Sunday, July 1, 2012

Detour (not really) - The Music in "Unfinished Business"

"I Love Thee.."

How the music in "Unfinished Business" is handled deserves some extra annotations which would have gone beyond the scope of a normal review.

Irene and her character Nancy have something in common - their wish for an opera career. 
On-screen, Irene was two-times presented as an opera singer, at first in "The Great Lover"(1931) and the second time in "Stingaree" (1934). Especially interesting for the choice of music in "Unfinished Business" is the "Great Lover." I can't imagine that the selected repertory was a coincidence because it's a "Dunne qoute." Irene gets to sing "I Love Thee" a song by Edvard Grieg in the opening sequence of "Unfinished Business" which is paralled by a rehearsal with baritone Jean Paurel (Adolphe Menjou) in "The Great Lover." Here Irene performed - fitting to the scenery - a way more operatic rendition of the Grieg and sung it higher. 

"Voi, che sapete..."

In the audition scene of "Unfinished Business" - obviously on a real stage and with opera in mind - Irene is presented with "Voi, che sapete" Cherubino's aria from Mozart's "Le Nozze di Figaro." This aria is beautiful but not really catchy and a typical piece of music for beginners - not exactly a good choice to show your voice at an audition. Over and above she is contrasted by a coloratura soprano who starts - out of all thinkable options -  with a remarkable interpretation of the "Shadow Song" from Meyerbeer's "Dinorah." Coloratura soprano was the fach Irene studied at the Chicago College of Music, and, well, her choice for the college's annual contest was the "Shadow Song." Irene remembered this event in 1985 like this: "I was one of the three competiting medalists and sang 'The Shadow Song' from 'Dinorah.' When I hear it performed today, I can't believe I sang it because it's so coloratura."
With those brilliant coloraturas in the background, Nancy gets the following advice by her agent - "Don't be discouraged. There are a lot of places for your type of voice..." Finding those "places" was precisely what Irene Dunne did in real life.

a lot of places....

However, the next scene shows Nancy only as a singing telephone operator  which is almost a little bit fresh but very funny. This humor works because Irene could really sing - for the public in this era she was a long established singer -  and could have done better than this anytime. Thanks to the fan magazines the public knew something about the background of their stars and as for Irene a couple of years rumors about an alleged season at the MET were around. 
Those correlations between on- and off-screen are a steady, striking element in Old Hollywood films, and one reason why I love the movies of this era so very much. 
"Unfinished Business" is a wonderful example for this method of work - Old Hollywood at its best!

And here is the music!

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Unfinished Business

Irene as Nancy Andrews Duncan

Release date 09.12.1941

"You see, Tommy, you just won't understand that in the lifes of all women there's some unfinished business. Don't ask me why. Is that clear?"
"No!"

After marrying off the sister she raised, Nancy (Irene) decides that's her turn now and that she won't stick to the plans her family made for her. It's about time for some adventure in the big city. Hoping for a singing career, Nancy leaves her hometown Massina, Ohio, for New York. On the train she meets wealthy playboy Steve Duncan (Preston Foster). Steve has a nice little 50-bucks-bet running with his buddy - who will pick up the more beautiful girl on the train - and Nancy just comes in handy. Despite Steve's obvious line she soon surrenders to his kisses ... 

No Little Red Riding Hood but Redhead and the Wolf
(wolf at work)

Well, the next morning Steve hopes that he would get away without having to talk to her but gets trapped.
S: "I'll give you a call..."
N: "You won't forget?"
S: "What do you think?"
N: "I love you!"

The end of the affair...

The next weeks bring two revelations for our small town girl: Steve won't call, and her voice isn't trained enough for an opera career. The only job Nancy lands is as singing telephone operator at a nightclub. An accidental meeting with Steve and his fiancée at the club ends with tears for Nancy. Not knowing why she is so upset, Steve's brother, Tom (Robert Montgomery) tries to comfort her. Tom is a boozer, a good-for-nothing fellow feeling overshadowed by his older brother but nonetheless a nice guy. At the night of Steve's wedding Tom and Nancy get terribly drunk and not so terribly married with Tom still not knowing about the train fling between his brother and his bride.

Tommie and Nancy on their way to marriage...

 Get this down!

The main occupation of the young couple during the next time is frequenting nightclubs and showing socially not accepted behaviour but one evening they strand at the domiciliary grand piano with Nancy fulfilling Tom's request for "When You and I Were Young, Maggie." Tommy has it bad; despite their original intentions he has fallen in love with his wife. Nancy - though not totally over her feelings for Steve - isn't immune to his confession and starts to show some wifely qualities.

The Duncans - this time sober and happy

All of this could end as a strangely started "nice boy meets nice girl" story if Tommy wouldn't have the idea to invite some family and friends for dinner. Nancy trying to find a sort of closure for her "unfinished business" kisses brother Steve which observed by Tommy's former girlfriend arouses a lot of attention at the party. The unfinished business is still unfinished, and perhaps it never will be finalized ...

Not such a good idea...

"Unfinished Business" is an underestimated little gem - an intelligent, very "adult" movie which switches between different genres. It's not a real comedy but witty and funny in between, and it's too funny and witty to be called a drama. The person who makes this hybrid of a film mainly work is Irene Dunne. Her Nancy is quite a character - naive, a person with an agenda of her own, not exactly flawless, with pathetic moments but in the final analysis blessed with an amiable down-to-earth quality. Nice stuff for an actress who was not only the mistress of the melodrama but also the queen of the comedy timing. Miss Dunne gets the chance to show a lot of facets - including her singing voice - and as you ought to know by now, La Dunne was no diamond in the rough; she knew how to glitter exquisitely.

Fitting background for Li'l Diamond
(publicity from 1941)

The film doesn't beat around the bush - small town girl was seduced in the train. Listening to Irene's "I love you..." the next morning you simply know that this night was not merely about holding hands (btw after the "wedding night" in "Penny Serenade" the second sexual encounter in a train in a row.Of course we don't get to see anything but the stopping down to the moving wheels of the train symbolizes the "forces at work") The plot is unusual for a film of this era because small town girl is not punished for her one night stand; she doesn't get pregnant, doesn't die, doesn't lose her rich husband but she moves on and even gets to terms with the nice guy in the end. Every time when you have the feeling that you are on the steady course of a Hollywood story, "Unfinished Business" steers in an unexpected direction. Or was stupid me the only one thinking that we were heading in the direction of a glamorous career as nightclub singer when Nancy-Irene was invited to audition? Instead she gets to "rehearse" a jingle and stupid me almost died laughing. Of course this hilarious scene only works because Irene Dunne really could sing. "Unfinished Business" boldly takes advantage of Irene's off- and on-screen image; plays around with it and spoofs it which is a lot of fun for folks with some Dunne knowledge.   

La Diva rehearsing a jingle - one of those great LaCava frames
(and look out for what Irene does in the background during this scene... )

But let's talk about the source for some unfinished business in Nancy's life,  the males.
Preston Foster is okay for me - no less, no more. I don't find him overwhelming attractive but that mirrors nicely how desperate Irene's character is for some, any kind of romance in her life. "Steve" is a rather ungrateful part with not much to do except being quite unsympathetic - a not overly interesting "wolf."
Robert Montgomery is another league but I had to acquire a taste for his acting. Considering the fact that he worked frequently with all my favorite MGM gals I just didn't get around the guy and finally developed a real liking for him. Nowadays his presence is a convincing reason to watch a film. "Tom" is a sort of typical Bob Montgomery role - he was always good at portraying frivolousness with an option for seriousness - and he creates a complex character who manages to finish some issues of his own. He and his co-star have some wonderful scenes together which show how impressive underacting can be. Kindly enough, Robert Mongomery has a very competent valet at his side embodied by character actor Eugene Pallette who gives a great performance as "butler Elmer."

La Dunne with Eugene Pallette - this was the last time that Irene smoked on-screen.
(Elmer and me don't like that hat!)

"Unfinished Business" is based on an original story by director Gregory LaCava. He not only leaves room for his story and his actors but manages remarkable staging. Especially the scenes which change between privateness and public - in the restaurant with the silver wedding anniversary in the background, the party at the Duncan's or the nightclub scenery for instance - are very well done. To figure on the player's personality was a typical LaCava method of work which explains the Dunne tailored tidbits. As for Robert Montgomery, they had to start filming earlier because of his commitment to active service in the U.S. Navy; and once again art imitates life! If those tidbits are the "LaCava touch", I certainly appreciate this approach.

Cheers! Almost done! 
(and Mr. Montgomery really deserved another pic...)

An intelligent, unusual story, great actors, remarkable directing, an in all her facets glittering Irene and music - that's the Dunne formula which makes me happy!

Cheerio!

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Penny Serenade

La Dunne as Julie Gardiner Adams 

Release date 04.24.1941

"... for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

At the brink of leaving her husband, newspaper man Roger Adams (Cary Grant), Julie (Irene) starts listening to records they collected through the years. Each song reminds her of a stage of their life together...

first encounter...

courtship...

marriage...

telling Roger the good news...

an earthquake and...

miscarriage and childlessness...

talking about adoption...

the first time meeting Trina ... 

at last the adoption becomes final...

happy times with Trina...

 and wordless after the blow of fate...

After these reminiscences we are back in the somber here and now with Julie waiting for old friend Applejack (Edgar Buchanan) to take her to the train. But when Roger comes home, it's obvious that they are not yet finished with each other, and maybe they'll get another chance...

The story of "Penny Serenade" radiates amiable normality. This is how life goes: happy and funny, sad and tragic, with lighthearted times and periods in which we get a lot more than we bargained for. Simply for a change it's nice that we are not with the rich folks, but with common people struggling financially. As much as I like the main part of this plot, I simply love how exemplary well filmed it is. What a gifted team and what a wonderful result!
A bunch of laurels - or more appropriate a bay wreath - goes to director George Stevens and cinematographer Joseph Walker. According to Irene, Stevens was a perfectionist who prepared meticulously each scene with his crew but did not need many takes. This precision and attention to details become apparent in the most interesting perspectives. 
One example is the scene in the train. At first we don't follow the newlyweds into the compartment. The door is half-closed, and we are in the situation of an almost voyeuristic onlooker which gives this scene intimacy and eroticism.

They are in, and we are out where we belong...

I slightly regret that we are allowed to enter the room now, but the whole mise-on-scène is a convincing proof why Old Hollywood didn't need nakedness to picture sexuality - of course allowed, marriage blessed  post-code sexuality. For all of us who didn't get that they did not solely hold hands on the train, we learn in one of  the next scenes that Julie is pregnant. Though our couple did not manage a honeymoon trip because of Roger's professional obligations they indeed succeeded in a partial wedding night - 100 miles long that is.

the end of the "wedding record"

Another of my favorite scenes is of course the first night as parents - have a look at how the doors between the two rooms are used as props here - and I'd like to add the scenery when they prepare for the legal adoption assuming that they'll lose Trina. Stevens keeps us consequently at a distance utilizing an angle from the stairs which only shows moving legs. All are very busy packing Trina's things; we don't see their faces, but only moments later we are confronted with Irene's face in close-ups. She runs to the window, and while    we can't see what's happening outside, her face tells the sad story of her daughter's departure. 



Did I ever tell you that I am very appreciative of Irene Dunne?

This mixture of distance and nearness is utterly effective. Moreover, cameraman Walker spoils us with a lot of beautifully photographed close-ups - which made selecting the screenshots for my Irene Dunne site a real difficult task. 

Did I ever tell you that I have a weakness for close-ups of Irene Dunne? 

I already gushed a lot about Cary and Irene - or Irene and Cary - and I certainly could go on about their performances in "Penny Serenade."
Grant's gained him his first Academy Award nomination, and the scene with the judge surely provides some of the most remarkable Cary Grant onscreen minutes. The guy really touched me, made me laugh, and convinced me completely in the whole rest of the story. Is there anything else I could expect from an actor?

The magnificent Mr. Grant really deserves a pic of his own. The close-ups were mainly reserved for Miss Dunne though. She had first billing, you know...

The idea of music as the golden threat for this story is not only a structure after my own heart, but gives Irene the opportunity to foreshadow each episode. These are the perfect moments for this fine-tuned actress with her expressive face. She and Cary Grant - both more on the restraint side of acting - avoid any maudlin. This story could have been a  rich source of schmaltz but what "Penny Serenade" offers is beautiful sentiment. 
Edgar Buchanan has some great scenes as Applejack - the nicest of scene-stealer's -and Beulah Bondi as head of the adoption agency throws in another solid performance. Maybe they could have found a better child actress for "Trina, age six" (Eva Lee Kuney), someone with a more convincing smile would have been nice. This fake of a grin looks scary, little Eva!

Mr. Buchanan at work...(and this is a typical ID gesture)

Up to this point I am really happy with this film, but here comes a personal difficulty. Normally, I don't watch the last minutes of "Penny Serenade" because I can't stand this phony Happy End. To "replace" one kid by another, and the assumption that this would "solve" all problems simply gives me the creeps. We just followed Julie and Roger for about two hours, learned that they were "meant for each other" (to stick to the songs), and when they start doing what they should have done a couple of days earlier - talk and share their loss and pain - the darn telephone rings and Miss Oliver (Beulah Bondi) offers a blond boy. Oh dear! 
I would have preferred a semi-open end; they start talking, descend the stairs, leaving us without any easy way out but with the awareness that they are once again on their way - together.
Well, as long as all I need to get my personal version is the stop button, that can't be a real problem, right?

The End à la Susanne

Monday, February 27, 2012

My Favorite Wife


Our magnificent leads in a publicity clinch   

Release date 05.17.1940

"Oh, by the way... how was my funeral?"
"Lovely! Dr. Blake preached a wonderful sermon."
"Oh, I wish I've been there!"

After seven years, Nick Arden (Cary Grant) has his wife Ellen (Irene) who allegedly drowned at sea declared legally dead because he wants to marry Bianca (Gail Patrick). Shipwrecked and by an off course boat rescued Ellen returns just in time to thwart the honeymoon. She follows the newlyweds in their hotel and as soon as Nick lays his eyes on her again he is sure that she is still the one and only. 

Who on earth is Bianca??

But how to break the news to Bianca who is preparing for the wedding night upstairs? "Sorry, marriage is off!" probably won't do ... poor Nick wanting to do the right thing for everybody just doesn't come around to utter the adequate words. Ellen decides to give him some more time and to billet on her own family as an "old friend from the South." 

"Hey Nicolas, honey!"

This not only gives her the opportunity to keep an eye on Nick and Bianca but to get acquainted with her two kids who are too young to remember her. When the right time comes, she'll tell Tim (Scotty Beckett) and Cinch (Mary Lou Harrington) that she is their mother. 
Probably even this confusing situation would be settled soon, if Nick wouldn't learn that Ellen was not alone on her island. She was kept company by handsome Stephen Burkett (Randolph Scott) - quite an "Adam" to Ellen's "Eve". The second round in the battle of sexes begins ... 

Adam, Eve and Nick

"My Favorite Wife" always does the trick for me - it makes me laugh and puts me in a light-hearted mood, which is certainly something very nice and pleasant to write about a film . The story is not exactly believable - not even Irene Dunne would look like Irene Dunne anymore after seven years on a desolate island, especially considering Irene's delicate skin - and Nick's and Bianca's relationship is kind of odd from the beginning. That guy doesn't have to think for a second to give her the boots, but, well , if somebody can make this plausible, it's Irene Dunne! However, this rather silly story provides the most wonderful vehicle for all kind of absurd, madcap situations, is nicely spiced with slapstick elements and handled by a cast in a genial mood. 

The radiant Irene

According to La Dunne, the idea behind "My Favorite Wife" was a sort of sequel to "The Awful Truth" which makes absolute sense and turns the last ten minutes when Irene once again ends seductively lolling in bed into an appropriate quotation. Because of an accident Leo McCarey was not in charge of the direction - this task went to the more than capable Garson Kanin - but produced "My Favorite Wife" and was in general around. Though not as sophisticated as its predecessor - the dialogue in "The Awful Truth" is simply wittier - they are both obviously products of the same spirit. 
Thus our protagonists pick up where they left off; mumbling there, come-hither glances here, repartee back and forth, long talk short - onscreen chemistry in full swing. No wonder Cary Grant described acting with Irene Dunne more like a long flirtation than work.

Well, we already know each other...

One Cary Grant mystery for me is that he stumbles from one ridiculous situation into the other without ultimately making a fool of himself; the entire time he is still absolutely attractive, adorable and no irritation arouses why Ellen wants her hubby urgently back, although he's a little bit slow and complicated about the "Bianca issue". That Nicky beats her with her own weapons and gets her eventually with a laugh leads to a nice tied game, and they end in the room in which direction they were moving all along - the bedroom.

Let's be serious about life...

Irene has a field day as Ellen Arden jumping on the sofa for a "how to tell Bianca" rehearsal - one of my favorite scenes - parading her thick Southern accent, and ogling Cary's Nick - this intelligent and sexy lady knows how to handle the male species! Quite wonderful about Irene's presentation is that she consequently seems to share her amusement with us. She had anyway a tendency to "tongue in cheek" performances - something which was not always appreciated by the critics, but an important reason why I love actress Dunne - and Irene's Ellen is the mistress of this tone. She obviously enjoys the situation - at least partly - which makes us accomplices because we share some fun while the other parties concerned still have to fight  the absurdity of life. When the script asks for some sentiment - for instance the scene in which Ellen tells her kids about her true identity - Irene quickly switches back to the general mood which defines her characterization. Her Ellen embraces the absurdity of her situation and laughs about it, which is almost irresistible. Anyhow, who does not want to share complicity with Miss Dunne? 

...but not heavy about it!

Beyond enjoying the cooperation with Cary Grant and Leo McCarey, Irene had another valuable reason to like this film - and as we know by now, she was a little bit particular about her pictures - but this one made her list because she liked the performances of the bit players. Especially the hotel clerk (Donald MacBride), the judge (Granville Bates) and the little shoe salesman (Chester Clute) create real showpieces. Their roles are almost more grateful than the parts of Gail Patrick and Randolph Scott, and if I regret anything about this film, it's the fact that two scenes were cut that probably would have been a chance for these two actors to show some more of their competent presence.

 Okay, Irene, you got me! Once again!!

"My Favorite Wife" this most delightful "prelude to a kiss" is one of my Dunne favorites and I bet this statement just took you entirely by surprise! 

Monday, November 21, 2011

When Tomorrow Comes

Irene gone with the wind - we're still in 1939 - in
 "When Tomorrow Comes"           

Release date 08.11.1939

"I'm not bitter... I just feel sort of numb in here."

Another workday at one of the common restaurants in New York; waitress Helen (Irene) and her co-workers are busy with lunch hour. The girls are a little bit nervous because of an Union meeting in the evening and a possible upcoming strike. Helen - herself left-wing oriented - tries to calm them down. One of the diners that day is Frenchman Philip (Charles Boyer) who immediately attracted to Helen follows her to the Union meeting.

For once, Irene takes Charles' order...

Helen speaks at the gathering, and manages to convince the other waitresses to strike. Philip introducing himself simply as a pianist - Helen assumes that he plays somewhere in a bar and has a similar background  like herself - walks Helen home, and persuades her to jaunt with him the next day.
The trip starts nicely and comfortably on a boat with a picnic lunch from the Ritz but soon a storm comes up  and the couple is forced to take refuge in Philip's Long Island house. Helen quickly discovers that Philip is not only the wealthy owner of this mansion but the famous pianist Philip Andre Chagal - and, well, he is married. Despite the hurricane outside and the seductive fireplace atmosphere inside, Helen begs Philip to drive her back to town , after he kissed her.

The storm is not what I am afraid of...

And then a tree falls atop of the car, and they have to look for shelter in a church, and then they think they'll drown, but they don't and are rescued the next morning and then Philip tells Helen that he is desperately in love with her. And then on their way back to New York they meet Philip's wife Madeline (Barbara O'Neil), who turns out to be mentally disturbed. And then Helen sends Philip away, and then Philip returns and tells her that he can't give her up. And then Philip's wife turns up at Helen's threshold and pleads her case - "I am mentally ill, but not all the time, and I am helpless, and won't you give up Philip?" And then Helen dines the last - no it's the first time - with Philip and decides to send him alone to Paris, and then Philip leaves...

The first/last dinner...

Okay, I admit my recount of this storyline is a little bit flippant, but when I first watched this film I felt dissapointed and this feeling still lingers on. What a waste of talent and opportunities! "When Tomorrow Comes" was based on an unpublished story by James M. Cain, and after I read the not until 1951 published novel, I assume that Cain was the reason why this movie starts so promising. Irene as a waitress with communist leanings, delivering a rousing speech at an Union meeting is an interesting change of path for her; and Charles Boyer as leading man and John M. Stahl as director - how exciting! My expectations were fulfilled in the first 40 minutes and then a storm comes up and in a jiffy I end up with a drab love story at my hands. Why didn't they stick to "The Modern Cinderella" - so the working title - story? 

"Modern Cinderella" beaming

The exit of the Cinderella still could have worked if the love story which uses all kind of dramatic situations as aids - storm, water, toppling trees, and even a mental case - wouldn't hesitate every time drama really tries to take its toll. For instance, this scenery in the church - our protagonists just narrowly escaped death, water is streaming into their shelter, and they start talking about the end of the world... their love is anyway ill-starred, maybe they are facing death, one way or the other those are their last hours together, and all they can think about is taking a nap?? Of course, Irene making herself comfortable on/at Charles is nice  to watch, but after I schlepped through this scenery of elementary forces I am in the mood for some drama or let's just say some heart-to-heart talk. I'm defenitely not in for a snooze, especially not with Irene and Charles around! 

I have to admit, this looks cosy...

The story as a whole is so patchy, as if different writers wrote each one scene only vaguely telling each other what happened beforehand. When the nutty wife turned up, I knew I would not even get a happy end.  Old Hollywood husbands plain and simple don't leave their psychologically unstable wives. This is sort of reassuring - at least for the deranged  females - but Philip's Missis seems to be of the dangerous kind. In the scene with Helen Madeline comes across as manipulative and creepy. What is she going to do next? Burn the house down?? Barbara O'Neil played her so spookily, that she managed to distract me from Irene - and this is really something!

Irene with scene stealer - according to Irene adding some needed pep - Barbara O'Neil

Naturally, my lament is complaining on a high level. Everything but this uneven story is beautiful. Irene and Charles Boyer create together a glowing onscreen presence as if they'd increase each other, and director John M. Stahl obviously knew what he was doing. Especially the beginning - I admire how we "walk" into the story - and the last minutes - a wonderful example of Dunne/Boyer underacting - are outstanding. 
I am well aware that the sources of my irritation are probably censorship and Irene's onscreen persona - who would be interested to elaborate on a tough cookie/Union girl image for her? - but this time my knowledge does not help. "When Tomorrow Comes" simply doesn't ring true for me; an accumulation of pleasant to watch screen moments sums up to a movie I don't really like. At least, I am in good company; Irene didn't like this picture, too, kind of "Dunne like" not exactly telling why but her vagueness echoes my uncomfortable feelings about this film. Miss Dunne gets the last word (interview with James Harvey, 1978):

I can't help it. 

JH: But you didn't enjoy making When Tomorrow Comes, the Stahl film with Boyer?
ID: No, I didn't. It's quite a nice way I have, isn't it, of blocking things out I don't like to remember?... I only remember one scene in that film... we were caught in a storm -- in a church choir?
JH: Yes, it's a strange scene.
ID: And he was a pianist -- or I was?
JH: He was. (I laugh)
ID: Yes, I remember him sitting at the piano... and was I a waitress?
JH: Yes, you were a waitress.
ID: I remember those early scenes, yes.
JH: You were very good in them, too. (She looks at me dryly, I laugh)
ID: (softly) I can't imagine that I was good in that.
JH: Really? Why not?
ID: Well... I don't know. I didn't like it. 
JH: And even working with Boyer didn't help?
ID: Not in that.
JH: Did he dislike it, too?
ID: I don't think he liked it very much...