Heaven Can Wait (1943)
Brilliantly rich in color, speeding through decades of a man's life, and tumbling with jokes and situations time and again, this movie has style and sophistication written all over it. On the one hand it's chipper and funny and clever, on the other it's a hair stuff and forced, or what director Ernest Lubitch would call stylized and refined.
The entire story is a flashback of a man named Henry sitting in purgatory looking at the underestimated Laird Creger. I think Henry expects to go to hell next, and so there's an impression that we'll see just how bad he's been in life (and you wish he had been more bad, actually). If you have this feeling of tolerance as you laugh and the movie speeds through its opening scenes, hang on! It rises up several notches and truly takes off when the two main leads arrive: Don Ameche who is rather good as the center of the tale and Gene Tierney who is totally wonderful as Martha, the woman of increasing interest. Tierney plays roles that combine reserve and style with a kind of undercurrent of mischief very well. She has to keep a slightly false style to fit the Lubitch sense of a "comedy of manners," but she otherwise is less of a caricature than the rest of the cast, her and Henry.
Speaking of caricatures, boy is this movie loaded up. Martha's parents are an extraordinary high volume pair, Marjorie Main and Eugene Palette (they could make an entire movie of their own, which you'll appreciate once the Kansas scene is established--there are some moments with the servants that are masterpieces). Henry's grandfather is the always impressively quirky and complex Charles Coburn, who luckily lives through many scenes.
The color (true Technicolor) is a character of its own here--the opening scenes of purgatory are like a color version of Mr. Thatcher's famous library in "Citizen Kane," the bedroom of the newly married Martha is a pink and baby blue wonder. Skin tones glow, flowers (of which there are many in this upper crust world) and drapes (all very fancy) pop off the screen, and most of all, that first blue dress that Martha wears is something to wonder at. The photographer, Edward Cronjager, was a staple of great 1930s films, and he got an Oscar nomination for this 1943 film (and D.W. Griffith said it was the finest footage ever filmed). And speaking of "Citizen Kane," there are several echoes here--the photograph that (almost) comes to life, the telling of man's life including his old age, and there's the long long dining room table between Main and Palette--that may or may not be intentional, but it's there, for sure.
"All my life I've wanted to run away with a woman," says the grandfather. "And it's happening!" But not like you think. Check out this very funny and beautifully filmed bit of escapism, which came out right in the middle of World War II. A welcome relief even to this day. And you know what's amazing about movies like this ("Dinner at Eight" comes to mind, too) is how really moving they eventually become--regular tear jerkers. But I'm a sucker.
Brilliantly rich in color, speeding through decades of a man's life, and tumbling with jokes and situations time and again, this movie has style and sophistication written all over it. On the one hand it's chipper and funny and clever, on the other it's a hair stuff and forced, or what director Ernest Lubitch would call stylized and refined.
The entire story is a flashback of a man named Henry sitting in purgatory looking at the underestimated Laird Creger. I think Henry expects to go to hell next, and so there's an impression that we'll see just how bad he's been in life (and you wish he had been more bad, actually). If you have this feeling of tolerance as you laugh and the movie speeds through its opening scenes, hang on! It rises up several notches and truly takes off when the two main leads arrive: Don Ameche who is rather good as the center of the tale and Gene Tierney who is totally wonderful as Martha, the woman of increasing interest. Tierney plays roles that combine reserve and style with a kind of undercurrent of mischief very well. She has to keep a slightly false style to fit the Lubitch sense of a "comedy of manners," but she otherwise is less of a caricature than the rest of the cast, her and Henry.
Speaking of caricatures, boy is this movie loaded up. Martha's parents are an extraordinary high volume pair, Marjorie Main and Eugene Palette (they could make an entire movie of their own, which you'll appreciate once the Kansas scene is established--there are some moments with the servants that are masterpieces). Henry's grandfather is the always impressively quirky and complex Charles Coburn, who luckily lives through many scenes.
The color (true Technicolor) is a character of its own here--the opening scenes of purgatory are like a color version of Mr. Thatcher's famous library in "Citizen Kane," the bedroom of the newly married Martha is a pink and baby blue wonder. Skin tones glow, flowers (of which there are many in this upper crust world) and drapes (all very fancy) pop off the screen, and most of all, that first blue dress that Martha wears is something to wonder at. The photographer, Edward Cronjager, was a staple of great 1930s films, and he got an Oscar nomination for this 1943 film (and D.W. Griffith said it was the finest footage ever filmed). And speaking of "Citizen Kane," there are several echoes here--the photograph that (almost) comes to life, the telling of man's life including his old age, and there's the long long dining room table between Main and Palette--that may or may not be intentional, but it's there, for sure.
"All my life I've wanted to run away with a woman," says the grandfather. "And it's happening!" But not like you think. Check out this very funny and beautifully filmed bit of escapism, which came out right in the middle of World War II. A welcome relief even to this day. And you know what's amazing about movies like this ("Dinner at Eight" comes to mind, too) is how really moving they eventually become--regular tear jerkers. But I'm a sucker.