Some last thoughts on Sullivan's Travels

I wish I would've had more time for this lovely film from Preston Sturges. His dialogue never gets old for me. I can listen to it over and over, and this is true for Sullivan's Travels as well. Sturges goes beyond the defining points of the screwball comedy with this film and kind of changes the rules a bit by parodying, not a romance, but the film industry instead. So, while we don't have a couple we're rooting for, we still have a hero who must open his eyes to see the truth, in this case, that perhaps comedy is his true calling, instead of that drama he thinks he should make.

Looking back, Sturges is good at setting the pace. The film never drags along and in scenes in which you would think might go slow, Sturges uses visual storytelling to its utmost perfection by showing scenes quickly without dialogue and letting the action move the story along. He does this by scattering bits of everyday comedy into serious scenes so as to not burden the moment with a reality that is depressing. The effect is great because you never think he's making light of the stark circumstances of many people, but instead he tries to show the humor in the little things, like the funny way some of the tramps eat.

Tone is another important factor in any film, and Sturges sets it right away. The opening sequence is filled with so much dialogue between Sullivan and the producers that isn't just quick, but funny. It's like nothing you really get to hear, the dead honest remark of making sure that the film has "a little sex in it" is enough to make people laugh even today. And this tone remains constant, even with the more serious depictions of the hard life the tramps lead, Sturges never lets it dwell too much in sober thought because, again, he shows the funny side of hard times, and in a tasteful manner too.

The lead is rightly cast, something I've mentioned before. Joel McCrea brings the right sort of acting style that Sturges is able to use well. There's something about McCrea that he seems to sort of just deliver his lines, but there's never much rise and fall in his voice. And that isn't to say that he doesn't act because he wouldn't have been able to pull Sullivan off. But there's something in the way he acts that is perfect for the Sturges hero, that sort of wide-eyed wonder that Margaret Sullavan pulls off in The Good Fairy. Sullivan isn't naïve like Luisa Ginglebuscher, but he is quite innocent when it comes to knowing anything about trouble. He assumes it's something he can just go and experiment about and that'll be that, but it's not so simple.

The remaining cast is made up of Veronica Lake--a true delight to see here--and pretty much Sturges' stock company. Again, this is mostly Sullivan's story, but when the supporting cast does get on screen they shine brighter that McCrea. This makes it more entertaining to watch, especially when the lead isn't in the picture. It's that bit of comic relief everyone enjoys. Following Sullivan on that caravan or land yacht, the crew works together with ineffable chemistry and synchronization that doesn't just translate to dialogue, but also to physical comedy. They steal the show in the car chase scene with their bit of slapstick that makes that particular scene enjoyable to watch.

I've read somewhere that Sturges sold the first true spec script. I don't think he was the first writer/director, but he most likely did start a trend in which writers started claiming more creative control of their work. And to be honest, I'm glad Sturges made that leap to writer/director. It's obvious by the strong script he wrote that he had a clear image of the film he envisioned. He wasn't simply a writer, he wrote like a director. And perhaps the script is the greatest strength of the film. Without a good script, you just can't make a good film, not even the best director out there could pull it off.

There's more to discover in Sullivan's Travels, and perhaps if I had more time, I would've managed to get more out of it. But I walk away with a deeper appreciation for Sturges, the detail he took in writing his script, the balance between comedy and drama he brings to the film and still manages to make it his own. I am in complete awe of his creative skills, that he can write dialogue so well and at the same time master visual storytelling, it's something you certainly don't see today. Sturges could make you laugh in any way possible, and that's the big takeaway from this film, and rightly so. The reason why Sullivan's Travels is so successful is because he's telling you there's nothing like a comedy film, and Sturges does so through a comedy film, with no pretenses, because it really does make you laugh. If you haven't taken the time to watch it, it's a must-see for any film fan.

Written and Directed by Sturges

I have to say, I’m a big fan of Preston Sturges, but it wasn’t until now that I’ve sat down and read one of his screenplays. And in reading the script for Sullivan’s Travels, I’m reminded of the Trouble in Paradise script—not that big of a surprise considering Ernst Lubitsch is name-dropped about five times throughout the film. Sturges puts much detail in his script, things are well thought out, and not much is left on the cutting room floor, much like Lubitsch demanded of his scripts.

The first thing that stood out was how well action scenes were written. It's obvious that Sturges wrote this script thinking he would direct it. And although I have already seen the film, I could visualize every image as described. The car chase scene near the beginning, which is pretty much just visual storytelling, describes in one instance objects in the land yacht as being turned over like "potatoes in a skillet."

The montage in the middle of the film, is also well described, like the instance in which Sullivan and the Girl take turns jumping around when a sudden itch strikes their back. But then, in that same scene, when the Girl is at the shower stall, nothing is mentioned except that the action would be devised later on. Sturges couldn't put to paper something for that particular moment, and it goes to show that he was thinking of specific actions, instead of just saying something vague. What I like most about this, is the whole idea of just getting the script done. Sturges didn't let a roadblock stop him. He made a note of it, and moved on so that he could finish the scene.

One thing I like about this script, that I noticed while watching the film, is that it's a sequence film. I never noticed sequence storytelling until I read and watched Trouble in Paradise, and I've become such a big fan of it. I find it to be a much more clearer way of establishing story and I love the fact that each sequence has a goal, that each sequence is like a mini-movie. That being said, the sequence in which Sullivan stays with the two sisters always seemed a bit off to me. When Miz Zeffie calls out to Sullivan from up in the room she was preparing for him, Sullivan has a look of utter irritation. And while it's understandable straightaway that she's a bit unbearable, there is a bit of history behind that look, which is more clear upon reading the script. The last couple of times I've watched the film, I wondered how Sullivan ended up there when it's obvious he doesn't want to be there. In the script, the sequence starts out in a car ride Sullivan gets from the sheriff, who proceeds to drop him off at the sisters' house, lest he be put in jail for being a vagrant. The sheriff suspects Sullivan's just a bum who doesn't work for a living after seeing his hands that haven't seen a day of hard labor. These sequence also extends a bit the last part as well, and I think it was a wise choice to trim it down, because reading it just seemed to drag the story along, and really it isn't too relevant, only to make the point that Sullivan tries to get trouble, and ends up running away and back in Hollywood.

The ending is also different, although my copy had two endings: the finished one and a working one. The working draft one is pretty much the same, only Mr. Burrows talks a bit in the beginning. Then the ending, Sullivan tells the crew his plans to make a comedy, then proceeds to tell them who he will dedicate it to. This dedication is what appears in the final film, only in this ending, as Sullivan says a phrase, it's overlapped with images of different people laughing, the same images we see in the finished film. I never really cared too much either way for the last clips of people laughing, but I do have to agree again with the decision to stick with the finished film's ending. I think the working draft ending would've just dragged it on a bit too much, and it would've seem more Capraesque. With this film, Sturges is satirizing the film business, but he brings enough drama to balance out a serious topic in the 1940s. His serious scenes do evoke Capra, but he never allows them to dwell there because in the next clip, Sturges is showing you physical comedy. The finished film's ending still drives across the point he makes without getting too dramatic.

From my understanding, Sturges had been fighting to direct his own screenplays, and when you read a script like Sullivan's Travels, you see that it wasn't for naught. He had a clear vision and more importantly a unique voice. It makes you wonder how a film like The Good Fairy would've turned out had Sturges taken the helm. Sturges had a gift for dialogue, but also a gift for physical comedy, and he was able to get this across clearly on the printed page. The dialogue doesn't even need direction because the tone is apparent within the actual dialogue. And the action scenes are so well laid out without a lot of wordiness that it almost seems choreographed. Sturges wrote an incredible script and it's worth a couple of careful readings.

Sullivan's Travels as a screwball comedy

Here again is another film that pushes the defining requisites of a screwball comedy. Is Sullivan’s Travels a true screwball? According to what the “rules” are the answer would be no. But perhaps a better answer would be that, like most of the films of the late 30s and early 40s, this film further evolves the genre, and redefines comedy in general.

One of the biggest differences in this film with screwballs is that this isn't a typical love story. You could say that after watching the film, this is Preston Sturges love letter to the comedy, and you could even say that it's Sullivan's romance with comedy. He's done so many comedies and he wants to do something "meaningful" and dramatic, but of course he knows nothing about trouble. And like in most screwballs, Sullivan has to go through a whole lot of screwy trouble to finally realize who he's meant to be with, and in this case, he's meant to be doing comedies.

On the other hand, this film is very much like other screwballs when it gets down to the comedy and dialogue. No one writes dialogue better than Sturges. Some might think he's overrated, but he has an uncanny way of writing satire, parody, and to be able to evoke such performances out of actors who look doe-eyed all the while. Some of the best dialogue is in the opening scene between Sullivan and the film producers. Each producer tries to top one after the other with another greater instance of trouble that is so ridiculous that Sullivan quiets down. Dialogue is also memorable in the first meeting between the Girl and Sullivan. When Sullivan gets a bit too inquisitive, the Girl is quick to shoot back, "I didn't ask you any questions." And while it's not the famous repartee between two romantic leads in a typical film of the genre, the dialogue in this film is still classic and top-notch.

Now, while the screwball hero in this instance is a privileged boy who went to boarding school as a kid, we still sympathize with him, perhaps because of he's crazy scheme. He doesn't know trouble so he's going to find out, and no matter how many times he tries he ends up back in Hollywood, but he's determined. As an innocent of all things trouble, Sullivan is surrounded by tramps who are much "wiser" than him. This differences in classes is again something seen in screwballs, not the way portrayed in this film, but it's still a different way of looking at things. In fact, the big transformation for Sullivan is when he's mugged and loses his memory and ends up in jail. When he actually suffers and sees a comedy picture show and truly laughs, it's like the light bulb goes off in his head and his eyes open wide. He gets that wisdom, and in that he sees he's meant to be with comedies.

What Sturges does with Sullivan's Travels is take the screwball comedy, which parodies the romantic comedy, and instead uses these rules to parody the film business and a picture show director. So you take away the romance, but stay relatively within the boundaries, and you have a type of screwball comedy, although not quite. It's a bit of same but different that Hollywood always seeks, and Sturges makes one funny film by stretching the rules of the genre.

Visual Storytelling in Sullivan's Travels

I’ve mentioned this before but one of Sullivan’s Travels’ strengths is the versatility with comedy. Not only is Preston Sturges a master when it comes to fast and hilarious dialogue, but he has a knack for physical comedy but most importantly visual storytelling. This is something not necessarily pointed out in screwball comedies, in the sense that screwballs tend to highlight more the repartee. But Sturges does it so well that’s it’s worth a mention.

There are a few dialogueless scenes throughout the film. One is the car chase scene that resembles something out of cartoon. Before we even get to it, we hear the crew following Sullivan in his experiment in the caravan going on about the nutty idea. Sullivan himself feels like he’s being babysitted so he hitches a ride with a kid in a drag race car and mayhem ensues. The scene is a wonderful boost of energy and hilarity, and like I said, exactly what you might see in a vintage cartoon or even a silent comedy film. Legs are flying in the air, a cop is thrown mud several times before he can take off on his motorcycle, and things are crashing left and right. Sturges takes what could’ve been a dull moment and entertains; you have to watch it to fully enjoy it. This sort of storytelling also takes advantage of pace, which Sturges uses to it’s utmost extent in another scene.

A bit halfway through the film, there’s a montage of Sullivan and the Girl living as tramps and assimilating to that lifestyle. It is here that Sturges shows a fine balance between funny and serious. The depression is a serious topic as its name suggests, and Sturges doesn’t make fun of it but instead he shows the lighter side of it. For every homeless person eating a meal at a shelter, there’s another image of Sullivan eating the same meal with disgust. You see all the tramps showering, and then there’s the Girl showering in a stall with a look of utter discomfort all over her face. And when they all sleep on the floor, it’s depressing but at the same time comical with hands in all over. The montage gives the effect of a few days having passed by, maybe more, and what is normally a slow-moving detail speeds up quite quickly due to the comedic sides of the experience. What struck me most about this montage is how Capraesque it is in some areas but at the same time Sturges makes it his own by providing the lighter moments and physical comedy. He never gets too serious, which is kind of the point he’s trying to make in satirizing Sullivan’s exploration.

There’s one final bit near the end when Sullivan confesses to killing John L. Sullivan. What could be a bit melodramatic return of Sullivan turns out to be, again, quite comedic. The Girl reads the newspaper and runs to the producers to show them the news that Sullivan is alive, everyone meets and starts celebrating. Sullivan's wife is upset and next thing you know, Sullivan is on a plane back and surrounded by reporters. In a short montage, many events occur to speed the story along, which in this case is needed to wrap up the film. Sturges could've played it all out, but there's really no point since its much more effective, entertaining, and it re-emphasizes the point of using comedy, which is the lesson Sullivan learns in the end.

Visual storytelling is something I wish I'd see more of today in films and it's always refreshing to see it done so well as it's done in Sullivan's Travels. Sturges uses it well to speed up the story and to always keep things light during serious topics. Most importantly, he uses visual storytelling to drive his point across that in times of trouble, laughter is all people have sometimes.

Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?

There's something that must be said about a good opening scene. It has to grab you by the throat and demand that you stay put in your seat and watch. Some of the best opening scenes start in media res, right smack in the middle of the action and it immediately captures your attention. You become involved whether you want to or not. And the great thing about Sullivan's Travels opening scene is that it has a fight scene on a moving train. And for the firs three minutes or so you don't know what's going on but you're curious as to what's going on.

But the end credits roll and you hear Joel McCrea start taking about films. This sets off what is a purely dialogue-driven scene. The speed in which the dialogue is delivered sets the pace right away in the sense that this is gonna be a fast-moving film. It is funny dialogue, parodying the filmmaking business, which clearly shows the tone of the film. The best line that keeps getting repeated is that the film be "with a little sex in it." But there's talk of Communists and a running joke on Pittsburgh I had no idea dated back at least to the 1940s.

There's no introduction of a female lead at this point, but clearly this film isn't about love, although love does factor in later on. Or rather the love is different. This is, if anything, a love affair Sullivan has with films. He's so dead-set on making a drama about poverty, but doesn't know the first thing about trouble, which the producers make clear to him. This gives him the bone-headed idea to go live as a tramp to find out in order to make that meaningful film he wants to make. So while there is no romantic interest at this point in the form of a female lead, you could argue that Sullivan's romantic interest here is film, or maybe the perfect film he so imagines. The producers push the musical or comedy but he wants none of it, so of course we get the hint that this might just be what is the perfect film for him.

This quick opening scene does just the trick in grabbing your attention. It's clear that Sullivan's Travels is another film that's redefining the comedy genre but still grasping on to screwball roots. The tone and pace is set straight away and we're introduced to the main character and conflict straight off as well. There's nothing ambiguous going on here. On the contrary, we can be sure we're gonna have a great laugh for the next 90 minutes.

Sullivan's Travels (1942)

I saw Sullivan’s Travels for the first time a few years ago and laughed so much, really enjoyed it, but didn’t see it again until recently. And it’s a shame because I really, really like this film. It’s so well made that I can’t say enough about it. And it’s such a good film to kind of wrap up the whole screwball comedy genre, and I’m so upset that I haven’t had time to properly watch this film this past month! So this last week I’m gonna try to take a closer look at it as best as I can.

The thing that stands out admirably so in this film is the way that it's funny. A lot of times you see stories that are funny but there are different types of funny. Some people might enjoy innuendoes while others like gross-out humor, and still others like physical comedy. What Preston Sturges shows in this film is that he's a master when it comes to comedy. He doesn't just have the dialogue so vital to a screwball comedy to back him up, he can also rely on his slapstick humor.

There are many great bits of dialogue throughout, many of which are delivered so deadpan serious that it makes you laugh. Back then at least you didn't really hear or see a parody of the filmmaking business like Sturges manages to do. It's great to see the producers being so candid about a film needing a bit of sex, and delivered with the seriousness of terminal illness. When Sullivan and the Girl meet at the diner, there we see some lovely bit of banter so reminiscent of the genre. And then there's Sullivan's crew who always come back with great one-liners. The film's filled with great dialogue but if you already know Sturges then you expected it.

But just like the dialogue, Sturges executes these great montages. There is so much physical comedy here that works well. There's this car chase scene that's reminiscent of one of those cartoon from vintage Disney or Looney Tunes, but then really thinking about it, it's more like the slapstick of silent films. This is more clear halfway through the film when Sullivan and the Girl are in the midst of the wandering homeless, and trying to survive. Their initial observations and experience are quite hilarious, more so their final reaction which is to run back home.

And what of the leads? I often think not enough love is given to Joel McCrea. He might come off a bit stiff sometimes, kinda just delivering lines a bit, but I think Sturges uses him here marvelously. And who's gonna complain about seeing a shirtless McCrea? I didn't count the times but I probably should next time. Veronica Lake is also lovely. This film was the first one I saw her in and it was refreshing considering I thought she might be a bit of a vamp. She comes off so down-to-earth and funny. I absolutely love the scene in which she and McCrea first share. She can hold up her own against him and I like her for it.

Now, considering this is mostly Joel McCrea's film, the supporting cast does a great job whenever they're on screen. Sturges uses his stock company so well that whenever they're on screen they steal the show. I enjoy watching those scenes so much just to see they're acting. The actors themselves are so in sync with one another that it adds to the hilarity and makes it go so much faster and smoother.

This very funny film is a must see for any classic film fan or comedy fan in general. Sullivan's Travels is one of those films in which you can truly appreciate the effort taken to make the film. That it's not just funny dialogue but funny to watch and with a great cast all around, makes it a memorable film and a good addition to the comedy genre.

A few final thoughts on The Good Fairy

From all three of the films I've watched so far this year, The Good Fairy turned out to be quite different from either of the other two. It wasn't so much the dialogue style, but rather the unconventional way of waiting to introduce one half of the couple until halfway through the film. This allowed for a different take on telling the story and at the same time allowed for showcasing the supporting cast for a change. In general, the film turned out to be quite enjoyable and highlighted some important points to the screwball comedy.

In any sort of film, setting the tone is so important and what I love most about this film is that the tone is set right away with a simple exchange. And it's done in such a natural way, as if things are always like that, which leads you to believe that this world we're watching is pretty screwbally. You know this from the fact that when the young orphan girl says, "Yes ma'am," she curtsies at the same time; she's not being disrespectful, quite the contrary. In fact this serves to let the audience know that if anything, things may be backwards from here on out. This setting of tone isn't done late in the game, but instead it's done right away, especially after the whole view of the orphanage and the girls. It allows you to sit back and relax and watch the film, knowing exactly what kind of story will be told.

Our screwball heroine is Luisa Ginglebuscher, as played by Margaret Sullavan. I can't imagine someone else playing Luisa the way Sullavan does, with the star-struck eyes she flashes in this new world she's in outside of the orphanage. William Wyler used a lot of close-ups of Sullavan in this film, which apparently the studio wasn't too happy about, but I think that Wyler was wise in doing this, whether it was out of lovesickness or his actual cinematic vision. Seeing Luisa's reaction to being in the party at Detlaff's hotel or while she's in the theatre is exactly what we need to fall in love with her. Luisa isn't the wise-cracking or quick-witted heroines typical of the genre; she's innocent, but not in an irritating way. In fact, her simplicity at getting out of reach from the men who are after her is to tell them she's married. And when they question the veracity of her statement, she scrambles at trying to find an unsuspecting "husband." So while she's a different type of screwball heroine, she still sets up a ridiculous situation that turns screwy and in the end falls in love with the hero.

Herbert Marshall as the hero Dr Sporum doesn't come in until halfway through and when he's finally introduced he is a bearded fellow who appears stuffy and not too friendly. And while Luisa is the lead character of the film, it is Dr Sporum who undergoes the transformation in the film, changing into a happier man who turns generous with his newfound success. Of course, what he doesn't realize until the end is that the real change is because he's fallen in love.

The late introduction of Dr Sporum is one I don't really understand, but it works. What I assume happened was that the banter, which occurred mostly between Detlaff and Konrad, elongated the first half of the film. It's perhaps one of the strangest things to see in film, for your hero to come in so late, but in the second half of the film, Marshall is in almost all the scenes. The story was divided neatly so that the second half's pure focus is on Marshall and his newfound fortune.

The supporting cast was not just wonderful to watch, but their roles were written brilliantly. One of the things I enjoyed most is that Preston Sturges made the supporting cast say things that matter. This is especially true of the bit players, such as Beulah Bondi, Alan Hale, and Eric Blore. They're on screen for such little time but when they're on, they're memorable. I can imagine that as an actor, they must've appreciated that. Then there's Frank Morgan and Reginald Owen, who are great at fighting back and forth. Owen, as I've mentioned previously, steals the show, proving to be the true Good Fairy in my opinion. All of these characters serve a purpose, even if it is to make you laugh, which in this genre is quite important.

The pace is something I never really noticed too much in this film. This is probably because I was that entertained watching it. When Marshall finally came on screen I knew the film was halfway through and I couldn't believe it. I think the dialogue and the laughs that come out of it helps the pace move along, it keeps you involved in the film so that you don't notice that almost two hours have passed by once the film is done. And if you really think about, scenes are dragged out, but mostly for laughs. Otherwise, is it important to see someone order food? At the same time, this scene doesn't just create laughs, but it also creates tension. Detlaff wants to get Luisa out of Konrad's private room and it just isn't happening. In this, Sturges is brilliant in writing a scene that serves two purposes.

The Good Fairy is quite a silly movie that will have you laughing along the way. The fact that it's different from other films of the same genre, even today, is what makes this a stand-out from others. It's refreshing to watch something and at the very least it's not the same cookie-cutter film. Its strong point is, as mentioned before, the script, which Sturges wrote wonderfully. But Wyler takes credit too in being wise about not changing the film to something completely different and understanding what Sturges wrote. Wyler uses some great moments with Sullavan to show visual storytelling, and he gets memorable performances out of a great cast. It's a complete shame, though, that The Good Fairy has been forgotten. It's an absolute hidden gem that will have you laughing in no time.

Memorable dialogue in The Good Fairy

One of the best things about The Good Fairy is the dialogue. Earlier when I looked back on the film, I found so many great lines and the delivery of those lines were equally as great. It's hard to picture the film being told otherwise. In fact, I read that Preston Sturges based his script rather loosely from the play by Ferenc Molnár, and I believe it because I find it hard to believe any other writer could be responsible for a character like Detlaff.

A very important use of dialogue comes at the very beginning of the film and it set the tone right away. The exchange between Shlapkohl and the young orphan girl who answers the door is a misunderstanding that turns silly at the end. This interaction in itself is what screwball comedy is about: the misunderstanding which eventually leads to a conflict that develops across the film. In this particular case, the misunderstanding doesn't do that, but when the misunderstanding continues and the orphan girl nods that she understands in spite of the tripping-up of words, she goes on to call Shlapkohl ma'am instead of sir. What does this tell us? While the current setting is at an orphan asylum, and it is terrible to see all those girls of all ages without parents, this film isn't going to be Oliver Twist.

Perhaps my favorite exchange comes later on at the party when Detlaff shows up at Konrad's private room to check up on Luisa but under the guise to take their order. What follows between them is the most ridiculous bit of words in the film. Konrad orders lobster soup, Detlaff informs him that the chef doesn't know how to make any sort of soup. Konrad asks about the fish, Detlaff informs him it must've gone bad because the ice in the packaging melted along the way to the hotel from the channel. And what about the lamb dish? Why, it's leathery. How can lamb be leathery? Because Detlaff suspects it must be goat. Throughout this entire exchange Konrad grows more irritated by the second, while Detlaff keeps a straight stern face and agrees with Konrad that there's nothing first class about the hotel except the prices. This bit made me laugh so much, yes it drags on, but the execution of it is great.

Aside from some great laughs, dialogue is used to convey important bits of information to the plot. When Luisa is introduced, she is climbing up a ladder to put away dishes, meanwhile she tells the younger girls a story about a Good Fairy. The screwballiness comes in when at the top of the ladder she takes a broom and bounces up and down repeating,

“Wampa wampa, Wumpa wumpa, Eenie meenie minie mo; Sweet and faithful Rosalinda, Take me where I want to go.”

This introduction of a clumsy Luisa is another memorable moment in the film, but it also serves as an important point. Later, when asked how she'd behave if let out into the real world, if she'd do her good deed, she joins hands with the little girls and recites an oath about doing good deeds. So, when the innocent Luisa is caught in the predicament with Konrad, who wants to spoil her with riches and furs, and jewels, and things, lots of expensive things, and he decides to do so via her non-existant husband, it's only natural for her to think that by allowing Konrad to make her non-existent husband rich, she is doing her good deed for a poor lawyer out there who really needs it. And how does she pick this husband? By repeating the "Wampa wampa" speech over a phonebook. This idea of the Good Fairy is something Luisa keeps coming back to in the second half of the film. What does she use as her defense in the last sequence of the film? The Good Fairy defense, she was simply trying to do her good deed.

In this last sequence we also get to see something that is kind of a callback to an earlier scene in the film. Earlier, when Luisa is first starting out as an usherette, she hangs back and watches the film playing on the screen. In this great Go scene as I like to call it, a couple is in the midst of a break-up. All he keeps saying is for her to, "Go!" And all she does is protest, "surely you don't mean it, Meredith. Oh, Meredith!" And while the audience is either sleeping or crying or gets up and leaves, this scene on the screen continues without getting very far. I'm not doing it any justice here by explaining it, because it's really meant to be watched. Sturges wrote a great scene here, parodying the average romantic film. Back to the last sequence, once you reach the end of The Good Fairy, Luisa leaves Dr Sporum's apartment, knowing she's made a mess of things and thinking Dr Sporum will want nothing to do with her again. But once she's on her way out, Dr Sporum gets up and calls after her and says, "Don't go!" The opposite of what happens in the earlier dull melodramatic film playing in the theatre where Luisa works at. The Good Fairy is a fast and entertaining film that gives great laughs and the happy couple ends up together and married in the end.

I think I've gone on and on about Sturges as I've looked back on the film, and the truth of it is that I put more weight on the writers. A script is the backbone to the film, get one part faulty and the whole thing won't work or worse it'll fall apart. I think taking a look at the dialogue is a great example of that. It's very entertaining and smart, allowing you to see the pay-offs at the end of the film. It sets the tone and makes The Good Fairy every bit as much a Preston Sturges film as it is a William Wyler one.

Who exactly is the Good Fairy?

For a film entitled The Good Fairy, you would think that it'd be clear straight away who the Good Fairy is. In fact from the beginning you see the poor orphan Luisa and you jump to the conclusion that she's waiting for her Good Fairy to come and bestow some good fortune her way. But in fact halfway through the film she decides that she will be a Good Fairy to someone out there. And that's just taking her character into account. There are other characters to consider as well.

There are four main characters in this film who all claim or declare another to be the Good Fairy by the end of the film. There's Luisa, then Detlaff the waiter, Konrad the wealthy meat businessman, and finally Dr Sporum the lawyer picked at random via phonebook. I'd say all share the title of Good Fairy by their various actions in one way or another. And this is pretty brilliant in keeping the characters connected with his theme.

Luisa is the one character who would seem to need a fairy but is determined to be one for someone else instead. She showcases the kind of naïveté of Preston Sturges' characters who are put in a situation that grows more ridiculous by the minute. She knows little of the world outside the orphanage and almost seems incapable of surviving in the world, which is why you know she needs a fairy to look out for her. When Luisa tries to shoo away persistent suitors, she announces she's married, which is what gets her into the predicament at hand. As a screwball heroine she's delightful, and Margaret Sullavan plays her well with the perfect innocent reactions which William Wyler captures beautifully. But as a Good Fairy? She seems less likely to be capable of the job.

Yet, when Luisa finally meets Dr Sporum, little by little we start to see that perhaps she very well could be the Good Fairy. After Dr Sporum and Konrad meet, Luisa goes over to check him out, make sure he doesn't do or say anything wrong, which apparently he always does according to Konrad. While Luisa and Dr Sporum meet, there's the arrival of the pencil sharpener with a handles and different holes, and slowly, they hit it off. Luisa finds him silly with his beard and soon enough she's advising him against the black car and to get rid of his beard. And while he's opposed to both suggestions, it's hard to be bothered by Luisa whose wide-eyed wonder is adorable. Before you know it, Dr Sporum has shaved off his beard and bought a new car and is simply happy in Luisa's company, so much so that at the end of the film he confirms to her that she is the Good Fairy who has changed his life completely.

Dr Sporum is perhaps the one with the weakest case for being the Good Fairy, but he is the one who has the true transformation in the film even though he's only in it for half of it. He starts off as a stuffy and snobbish lawyer who seems to know better than anyone else. He has his principles about how life is and he seems to like to almost talk down to others or as he might see to rather educate them in things they don't know. But as soon Luisa picks his name out of the phonebook, his life is changed. And when the two meet, further changes occur. It's as if Dr Sporum let's his guard down with all this newfound succes he's found. His idea that his hard work has finally paid off now allows him to relax. He's even generous with Luisa, never refusing a request of a Ginglebuscher and later even buying her the genuine foxine.

This newfound change in Dr Sporum has made him generous, a quality you don't think he really had before by the way he was reluctant to answer the door to Konrad at first. And his generosity is bestowed upon Luisa. He tells her, while they still go over the pencil sharpener, that he will give her his services for free. Again, later he buys her the genuine foxine. And even though there's that bit of misunderstanding that puts a temporary road block to their romance, he realizes he doesn't want to stop seeing her. He wants to take care of her and he marries her in the closing scene, and as so he can permanently provide for her like a Good Fairy can.

With all his wealth, Konrad would seem the ideal candidate for the Good Fairy, and in a certain sense he is, but rather if you'd call it the Goods Fairy. Konrad is the one character who one could call the antagonist, but he's really so tame. Even still, he pursues Luisa aggressively and even devotedly so that it's funny. He wants to spoil her but upon finding out she's "married" he decides to make her "husband" rich. But he still wants to wine and dine her and drops hints that he'll send Dr Sporum on a South American tour in the near future. Konrad is very silly, but he doesn't own a successful meat business and keeps it running for nothing. He wants Luisa and is trying to provide for her.

So Konrad is the moneybags here. He's the financial backer behind Dr Sporum's sudden generosity and he's the one who ultimately is behind the genuine foxine Luisa gets. The day she spends with Dr Sporum is basically done at Konrad's expense. Does all this make him the Good Fairy? He certainly thinks so. At the end he declares himself to be so, as he's just decided that he will keep Dr Sporum on staff since he could use one good lawyer. And Luisa and Dr Sporum could now be together and get married and live well-off in a fairy tale wonderland.

But finally, the one character who perhaps embodies the Good Fairy role best is Detlaff. And I don't just say that because he's perhaps the best character in the film. He's the Good Fairy in the sense of how we perceive a good fairy to be: selfless, mindful, a guide. And he's got a Cockney accent so who can beat that?

Detlaff enters into the picture and is such a great dose of comic relief. Almost every conversation he has with Luisa is bound with confusion and his reactions are hilarious and endearing all the same because he cares about her without having really known her for very long at all. After some Joe (Cesar Romero!) tries to takes Luisa out for beer and sandwiches, Detlaff, unwillingly and unknowingly, poses as her husband. He then decides to take her out for dinner. After he realizes she's an orphan he decides to invite her over to his hotel for a party that will be hosted there the following evening. Once at the party, he gives her instructions on how to behave and when Konrad shows up, Detlaff is quick to make sure that Luisa's honor remains intact. He is so flustered with worry that you can't help but laugh.

While in the second half Detlaff isn't seen until the last sequence of the film, he shows up determined to make sure that Luisa doesn't get into any trouble. He even kidnaps her from Konrad's room and threatens to tell all. In the end, when the couple is declaring the other as the Good Fairy, Detlaff begins to declare himself the one before Konrad shuts him up. Truth of it is that I think Detlaff really is the Good Fairy of this film. He does this willingly, it comes from inside of him, and he does it without wanting anything in return or as if planning to do something good. It's just in his nature.

I suppose there are many Good Fairies in The Good Fairy, which is pretty neat when you look back at the film and see how all of the main characters are connected in that way as well. But who is the Good Fairy in the end? I suppose what Sturges meant when he wrote that last scene is that just like beauty, who the Good Fairy is is in the eye of the beholder.

Structure of The Good Fairy

A few more looks at The Good Fairy and you start to see how silly it really is. I still chuckled from time to time, but I think that what I saw now was the difference between a complete Preston Sturges film and one just written by him. I think it could've been funnier or even sillier to prevent it from seeming like it was lagging just a tiny bit too much in some scenes. By the end of the film, when Margaret Sullavan is finally telling the truth about her whole Good Fairy intentions, her crying started to irritated me, and I wondered if Sturges would've directed her the same way as William Wyler did.

But again, there were things that caught my attention as I watched it once more. I think I may have mentioned already that one of the things that stood out in a major way was the fact that Herbert Marshall doesn't come in until halfway through the film. That's not only a late introduction but it's unconventional for a romantic comedy to introduce the other half so far into the game already. You have a lot of laughs in the meantime but I checked the counter only to realize it was 42 minutes in. So I decided to try and break down the structure--without a script because I never found one--to see what else is similar or different from other screwball comedies.

Instead of a typical three-act structure, I think the film seems to be split into two acts. This would explain why Marshall's Sporum is introduced so late in the film. The first half of the film is setting up all the mischief and misunderstanding and the love story itself that will occur in the second half. I suppose one could argue that there are three acts but I rather like this division of two acts, which makes more sense in my head. This two-act structure might be more familiar with that of a play, which is what the film was adapted from although IBDB claims it's a three-act play. I suppose an alternative could also be that it's a four-act play with the opening and closing sequences as stand-alone acts, but I digress. The fact that it's not a three-act structure is interesting to me. I'm not sure why it came out this way, but it seems to work.

Sturges' specialty was the comedy film, and in this film you can see his trademark dialogue and slapstick, as well as the visual storytelling, so important to the medium. A lot of what happens in the first act are jokes and misunderstandings. The frustrations between characters are dead-on funny, none more so than Detlaff and Konrad. In fact Detlaff, as played by Reginald Owen, is such a scene-stealer that if you take away one thing from this film it's his performance, typical of a Sturges character. In any case, all this elongated the first act into the first half of the film.

There's also the sequence with Sullavan's Luisa as the usherette and then her hanging back during the screening of a film in which there's the hilarious "Go!" scene with two actors acting out a melodrama. I love that Sturges wrote this, his making fun of romances on film considering that we're about to see a romance develop in this film. Is it relevant? Necessary? I don't care. It made me laugh.

When we finally get to party scene in the hotel, which Detlaff works at, there are several dialogue-free scenes. Luisa taking in the scene is that of a little child just watching all the grown-ups having fun. Then what follows are all her attempts to fit in with minimal distraction: the contents of her purse fly out, she gives her coat ticket to a head waiter instead of keeping it for the night, she waves grandly at a working Detlaff from across the dance floor. Luisa is like Cinderella at the ball, which is kind of what the story is--a Cinderella story.

In this sequence there is also the introduction of Frank Morgan's Konrad, who, as already mentioned has many funny exchanges with Detlaff, is instantly charmed by Luisa. The exchange between the two is that of a an adult with a child at times. Luisa is pretty innocent but she plays dumb to stave off Konrad's advances. It is here finally that the conflict at hand is presented in which Luisa picks a name out of a phonebook and passes off the stranger as her husband so that Konrad can employ him and make him rich so indirectly Konrad can spoil Luisa. And with that, the first half of the film closes.

And the second half begins with a bearded Marshall as Dr Sporum. This half of the film sets into motion everything set up in the first part. Konrad goes over to Sporum's place and offers him a job, but his motives are clear to the careful listener. He intends to send Sporum off to South America at some point to take a tour of the business. Sporum is a stuffy and snobbish person when first introduced but he's probably the only character to go through a major change in the film. When he finally meets Luisa they actually get on quite well. So much so that they go shopping together.

With Luisa believing herself as the good fairy at this point she starts acting it by giving Sporum advise and overseeing his transformation. But most importantly this sequence serves to show that the two are meant to be and fall for one another.

But like most romantic comedies there is the misunderstanding. Sporum thinks Luisa has eyes for another man, but even still they can't stop thinking about one another and on her way to meet Konrad, Luisa calls Sporum and pretty much declares her love for him. Now while she meets Konrad, he declares his love for her, but before he can do anything, Detlaff intervenes and kidnaps Luisa.

As the film winds down the rest is pretty much predictable in that the misunderstandings come to light and then all is explained, but of course the happy couple stays together. What makes this different from the romantic comedies of today? Along the way, this is actually funny. Sure it's silly, but funny all the same.

Breaking this down, what I found interesting is how the ending is typical of most films but I still found myself enjoying it. It takes a long time to get to the conflict, but even still the first half has little bits that tie one sequence to the other, building up to the conflict. But more importantly, it's enjoyable to watch that build-up and you can forgive the tardiness of the hero's introduction. The cast at hand is already entertaining as it is, so you don't mind as much. And so The Good Fairy has a different sort of structure than the typical romantic comedy, but this is a screwball comedy and as such all bets are pretty much off. I think part of the success of this story is that Sturges just went off and made it his own, not following the rules. And having seen the films he did direct, you kinda wonder what he would've made differently with this film.

In an all-girls orphanage

One of the things I wanted to focus on again was the opening of The Good Fairy. Establishing the premise and getting to the point of the story is important in order to be a successfully entertaining film and things are no different here. And while William Wyler is the director of this film, I have to give credit to Preston Sturges because he wrote the script and from the moment a character opens her mouth, it is quite apparent that this is a Preston Sturges screwball comedy.

The opening of the film takes place in the orphanage in which the main character Luisa lives. It's quite sad and dreary-looking. It begins without saying anything but instead showing girls of all ages playing and working together. It almost looked like a commune, which I suppose in a certain sense it is. But what is it that sets this apart from other stories about orphans? It's anything but ordinary. A doorbell rings and a little girl heads for it hurriedly to answer, and the exchange that follows is quite funny, in which people jumble up words and end up saying strange things with straight faces.

The thing about Sturges' dialogue that stands out is that it's not just that it's hilarious, but it's ridiculous. And then the actors themselves deliver the lines as a matter of fact, this is the way things are, you can't help but laugh. But what makes this opening even more standout is that Sturges takes these characters who are quite innocent and naïve but he exaggerates it to move the story forward. But I'm getting ahead of myself. The simple dialogue exchange between Dr Schultz and Shlapkohl establishes from the start the screwballiness of the situation. There have already been misunderstanding with Shlapkohl assuming Dr Schultz is a man, but in their conversation he gets straight to the point. While she wonders if the pants of the uniform are too tight, he says it all depends on the girl. And the truth of it is you have to watch the film, because I don't do it any justice repeating the lines of dialogue.

Soon enough, we meet Luisa, up on top of the ladder, telling fairy stories to the younger girls--this story being essential to the plot of the film. And while she entertains the girls, she sets herself up for a pratfall in which she hangs from the a swinging light fixture from the ceiling and then falls flat on the floor, but still all right. When she's asked if she wants to be an usherette. She agrees, but doesn't know what one is--once again reminding not just Shlapkohl, but the audience how innocent these girls are. Doesn't matter because Shlapkohl is sold. He wants her wrapped up to take home, and he literally says that.

In this brief introduction, Sturges and William Wyler have set up not just the tone of the film, but also set in place essential plot points to the story. The story of the Good Fairy doing her daily good deed, the innocence of Luisa in a world she's only seen from behind the gates of the orphanage, all of it is there before the first ten minutes. But what's most satisfying of it all is that it's thoroughly enjoying and silly. You know that Luisa out in the world will surely find some adventures and that it'll make you laugh the following hour and half away.

The Good Fairy (1935)

I've only seen The Good Fairy once before and it was three years ago in the aforementioned screwball-comedypalooza. I remembered little about it, just that Frank Morgan was after Margaret Sullavan and she was trying to avoid him, plus it was really funny as it was from a script written by master of all things screwball, Preston Sturges. I've seen almost all of Sturges films, either directed or written by him, and even still I had forgotten how funny this film truly is.

What struck me the most different and hilarious about this film wasn't so much the dialogue, which was great, but the whole concept was absolutely ridiculous, so much so that it was just down-right funny. From the name Ginglebuscher to the ingénue, the film is filled with funny all the way around. Actions are just exaggerated and executed well by the players. I found myself unable to stop laughing from time to time, which doesn't happen often.

I absolutely loved the idea of a sheltered girl living in an orphanage being recruited to be an usherette at a movie theatre. And Luisa is willing to be an usherette even though she has no idea what that is. And so out she goes into the world, just trying to mingle and following the rules. It's so adorable you can't help but have a chuckle. But what I love most is how she deals with pushy men that come after her. The answer is to say that she's simply married. This is how she befriends the waiter Detlaff, played stupendously by Reginald Owen, whom she identifies as her husband, and the poor guy has no clue but takes pity on her.

Owen is actually the one stand-out performance to watch in this film. The faces he makes are so out there and his interactions with Morgan are hilarious. It's simply worth it just to watch Morgan grow upset as Owen instigates him in order to get him away from Sullavan. In fact, Lu is thrilled to think of herself as someone's good fairy--who picks out a "husband" via telephone book in order for Konrad to make him rich--but the real good fairy in the film is Detlaff who invites her to a party where he works in order for her to have some fun and then he goes out of his way to protect her, even kidnapping her away from Konrad in a fast-paced sequence filled with falls near the end of the film.

Herbert Marshall as usual is his charming self as Dr Max Sporum, the lawyer whom Lu chooses for Konrad's riches to fall upon. But he's barely on screen, only appearing halfway through. But when he does come on, he's great, wearing an apron--an image I can't get out of my head. He's got a beard, which he shaves off later on, and of course he falls for the heroine.

Morgan looks young here and his laugh is shrilly and almost contagious. He repeats, "You're marvelous" so many times you wanna see a tee-shirt made with him quoting it. My only problem is that he seems like such a good-natured guy to be such a hornball. I don't know if it's because I see him and I see the Wizard, but it's not completely distracting. He does a fine job, mostly because his character is written well.

And so this goes back to the writing. I've noticed the films which Sturges wrote but didn't direct, still stand out. Even if they were changed in someway, there's still that Sturges screwballiness instilled within the story. The names of the characters sound as if they're purely his invention, and the plot of taking someone so fresh out of the womb so to speak and placing them in the real world is another theme which he explores later on in his work. Sturges is one of those writers who cannot be imitated and stands on his own. My only wish is that I could find this script so that I could read it.

I'm a firm believer that anyone can make a decent film if they have an excellent script, which is probably why I give more credit to Sturges than to William Wyler for The Good Fairy. Even still, it's fair to say that Wyler did have final say and was able to deliver a great film that's under-appreciated. But like all great films, it's really a collaboration of all who work on the film, and this film is truly a gem more people should watch. Even if it is to wonder, how would Sturges have directed? Now that's something to ponder on.