Susan Slept Here

I confess to a soft spot for this candy-box confection. Ordinarily 10 minutes of Debbie- Reynolds-spunk is enough to last me for 2 hours. But I've got to admit she brings genuine verve and sparkle to the role. Never mind that Dick Powell is closer to 50 than the movie- claimed 35, and at least twice as old as the juvenile Reynolds. Fortunately their clinches are kept to a minimum, even as the under-age innuendo is exploited to the hilt for titillated 1950's audiences. If the plot skirts the bounds of good taste, director Tashlin keeps things from straying with a speeded-up pace that allows little pause for contemplation. I would love to have been in on the meetings where studio exec's kicked this premise around for the censors.

Anyway, Powell is appropriately dour as the sober-sided screenwriter, while Glenda Farrell gets the kind of caustic role that would later suit Thelma Ritter to the proverbial T. And, of course, there's Alvy Moore looking like a college freshman and getting all the clever wisecracks, even if in real life he was a veteran of the bloody WWII battle for Iwo Jima! Too bad Anne Francis doesn't get more screen time as "the other woman". But then she does show why she deserved that drop-dead sexy outfit she wore in Forbidden Planet (1956). Cult director Tashlin manages a few of trademark effects from his cartoonist past--- note Reynolds cooling off her libido with a swinging freezer door, and, of course, the fantasy sequences that fit in perfectly.

All in all, I think RKO got away with one-- had the movie been handled less deftly, someone might have landed in 1954's county clink.

Yet another Frank Tashlin (a former cartoonist) farce, set in LA on Christmas Eve with juvenile delinquent Debbie Reynolds (as perky and as cute as ever) consigned to old Oscar-winner Dick Powell--with the late Alvy Moore as his kookie sidekick, Virgil. Dated now with early 1950s song and look (dig that crazy sports car Powell drives), "real nervous" dialogue, etc. but something still comfy and fun about it--especially to watch on Christmas Eve. Look for great cameo at end by Red Skelton. Oh yes, and *I* like dill pickles and peanut butter!!

One of the missed opportunities of the era was to have Debbie Reynolds and Dick Powell paired in this very funny and perceptive romantic comedy, but not to make it a musical. That would have given it just that bit of an edge to make it different to hundreds of other movies being churned out with similar plotlines.

However, what we have is Reynolds as a teenage delinquent foisted on the well-meaning Powell, a writer, at Christmas. He wants inspiration for his writing, she wants a sugar daddy. Guess how this one ends up?

One thing I did especially like were the dream sequences, involving cages and spiders and all kinds of things, in lurid pinks. Where was Tashlin's mind going here? Fun stuff throughout, however, with a sparkling performance from Reynolds.

This is the kind of odd thing that RKO would put together on its downhill slide in the 50's that sometimes would work and sometimes would not. This time it does seem to work although an ick factor seems to be hanging around just off camera that doesn't ever quite completely present itself. At least part of the enjoyment is seeing two veterans of the 30's Warner Brothers musical comedies together playing mature roles twenty years after the fact - Dick Powell as screenwriter-in-a-rut Mark Christopher and Glenda Farrell as his secretary Maude who likes to stay inebriated but is quite the philosopher and friend during her sober moments. She still has all of the bite and fun she had when she was Torchy Blaine.

The ick factor I talked about before is the marriage in name only of middle-aged Mark to 17 year old Susan Landis (Debbie Reynolds) who is left on Mark's doorstep by the police of all people, because one of the detectives thinks Susan would be good research for a serious script by Mark, and plus the detective doesn't want to put her in jail on Christmas Eve. The detective promises to return for her in two days. The marriage occurs because Susan will be booked on vagrancy without a visible means of support, so off they go to Vegas with Mark looking at this whole thing as a good deed to keep a basically good kid out of jail. However, Susan, the romantic, wants it to be something more. After the wedding Mark deposits Susan back in his Hollywood apartment while he goes off to an isolated spot - without Susan - to try and redeem the script he's been writing.

Susan and writer's block aren't Mark's only problems. He also has a rich girlfriend (Anne Francis) whom he seems to want to quit almost as much as the job at the studio he had writing fluff pieces but that paid well. It's hard to leave something behind that's comfortable and familiar for the unknown, even if it's slowly strangling you.

The funniest part of the movie is watching Susan, after she's legally married and living apart from Mark, trying to figured out how to win her man back. She tries everything from watching home movies of Mark's girlfriend and trying to imitate her moves and expressions to basting a turkey in an evening dress waiting for Mark to arrive for dinner, to memorizing how to make various mixed drinks. Then you have to wonder how much of this is love and how much of this is a teenage girl's natural curiosity about sex. Since Debbie Reynolds is just five years older than the part she's playing, she gives the role of Susan the realism of someone who is young enough to have recent memories of their teen years but is old enough to see the humor in them.

This thing works because it is the 50's, because it is Susan with all of the romantic and aggressive sexual impulses rather than Mark, and because of the excellent supporting players. The one thing that doesn't quite work here is Dick Powell as a 35 year old. He seems like he's playing a man quite a bit older and more beat down than one of 35 - Dick Powell was actually 50 at the time- and perhaps Mark is lying - to himself and to Susan - when he says that's how old he is.

This isn't a masterpiece, but it is a cute romantic comedy that works.

After the lamentably unseen The First Time, the next Frank Tashlin movie showing at my local revival theater was Susan Slept Here. I was sure that SSH could not live up to the high standard set by the first film. But it did, and surpassed it. Personally, I think it's one of my five or ten favorite comedies. Dick Powell (whom I've always loved) stars as Mark Christopher, a Hollywood screenwriter who hasn't had any success after winning an Oscar (which, incidentally, serves as the narrator). He once had an idea to write a serious picture (as opposed to the frivolous comedies that he has specialized in) about a juvenile delinquent, which he mentioned to a policeman friend of his. Well, on Christmas Eve, that policeman, along with his partner, shows up at Mark's door with a 17 year-old juvenile delinquent as a present. Her name is Susan (Debbie Reynolds, whom I also love, almost desperately!), and the policeman proposes that Mark hang around her for a couple of days, you know, for research. He's in a hurry to take his girlfriend (the gorgeous but ferocious Anne Francis, who would star in Forbidden Planet a couple of years later) out on a date, but that comes to an abrupt halt when Susan answers Mark's phone. You know the schtick: Mark starts out annoyed at Susan, but they grow attached. The age difference is brought up frequently enough so it doesn't get too creepy. Mark is 35 ([laugh] - maybe when Powell was dancing with Busby Berkeley) and Susan is 17 (Reynolds was 22 at the time, but she is probably the only actress who could get away with playing a teenager until she was in her 40s). For a very long time Mark doesn't respond to Susan's crush. The only major flaw in the film - and even it's acceptable - is Mark's motivation in marrying Susan. He does it, he says, to save her from six months jail time (she has been arrested for assault on a sailor and vagrancy). It's not very believable, but it's also not that big a deal.

The two leads are exceptional. This was Powell's last movie. After it, he retired to television, although I only call it retirement as a movie snob; he was enormously, enormously successful in the new medium. He's more or less the straight man here. He has a particularly great scene where he watches a 20 year-old movie for which he wrote the dialogue on television. As the actors speak their horrendous dialogue, we watch Powell as he mouths their words, both a man's and a woman's (it's a break-up scene), with an embarrassed look in his eyes. If Powell is good, Reynolds is masterful. She's such an odd actress, not conventional in any way. She had her own niche in Hollywood. Her acting is doll-like with its jerky movements and huge facial expressions. That isn't a criticism whatsoever. I have never seen her in a straight drama (the closest is How the West Was Won); I'd imagine she acts differently, or she never made one. In comedies like this and Singin' in the Rain, she's absolutely perfect. There is not a moment when she's on screen during which I was not laughing myself to tears. The film also has one of the greatest supporting casts ever. Anne Francis I've already mentioned. I very much appreciate the fact that the writers didn't make her character abominable; Susan Slept Here, although it's not a musical, is very much a direct descendent of An American in Paris and Singin' in the Rain. One criticism I have of Singin' is that Jean Hagan's villain is too cartoonish (or at least I would have that criticism if Hagan weren't so damn funny in that movie). Francis in SSH is played sympathetically for the most part. Glenda Farrell plays Mark's secretary, Maude, an alcoholic who answers the telephone on Christmas morning: "You talk, I can't." Alvy Moore is Mark's friend and assistant, Virgil, who can crack wise with the best of them. Horace McMahon and Herb Vigran play the two cops, and Les Tremayne plays Mark's lawyer, who is obsessive about his therapy sessions. Red Skeleton has a wordless but amusing cameo as Maude's teenage sweetheart. 10/10.