunt. Hobos are referred to as "forgotten men,” and are worth a lot of points to whichever socialite brings one in first. Godfrey initially refuses to be Cornelia (Patrick) forgotten man but out of curiosity tags along with her older sister Irene (Lombard) instead. She is so smitten with him she offers him the job as their new butler. Her family turn out to profligate eccentrics but Our Man Godfrey is determined not to blow the opportunity.
La Cava's film is considered to be one of the great American comedies. There are some cracking witticisms - “All you need to start an asylum is an empty room and the right kind of people,” - and it perhaps has the best ending of any rom-com; it being both wildly romantic and genuinely funny. In between that though I have to admit I found it to suffer from an excess of ditz.
Criterion's previous release of the 1938 comedy The Awful Truth was a revelation, genuinely hilarious, but this I couldn't get going with. That might be because of a preference for Cary Grant and Irene Dunne over Powell and Lombard. Lombard is the prime purveyor of the ditz. She is adored by the older generation as a skilled on screen comedienne and she was Oscar-nommed for this role, but she is so scatty, her head so spotlessly empty, that it took ages for me to click that Lombard's love for Godfrey was meant to be genuine. Powell is an odd creation altogether, capable of swinging between Humphrey Bogart and George Sanders in a matter of seconds. Suave to dirty rat is quite a range. I couldn't really see what all the ladies saw in him, he always seemed a bit too superior and condescending.
The supporting roles are full of gems though. Brady is a marvellous dopey mother, Auer is a shameless freeloader musician who is her protege and best of all is Pallette as the long-suffering father. My Man Godfrey was the first film to have a performer nominated in each of the four acting categories: Pallette wasn't among them. Ah, the Oscars; just as cockeyed then as they are today.
Extras.
New program featuring jazz and film critic Gary Giddins
Directed by Gregory La Cava. 1936.
Starring William Powell, Carole Lombard, Alice Brady, Gail Patrick, Eugene Pallette, Alan Mowbray, Jean Dixon and Mischa Auer. 89 mins. Black and white. Available on Blu-ray as part of the Criterion Collection.
Crazy Rich American are on the loose in this classic 30s screwball romantic comedy. Made in the middle of The Great Depression it follows enormously entitled, frivolous and indulged people delighting in an enormously entitled, frivolous and indulgent lifestyle. It's a very exclusive group: even the hobo living in the rubbish dump by the river turns out to be high born.
That hobo is our leading man Powell, who one night finds himself caught up in an upper-class scavenger hunt. Hobos are referred to as "forgotten men,” and are worth a lot of points to whichever socialite brings one in first. Godfrey initially refuses to be Cornelia (Patrick) forgotten man but out of curiosity tags along with her older sister Irene (Lombard) instead. She is so smitten with him she offers him the job as their new butler. Her family turn out to profligate eccentrics but Our Man Godfrey is determined not to blow the opportunity.
La Cava's film is considered to be one of the great American comedies. There are some cracking witticisms - “All you need to start an asylum is an empty room and the right kind of people,” - and it perhaps has the best ending of any rom-com; it being both wildly romantic and genuinely funny. In between that though I have to admit I found it to suffer from an excess of ditz.
Criterion's previous release of the 1938 comedy The Awful Truth was a revelation, genuinely hilarious, but this I couldn't get going with. That might be because of a preference for Cary Grant and Irene Dunne over Powell and Lombard. Lombard is the prime purveyor of the ditz. She is adored by the older generation as a skilled on screen comedienne and she was Oscar-nommed for this role, but she is so scatty, her head so spotlessly empty, that it took ages for me to click that Lombard's love for Godfrey was meant to be genuine. Powell is an odd creation altogether, capable of swinging between Humphrey Bogart and George Sanders in a matter of seconds. Suave to dirty rat is quite a range. I couldn't really see what all the ladies saw in him, he always seemed a bit too superior and condescending.
The supporting roles are full of gems though. Brady is a marvellous dopey mother, Auer is a shameless freeloader musician who is her protege and best of all is Pallette as the long-suffering father. My Man Godfrey was the first film to have a performer nominated in each of the four acting categories: Pallette wasn't among them. Ah, the Oscars; just as cockeyed then as they are today.
Extras.
New program featuring jazz and film critic Gary Giddins
- New interview with critic Nick Pinkerton on director Gregory La Cava
- Outtakes
- Lux Radio Theatre adaptation of the film from 1938
- Newsreels depicting Great Depression class divides
- Trailer
- PLUS: An essay by critic Farran Smith Nehme
