1938: You Can't Take It with You.

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...

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.

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.

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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1934: It Happened One Night.

A newspaperman (Clark Gable) helps an heiress
(Claudette Colbert) get from Florida to New York.

Release Date: Feb. 22, 1934. Running Time: 105 minutes. Screenplay: Robert Riskin. Based on the story Night Bus, by Samuel Hopkins Adams. Producer: Frank Capra, Harry Cohn. Director: Frank Capra.


THE PLOT:

Heiress Ellie Andrews (Claudette Colbert) runs away after her wealthy father (Walter Connolly) announces his intent to annul her marriage to a caddish pilot. She evades her father's detectives, sneaking aboard a bus bound from Florida to New York, where she plans to rendezvous with her new sort-of husband.

She is recognized by a fellow passenger: Peter Warne (Clark Gable), a journalist who has just lost his job. After Ellie's luggage is stolen, leaving her with just a few dollars to make it the rest of the way to her destination, Warne strikes a deal with her. He will get her safely to New York in exchange for her story.

But with her father getting her picture onto the front page of every newspaper, the journey will be far from easy. And the more time she spends with Peter, the more Ellie finds herself doubting that the elopement is what she really wants...

Peter rescues Ellie from the boorish Shapely (Roscoe Karns).

CHARACTERS:

Peter Warne: Peter is intelligent and competent - but he is also a little too certain of his expertise in every situation. The movie gets a fair amount of comic mileage from this, as every time he gets too full of himself, something happens to make him look a little foolish. One example comes after he bluffs Shapely away by pretending to be a gangster. Impressed with himself, he gives a James Cagney-like tough guy spit - which promptly lands on his own suit. Clark Gable's rough-hewn screen presence does occasionally threaten to cross over into meanness, but the film softens him every time this happens - often by simply lingering on his face long enough for his expression to change.

Ellie Andrews: Almost certainly Claudette Colbert's most-remembered performance, with good reason. She has terrific chemistry with Gable, and she actively makes him appear charming just by reacting to his with a smile. Capra wisely focuses on her reactions throughout, and her expressiveness gives emotional weight to the proceedings. When she smiles or laughs, it lifts up the entire picture; when she is reduced to tears late in the film, trying to suppress them by covering her mouth, you can actively feel her heart breaking.

Alexander Andrews: One of the movie's clever conceits is that Ellie's father is much like Peter, despite the journalist's instinctive disdain for the rich. The opening scene sees Alexander trying to break down Ellie's resistance to the annulment by eating a steak in front of her - the very type of tactic Peter will later use in some of his interactions with her on the road. He dismisses Ellie's pseudo-husband as a "phony." Later, Peter will use the exact same word to describe the man.

Oscar Shapely: An annoying bus passenger who tries to pick up Ellie, he initially serves to make Peter look good by comparison. Peter is a fast talker, but he never behaves boorishly toward Ellie. Shapely patters toward lewd suggestion within a few minutes of speaking, and is heedless of Ellie's obvious lack of amusement or interest. Around the midpoint, he sees a newspaper and realizes who Ellie is, leading directly into a change in circumstances in the movie's second half.

Ellie's hitchhiking technique proves
a little more effective than Peter's...

THOUGHTS:

On paper, It Happened One Night shouldn't be a classic; it probably shouldn't even be a good movie. A modestly budgeted film, the script was rejected by multiple stars who found the characters unlikeable and the story paper-thin. Writer Robert Riskin churned out last-minute rewrites to try to address Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert's issues with the script - which still didn't satisfy Colbert, who reportedly complained after filming that she had "just finished the worst picture" of her career.

In short, this appears to be a textbook study in how not to make a movie. Yet somehow, everything came together just about perfectly, and the movie remains a delight today.

It Happened One Night is sometimes credited with creating the screwball comedy. It didn't, but its success certainly helped popularize the genre. Always a deft hand at moving his films along quickly, director Frank Capra sets up the two leads' dilemmas in the first ten minutes, then keeps the film zipping along from one set piece to the next.

Several of those set pieces are iconic in themselves: Peter erecting a clothesline and blanket to serve as "The Walls of Jericho" between their twin beds; Ellie showing Peter that, in hitchhiking, "the limb is mightier than the digit"; a bus singalong that probably should feel extended and indulgent, but instead ends up being absolutely charming.  Just to name a few of many fine moments.

The script mixes good character interplay with some effective commentary on class difference. Early in the film, Ellie offers Peter a promise of money to not turn her in; he gets angry, growling at her for trying to buy him when all she really needed to do was ask for help. Some laughs are gained from Ellie's unfamiliarity with etiquette for public showers, or from her inability to stick to a basic budget for her long trip. She, in turn, calls Peter out for being "prejudiced" in his hostility toward the rich when he makes remarks about her father - a man who turns out to be very different from Peter's preconceptions.

Like any road movie, the joy is in the journey. The final third, when the plot must reassert itself, is unsurprisingly the movie's weakest part, not helped by being the one part of the film that separates the leads. Still, by this point, we are firmly invested in the two leads as a couple.  That proves to be enough to carry the film to its close.

Ellie tends to Peter's wounds after he gets into a scrape.

OVERALL:

It Happened One Night was the first motion picture to manage a clean sweep at the Academy Awards, winning for: Best Picture, Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Director, and Best Screenplay. It was a tremendous hit with critics and public alike, and it remains sparkling entertainment today.

A slight lag in the final Act keeps me from awarding this full marks - but I'd still rate this as an excellent comedy, one that stands the test of time better than most of its contemporaries.


Overall Rating: 9/10.

Outstanding Production - 1932/1933: Cavalcade
Outstanding Production - 1935: Mutiny on the Bounty

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