Our month of screwball comedies begins with the 1936 film starring William Powell as a homeless man turned butler (who is not what he seems)
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: My Man Godfrey (1936)
My Man Godfrey came first to mind after I suggested a month of screwball comedies as a Two Cents theme. The classic romantic comedy stars former spouses William Powell (The Thin Man) and Carole Lombard (Nothing Sacred) as a homeless man turned butler and the dotty heiress who falls for him. Gregory La Cava’s film was one of the earliest to receive Oscar noms in all acting categories (Director and Screenplay, too) without receiving a Best Picture nomination. The talented performers make it seem effortless, but there’s a real craft evident in the construction of this film. With the class differences involved in the romance at its center and the quick patter of the dialogue, it’s an excellent example of the screwball genre. – Elizabeth Stoddard
The Team
My Man Godfrey has long been a personal favorite. I own the Criterion Blu-ray now, but I once had it on a videotape I’d recorded off either AMC or TCM back in high school. An impressive combination of factors makes the classic movie the masterwork it is. There’s the impeccable casting, the set design, the biting, laugh-out-loud humor of the script, and the talented film-making team which put it all together, led by director Gregory La Cava.
Leading man William Powell gamely plays straight man Godfrey, a homeless man from privileged beginnings, to contrast with the zaniness of the ridiculously wealthy Bullocks who hire him as a butler. Alice Brady is utter perfection as the flighty matriarch who lives in her own world while supporting “artist” Carlo (Mischa Auer), her protégé who lives off the largess of the family. The Bullock sisters tend to spar with each other; Gail Patrick’s Cordelia is a cruel young woman who aims to get Godfrey out of the house, while Carole Lombard’s spacey Irene hopes to win his heart.
In La Cava’s film, the rich folks are portrayed as blithe nitwits while the down-on-their-luck men living at the dump are witty and wise. Godfrey’s friend Tommy (Alan Mowbray) is the exception to this rule, as his plans with Godfrey straddle both worlds. Sure, the story is ridiculous, but upon the utter madness of the scavenger hunt which opens the film, the audience is removed from the drudgery of our everyday life and transported into the opulence of the Bullock home. And the comic timing! There’s so much silliness to appreciate here, along with a dialogue delivered in a magical rhythm.
The Depression-era work is of its time, and yet timeless in the laughter it brings and the talent it showcases. Even the social issues it touches on remain relevant, from the lack of affordable housing and need for supportive services to the tendency of the ultra rich to detach from reality. My Man Godfrey remains an utter joy to watch.
My Man Godfrey continues its reign as the quintessential classic screwball comedy. Last year, I got the chance to review the 1957 remake starring David Niven and June Allyson, which was an amusing affair, mainly because the original story itself was a real winner with the ability to transfer through the decades. It had been years since I’d watched the original film, nearly 20 in fact. Unsurprisingly, it holds up.
My Man Godfrey remains the perfect blueprint for the screwball comedy, with elements of farce and multiple bits of innuendo coming at the audience every which way. The timing remains pitch perfect with just the right amount of story being packed into the most efficient 90 minutes ever filmed. The colorful collection of actors are given room to make an impression with their characters, all of which become indispensable while the dialogue makes My Man Godfrey’s script one of the finest comedic screenplays to date, boasting such gems as: “All you need to start an asylum is an empty room and the right kind of people.”
But if there’s two things that hold strong above all else when it comes to My Man Godfrey, it’s the chemistry between its two leads and the tellingness of the story they find themselves in. Everyone knows how Powell famously suggested ex-wife Lombard for the lead role, much to some people’s bewilderment. Powell knew how right the actress was for the part of Irene and that the two together would turn the film into magic. He was right. Lombard and Powell both soared, earning Oscar nominations for their roles and setting the standard for the romantic comedy pairing for decades to come. Their knack for banter and generating levity certainly helps in My Man Godfrey’s illustrations of class. Set during the Great Depression, the movie takes full opportunity to show the plight of those affected by society’s struggle through some quietly searing commentary which could not be ignored at the time and still comes across as striking to this day. Nearly 90 years on, My Man Godfrey remains the gold standard it very much deserves to be.
Cinapse is all about cinematic exploration, and I’m thrilled about this Screwball Comedy 101 theme for this month’s Two Cents Film Club because I’m almost totally ignorant of the genre and have seen none of the films programmed by my esteemed colleagues.
My Man Godfrey was a delight, I must say. Something I couldn’t help but take note of right off the bat was the whip cracking dialog of this thing. It felt decidedly modern with its punchy, mile-a-minute dialog that would fit right into the Marvel Cinematic Universe in some respects. While not my first experience with William Powell (I’ve seen The Thin Man), this was my first exposure as far as I know to queen of the era Carole Lombard. The plotting of My Man Godfrey moves fast and furious as befits the dialog, but I was personally fascinated as someone who works with the formerly homeless in my day job to experience a plotline related to “forgotten men” of the Great Depression.
Powell’s Godfrey is a man of mystery who is picked out of his homeless circumstances by a madcap rich family who are, in a dehumanizing fashion, looking for a homeless person to win a high society scavenger hunt. Godfrey is offended, but ends up enmeshed with Lombard’s Irene Bullock and her whole crazy clan. Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if Wes Anderson took inspiration from this film for The Royal Tenenbaums with all the chaos happening in this mansion. We slowly learn who Godfrey really is as he pushes and pulls against the posh Bullock family whirlwind.
The whole affair is so crackingly paced that the least modern element here is the cute upward mobility that Godfrey is able to achieve by the end. He’d come from a wealthy family, Ivy league education, and the like… but had lost it all in heartbreak (not to mention The Great Depression). It’s a lovely sentiment that Godfrey is able to take a steady job butlering for the Bullocks and simply put his mind to it and rebound back to the high society he had once fallen out of. Even if Godfrey does have a heart of gold and brings up all his “forgotten men” with him, it feels aspirational and highly fictional when viewed today in a deeply stratified oligarchy where such upward mobility is unattainable for the vast majority.
My introduction to screwball comedy was via Preston Sturges’ films–from The Lady Eve in college (and the subject of next week’s column!) to the similar madcap Depression-era romantic comedy Sullivan’s Travels. My Man Godfrey had long languished on my to-watch list, as has To Be or Not to Be, and I’m always excited to use Two Cents as an excuse to rectify such important blind spots.
The film’s predominantly an effective lampoon of the out-of-touch upper crust, who spend their nights stealing horses, smashing windows, and using “forgotten men” as clues for drunken scavenger hunts. Thrust back into this world is someone who tried to stay out of it–fellow forgotten man Godfrey (William Powell)–who allows himself to be brought into the game of the rich in order to help seemingly downtrodden socialite Irene (Carole Lombard) finally get one over on her overbearing older siblings. Godfrey further accepts Irene’s invitation to buttle for her Park Avenue family–only to get far more than he bargained for keeping up with their zany lifestyle as well as Irene’s hysterical affections.
Like the best screwball comedies, My Man Godfrey moves at a delightfully dizzying blur. I’ve always loved how these films feel like creatively-adapted theater plays, with a primer on rapid-fire banter and delicious wordplay. But what I loved so much about Gregory La Cava’s film is how much of an emphasis there was on the surprisingly mobile camera work–making rack focuses, elaborate dolly movements, and more an equal part of My Man Godfrey’s comedy, and making this heightened and theatrical film likewise feel incredibly cinematic.
I also enjoyed the wonderful layers La Cava peeled back on Godfrey himself–while the exact circumstances of Godfrey’s homelessness aren’t explored beyond cursory references to heartbreak, Powell delivers these moments with a moving pathos, even if they’re amid the maelstrom of whimsical madness he must endure at the hands of the Bullocks. It’s a dignity that the film fittingly extends to the other victims of circumstance who Godfrey shares his dump with, never using them or their predicament as the butt of any of the film’s humor. The film’s final set piece, allowing these men to find new rewarding purpose in life, is so rich with understated joy and hope–the perfect antithesis of My Man Godfrey’s cruelly trivial opening pursuits.
A depressing truth; I’m one of those terrible cinephiles who’s knowledge of cinema pre-1960’s is pretty abysmal. Sure I’ve seen a fair share of the larger, pop culture milestone types like Casablanca and Singin’ In The Rain, but, embarrassingly, I’ve seen very little cinema from the first 50 years of its existence. One of those major blindspots, thus, is the screwball comedies of the ‘30s & ‘40s. Coming into My Man Godfrey, I wasn’t sure what to expect.
But wow, what an absolute delight! Just a fun, goofy, genuinely funny comedy all the way through, so much so that, by the time the story started to wrap up, I wanted another 30 minutes of the Bullock family hijinks.
I think what struck me the most about this, a film almost a 100 years old, is how modern it still feels. From the opening scene where a group of rich socialites attempt to “buy” a forgotten man (which, this being the first time I’ve heard it, is an incredibly depressing term), to the continued escapades of a rich family run amok, it’s not really all that removed from our own modern class struggles; a ruling class that views the world as one big party, and everyone else who just need a job to survive. Straight up, the actual insanity that these rich kids get into (massive scavenger hunt that has them essentially robbing the city, treating criminal charges as expenses, drunken vandalism) is pretty much what we see the richest of assholes posting on socials.
To lean back into the more fun aspects, I was also caught off guard by how romantic this all was, in an actual romantic comedy sort of way. I don’t know if it is because we’ve been in a drought of true romcoms for almost 20 years now, but I couldn’t help but be completely smitten by how Godfrey and Irene play off each other; Godfrey laying a natural, almost accidental, charm in his relationship with her, and Irene slowly but surely wearing down Godfrey with her own eccentric wit. Hell, even the back and forth between Godfrey and Cornelia has some heat; in that moment, at the very end, when she realizes she is also in love with him, has better romantic tension than almost anything made this century.
Genuinely excited for the rest of this Two Cents series, for sure!
A JANUARY OF VINTAGE LAUGHS!
In an effort to combat the January blues (not to mention other devastating events taking place that month), the Two Cents crew here at Cinapse have decided to dive into the world of classic screwball comedies. The likes of Carole Lombard, Ernst Lubitsch, Barbara Stanwyck, Jack Benny, and Elaine May are all on deck to chase away those winter blues with a collection of movies that range from the romantic, to the scandalous. Spend the month with us and some side-splitting laughs from the masters who made the genre the riotous (and slightly subversive) staple that it remains to this day.
Join us by contacting our team or emailing [email protected]!
1/13- The Lady Eve
1/20- To Be or Not to Be
1/27- A New Leaf
