I Just Watched...

Thank you for the review, Fading Fast. I watch Laura and Leave Her to Heaven every time they're on because I'm as mesmerized by Gene Tierney's beauty as Dana Andrews is. "Low energy" is a good way to describe her and part of her compelling presence. She knows she doesn't have to bounce and bubble to get attention, she only has to come into view.

Heaven Can Wait (1943)

“Oh, if we were lucky, we sometimes managed a few feet of film here and there in our work that momentarily sparkled like Lubitsch. Like Lubitsch, not real Lubitsch. His art is lost. That most elegant of screen magicians took his secret with him.” -Billy Wilder

Many of Lubitsch’s pictures are sophisticated sexual comedies, with the German emigrate’s unique flair of simultaneously mocking and celebrating a subject to such perfection that you can never quite tell where the satorizing begins and the glorification ends. This is often referred to fondly as “The Lubitsch Touch,” the masterful quality that is exceedingly difficult to describe yet unmistakable while watching his films.

Heaven Can Wait may be director Ernst Lubitsch’s most thematically ambitious picture in his storied career. A period piece that examines the human condition through the confessions of a serial philanderer told to Satan himself (Laird Cregar in undoubtedly the most sophisticated and refined Lucifer ever presented to celluloid). Henry Van Cleve has arrived in purgatory to convince His Excellency that he belongs in Hell after a lifetime of misdeeds. But His Excellency isn’t convinced of Henry’s unworthiness. Thus Henry recounts the story of his life through his relationships with the women in his life, traversing decades through the changing societal norms during the turn of nineteenth century America.

Heaven Can Wait’s themes and plot are understated, yet its subtle and nuanced observations on life, relationships, aging, self-reflection, love, marriage and mortality, are readily laid bare for willing viewers. A film with a profound statement on humanity as timeless as the themes it explores with such delicacy. Lubitsch employs a very unconventional perspective on the capacity to preserve and maintain a happy marriage.

Based on the Hungarian play Birthday by Laszlo Bus-Feketé, Heaven Can Wait’s Don Ameche gives not just one of the great performances of his career as Henry Van Cleve, the spoiled child of a wealthy Manhattan family, but in my estimation, one of the unsung leading performances of the 1940s. Henry’s aimless and philandering pursuits seem to subside when he meets Martha, played in an expertly tender and exquisite performance by Gene Tierney, one year before her starring turn in the acclaimed film noir, Laura.

Heaven Can Wait is ambitious in the scope of its narrative, covering decades as the timeline shifts and we experience life’s blessings, amusements, and somberness alongside the amusingly quirky Van Cleve family. Charles Coburn’s empathetic turn as Grandpa Van Cleve is cinematic perfection, as Grandpa lives vicariously experiencing the joys of youth through his grandson Henry as well as presiding as his most loyal supporter and confidant. Coburn’s turn is one of the most memorable supporting roles of Classic Hollywood.

The entire supporting cast is memorable, particularly the quarreling Strable family. A particular scene of comedic brilliance occurs at the Strable home at the dinner table, highlighting the dissolution of a marriage yet deftly handled in a comedic manner that only Ernst Lubitsch could conceive. And similarly to Ninotchka before it, Lubitsch deploys symbolism adroitly, introducing objects and altering their significance to demonstrate a character’s development. It was the hat in Ninotchka and a book in Heaven Can Wait.

And there is a particularly poignant death scene (no spoiler, as the film opens with Ameche in purgatory), that film historian Joseph McBride writes, “Ameche’s death scene is one of the greatest death scenes in the history of movies. That lovely scene is both a nostalgic tour of Lubitsch’s life and work and perhaps his supreme example of expressive ellipsis.”

Alfred Newman’s score is a perfect accompaniment to the film’s delicate balance of comedy and drama. The mise-en-scene is enhanced by the period setting and gorgeous three strip Technicolor by cinematographer Edward Cronjager.

Andrew Sarris wrote in his landmark history The American Cinema (1968), “A poignant sadness infiltrates Lubitsch's gayest moments, and it is this counterpoint between sadness and gaiety that represents Lubitsch touch, and not the leering humor of closed doors”. Film historian and Lubitsch biographer Joseph McBride once stated that “Ernst Lubitsch’s films are about much more than sophisticated sexual comedies, which is the superficial view of his work, although one of the great pleasures they offer. I came to understand how Lubitsch’s films on a deeper level are about how men and women should treat each other.”

And so it is with Heaven Can Wait. A film that rightfully deserves to stand alongside Lubitsch’s other masterworks. The film’s pleasures are ripe for rediscovery for generations anew.

You're in luck! Warner Archive just announced they are releasing a Blu-ray of Attack of the 50 Foot Woman on December 6th. You can't wear out a Blu-ray. 

I just watched THE MUMMY from Hammer Studios. Obviously, it's a B movie, but I really like it. Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee were at their best. This duo were the "bell cows" for Hammer's horror films and were great together. I've been a big fan of classic horror movies since my youth. Frankenstein's monster, Dracula, The Wolfman and The Mummy were my favorites. While my friends were building model airplanes, I had those four models from Aurora decorating my room. I think it's great TCM and MOVIES shows these films and others as a build up to Halloween. While the original films from Universal are great, I think I like the Hammer versions better.