Review - Make Way for Tomorrow

 May 20, 2022
 
Make Way for Tomorrow – U.S., 1937
 

There are stories that transcend time, that tell such universal truths that, despite clear indicators that they are from a specific time and place, they have a resonance that a more recent film replete with the latest technological advances and starring members of the current A-list simply may not. Sometimes they are mirrors providing a physical image to things that many of us often would prefer not to have running around in our heads, harsh truths about the kind of people we either are or are susceptible to becoming in just the right (or wrong in this case) circumstance. Ang Lee touched on this in his debut film, Pushing Hands, Ira Sachs explored a variation of it in Love Is Strange, Barry Levinson in Avalon, Yasujiro Ozu in Tokyo Story, Edward Yang in Yi Yi. And one such truth is this: We can be quite awful to the people who raised us.
 
Leo McCarey begins his 1937 masterpiece, Make Way for Tomorrow. with an acknowledgement of that sad fact through a scroll that ends with an impassioned plea to heed those immortal words Honor thy mother and father, and frankly speaking, this is the only part of the movie I wish I could apply editor’s scissors to. After all, who needs to be “told” when what follows “shows” in such devastating detail?
 
We then drop in on a family gathering of sorts, and it is soon clear that these do not occur all that often. After some pleasant (and a few unpleasant) pleasantries, the patriarch of the family, Barkley Cooper (Victor Moore) delivers quite a shock: He and his wife, Lucy (Beulah Bondi), both in their seventies, are only a few days away from homelessness, and there’s nothing to be done about it.  Now, in the fairy tale version of this story, the Coopers’ adult children all band together and find an idyllic spot for them to spend their remaining years together. Here, that notion is fractured almost immediately.
 
There are concerns about space, distance, timing, financing, and – sadly, perhaps most obstructionist of all – family. Some of these concerns indeed have merit, for few people, especially those living in the big city, buy a bigger (and more expensive) house on the off-chance that their parents need a place to stay later. Soon, the children reach a decision – to split the couple up. Mr. Cooper will stay with the eldest daughter, Cora (Elisabeth Risdon), and Mrs. Copper will live with the eldest son, George (Thomas Mitchell), in his big apartment, currently co-occupied by George, his wife, Anita (Fay Bainter), and their teenage daughter, Rhoda (Barbara Read). Temporarily, their children assure them, and Mrs. Cooper is willing to believe these optimistic sentiments. Mr. Cooper, much less so. Why would it work, he reasons, when it hasn’t worked for anyone else?
 
Thus, two people who have spent the previous fifty years together are separated in the vein hope that their children, into whose hands they’ve just placed their well-being, will do right by them. It’s telling then that Robert Cooper (Ray Meyer), the youngest son, who bursts into a jazzy homage to his mother upon entering the Cooper’s home, and their younger daughter, Nellie (Minna Gombell), practically disappear from the film.
 
The film adopts an episodic formula that works impressively. McCarey first shows us Mrs. Cooper’s experience, which sees George’s wife and daughter adopt that ever-positive message it’s only three months – only for three months to seem much more permanent with each passing day. Traditions are disrupted, private space is lost, and friends stop calling on Rhoda. In one scene, Mrs. Cooper (the wife) tries to explain to Mrs. Cooper (the mother) that she too is Mrs. Cooper, and that only one Mrs. Cooper should be running the house and taking care of Mr. Cooper (the son and husband). It doesn’t solve anything. In another, Mrs. Cooper (the wife) is holding a bridge class in her home, and the evening is going splendidly until the Cooper’s maid (Louise Beavers) enters carrying the elder Mrs. Cooper’s rocking chair. The “invasion” practically unnerves Anita. The scene culminates with an emotional phone call between the elder Coopers, one which occurs in full-view of the bridge class and its instructor. The room is dead silent, stunned out of their annoyance by the sheer heartbreak of the situation, and yet not a single person offers a word of comfort. In truth, what can they say? Could anything make the situation better?
 
McCarey then transports us a few states over to update us on Mr. Cooper’s status before finishing the film by bringing these two characters back together, but not for the reasons you’d hope. The finale is pure cinematic magic. I was struck as I watched this part of the film by two sets of characters. There were the Cooper children and their families, of course, and then there were the people Mr. Cooper encountered in his new home and those he and his wife meet during their reunion in the big city. In fairness to the former group, most of them try. It’s just that human nature is not on their side. You can have all of the best of intentions only to see those sentiments dwarfed and ultimately defeated by instinctive tendencies toward self-preservation. Get things back to normal. Preserve your space, your routine, your social network. I recently read an essay by a college student whose family experienced bouts of homelessness. In one passage, he recounts having to continually move from home to home because of his relatives’ “one-night only” policy. My immediate reaction was that I would never do that, and yet years ago, when my half-sister called out of the blue and asked if she and her boyfriend could stay with us while they explored a possible move to California, I blinked, and the visit never came to pass. So, I get the children. They’re not horrible people; they’re just been put in a horrible situation, and like so many of us, they are unable to rise to the occasion.
 
But then there are the people the Cooper’s meet along the way: the owner of a corner store who engages with Mr. Cooper in long, meaningful chats whenever he frequents his shop, the manager of the hotel who treats them like royalty when he learns that they spent their honeymoon in his hotel fifty years earlier, the band leader who spies them in the crowd and changes melodies to give them more time to dance the waltz. There’s even a car salesman who becomes so affected by them that he practically becomes their chauffer for the evening. In these and many other characters, we see the humanity and goodness that stress and self-protective tendencies have severely weakened in the Connor children and their families.
 
And then there’s the ending, which is one of the most poignant in cinematic history.
 
We are guided along this journey by two extremely capable lead actors and a host of equally impressive supporting actors. We sense the down-home nature of the Moore’s and Bondi’s independently minded-characters. These are people who would shed far fewer tears over the loss of a house than they would the loss of time with each other. They seem less out of place than out of time. Their children turn to other people for advice, and while they may get along with their grandchildren’s generation in small doses, there’s a sense that there will always be a gap between them, as if time, as if is prone to do, has made their experiences and views, irrelevant. Make Way for Tomorrow shows the error in this way of thinking. In the Cooper’s, we see two people we should emulate instead of looking past. We should want what they have and seek them out for advice of how to achieve it. Of course, that conflicts with the understandable focus on the present and the belief that previous generations couldn’t possible comprehend today’s. Step aside, we seem to say. Make way for tomorrow. We never suspect that one day they’ll be saying that about us or that they’ll be as wrong as we were. (on DVD and Blu-ray from the Criterion Collection)
 
5 stars

Review - An Affair to Remember

August 30, 2012

An Affair to Remember – US, 1957

Towards the beginning of Leo McCarey’s film An Affair to Remember, there’s a scene that made me stop and think for a moment about the differences between society in the late 1950’s and society today. The scene includes an invitation by Nickie Ferrante (Cary Grant) to Terry McKay (Deborah Kerr), a young woman he has literally just met on a cruise ship. That the invitation comes from Ferrante is not a big surprise. He is after all a notorious playboy who elicits both swoons and jealous, vengeful outbursts from women he has playfully scorned. And it’s not that he’s a terrible man; it’s just that he’s insincere. His invitation to Ms. McKay comes despite the fact that he is engaged to marry into a very wealthy family in the “rock and gravel” business. In the scene, Ms. McKay accepts his offer, yet insists that they go to her room for the drinks. What fascinating about this is that going to her room seems to imply that romance is out of the question. This might seem a little odd to today’s audiences, who are likely accustomed to seeing rather quick trips to the bedroom in films. However, there were rules that gentleman followed back then. In fact, Orson Welles refers to the same notion in Citizen Kane, during the scene in which Kane accepts Susan’s invitation to come upstairs and dry himself off after a passing car splashes water all over him. Both Kane and Ferrante are forced to be on their best behavior, although to be honest, the task seems much, much harder for Ferrante.

Ferrante and McKay’s early scenes cackle with an intoxicating and biting wit that is a pleasure to lay ears on. Ferrante has clearly met his match, and since his best lines have no effect of McKay, he’s forced to play it straight for a change. At one point, McKay hurls the line, “I hope I didn’t hurt your ego” at him. To his credit, he doesn’t seem to mind. Perhaps it’s a relief from the monotony that comes with saying the same old pick up line time and time again. This puts McKay in an awkward position, for in the history of film, I don’t think a man has ever not given chase to the woman who seems different from every other woman he’s met. Eventually, they decide to dine together, where they open up about their lives and loves. She is a former lounge club singer, whose finance “saved” her from a wretched life of drunken customers and lecherous managers – the fiance’s sentiments, not hers. Ferrante’s a guy whose never had to work a day in his life, and if he sticks to his present course, he’ll end up one of the richest kept husbands in New York. In short, neither one of them is heading in the right direction. Of course, that can only mean one thing.

With a title like An Affair to Remember, I expected a drama, and yet much of the film’s first act is a comedy about two people finding themselves irresistibly drawn together, while trying to remain emotionally distant. Again, McKay tries a bit harder than Ferrante does. The film takes place before pictures could go viral within minutes of being posted online and before the twenty-four hour news cycle made celebrity gossip a regular part of news programs. However, it’s interesting to see that even back in 1957 people had an insatiable appetite for gossip. The film begins with the announcement of Ferrante’s engagement to Lois Clark on multiple television broadcasts, giving viewers just a taste of the media’s interest in the private lives of the rich and famous. Later, we get early evidence of how the wealthy used the media for their own exposure, as Clark invites the media into her home to interview her and her fiancé upon his return from sea. Needless to say, the interview does not go according to plan, especially when the nosey reporter asks about the date of their wedding. Oh, Ferrente tells the television audience when he’s going to get married all right; he’s just not talking about marrying Ms. Clark.

An Affair to Remember hits its dramatic high point during a stop over in Italy. There, Ferrante says he is going to pay a visit to his grandmother, Janou. McKay thinks Janou is code for a beautiful woman in her thirties, so she tags along if only to gather evidence of how much of a cad Ferrante is. She learns the opposite, and it is the start of something surprisingly touching and believable. Much of this is due to the joyful, sweet performance of Cathleen Nesbitt as Grandmother Janou. Through her, we learn a lot about the two lead characters, and they in turn learn a lot about each other during their all too brief visit. At one point, Janou tells McKay one of the most moving lines of the entire film: “You have still to create your memories.” The comment could be seen as a observation of McKay’s age, or it could be seen as a gentle warning – make sure you are creating memories you want to remember later on. Grandmother Janou is in only one scene in the film, and yet I don’t think I will ever forget her.

Not everything works in An Affair to Remember. I didn’t quite believe the reactions of the passengers on the boat. They seem deliberately amplified for the amusement of the audience, yet their reactions do not seem realistic at all. One scene in particular makes fools of both Ferrante’s and McKay’s significant others. Also problematic are the two elongated musical performances that serve absolutely no purpose but to prolong the film a good ten minutes longer than it needs to be. However, these are minor quibbles about a film that otherwise works like a charm. Grant and Kerr play off each other superbly, regardless of whether they are delivering comic banter or pouring out their hearts. I also appreciated the way Clark and McKay’s fiancé, Kenneth Bradley, are not portrayed negatively. They’re just two decent people whose loves have drifted away from them. It happens.    

Made today, there’s no doubt that the film would be much steamier, yet that would be to ruin what works so well in this one. This is a film that builds not toward romantic intimacy but a lifetime commitment to be there in both good times and bad, to make themselves worthy of the other person even if the path to this goal means being temporary separated. There’s something rather noble about that. And there’s something timeless about An Affair to Remember. (on DVD and Blu-ray)

4 stars

Review – Duck Soup

June 24, 2010

Duck Soup – U.S., 1933

There is no one in today’s cinema that even remotely resembles the Marx Brothers. Here are four individuals, three after their fifth film, who came into film after first establishing themselves on the Vaudeville circuit and on Broadway. By the time they made their first film, they had developed stage personas that audiences knew and expected to see. And their early films reflect their experiences on stage. Many of these films contain short comic montages, as well as musical interludes, that have very little to do with the overall plot. They seem to exist so that each of the brothers has an opportunity to showcase his particular shtick. In some cases, the plot seems inconsequential. In fact, I’ll be eternally grateful to the first person who can explain to me just what Horse Feathers is about.

Movies have changed a lot since the Marx Brothers first came on the scene, and one of the most significant changes can be seen in comedies. Nowadays, comedies are more about characters finding themselves in situations that either allow them to be funny or allow funny events to occur around them. Comedies rarely include musical numbers, and actors hardly ever play the same character in films unless the film is a sequel. It’s sad to say, but it’s unlikely that great comedy teams such as Abbott and Costello; Laurel and Hardy; and Lewis and Martin could have the same careers in today’s Hollywood that they did in their time. Think about it: How many true comedy pairs are there in Hollywood presently? Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson may do a lot of movies together, but they do not play established characters in each of their films.

I remember the first time I saw a scene from a Marx Brothers film. As I watched Harpo and Chico harass a completely innocent bystander, I thought, “Why is this funny?” My father tried explaining it to me, but nothing he said made sense to me. Did the scene have a point? Would the scene be important later? To both questions, the answer was no, which simply didn’t fit my general concept of film structure. If a scene had no point, why was it in the film? It would be many years before I was willing to give the Marx Brothers another chance. When I finally did, I was older and a little bit wiser (at least I’d like to think so). And yet I must admit that even on repeat viewings, I still find it difficult to see precisely what other critics see when they look at Duck Soup. This is a film that many critics and film organizations have ranked as one of the greatest American films of all time, and yet I suspect that many younger filmgoers prefer the much more linear A Night at the Opera to Duck Soup, just as many people prefer Daffy Duck’s later more narrative cartoons to those earlier, more manic ones drawn by Tex Avery.

Duck Soup takes place in a fictional country called Freedonia, a country which is in economic peril due to years of financial mismanagement. In their desperation, the government turns to Mrs. Gloria Teasdale (Margaret Dumont), presumably Freedonia’s wealthiest citizen, for a loan of twenty million dollars. Mrs. Teasdale agrees to lend them the money on the condition that Rufus T. Firefly (Groucho Marx) be made president (perhaps dictator is a better word). Exactly why she chooses this man is never made clear, but we get the impression that she likes him a bit. Firefly quickly demonstrates why voting for someone simply because of one’s personal feelings is a bad idea, for he soon announces his agenda in song: limits on freedom of speech, the absence of pleasure, higher taxes, and a ban on all bribery that he does not get a cut from. Meanwhile, Trentino (Louis Calhern) the Ambassador of Sylvania, a neighboring country, is plotting against Firefly, perhaps hoping to even enlarge his own country by taking over Freedonia. To aid him in this endeavor, he enlists a beautiful singer named Vera Marcal (Raquel Torres) and helps two spies, Pinky (Harpo Marx) and Chicolini (Chico Marx) enter Freedonia. They are given the task of spying on Firefly, which is actually exactly what Vera has been asked to do. Since the film focuses more on Pinky and Chicolini, one can only assume that Vera is not very successful in her attempts to get close to Firefly, making her one of the few gorgeous cinematic femme fatales not to be able to entice her intended target.

To say that much of Duck Soup has to do with a potential war between Freedonia and Sylvania would be slightly misleading, for like many of the Marx Brothers films, the plot is structured in such a way that each of the Marx Brothers has a chance to demonstrate his singing, dancing, and comic timing, and if one joke falls flat, just wait. The next one comes just a split second later. Not all of them work anymore, but that’s probably because they have been used in so many later films that they may seem predictable to present-day audiences. For example, many modern comedies have variations of the mirror scene, and the final battle scene in Duck Soup has been copied as well. The result of this is that it’s harder to see the film’s originality and genius now.

Duck Soup still works, however. I enjoyed the banter between Groucho and Chico, especially the way they exchange jokes that have nothing to do with the central plot of the film. Harpo’s Paul Revere-like ride is still hilarious, and the film’s final musical number remains impressive. I’m less crazy about the way the film uses Mrs. Dumont’s weight as comic fodder. It may have been funny in 1933, but present-day sensitivities have made weight jokes a bit of a taboo. In addition, I still don’t quite see the humor in Chico’s and Harpo’s treatment of the poor lemonade vendor (Edgar Kennedy), but I do get a chuckle out of Harpo’s bizarre habit of cutting everything. It’s a shame that Ms. Torres, who only made thirteen films, and Mr. Calhern, who in 1953 starred opposite Marlon Brando in Julius Caesar, are given so little to do in Duck Soup. That’s not entirely surprising, though. It is a Marx Brothers film after all. (on DVD)

3 and a half stars