Spotlight

Spotlight Date: 15-September-02
Spoiler Rating: Medium

Libeled Lady (1936)

Screwball comedies seem to have gone the way of the dodo bird, or at least to have fallen onto the endangered species list. This is too bad, not only for moviegoers looking for something smart and light, but also for actors craving a script where dialogue is the main course instead of car chases and sappy romantic scenes. I imagine that any star would love the opportunity to exchange witty repartee with fellow actors, plotting wacky schemes and enduring crazy turns of fortune before finally getting the girl (or boy) and sending the audience home with a smile on its face. (Just look at the luminaries who lined up to make "Ocean's 11" for a substantial pay cut last year, and that was an empty heist caper.)

Not surprisingly, screwball comedies had their heyday during the Great Depression, when going home with a smile on your face was really worth something. How comforting it must have been to see average Joes (that is, flawed but generally decent people) trying to get ahead with wits and perseverance, and eventually finding treasure at the end of the rainbow (even if it wasn't always the treasure they sought). Which is exactly what happens in "Libeled Lady," an enjoyable comedy featuring a foursome of big-name stars: William Powell, Myrna Loy, Jean Harlow, and Spencer Tracy.

Tracy plays Warren Haggerty, the Managing Editor of The Evening Star, a newspaper that has printed a scandalous and unfounded story about a wealthy heiress, Connie Allenbury (Loy). When Allenbury and her father decide to sue the paper for $5 million, Haggerty enlists the aid of a former employee, Bill Chandler (Powell, in the movie's major role), to blackmail the heiress and force her to drop the lawsuit. The plan is that Chandler will take the same boat from London to New York as Allenbury, get her alone in his room, and then have someone bust in and catch them "in the act," at which time his injured wife will sue Allenbury for alienation of affection. Needless to say, the project doesn't come off quite as planned. The first problem is that Chandler doesn't have a wife. But here Haggerty comes to the rescue by offering up his long-suffering fiancée, Gladys (Harlow), who reluctantly agrees to marry Chandler and then divorce him as soon as the plot has come to fruition.

Of course Chandler, caught between a wife who is neglected by her real lover and a vivacious heiress whom he's trying to entrap, finds himself at the center of a lot of confusion, romance, and hilarity. (Apparently the undeniable chemistry between Powell and Loy was a hot commodity at the time — the second "Thin Man" movie came out in the same year as "Libeled Lady.") There are lot of outright funny moments (e.g., Chandler's fishing trip with the Allenburys) and a fair amount of clever, naughty banter, and by the end everyone has succumbed to the power of love and learned a little about themselves in the process. The cast is very enjoyable — and may I say how nice it is to see huge stars who aren't drop-dead gorgeous? Even Harlow, despite her bombshell reputation, is neither beautiful nor desperate to be thought so, judging by a memorable shot of her slathered in face cream and hooked into an ancient permanent machine in the beauty salon. Somehow these stars manage to be larger-than-life and still down to earth. (All the better to relate to them, my dear.)

I find it interesting that many comedies from this era (e.g., "His Girl Friday," "Meet John Doe," "Mr. Deeds Goes to Town," "Christmas in Connecticut", and, later on, "Roman Holiday") involve newspaper reporters. There are a few obvious reasons: the appeal of no-nonsense, slightly rakish characters who work in a fast-paced environment; the logical connection of such characters to political or social stories; the opportunity to feature women in strong roles; and, perhaps, a tip of the hat to people, like screenwriters, who make their living out of words. But it seems as if the principal reason is to show how people who become jaded in the pursuit of truth end up finding their own personal truths (usually love and self-realization) in unexpected places. Along with the fairly average-looking appeal of some of the old-time movie stars, I like this aspect of 1930s and '40s comedies: they serve up a realistic dose of wisdom along with the contrived theatrical situations. No doubt this is another reason why they went over well during hard economic times — and continue to do so today.

Copyright © 2002 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.