by Brandie Ashe
Frenetic. It’s the first word that comes to mind when thinking about Preston Sturges’ 1942 comedy classic The Palm Beach Story. From the opening credits—a brief sequence with enough plot devices jammed in to fill an entirely separate movie—to the closing scene, the film proceeds at a breakneck speed, moving swiftly from one improbable situation to the next. The end result is one of the funniest comedies to ever be produced in Hollywood, one that defines the word “screwball” in every way imaginable.
That the film is a comedic masterwork should come as no surprise to those familiar with Sturges’ oeuvre, for no film director in history had quite as deft a hand in crafting wild, outrageous comedy as he. Not merely content to sit in the director’s chair, Sturges wrote and produced his own screenplays, in addition to dabbling in acting, songwriting, inventing, and playwriting, among other varied interests. A prototypical “Renaissance man,” Sturges brought a wide-ranging knowledge to his films, reflected in intelligent characterizations, sharp, witty dialogue, and furious pacing.
As I mentioned above, The Palm Beach Story begins with a wild opening sequence that barely makes sense—at least, until you reach the end of the film. A man and a woman are set to get married, but both are running late for the altar. We see a woman (Claudette Colbert) bound and gagged inside a closet, struggling to get free. Meanwhile, her doppelganger (Colbert again) runs out in a wedding gown as a maid faints in horror. The groom (Joel McCrea) races across town in the back of a taxi, trying desperately to throw on his tuxedo. The bound woman manages to kick a hole in the closet door—as her bound feet emerge, the maid faints dead away once more. The bride grabs a taxi and manages to make it to the altar just as the groom bustles in as well. As they proceed with the ceremony, title cards appear, telling the audience, “And they lived happily ever after … or did they?” No other explanation is given; the film simply moves on without further comment.
Five years pass on the screen, and we are then formally introduced to the not-so-newlyweds: Tom Jeffers, a failing inventor, and Gerry, his unhappy and aspiring wife. The couple owes money to practically everyone in New York City, from the grocer to the landlord—the latter of whom has already begun showing the Jeffers’ apartment to prospective new tenants. One afternoon, Gerry encounters one of these prospects, a millionaire known as the Wienie King (Robert Dudley), who takes a liking to Gerry and gives her some money to pay her bills, no questions asked. Tom is upset and suspicious as to how Gerry exactly obtained the money, and the couple quarrels. Gerry, a master of logical reasoning, decides the best option for both of them is for Gerry to divorce Tom, use her charms to snare a millionaire second husband, and use her newfound wealth to finance Tom’s latest invention (an improbably suspended airport designed to float above a city).
Gerry, with Tom in vain pursuit, hops a train to Palm Beach in order to obtain a quickie divorce. After being temporarily taken in by a group of raucous, drunken millionaires (a group that includes such invaluable Sturges stock players as William Demerest, Chester Conklin, and Robert Greig, among others), Gerry meets John D. Hackensacker III (Rudy Vallee), one of the richest men in the world, who quickly falls for her after hearing the story of her “brutish” soon-to-be ex. Upon reaching Palm Beach, Tom turns up and tries to convince Gerry to come back, but she introduces him to Hackensacker as her brother, Captain McGlue … at which point Hackensacker’s flighty sister, the Princess Centimillia (played by a hard-working Mary Astor), falls for Tom, despite dealing with the unwanted affections of her latest suitor, an unintelligible dandy named Toto (Sig Arno). And that’s only the beginning of an insane climax to an already nutty film.
In Beach, Sturges takes the genre of screwball comedy to dizzying heights. The film has a little bit of everything—intriguing characters indulging in snappy repartee, genuine romantic chemistry between McCrea and Colbert, guffaws galore—and deftly juggles it all. But the movie is no mere laugh riot; it can be argued that the movie is also Sturges’ most incisively satirical film, skewering all of its characters with an equally skeptical hand. The biggest target of Sturges’ cynicism is his leading lady, for Gerry is the classic “dizzy dame,” intent on seeing her scheme through and not above using her sexual wiles to get what she wants. Sex is a commodity to Gerry, one that she trades in with little remorse. She’s almost pragmatic in her admission that her attractiveness is her strongest weapon, explaining to Tom, “You have no idea what a long-legged woman can do without doing anything.”
But Gerry is not the only focus of Beach’s cynicism. The men who fall prey to Gerry’s schemes are, in their own respects, ridiculed for buying into it—something these men tend to do quite literally: the Wienie King peels off some bills after the briefest of exchanges; the Ale and Quail Club, eager to play a collection “white knight” to Gerry’s “damsel in distress,” provide her a (temporary) berth in their private train car; and in the case of Hackensacker, there’s that ludicrously lavish shopping spree to which he treats Gerry after she “loses” her clothes on the train. The film treats these idle rich with a sniff of condescension that borders on parody: are the rich really this clueless, this entirely wasteful? In Sturges’ own experience, at least, they truly are—after all, he reportedly based the film’s characters on real-life acquaintances from his own days in Palm Beach, when he was married to Eleanor Hutton—who bears more than a passing resemblance to Astor’s flighty Princess.
Indeed, Sturges seems to go out of his way in demonstrating that the wealthy are utterly ridiculous creatures. Hackensacker refuses to tip properly (claiming it’s “un-American”), yet sails on a private yacht and spends thousands of dollars outfitting a woman he’s only just met without the blink of an eye. His sister goes through husband like most women go through pairs of shoes; she takes new lovers and discards them easily (or at least tries to—Toto is not gotten rid of so easily). And the end of the film demonstrates how easily these two think people, like possessions, can be replaced; supposedly broken-hearted upon realizing the truth about Gerry and Tom’s relationship, both Hackensackers are immediately cheered up upon realizing that each of their former paramours has a twin. Cut to a wedding in which the doubles of Gerry and Tom stand ready to marry a Hackensacker—looks of trepidation notwithstanding. (And a neat little bow is thereby tied upon the film, linking the previously extraneous opening credit sequence to the body of the film. Well played, Mr. Sturges.)
Still, the strong sense of entitlement surrounding these characters—all of them, to some extent—does not preclude their appeal. And The Palm Beach Story largely succeeds because we find these people, with their multitude of flaws and general lack of responsibility, to still be somewhat endearing. You’re not only laughing at them, you’re laughing with them, identifying with the foibles that define us all, rich or poor, insane or not. It’s nothing less than brilliant, beautiful farce, delivered straight from the hands of an unparalleled master.
How The Palm Beach Story made the Top 100:
#4 Brandie Ashe
#7 R.D. Finch
#9 Pat Perry
#10 Marilyn Ferdinand
#32 Pierre De Plume
#33 Steven Mullen (Weeping Sam)
#36 Dean Treadway
#50 Bobby McCartney
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Writers/Founders
Wonders in the Dark 
Brandie very fine work here recapturing this insane piece of comedy. I didn’t vote for it in my top 60, but it would make my top 100. The more I think about Sturges and his number of classic comedies, the more there is to admire about him. His most well known one is Sullivan’s Travels, however that one is perhaps his biggest departure. That was where he attempted to do a bit more social critiquing and there is more of a message there. It might be his best film, but it’s not his funniest when you compare belly laughs.
Thanks, Jon! I really like Sullivan’s Travels, too, but I agree–it’s not what you might call a “belly-laugher” (though it certainly has its moments). One of the reasons I voted Palm Beach so highly on my ballot is that it really is a non-stop laugh riot, at least to me. Whenever I try to turn people on to classic film, Sturges is generally my first stop, and Palm Beach is usually the one I start with. I’ve never shown it to anyone who didn’t subsequently gasp with laughter throughout the whole thing.
That the film is a comedic masterwork should come as no surprise to those familiar with Sturges’ oeuvre, for no film director in history had quite as deft a hand in crafting wild, outrageous comedy as he. Not merely content to sit in the director’s chair, Sturges wrote and produced his own screenplays, in addition to dabbling in acting, songwriting, inventing, and playwriting, among other varied interests. A prototypical “Renaissance man,” Sturges brought a wide-ranging knowledge to his films, reflected in intelligent characterizations, sharp, witty dialogue, and furious pacing.
Fantastic framing here Brandie, and yes in the end there is an endearment quotient that trumps everything in this incomparable story of ‘love triumphant’ by this extraordinary purveyor of American screw ball comedy. I wish I would have cast a vote for this, but I was leery of having a Sturges-heavy ballot. Colbery and McCrea are marvelous, and Vallee is a comic revelation. What could have been a maudlin effort in instead inhabited by comic inspiration, endearing oddballs and a splendid dash of surrealism. This is actually one of the master’s best films. A countdown gem from Brandie Ashe!
Many thanks, Sam! It’s funny you should mention the fear of a “Sturges-heavy ballot,” because that is precisely the reason I left Hail to the Conquering Hero and Miracle of Morgan’s Creek off my own ballot, in favor of this and two other Sturges classics. Still, on a list of “greatest comedy directors,” Sturges would be my undisputed number one, because I think no one understood the nuances of comedy better (the only ones who come closest to matching him, at least in my mind, are Keaton and Lubitsch, though I know that’d be up for debate with many folks!).
Excellent piece on one of the wackiest movies ever made! Thanks, Brandie!
Thank YOU, Dean!
Thank you, Brandie, for really bringing alive the spirit of this Sturges film, not to mention his films in general. I agree with Sam (above) about your excellent framing. It often difficult to characterize quality while at the same time maintaining an economy of words -but you’ve done it here.
I almost rated this film much lower than I ended up doing, based mostly on the scenes involving the hunters on the train – which stand apart from the story’s really moving forward. In the end, though, I simply decided to accept those sequences for what they are – comedic diversion.
I agree wholeheartedly about the chemistry between McCrea and Colbert – they were a match made in cinematic heaven. Colbert’s elegance and intelligence, in particular, always added stature to her films.
Another aspect of this film that raises its value is the great comedic performance by Rudy Vallee. His casting was a stroke of genius that capitalized on his past fame and reputation as a singer. The scenes on the train, where his eyeglasses get crushed, for example, lended a great deal humanity and humor to his characterization – a perfect complement to Colbert’s characterization.
A big reason why I value this film so highly involves its gender politics: I think Sturges is acknowledging the inequality of the sexes at the time while at the same time pointing out the irony that women would be obliged to rely on their feminine wiles to get ahead in a world controlled (on paper) by men. That Colbert’s would use whatever means necessary to gain advantage – clearly and fully aware of what she’s doing – underscores the fact that women are indeed men’s equals and, in some ways, superior.
This film, moreso than any other by Sturges, I believe, most strongly displays the great elegance and sophistication of his most powerfully fueled creative output.
Thanks, Pierre! I do find Vallee’s performance to be one of the most entertaining elements of this film. Honestly, I’ve never really been a fan of the man, but he’s perfectly cast here as Hackensacker. I love the scene in which he serenades Colbert’s character from beneath her window while she paces in frustration above. He’s delightfully oblivious to the fact that his corniness is driving her bonkers. And you make an excellent point regarding Sturges’ take on gender politics in the film–you have to admire Gerry for being willing and able to exert control over the events of the film with only a smile (and a great deal of well-intentioned cunning behind it).
Agreed, Brandie, about Vallee. In fact, in later years he turned out to be a rather overbearing political conservative. In this film, though, his willingness to self-deprecate really makes a mark. And his singing, in the context of the story, is quite effective, as well. In fact, I really love the use of music in this film to enrich the entire feelings that are evoked. I hadn’t remembered the name of Colbert’s character – Gerry – which in itself is a masculinization that fits right into the gender themes. That Gerry would be so self-aware as to be able to take advantage of gender stereotypes is a potent point, especially while all the other males – save one (McCrea) – are totally oblivious. And that’s why McCrea gets the girl (again) in the end – because he loves Gerry for who she is – her strengths as well as her traditionally “feminine” qualities.
Brandie, lovely post on a great film, my own favorite Sturges movie and one of the greatest of all screwball comedies. I know what people mean when they talk about having to take pains to avoid casting a Sturges-heavy ballot in the countdown! In that respect he’s right up there with Chaplin and Keaton. What’s so remarkable is the limited output and the brief number of years he worked at his peak as a director compared to those two masters.
If you think of the film as a series of evolving misadventures, then the Ale & Quail Club fit in nicely, and their misbehavior is the device that throws Gerry and Hackensacker together when their rail car is disconnected and she loses her clothing, an incident (the rail car part) based on a boyhood experience of Sturges and his mother when they ended up in Berlin and all their possessions ended up in Paris. You discuss the frivolous idle rich, and these are exactly the kind of people Sturges grew up around. In fact, there’s more than a bit of resemblance between the Princess Centimillia and Sturges’s own mother.
The entire cast is wonderful with the stars and second leads (Vallee and Astor, the latter in a rare comedy role) especially in peak form. But for me Claudette Colbert and her character of Gerry are the glue that holds all these frantic and unpredictable elements together. It’s also my favorite Claudette Colbert performance, and right here at the WitD yearly awards poll Colbert took the best actress 1942 vote, a bit of a surprise to me but a pleasant one as I voted for her myself.
Thanks, RD! I, too, love Colbert here. I think she brings a perfect mix of zaniness and exasperation to the role (her expressions in the film frequently crack me up–as if she’s wondering why these men won’t just let her proceed with her *VERY* sensible plans). I think her performance in this movie is really a step up from her Oscar-winning role in It Happened One Night–although she’s perfectly delightful in that film, I think her comedy chops were much more well developed by the time she hit Palm Beach. It stands to reason that working with directors/writers such as Mitchell Leisen (Midnight) and Ernst Lubitsch and Billy Wilder (Bluebeard’s Eighth Wife) in the interim likely helped set the stage for the utterly fantastic performance she gives Sturges here.
Great review, Brandie – I love this film. Colbert is fantastic, one of her greatest role, and I also like the fact that McCrea remains so grumpy and downbeat, so unwilling to play along, continually pointing up the underlying nastiness of the plot to swindle Vallee, below the glittering comic surface. Vallee and Astor are both great too – a wonderful cast altogether. Must admit I did also find the long part with the hunters in the train a bit irritating, as Pierre suggests above – I was glad when their carriage is abruptly disconnected and the plot can move on! I still don’t totally get the twins framing at the start and end of the film, but am glad that it means Vallee and Astor can get a happy ending too.