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| Eccentric Martin Vanderhof (Lionel Barrymore) tries to explain his philosophy to banker Anthony Kirby (Edward Arnold). |
Release Date: Aug. 23, 1938. Running Time: 126 minutes. Screenplay: Robert Riskin. Based on the play by: George Kaufman and Moss Hart. Producer: Frank Capra. Director: Frank Capra.
THE PLOT:
Anthony P. Kirby (Edward Arnold), banking and investment mogul, has a plan to put his greatest competitor out of business. There's just one impediment: a single house, owned by aging eccentric Martin Vanderhof (Lionel Barrymore), who refuses to sell at any price.
Martin's house is home to a large family of eccentrics, all of whom spend their days in pursuit of whatever they enjoy. Martin's daughter (Sping Byington) writes plays. Her husband (Samuel S. Hinds) creates fireworks with an iceman (Halliwell Hobbes) who came to make a delivery nine years ago and never left. The newest arrival, Poppins (Donald Meek) is a former accountant who prefers to make toys and monster masks.
The most conventional member of the household is Martin's granddaughter, Alice (Jean Arthur), who is working as a stenographer at Kirby's bank. She has fallen in love with the banker's son, Tony (James Stewart). When Tony proposes marriage, Alice says that she will only marry him with his family's approval and insists on inviting the Kirbys to dinner. But when the banker's family shows up for dinner one day early, they become entangled in all the chaos of the household...
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| The Kirbys are not amused by the Vanderhofs' chaotic lifestyle. |
CHARACTERS:
Alice Sycamore: Jean Arthur's star took off with her first film with Frank Capra, Mr. Deeds Goes to Town. As the most "normal" member of the Vanderhof family, she manages to project enough spark and appeal to maintain our interest. Capra also adapts the play to spotlight her more than the stage version, adding scenes of her bonding with her grandfather and moments between her and Tony: a romantic moment in a park followed by a restaurant scene that ends up just shy of slapstick.
Martin Vanderhof: Lionel Barrymore is splendid as Alice's grandfather, the real center of the film; given the movie's other Oscar wins and nominations, I can scarce credit that he went unrecognized. Martin observes everything from his crutches (added to the script to compensate for Barrymore's advancing arthritis), reacting to all with gentle indulgence in his voice and a knowing twinkle in his eye. For the most part, he is soft spoken even when pressured; but near the end, he blows up at Mr. Kirby, denouncing him as "a dull-witted fool" and "a failure as a human being" - which is all the more effective for the contrast it strikes with the rest of the performance.
Tony Kirby: Is more of a kindred spirit to the Vanderofs than to his own parents. It's all he can do to keep from laughing out loud as Martin confuses an IRS man by asking what he gets for paying taxes; he shows no interest in banking and, in the park with Alice, talks about agricultural experiments he did with a friend in college. The film plays up Tony's mischievous side, with him surreptitiously planting a sign on Alice's back ("Nuts!") before they go to an upscale restaurant which he disrupts with a prank. James Stewart, in the first of three collaborations with Capra, is good in these moments, and manages to keep the character consistent even in his more serious scenes late in the picture.
Anthony P. Kirby: In his way, Kirby is as much the heart of the film as Martin, who long ago rejected the very life of business and finance that Kirby has embraced. In effect, when the two men meet, each sees the life he might have had. Edward Arnold has a difficult role, having to be the stern antagonist throughout while at the same time giving enough glimpses of humanity to make the ending plausible. When Martin's daughter labels Mrs. Kirby (Mary Forbes)'s interest in the occult "silly," Arnold reacts with a brief smile, and you can sense how pleased he is to hear said something he's been keeping silent about. After the big night, Kirby keeps staring at something Martin gave him: a harmonica, given after his admission that he used to play but gave it up because he no longer has time for foolish pursuits.
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| Tony (James Stewart) talks with Alice (Jean Arthur) about his true interests. |
THOUGHTS:
I've seen multiple stage productions of You Can't Take It with You, some that were good and one or two that were terrible. As a result, I approached the movie without enthusiasm. Despite a first-rate cast and my great respect for Frank Capra's films, I couldn't help but feel that watching this would be depressingly like sitting down to a rerun of a show I'd already seen a time or two too many.
Happily, I ended up thoroughly enjoying it. Despite the familiar story, Capra's movie feels fresh and new. At several points, I found myself laughing out loud, and a smile rested on my face for the majority of the two-hour running time.
Unlike many vintage movies based on stage works, this always feels like a movie. Capra and screenwriter Robert Riskin have opened it up at every turn, adding scenes and entire subplots, not least of which is the strand with Kirby wanting to purchase the house. We are taken into Kirby's bank and boardroom, as well as to a jail cell and a courtroom - amusingly presided over by a bemused and weary night court judge (Harry Davenport, perfect in a small but very funny role). When Martin talks about how lucky he is to have friends, we now see all those friends - effectively, the entire neighborhood in which he lives. All of these additions are done with care, the new material sitting seamlessly alongside the old, so that the spirit that made the play so popular remains intact.
Even when sticking to the original text, Capra uses a deft hand. Bad productions of You Can't Take It with You go too far with the chaos and craziness, turning the stage into a noisy and frenetic mess. Capra only allows full chaos to emerge in brief spurts; and when he does, he keeps his focus on the reaction of outsiders (Tony, the IRS man, the Kirbys), rather than on trying to wring laughs purely from the "crazy behavior." Thus, even the most over-the-top moments remain grounded in humanity.
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| The Vanderhof home, in all its comfortable daily chaos. |
OVERALL:
Did it deserve Best Picture? That's tough to say. If pressed, I would probably have cast my vote for Grand Illusion, the outstanding French World War I movie. But of the 1938 nominees that I've seen, You Can't Take It with You is unquestionably the warmest and most likable. This is a film overflowing with humanity - and it is that, more than anything else, that I think I'll remember it for.
Overall Rating: 9/10.
Outstanding Production - 1937: The Life of Emile Zola
Outstanding Production - 1939: Gone with the Wind
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