Astaire and Rogers Series: Roberta (1935)

Fred and Ginger dance to Jerome Kern's immortal
"Smoke Gets in Your Eyes," in Roberta.

"Lovely to look at, delightful to know," that lyric from one of the many classic tunes in this picture perfectly describes how I feel about the film as a whole. Like the film preceding this one, Roberta is a film adaptation of a Broadway smash of the same name and staring Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. This time, however, they share the limelight with Irene Dunne and Randolph Scott to great effect. Dunne is already one of my favorite actresses of the era both from her operetta work in films like Showboat and her comedic chemistry with Cary Grant in The Awful Truth and My Favorite Wife. Meanwhile Randolph Scott fulfills his role admirably, though perhaps a slight criticism might be that his performance is a little too much a copy of Gary Cooper.

This film is easily a favorite with my family thanks to the tremendous score by Jerome Kern in which all the songs have become standards but some of the most memorable are "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes," "Lovely to Look at," and "I Won't Dance." The plot is also fun and well-acted by the supporting cast, two things that are always a plus. To top it off, Fred and Ginger have two great dances together, which is one less than usual, but the final one, done to a medley of "Lovely to Look at" and "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes," is absolutely spectacular.

What passes for a plot goes something like this: American football star John Kent (Randolph Scott) tags along with his friend, the jazz band-leaders Huck Haines (Fred Astaire), who takes his orchestra to Paris for a gig at a swanky cafe only to find that they've  been embroiled in a misunderstanding and have no job. Fortunately for them, John's aunt Madame Roberta owns the most exclusive couturiere in Paris, and thus has the connections to get them another job. That job comes through the Comtesse Scharwenka (Ginger Rogers), who in reality is Huck's high school sweetheart Lizzie. Unfortunately for John, his aunt dies and leaves him her shop, which he has no idea how to run. He would get rid of it, but he's fallen in love with Madame Roberta's assistant Stephanie (Irene Dunne), and decides to take her in as a partner in the business. This goes well until John's snobbish ex-girlfriend from America arrives, suddenly interested in him again because of his inheritance.

Since the setting for this film is a couturiere, all the dresses are completely outlandish, sometimes to great and sometimes to horrible effect. Thus there's plenty of eye candy in the wardrobe department, but there's just as many eyesores, especially Ginger's gown for the "I Won't Dance" sequence, which has one of the ugliest set of shoulders I've ever seen on a dress. I do, however, rather like the simple black gown she wears in the picture above, which has a flattering cut, practical racer-back straps for dancing, and is made from a silken satin (most satin today is made from nylon or some synthetic fabric. To make it from silk is extremely costly).

Even though their romance takes a back seat to the Irene Dunne/Randolph Scott plot, Fred and Ginger are quite endearing in this picture the way they playfully flirt with each other and outright tease each other at times. In addition they get plenty of screen time and have distinctive enough characters that it feels like they're truly sharing the limelight rather than playing second fiddle as they did in Flying Down to Rio. In addition Irene Dunne and Randolph Scott are much better actors than the leads in the aforementioned film, so when the focus is on them, they do not bore us. Irene Dunne further charms us with her classical voice in the two ballads she sings, "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes," and "Yesterdays."


I give this film a 8 out of 10. Even though it doesn't feature Fred and Ginger as prominently as some of their other films, it manages to find a good balance of all the elements needed for a successful musical comedy.


Buy it Now:
Roberta, Show Boat (1936) [VHS], The Awful Truth, My Favorite Wife

Astaire and Rogers Series: The Gay Divorcee (1934)

In this iconic photo, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers
romance to Cole Porter's immortal "Night and Day"
in their first starring film, The Gay Divorcee.

Welcome to the first of my series on the greatest film duo of all time: Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. I know that sticking a superlative on anything warrants debate, but I think I may so term these two without much fear of contradiction. In terms of name-recognition, number of movies made together, and the quality of those films, Astaire and Rogers have no real competition for screen duos. They were the biggest thing in Hollywood during the '30s, and made a stunning nine movies together in the course of seven years. Not only that, but all of their films feature superb music by the greatest composers of the day such as Gershwin (who was a personal friend of Fred Astaire's and who wrote the immortal "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off" because his brother and lyricist Ira Gershwin noticed that Fred and Ginger pronounced certain words differently), Irving Berlin, Jerome Kern, and Cole Porter. On a less important note, a lot of high-end designers clamored for Ginger to wear their gowns, resulting in a lot of fabulous and a lot of horrible wardrobe choices for her. I will be monitoring both throughout the series.

A typical Astaire and Rogers musical features a light romantic comedy plot with colorful minor characters and plenty of misunderstandings. Fred and Ginger normally have about three dances together and a few more songs, but it's during the dances that they fall in love. This dynamic duo was first teamed together for supporting roles in the 1933 film Flying Down to Rio, a film that many people consider to be the first of great the Astaire/Rogers movies, but I exclude it on the grounds that they're barely in it and when they're not on-screen it's a pretty wretched film. Fortunately for the world, the producers at RKO Pictures realized that they had something special in those two, and decided to give them their own film based on a play Fred had done on Broadway, The Gay Divorce (the title was changed to The Gay Divorcee in order to eliminate the implication that anything could be fun about divorce, but the theme of the play still seems to support that thesis).

As the first real Astaire/Rogers film, therefore, this film has a lot of magic moments, but it also has a lot of things that will be improved upon in later outings. Let's start with what's good, shall we? First off the plot is simple but amusing, and the character actors are hilarious especially Alice Brady, Edward Everett Horton, Eric Blore, and Eric Rhodes. Of course Fred and Ginger have a couple of good dances together in "Night and Day" and "The Continental,." a 17-minute extravaganza.  I also can say that this is the only one of their movies in which I like all of Ginger's outfits. In every other film she has one dress that's absolutely hideous but in this one she escapes possibly because she was not yet a big enough star to get really avant-garde designers. I especially like the ball gown in which she's pictured above.

Now, unfortunately I have to tell what's sub-par. To start, with the exception of the two already mentioned musical numbers, the rest of the score is completely forgettable. Secondly there's a musical number featuring Betty Grable called "Let's Knock Knees" that's extraneous and painfully bad--and that's only partially because Edward Everett Horton tries to sing! Also as well as the plot works it's not as refined or tightly-woven as their later films would be, but this is a minor quibble.

The plot synopsis is simple. Ginger Rogers plays an American girl who finds to her dismay that her husband, a British professor, is a fortune hunter. Obviously she needs a divorce, but in 1930s Britain, women could only get divorces with either their husbands' permission or in a case of proven infidelity. So in order to get grounds for her divorce, Ginger must fake an affair with a hired correspondent. Unfortunately she mistakes the man who, unaware of her marital status, has been romantically pursuing her for the hired correspondent, creating some memorably awkward and funny scenes.

Despite a few objections and the fact that it's not as good as their later pairings, I still give this film a 7.6 out of 10, a solid Astaire/Rogers outing.

Buy it on DVD:
The Gay Divorcee, Flying Down to Rio

Film Review: The Sky's the Limit (1943)

War pilot Fred Astaire pretends to be a drifter while
wooing Joan Leslie in The Sky's the Limit.

Last Thursday I went to the great Golden-Age movie palace the Stanford Theatre in order to see an obscure Fred Astaire film called The Sky's the Limit. I had seen this film before--probably at the Stanford--but it failed to make an impression on me all. In fact all I could remember about it was that Fred played a fighter pilot. So obviously it's obscure for a reason.

Still, I'm of the opinion that a movie featuring the greatest dancer ever to grace the silver screen can't be without some merit, even if it's a piece of wartime fluff such as this, which I normally condemn on principle. For Astaire fans I would say that this movie is certainly worth viewing because in Fred's three dance numbers his performance do not fail to disappoint. Not only did Astaire choreograph all his dances himself, but he took pains to ensure each had a unique look to it in order both to show his versatility and to keep from being a one-note performer. As a connoisseur of Fred Astaire, therefore, I cannot help looking with admiration and delight at each of his numbers.

So what's this movie about besides and hour and a half (pardon the bad joke)? Well, just as I remembered, Fred plays a decorated fighter pilot on leave who is being paraded around the country as a poster-boy/moral-booster. Tired of being on the pedestal with no time to relax, he ditches his unit and goes roaming across the country, ending up in NYC where he falls in love with a lovely photographer played by Joan Leslie. The only problem is that Fred doesn't want to tell her he's a war hero because--he says but doesn't elaborate sufficiently--he fears that she would have him talking about nothing else since her dream is to be a war correspondent.

Perhaps I'm too removed from that wartime generation to get it, but this motivation seems dreadfully insufficient to me, especially since it significantly hinders his courtship with the girl he likes, and he only has a short time in which to woo her. To me this is just laziness on the part of the screenwriters. It's a lame excuse in order to draw out the plot, especially when there could be lots of more believable reasons why he'd want to conceal his identity from her and that would still serve the purpose they wanted plot-wise.

In addition the film suffers from an uninspired writing for the minor characters, something that's usually vital for a romantic comedy. For example they had a potential for a lot of humor out of the fact that Joan Leslie entertains in a soldiers' canteen, and when Fred follows her there pretending to be a civilian, he runs into the other members of his squadron, who don't torment him nearly as much as they should to make a comedy really entertaining. Again, this speaks of laziness on the writer's part.

Inspired plots, however, are not the reason people go to see musicals. That can be easily forgiven if the signing and dancing is good enough. Is it, though, in this case? Yes and no. There are only three musical numbers in the whole movie, and while that's not nearly enough to carry us through ninety minutes, the three numbers are quite good. The score by Harold Arlen and Johnny Mercer features the immortal "One More for My Baby," which would also be featured in the much better film Cover Girl the next year, and two more songs which, while not fabulous are sweet and appropriate. I've already hinted that Astaire's dancing is inspired, but now let me say that he treats us to a vaudeville-style light duet with Joan Leslie, which is cute and peppy, a passionate love piece, and  a drunken despairing solo of "One More for My Baby." I know a good performance should always leave us wanting more, but in this case it's so little as to make us feel cheated.

Fred Astaire is such a superb performer that I'm going to give him a 6 out of 10 just for being himself and giving us some entertaining songs and dances, but he's the only asset this film has.


Buy it now:
The Sky's the Limit [VHS], Cover Girl

Special Book Review: To Say Nothing of the Dog

**This is an excerpt of a review I wrote for Worthy of Note, a book, movie, and TV blog run by my good friend Publius, and a fabulous resource for the discerning reader and viewer. For the full article please see the above link.

Connie Willis has long been acknowledged by literary critics as one of the premier writers in the science fiction genre, but her taste--while excellent and always worth reading--is not mainstream enough to make her a popular favorite. She is not sci-fi enough for typical readers in that audience nor can her books really be classified as regular fiction and thus draw on that considerable demographic for support. Thus despite wining multiple Hugo and Nebula Awards, Ms. Willis remains generally unknown even to dedicated bibliophiles who would appreciate her genius the most.

Out of her impressive oeuvre, the three novels that really stand out to me are Doomsday Book (1992), Bellwether (1996), and To Say Nothing of the Dog (1997), the last of these being my personal favorite and the subject of today's review. Any lover of 19th and Early 20th Century fiction will be delighted by the endless stream of thoughtful literary references, and while this book is mostly a fun romp through the romantic comedy genre, Willis still manages to add depth and urgency to the narrative, elevating it far beyond typical literary homages like Jasper Fford's Thursday Next books. Since this book ranks easily as one of my favorite books of all time and is fairly obscure despite winning Hugo and Locus Awards, I will necessarily be taking a lot of print to describe its considerable merits.

My 10 Most Desirable Ladies of Page and Screen

**Special Note from the Supreme Arbitress: Since I am unqualified to comment on the attractiveness of women because I am a heterosexual woman, I asked a heterosexual man to take on the task for me.  Fortunately my good friend Publius is a blogger who fits the qualification, and I am proud to present his article to you now. Publius reviews current movies, books, and television on his blog Worthy of Note, a resource I use regularly for my forays into contemporary media.  I think you will find that his comments denote a lot of deep thought and consideration, and for that he has my most heartfelt respect.**


The greatest challenge about this post was not writing each entry; it was selecting the ten ladies to be memorialized. Those characters who enjoy "happily ever after" endings are often so one-dimensional that it is hard to view them as real or compelling. On the other hand, those who are compelling are so often laden with baggage that life with them would be exceedingly difficult, and not something I would jump into lightly. Each choice thus came down to balancing between these two qualities.

I received from my friends a number of recommendations for this list, but I was not able to include a number of these female characters simply due to my ignorance of them. These include Harriet Vane of the Peter Wimsey novels, Ellen Olenska of The Age of Innocence, and Sophie from Howl's Moving Castle.

I must also make honorable mention of every heroine crafted by Jane Austen. They are uniformly delightful, and while only two appear on this list, those who did not make it deserve some recognition. I should also note the many ladies of Shakespeare's plays, some of whom are absolutely detestable, but many of whom deserve a good deal of credit. Isabella (from Measure for Measure) and Portia (from The Merchant of Venice) are compelling and multidimensional characters, who make reading a pleasure. Whether they would do the same for married life... who can really know?

Yvaine (Claire Danes) and Tristan Thorn (Charlie Cox)
escape from the witches' lair in the 2007 film Stardust.

10. Yvaine, Stardust

Neil Gaiman is one of my favorite authors, but he does not create many characters with whom I would willingly spend a life. His books seem to contain every emotion but joy, while his characters are more likely to "live in interesting times" than to live "happily ever after." In Stardust, Yvaine is an evening star, thrown from the heavens by a collision with the royal gemstone. She is an archetypal damsel in distress, but demonstrates her mettle and loyalty to her friends over the course of the novel. Yvaine is played in the film adaptation of Stardust by Claire Danes, one of my favorite actresses, who captures both her independence and affectionate nature. She maintains a constant stream of insults at Tristan Thorn (the poor man), but they only cover for the subtle movements of her perception of him, from disgust to genuine affection. The best insults are always the ones that mask true love.

Suzanne tries on her hat in this engraving from
the opening scene of The Marriage of Figaro.
Bonus points if you can guess what Figaro is doing!

9. Suzanne, The Marriage of Figaro

The Marriage of Figaro is the second in a trilogy of plays by Pierre Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais, a watchmaker-spy-playwright of the court of Louis XV. The play was an instant classic: Napoleon later said that the first public performance of The Marriage of Figaro marked the true beginning of the French Revolution. Suzanne is the beloved bride of Figaro and confidante of her lady the Countess, even while her favors are sought by the unfaithful Count. Figaro may be fleet of foot and word, but Suzanne has captured his heart with a wit and vivacity of her own. She even tricks Figaro in the course of the play -- the only one in the trilogy to trick the charming trickster himself. Suzanne is loyal to her love and to her mistress, and one of the most delightful female characters in French literature.

Olga Budina plays Aglaia in the massive 8-hour
Russian mini-series, The Idiot (2003)

8. Aglaia Epanchin, The Idiot

This was a hard one. Prince Myshkin (the eponymous Idiot) is one of the most sympathetic characters ever created by Dostoevsky, but he is unfortunately a guy. He is torn between his romantic love for Aglaia and his divine love for the courtesan Nastasya. Though Aglaia initially mocked the innocent Myshkin, she comes to appreciate the depth of his humility and charity, and associates him with Pushkin's famous poem, "The Poor Knight." Alas, Aglaia is torn by jealousy, and cannot stand the mockery of Nastasya (who seeks to exploit Myshkin's pity to bind him to her). Her fatal flaw is jealousy, and it ultimately consumes her. Yet while the novel lasts she is an immensely attractive and deeply compelling character, perhaps even worthy of the Christ-like Myshkin.

Aravis in storyteller pose, from
an engraving in A Horse and His Boy

7. Aravis Tarkheena, A Horse and His Boy

Aravis was probably my first literary crush. She is a Calormene princess trying to escape an arranged marriage with the detestable Grand Vizier, who falls in with the boy Shasta in his flight to Archenland. A Horse and His Boy is essentially a story about stories, and Aravis fits this mold perfectly, for she is one of the great storytellers in the whole series. Her fatal flaw is hubris, rather befitting a spoiled princess and certainly befitting a representative of the mercurial temperament that Lewis sought to portray. But, thanks to the deep stripes given to her by Aslan, she overcomes that natural vice, and ultimately takes her place as Queen of Archenland.

Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher) waiting  in a Death Star
holding cell in the original 1977 Star Wars.

6. Leia Organa, Star Wars

Our family used to call her "Princess Bagel-Head" after her unusual hair-style in the original Star Wars, but that doesn't do justice to this character. Leia epitomizes so many cliches -- a child of riches fighting the system, a rebel with a heart of gold -- but she defies categorization. She wields a gun, fixes the hyper-drive, and drives Han Solo so crazy with conflicting emotions that he doesn't know what to do with himself. After a brief stint in a metal bra, she also became the first person to successfully assassinate Jabba the Hutt. Yes, there were a few disconcerting moments with her brother, but for those I blame the caprice of George Lucas, not of Leia herself.

Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn and Miranda Otto as Éowyn in
Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings film trilogy.

5. Éowyn, The Lord of the Rings

To quote the Supreme Arbitress of Taste, Éowyn "had the good taste to fall in love with the two noblest men in the book" -- both Aragorn and Faramir. A princess of Rohan, she is told to remain at home while the men ride to Minas Tirith for war. But her flaw is obstinacy, so she disguises herself as a warrior, and rides among the men under the name Dernhelm. This could easily imperil the kingdom, as she was to act as regent and as Queen if the men failed to turn back the tide of Mordor. But "all's well that ends well," for she is the only one on the battlefield able to slay the Witch King of Angmar, and thus it is her presence that turns the tide of battle. Her time recovering from her injuries in the House of Healing also allows her to meet Faramir, who redeems her from her tragic love of Aragorn. She recovers not only from her wounds, but also from her misplaced martial spirit, and by the end of the trilogy she becomes a healer herself.

Jennifer Ehle is the definitive Lizzie in the
landmark 1995 BBC miniseries Pride and Prejudice.

4. Elizabeth Bennett, Pride and Prejudice

This was perhaps an obvious choice: the only question is why she does not rank higher. She is witty, charming, kind, and beautiful. Alas, like Emma from Jane Austen's other well-regarded novel, Lizzie has a degree of pride that is best suited for a similarly strong personality. Perhaps this is why both characters find such perfectly matched husbands: Mr. Darcy and Mr. Knightly are flawed, but their flaws are in a sense parallel to those of their wives.

Avital Dicker plays Sonia in the 2002
film adaptation of Crime and Punishment.

3. Sonya Marmeladova , Crime and Punishment

Sonya (alternately called Sofya and Sonechka) can be read and dismissed as a typical Victorian "angel of the house" who redeems the misanthropic Raskolnikov. I cannot deny that interpretation. But I read her as a much deeper character, daughter of the town drunk whose patience is borne out of suffering and whose hope is quickened by faith. She is the female equivalent of Prince Myshkin, and that is as great a compliment as can be fathomed. Her virtue preserves the last vestiges of virtue within Raskolnikov, a man as far removed from humanity as can be conceived. She triumphs over death and despair by her acts of love; she is no passive angel.

Tilney (J.J. Feild) and Morland (Felicity Jones) ride to
  Beecham Cliff in the 2007 miniseries Northanger Abbey

2. Catherine Morland, Northanger Abbey

Notwithstanding the Supreme Arbitress' distaste for Catherine, I find her as attractive as the best of Austen's heroines. After all, she captures the heart of Henry Tilney, the most charming of all Austen's men, and the one who can pull that off deserves all the praise she receives. Catherine begins the novel a young and impressionable woman, innocent of the world and free from the sort of self-satisfaction that is the flaw of so many of Austen's heroines. Her innocence seems like naïveté, but her words demonstrate a keen awareness of others. She is well-read and (more importantly) eager to learn, a quality supremely attractive to a man like Henry Tilney.

Victoria Smurfit plays Rowena in the
1997 BBC miniseries Ivanhoe

1. Lady Rowena, Ivahoe

I really struggled in deciding between Rowena and Rebecca. Wilfred of Ivanhoe is one of the greatest of literary heroes, and I cannot imagine how he must have been torn between these two noble ladies throwing themselves at him. Rebecca is probably the first unequivocally positive Jewish character in modern literature, and survives with her virtue intact through more trials than faced by any other character in the book. But it should be noted that Rowena was separated from her love for many years prior to the book, but without falling prey to the depressive mood that befits Rebecca's status as a tragic heroine. Rowena is mild-mannered, but demonstrates a considerable backbone to her father in opposing the arranged marriage to Athlestane. More broadly, she is exceedingly fair, pure, loyal to Ivanhoe, and one of the most captivating heroines of literature.

**This is a guest post by Publius, who publishes reviews of books, film and television at the Worthy of Note blog. He loves stories, classical music, and theology (he maintains a theology blog, Orthodox Reflections). He also does graduate work in economics, and is an aspiring lawyer.**

Film Review: Robin and the 7 Hoods (1964)

Frank, Dean, and Sammy share the stage with Bing Crosby,
who steals the show in my favorite Rat Pack picture.

If you're a fan of the Rat Pack, it's impossible to dislike this movie. Frank, Dean, and Sammy sing, and the supporting cast includes Bing Crosby--who nearly steals the show--and Peter Falk (of Columbo fame). Not only that, but the theme of this movie is unique and twistedly appropriate for the stars: a re-telling of Robin Hood set in 1920s Chicago. I hope that piqued your interest, because it's all up from there.

The movie opens with Chicago's current crime boss, Big Jim, being taken out by Guy Guisborne's hit-men. Afterwards we learn that Guisborne (Peter Falk) has cut a deal with the sheriff to get his protection for all the illegal activities in the city, but Guisborne is going to make all the other gangs in the city pay through the nose for this protection. The only one brave enough to stand up to Guisborne is Robbo (Frank Sinatra), the owner of a speakeasy and casino. With the help of his friends Will Scarlet (Sammy Davis, Jr.) and Little John (Dean Martin), Robbo hopes to break up Guisborne's cartel by being the only place in town who can bypass his "protection."

Unfortunately there's an X-factor in this equation in the form of Big Jim's daughter Marian (Barbara Rush), who is not only looking to avenge her father's death but also to take over his empire. When she pays Robbo blood money for a hit he didn't make, he offhandedly tells his men to give it to charity, unaware that this act could have any consequences for him. An itinerant clerk at the charity, however, seizes this opportunity to declare Robbo a modern Robin Hood for giving his ill-gotten gains to the poor. This turns out to be a huge gain for Robbo because as long as he's a public benefactor, Guisborne's mob can't touch him. The trick, therefore, becomes finding a way to blacken Robbo's name.

Apart from having an entertaining plot, this movie succeeds because it has some fabulous musical numbers. Sinatra gets one of his signature songs, "My Kind of Town," Dean Martin croons about loving his mother while playing a mind-bogglingly skilled game of pool, Sammy Davis, Jr. sings and dances with  a couple of machine guns, and Bing Crosby gets one of the most memorable numbers in the show with "Mr. Booze." Atop of all those great performances, though, is "Style" in which Frank and Dean succeed in modernizing Bing's wardrobe, and then the three of them sing together in their tuxes and boaters. I can't say that the number is musically perfect, but just seeing three giants of the recording industry singing a fun tune together is enough to get me any time.

Although this was made to be a Rat Pack vehicle, Bing Crosby is self-deprecatingly hilarious as the dorky Allen A. Dale. Classic Bing cliches pop up such as his inability to dance and the fact that he always gets the girl in the end, and he is also wonderful at being endearingly awkward.

Despite all these pluses, the movie seems to drag at times, especially when Guisborne and Marian are plotting. It's not necessarily that these scenes are bad in themselves, but they're not entertaining enough to merit the time that they take to watch on the screen. Also the opening "All for One" number along with a few others scattered about the show are underwhelming, especially given the high talent level of the performers.



Still in all this movie is a lot of fun, and I would rate it a 7.5 out of 10 for Rat Pack fans at least.

Film Review: Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936)

Jean Arthur begs Gary Cooper to defend his sanity
at a hearing in Frank Capra's Mr. Deeds Goes to Town.

For those of you who saw the remake with Adam Sandler, I am profoundly sorry for you. The original is one of the best works of acclaimed director Frank Capra, starring ("trying hard to look like") Gary Cooper ("super-duper!" *ten points if you can name the song and composer for that lyric. Points will be tallied and a prize given at the end of the year) and Jean Arthur.

Capra was riding high at the time, having swept the Oscars in 1934, but a close brush with death made him re-evaluate the content of his films. He realized that his chosen medium had the power to reach untold millions all over the world, and thus would be a great vehicle for social messages, and from that point on, he tried only to make movies that had strong redeeming value. This was not always possible when funding ran low during and after the Second World War, but Capra stuck to his mantra for the rest of the '30s with the results being this film, Lost Horizon, You Can't Take it With You, and the incomparable Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Mr. Deeds Goes to Town was the first of these ventures, and it made an instant star of Jean Arthur, though no other director could utilize her talents the same way Capra could.

Inspired by classic works like Don Quixote and The Idiot--though thankfully with a happier end than either of those works--Capra tells the story of a small-town businessman and poet who inherits $20 million (that's like a billion dollars in today's money) from his estranged uncle. What Deeds doesn't know is that his uncle's lawyers have been embezzling his money for years, and they want to keep Deeds ignorant of that fact. At first this looks like an easy task because the country boy seems naive and completely uninterested in the money, saying he'll probably give it away.

When Deeds is whisked away to the bustle and glamor of New York, he begins to forget about his idea for putting the money to a good cause, especially when he has the opportunity to rescue a damsel in distress (which is a musical from 1937 starring Fred Astaire, Joan Fontaine, George Burns and Gracie Allen, with a screenplay by P.G. Wodehouse and music by Gershwin. It's not wonderful, but worth watching if you're a fan of any of the above, and especially worthwhile if you're fans of ALL of the above as I am.) just as he's always dreamed of doing.

This fair lady, however, is not the innocent he imagines. She is in reality Babe Bennet, a star reporter trying to get the scoop on New York's newest millionaire, and she succeeds with flying colors. As her scorching articles continue to drag Deed's name through the mud, he becomes more and more embittered, finding solace only in the company of the very woman who is betraying him. As jaded as Babe is, however, she cannot help noticing that Deeds possesses a good mind along with an admirable sincerity and selflessness that most New Yorkers lack. As she slowly succumbs to his quiet charms, she has increasing difficulty writing her articles, and eventually quits her job entirely. Just when it looks like the two of them can have a happy ending, however, the truth comes out about Babe's past actions.

Devastated by the loss of the woman he loved, Deeds is saved from despair by a chance encounter with the terrible conditions of the Great Depression. He revives his plan to give all his money away, coming up with an idea to build small homesteads for farmers who lost everything during the Dust Bowl fiasco.

As soon as his uncle's lawyers hear about this, however, they swear out an insanity warrant against Deeds. With all his irregular behavior, moreover, the lawyers seem to have an open-and-shut case until Deeds gets up to "put in his two cents" in one of the most memorable scenes in cinematic history.

Really, the only problem with this film is that the music feels stilted and vaudevillian, just as most movies from the '30s do. I'm not saying it entirely ruins the mood of the picture, but it certainly detracts from it instead of augmenting it as is the intent of music in films.


I give this film at least 8.7 out of ten, truly one for the ages.

Buy it now:
Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (Remastered),Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Lost Horizon, You Can't Take It with You (Remastered), Don Quixote (Penguin Classics), The Idiot (Oxford World's Classics)