Elaine May’s 1971 film closes our month of screwball comedies
Two Cents is a Cinapse original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team curates the series and contribute their “two cents” using a maximum of 200-400 words. Guest contributors and comments are encouraged, as are suggestions for future picks. Join us as we share our two cents on films we love, films we are curious about, and films we believe merit some discussion. Would you like to be a guest contributor or programmer for an upcoming Two Cents entry? Simply watch along with us and/or send your pitches or 200-400 word reviews to [email protected].
The Pick: A New Leaf (1971)
We end our month of screwball comedies with Elaine May’s dark comedy about the lengths one man will go to to keep his luxurious lifestyle. Walter Matthau and May herself star as the mismatched couple at its center. The final cut of the film may not be what May would have preferred (her initial version had more murders), but it remains a sweet and hilarious romance.
The Team
I find something new to appreciate about Elaine May’s directorial debut with each viewing. Her 1971 black comedy stars Walter Matthau as Henry Graham, a bachelor who has recently exhausted his trust fund. With no bankable skills or talents, his future looks doubtful. “All I am, or was, is rich,” he sorrowfully admits to his valet Harold (George Rose, Hawaii). After Harold recommends he find a wealthy woman to marry, Henry plans to do just that… but then kill his wife. Klutzy botanist Henrietta (May, who also adapted the screenplay) appears the perfect mark.
Like the other screwball comedies we’ve seen this month, A New Leaf pokes fun at the rich, delivers plenty of laughs and offers many visual gags. The scene from their honeymoon with Henry in the foreground reading a book of poisons while Henrietta, in the background, digs up a fern from a precarious perch is utter perfection. There are the extra comedic touches, like the gloves Henrietta always carries or her messy tendencies exhibited via a crumb-filled lap shown as a dinner table is pulled away.
May’s film is a showcase for Matthau. His Henry grows in such a way that his affection for a woman he called a “menace” earlier in the film appears a natural progression. We see his care for the intelligent but naive Henrietta in little ways, helping her adjust a Grecian nightgown, clipping the tags on her new clothes, and pulling fuzz out of her hair. He kicks out the lazy staff (including housekeeper Doris Roberts) who’d long taken advantage of Henrietta’s easygoing nature. But even after this, when a chance to murder his new wife comes up, will he take it?
A New Leaf is so sharply written that we can’t be certain what Henry will do. It might be nice to watch May’s original director’s cut of her film (if that were an option), but the version we have is smart and hilarious as is. There’s an exasperated tenderness to Matthau’s role in this movie that is unlike anything else I’ve seen him in.
A New Leaf remains a comedic gem of a movie, and one of the most underrated directorial debuts of all time. Originally only wanting to be in charge of screenwriting duties, Elaine May was more or less forced into directing and starring as a way to get the approval she wanted. The experience resulted in the novice director going over budget, turning in a three-hour cut that was edited down into its current version, with no prints of the original cut in existence. All of it culminated in a suit brought on by May against the studio.
Although I had seen A New Leaf before, watching the film this time around with the knowledge of this, it’s still hard to picture a better version of May’s film. In fact, it’s a testament to May that, despite studio interference of the worst kind, A New Leaf was such a great film that it was able to withstand the kind of hacking that has doomed so many other titles.
It’s hard to pick just one moment from the film that emerges as my favorite. There’s Walter Matthau’s proposal while kneeling on broken glass, James Coco’s insufferable uncle, Matthau being incredibly suspicious of the little girl, or May’s character asking for a straw to have with her wine. Each scene is funnier than the last thanks to the triple threat May showed herself to be and to a game Matthau, who turns in the most fun performance of his career. Although wonderfully dark and cynical in the beginning, the softness of A New Leaf is a real surprise; not in terms of plot, but in terms of emotional effectiveness. The scene where May’s character brings the news of the plant she’s successfully classified means little to Matthau until she says its being classified under his name as a gesture of love. It’s a tender moment made even more poignant by the way Matthau’s character works so hard to resist it.
Not everyone might buy the turn Matthau’s character supposedly makes at the end of the film as actually genuine, but May’s writing, their performances, and the way she crafts the moment is enough to let me believe it. May hasn’t stepped behind the camera since the late ’80s, but A New Leaf is a legacy all its own, one which May can be rightfully proud of.
Welp, 4 weeks of screwball comedies, and I think I fell the most in love with the final one here. What an absolutely charming film that is perfectly able to shift from a pretty broad fish-out-of-water (the water being the dating pool) comedy into a surprisingly pitch black comedy, before rounding into what might be the sweetest onscreen representation of settling into life with a loved one.
Walter Matthau, a man who seemingly could do it all, plays Henry Graham, the ultimate lazy rich kid; a man of literally zero skill or personality, who only cares about the next dollar he can spend. After burning through the entirety of his wealth, he sets his sights on finding a wife, and then, a way to kill her quietly, and go back to his life of lavish solitude.
What he finds instead is Henrietta Lowell, played by Elaine May (who takes on the triple role here of lead actress, writer and director); an incredibly rich woman lost in her own world, who has only found purpose in categorizing ferns. Thus begins the courtship, and planned downfall, of their happily ever after.
There is a lot of great screwball humor in here (and what I think might be the best aside joke of all time; the Boston Hitlers), but, if I have to be honest, what really won me over was the budding romance.
I was struck by how the characters transform themselves for each other. We watch, very subtly, as Henry becomes a more focused and determined man, continuously learning and improving himself. Consciously, it is all for the purpose of getting back his posh lifestyle. Unconsciously, he is becoming the man that Henrietta needs in her life. Henrietta, on the other hand, becomes a more confident and courageous person. We watch as she slowly shifts out of her slouch, as she smiles more, and as she takes more risks to achieve her dreams; becoming the woman that she believes Henry can be proud of.
By film’s end, this quiet courtship becomes more pronounced, as Henrietta names her fern, her dream, after Henry, giving him a token; a leaf of the fern in a cast, to wear around his neck. After a canoe trip goes wrong, and Henry thinks he’s finally found his exit, he realizes he has lost his token, and looking back towards the river, realizes he needs to retrieve his true token; Henrietta.
After he pulls her from the river, they sit on the rocks, talking about their future. There is this warmth that exudes from both of them, as they talk about their new reality, about their news lives, settling in together. As someone who can remember those same moments with my wife, those quiet moments of planning our lives, I couldn’t help but get a bit choked up, watching this beautiful vision of love on screen.
And that’s how I end this month’s series; with a big dumb, goofy smile on my face, as Matthau and May walk into the sunset talking about grading term papers.
Guest:
Elaine May’s genius lies in her ability to skewer human flaws with a comedic precision so sharp it leaves you laughing and wincing at the same time. Elaine May is unmatched in her ability to depict male fragility with such ironclad comedic conviction that she refuses to judge—or soften—her characters. This boldness feels daring and revolutionary, the kind of genius that deserves to be shouted from mountaintops. It’s no exaggeration to say that without Elaine May’s sadly brief filmography, we might not have Seinfeld, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Uncut Gems, Nora Ephron’s rom-coms, Christopher Guest’s mockumentaries, The Office (UK), Borat, and so much more.
Despite her massive influence, May’s first two features—A New Leaf and The Heartbreak Kid—remain underappreciated in the canon of 1970s cinema. Both films revolve around married men clawing desperately to escape their supposed happily-ever-afters. The Heartbreak Kid may be one of the most brutally honest romantic comedies ever made, while A New Leaf, May’s directorial debut, is an eccentric, morbid screwball farce.
In A New Leaf, Walter Matthau plays a narcissistic, self-loathing, sociopathic playboy who only cares about his precious sports car—until he spends all his money. To avoid working for a living, he hatches a scheme to marry and murder a wealthy, clumsy woman (played by May herself). However, as he grudgingly begins organizing her chaotic life and even cooking for her, he discovers an unexpected, reluctant affection—though his murderous plans never entirely leave his mind.
May’s original cut of A New Leaf was reportedly three hours longer and included Matthau’s character committing multiple murders. While the final cut was compromised, the result still feels like pure cinema. May’s performance is both awkwardly funny and heartbreakingly earnest, showcasing Chaplin-esque physical comedy in her clumsiness. This, in turn, heightens Matthau’s cruelty and incompetence, creating a darkly charming comedic cocktail. It’s a tremendous comedy with uniquely sharp sensibilities.
A New Leaf balances depravity, tragedy, humor, absurdity, and unexpected warmth, all with a deceptively light touch. It’s a paradoxical romantic screwball comedy that only pales in comparison to May’s next two films—both undisputed masterpieces of the 1970s. But as it stands, A New Leaf is an absolute must-see and a remarkable directorial debut by Elaine May.
Join us for Two Cents in February when we celebrate the works of filmmaker David Lynch.
