by Richard R.D. Finch
“All you need to start an asylum is an empty room and the right kind of people,” millionaire Alexander Bullock (Eugene Pallette) remarks to a friend near the beginning of My Man Godfrey. For the next hour and a half the movie sets out to illustrate that quip, using Bullock’s two daughters, his wife, and their social set as its prime examples. As hard as he tries, Alexander Bullock isn’t ever able to introduce any sanity into his eccentric family, but a mystery man played by William Powell is. Powell is Godfrey Smith, a homeless man living in a packing box at the city dump who is claimed by both Bullock daughters, Cornelia (Gail Patrick) and Irene (Carole Lombard), in the film’s famous opening, where the two are competing for the last item they need to win a society scavenger hunt—a real Forgotten Man. Godfrey doesn’t respond to the imperious Cornelia, but he does take an immediate liking to her sweet, slightly ditzy younger sister and allows himself to be claimed by her. Irene, elated at besting her domineering sister for once, in turn takes such a shine to Godfrey that she impulsively hires him as the new family butler. For the rest of the movie we follow along as Godfrey becomes embroiled in the antics of this nutty family that practically embodies the expression “the idle rich.”
One of the reasons for the popularity in the 1930s of American screwball comedies like Godfrey was the way these movies made fun of such people. While getting an eyeful of the lavish lives of the rich, audiences of the day could at the same time laugh at their idiotic behavior and their obliviousness of the economic hardships of the Depression. Many screwball comedies went no further than using the foibles of the rich as comic fodder, but some showed a genuine sense of social awareness and used their seemingly frivolous plots as pointed commentary on the huge socioeconomic divide between the rich and the rest of the population. The opening moments of Godfrey show clearly that this is one of the socially aware screwball comedies: The camera slowly sweeps across a painted version of the New York skyline done in Art Deco style as the credits light up on the sides of buildings, until it finally stops at the Queensboro Bridge, where looming in the shadows in the foreground at the foot of the bridge is the squalor of the city dump, a homeless encampment, and the stylized painted image fades into the real thing. This is where Godfrey Smith lives.
Even so, Godfrey doesn’t bludgeon the audience with its social commentary the way a Capra movie can. It keeps its view of the social and economic ills of the time and the insularity of the rich on a satirical level. These people aren’t intentionally malevolent so much as ignorant of the problems faced by those whose lives are less privileged than their own. Rather than promoting Capraesque populism, the film is actually rather conservative in its attitudes. Godfrey’s prescription for the problems of people like himself is simple and capitalistic and squarely on the side of the work ethic. “The only difference between a derelict and a man,” he says at one point, “is a job.” And he uses the serendipitous outcome of an attempt by Cornelia to frame him for stealing a pearl necklace to ensure that his homeless friends at the dump get the jobs that will reintegrate them with society. If Godfrey has a serious point to make, it’s that the rich must do more than spend their money to keep themselves entertained; they have a social obligation to invest their money in ways that create jobs, as Godfrey does with his windfall.
In the end, however, it is the film’s vivid and eccentric characters that really stand out against this ground of social awareness. Gruff Eugene Pallette has never been better than as the harried nominal head of the Bullock family. “I sometimes wonder whether my whole family has gone mad or it’s me,” he complains to Godfrey in that distinctive gravel voice. His wife (Alice Brady) is the ultimate self-centered scatterbrain, a woman who drives her husband to the verge of derangement with her fawning on her Pekingese and on her “protégé” Carlo (Mischa Auer), a sycophantic musician whose patron she has become. Elder daughter Cornelia, predatory and egotistical in an almost feline way, quickly extends the antagonism of her obsessive sibling rivalry with Irene to Godfrey—she has never gotten over being rejected by him at the scavenger hunt in favor of Irene—and does everything she can to drive him out of the family.
The film’s main focus within the Bullock family is, of course, Irene, played by the incomparable Carole Lombard. The gentle, good-natured Irene is nothing like her sister. As the Bullocks’ maid tells Godfrey his first day on the job, “She’s not as violent [as Cornelia] but she’s more insidious.” With her rushed, slightly breathless delivery and habit of conversing in non sequiturs, Lombard makes Irene the kind of woman whose fey charm would get under your skin. At first the attachment she develops to Godfrey seems the kind of fondness a lonely, sensitive child might have for a pet. When Irene impetuously kisses Godfrey about half an hour into the film, it’s plain that her childish affection for him is developing into mature love. It’s equally plain that a number of obstacles stand in the way of any romance, including the machinations of the jealous Cornelia, an eminently unsuitable fiancé (Grady Sutton no less), and Godfrey’s own strange reluctance to be anything more than Irene’s avuncular protector.
William Powell is equally marvelous as Godfrey, one of those wily servants in the tradition of Figaro and Jeeves who are constantly outwitting their aristocratic masters. The difference here is that, as we learn well into the film, Godfrey is himself a fallen aristocrat. Powell always had the ability to project a combination of worldly sophistication and more down-to-earth qualities. Here we see Godfrey’s urbanity in his scenes in the Bullock household, where he maintains a facade of formality and emotional reserve. We see his more demotic qualities in the way he relates to his fellow homeless at the dump and to an old friend from better days whom he accidentally runs across (Alan Mowbray, who is quite good). In psychological terms, this divide between the two sides of Godfrey’s personality is the chief problem he faces in the film, and the account of how this situation came about explains his reticence toward Irene when she throws herself at him. Briefly, Godfrey’s fall from his former circumstances is the result of an unfortunate love affair that caused him to give up on love and nearly to give up on life itself.
In many ways My Man Godfrey can be viewed as an updated fairy tale set against a background of social satire. A royal family isolated in their castle, a king at the end of his tether, a loopy queen under the influence of an evil minstrel, a wicked elder daughter victimizing a naive younger one, a wandering prince disguised as a peasant—you can almost picture the people in the film as characters in a fairy tale by Charles Perrault. As with most fairy tales, My Man Godfrey is a story of transformation. The transformative force here is Godfrey himself, who by the end of the film manages to humanize these inhumane people living in their bubble world.
The most important transformation, though, is the one Godfrey effects on Irene and himself. Through circumstances out of their control, Godfrey and Irene both have developed off-center personalities. In coming together, each restores balance to the other’s personality. She warms him up; he cools her down. She returns him to emotional life and helps him regain his humanity. He brings her down to Earth and helps her discover her own dormant humanity. As in most fairy tales, My Man Godfrey is also a tale of rescue. Irene rescues Godfrey from pessimism and despair. He rescues her from a future as a vapid, self-absorbed nitwit like her mother. His wisdom and her innocence unite to make them two complementary halves of a couple. And what a charming and beautiful couple they are.
How My Man Godfrey made the Top 100:
8 Jason Marshall
WONDERFUL ESSAY!
MY MAN GODFREY could be called and, probably, is the best of the early screwball comedies. It set the tone for films like BRINGIN UP BABY, THE PHILADELPHIA STORY and THE LADY EVE (although EVE has far bigger a social message to it than most of the other films in this sub-genre), never seems dated, and always inspires big laughs in it’s depiction of the “entitled” idiocy of the rich.
The cast, every member, is a veritable whose/who of great comic performers (Alice Brady as the dunder-headed matriarch and the irrepressable Eugene Pallette as Mr. Bullock really shine here) and everyone involved gives it their A game. Lombard is radiantly beautiful but balances that beauty with a lightning timed smarminess that walks a tight-rope between pure precociousness and thruthful adoration. Although her career was cut short in the early 1940’s (plane crash), her work here, and in Lubitsch’s TO BE OR NOT TO BE, illustrates the perfection of a great comic actress in full form. Not till Diane Keaton moved in as Woody Allens leading lady has an actress so fully grasped the concepts of a great one-liner and mastered the physicality of screwball pratfalls (though Kate Hepburn comes close to usurping Lombard for the top slot).
The fire of the film, however, is the ever reliable and perfectly balanced coolness that is William Powell. Watching him here, it’s a wonder why he never reached the immortal heights this film performance promised. The perfect leading man, he’s a combination of dry sophisticated wit tossed together with a kind of world weary wisdom that makes him an all knowing and one-step-ahead-of-the-game presence (I always thought he’d have made a perfect Oz for THE WIZARD OF OZ, even more so than Frank Morgan). If I had to give out a prize for the best comic performance of all time I would, without any hesitation, have Powell as one of the five nominees. I fell in love with his work as a result of seeing him in this film.
Dennis, thank you! I can tell from your high ranking of this film how fond of it you are. Thanks also for you comments about the acting and the actors in the film. I appreciate this (and the comments of others on this subject). I chose to emphasize the characters over the actors because that seemed more appropriate for the tack I was pursuing in this post. Lombard and Powell are both among my favorite actors of the American studio era. Lombard seems to have developed her own mystique, but I agree that Powell doesn’t tend to get the recognition he deserves. This film is a good example of how much a good ensemble of actors can add to a movie, elevating so-so material and putting brilliant material like this over in a way that makes it unforgettable.
“The most important transformation, though, is the one Godfrey effects on Irene and himself. Through circumstances out of their control, Godfrey and Irene both have developed off-center personalities. In coming together, each restores balance to the other’s personality. She warms him up; he cools her down. She returns him to emotional life and helps him regain his humanity. He brings her down to Earth and helps her discover her own dormant humanity. As in most fairy tales, My Man Godfrey is also a tale of rescue. Irene rescues Godfrey from pessimism and despair. He rescues her from a future as a vapid, self-absorbed nitwit like her mother. His wisdom and her innocence unite to make them two complementary halves of a couple. And what a charming and beautiful couple they are.”
Wow R.D., I am speechless. Wonderful stuff sir and you have several passages where you explain how these characters work together in this marvelous film. Very well written. It’s one of the 2-3 best screwball comedies ever. Lombard and Powell are great, as is the father and the protoge who are hilarious as well.
I’m with Dennis though in saying that Lombard was probably the best comedic actress of her era, and probably several decades later before anyone got close.
Jon, thank you. For many years I knew Carole Lombard only from this film and “Nothing Sacred.” Then a few years ago Lombard was TCM’s star of the month, and I was able to get better acquainted with her and loved what I found. One of those new films (to me) was “To Be or Not to Be,” which you recently wrote on so well for the countdown and which like this film shows the gentler and less physical side of her comic sensibility. She was one of the great comic actresses, able to fine tune her comic style to the requirements of the role. I was less enthusiastic about her dramatic roles but thought she was fantastic with Cary Grant in “In Name Only.”
The opening moments of Godfrey show clearly that this is one of the socially aware screwball comedies: The camera slowly sweeps across a painted version of the New York skyline done in Art Deco style as the credits light up on the sides of buildings, until it finally stops at the Queensboro Bridge, where looming in the shadows in the foreground at the foot of the bridge is the squalor of the city dump, a homeless encampment, and the stylized painted image fades into the real thing. This is where Godfrey Smith lives.
R.D., you have written what is surely one of the finest essays of this entire countdown. I know the screwball genre is a particular specialty for you, and your passionate and extraordinarily informed piece frames this timeless classic as well as any essay on it that’s out there. This is one of the best of the screwball films, one of the most irresistible, and one that features the Powell/Lombard chemistry that has been emulated but never really equaled. I think you are quite right in asserting that Lombard’s grasp of the one-liners wasn’t equaled until decades later with Diane Keaton. Yep, this is fairy tale/satire hybrid that takes the bull by the horns in repudiating the reprehensible behavior of the upper class at a time of tragic economic plight. Your “asylym” lead-in is truly masterful, as is your declaration that the film is a prime example of social awareness. Your writing showpiece in descriptively painting the picture of the use of art deco in the Queensboro Bridge sequence, of the city dump squalor and the homeless camp is wonderful. Your review makes a gleefully persuasive case to watch the film for the umteenth time, and I just might over the holidays despite seeing it scacrely two months ago at the Film Forum in a gorgeous print.
Sam, thanks! It’s always a challenge to write about a film that so much has already been written on. I’m relieved that I got the Queensboro Bridge right. It looked distinctive and seemed to match a photo of the Queensboro I found when I Googled “bridges New York.” The only New York bridge I was heretofore able to identify unaided is the Brooklyn Bridge with its distinctive twin Gothic arches. I wasn’t able to mention the great photography with light constantly gleaming off reflective surfaces and fabrics without going off-topic, but I’m sure that aspect of the film really stood out in the Film Forum showing you attended.
This is my own favorite screwball comedy. What a treat to read such a masterful treatment of it by Richard Finch. The film is an succinct commentary of the times, and of how self-absorbed American concern themselves with matter that are frivolous in the general scheme. Powell and Lombard give titanic performances and deserve all the high praise they are getting on the thread.
Frank, I see you placed this film very high on your own ballot, so I can well understand it’s your favorite screwball. The film IS very subtly written by Morrie Ryskind et al. with an incredible articulacy to its dialogue–and as others in the thread noted, some hilarious one-liners–for a film not based on a stage play. It’s a model of perfect balance between social commentary and humor, whereas in so many screwballs one or the other dominates and the equlibrium of “Godfrey” isn’t achieved.
IR. D. – love this movie, and your post here perfectly sums up its brilliance and lasting appeal. Powell and Lombard had such marvelous chemistry together – I know they were married briefly, but don’t recall if they were still together when this film was made.
Pat, they were married for a couple of years in the early 30s but were divorced when this film was made. That didn’t seem to diminish their screen chemistry, though!
The story of how Lombard got the part is quite interesting. It was supposed to star Constance Bennett, who had made a couple films with Gregory La Cava. (TCM just showed one, “Bed of Roses,” and while no “Godfrey” it was still quite enjoyable, and being pre-Code pretty racy too.) La Cava wanted to borrow Powell from MGM, but Powell would agree only if Lombard played opposite him. Don’t know why, but maybe he saw it as a star-making role for her. I can see why La Cava insisted on Powell for Godfrey. The part might have been written for him. I think he was fortunate to get Lombard too, because I just can’t see raspy-voiced Constance Bennett projecting the sweetness and vulnerability Lombard invested in the character.
R.D. – As always a magnificent review. Lombard, along with Jean Arthur, are my favorite comedic actresses from this period. Powell and Lombard made for a great team and as you mention, the wonderful Eugene Pallette has never been better.
Thanks, John. I’m a big fan of Jean Arthur too. I took some flak a couple of years ago when I suggested that when Mischa Auer, not Eugene Pallette, was nominated for a best supporting actor Oscar for this film–the first year supporting acting awards were given–the wrong man was nominated. In fact, both Powell and Lombard were nominated (her only nomination) as was Alice Brady for best supporting actress. La Cava also got a nomination for best director. But the film was not nominated for best picture even though ten films were nominated that year. Another puzzlement from the Academy.
Even so, Godfrey doesn’t bludgeon the audience with its social commentary the way a Capra movie can.
Looks like I’m the odd man out here as I consider this film to be a bit heavy-handed in its social commentary. In particular, what compounds the problem – while also undermining one of the film’s most important themes – is that Powell’s character is himself a “fallen aristocrat,” thereby implying that Powell can rise to the top simply because he once inhabited the upper class. This revelation rather hacks away at the American dream. To me, it would’ve been more effective if Powell had indeed been a “man of the people” whose potential for leadership was organic rather than temporarily derailed by a love affair gone bad.
Pierre, you’re not alone in seeing the film as undermining its message by making Godfrey an aristocrat himself. Andrew Sarris had the same reaction. Of course, there are clues to this–for example, his educated conversation and accent and his knowledge of the duties and deportment of a butler in a rich household like the Bullocks’, not something a homeless man is likely to have much experience with. Seeing Godfrey’s background as a problem with the film is true especially if you see this kind of movie as primarily a social document. That’s why I see character and psychology in the foreground of this film and social observation in the background. But that social observation is grounded in reality, and it is an important part of the characters and the way they think.
This device of having a character like Godfrey actually not be the commoner he appears to be is an old one in fairy tales and many other American movies of the 30s. It’s as though the filmmakers were more willing to tackle the theme of overturning personal prejudices, and the extension of this to overturning societal prejudices is by implication if at all. But I still prefer Godfrey as a human being with obvious flaws and hidden talents rather than as a proselytizer.
Thanks, R.D., for your thoughtful, well-reasoned response. My general preference regarding films with messages is for the messages to be more subtle, with entertainment the primary thing. Although you may agree with that notion, it may be that my preference toward subtlety is stronger. In actuality, I do like the film, but not enough to place it on my top 60 list. Thanks!
This piece is a great read, R.D., with a lot to think about – I have now read it all the way through three times! Must agree this is one of the great screwball comedies and that both Powell and Lombard are excellent. I feel the film has quite a strong social message but for me the entertainment is all the better for that element of bite. I do agree with Pierre’s comment above about the revelation that Godfrey is really an aristocrat coming as something of a cop-out and damaging the film in its later scenes. But for me this, and the various elements of conservativism/pushing of the work ethic you trace in your review, can’t in the end take away from the power of that devastating opening that you trace, with the man picked up from the rubbish dump as a prop for a party game.
I’ve been trying to work out why it is that this film is so much greater than La Cava’s similar tale with the sexes reversed, ‘Fifth Avenue Girl’, and I think the main problem is that the latter doesn’t give much scope to Ginger Rogers and there is no chemistry between her and Tim Holt – whereas in ‘My Man Godfrey’ Powell and Lombard have loads of chemistry and the script is great, with so many good one-liners, as you say.
Judy et al: Have you ever seen “A Man’s Castle” (otherwise known as “Man’s Castle”)? Though not a comedy, I find it to be an effective depiction of the social realities of the Depression era. It stars Loretta Young and Spencer Tracy: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Man%27s_Castle
Pierre, yes, this is one of my favourite pre-Codes and I’ve watched it quite a few times – a great shame it still hasn’t had a DVD release. I do agree that it shows the social realities although it casts them in a strangely romantic light, but that is Borzage! I did actually review it a while back if you have the time to look, and included a few nice pictures from the movie:
http://movieclassics.wordpress.com/2010/06/06/mans-castle-1933/
Thanks for the link. I don’t recall plot details – having seen this only once – what I do recall is liking Tracy’s performance very much and also the pre-code frankness.