The Man Who Understood Women

The best thing I can say about The Man Who Understood Women is it is not the worst comedy I ever saw: Machete, Jewel Robbery, Candy ( 1968), and Damsels In Distress ( all on my 10 worst films list) nor the worst movie I ever saw about Show Business (No Time For Comedy says hi). But It is the worst film of Henry Fonda's career and I despised the movie. The worst part? Fonda in clown makeup which is more cringe worthy ( and longer) then Octopussy with James Bond in clown makeup. On to Leslie Caron. I must admit I never got what other people saw in Leslie Caron: There are Frenchwomen so much more beautiful and better actresses ( Sophie Marceau, Catherine Deneuve, Denise Darcel and Julie Delpy to name a few), but here she is at her worst. Why? Her constant crying throughout this movie is sickening, which is why I had to fast forward through half the movie. Did I forget to mention, there is not one character ( especially Fonda and Caron) that you can like ( or even care about)? While it is not the worst movie I ever saw ( the ones I mentioned earlier plus Reality Bites and Walk On The Wild Side are worse, it it still makes my 10 worst films list and although I cannot rate it as no stars ( the minimum is 1), it still deserves 0 stars. 0/10 stars.

Nunnally Johnson, one of the great talents of the movie business in the 1930s and 1940s eased up for several years, and then came back to write and direct this immobile lump of a motion picture..... not helped in the least, by the way, by the fact that the color has faded on the print shown this evening on Turner Classics Movie, going all pink.

Into this mess, he injected some very talented performers, particularly Henry Fonda, but then seems apparently to have directed everyone in a monotone, from megalomaniac Henry Fonda, who plays Leslie Caron's starmaker husband, to Myron McCormick, who plays his platitude-spouting assistant, to Cesare Danova, who plays her seducer. Caron gets to weep and screech a bit, but that's about the limit of emotions on display. Everyone speaks in long speeches all the time.

A thorough-going stinker. Avoid this one.

But that's about it. It's the reason I came here, to see who wrote the script. The tone of the dialog sounded vaguely familiar. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that there were other unnamed doctors who tried to breathe life into this script. I also began to wonder if this was some cockamamie remake of A Star Is Born. It isn't, not that I think it would be better if that had been the case.

I'm also somewhat gratified to see that I'm not the only person who never saw the appeal of Leslie Caron. She's always just Leslie Caron; it doesn't matter what the role is.

My fellow reviewers are right. Don't bother with this. It's a European production/film trying to be American, and as a consequence, it's neither one nor the other. It's a disaster of a hybrid.

How could an insider like Nunnally Johnson make a movie about Hollywood that's this boring and just plain bad?

Clearly Johnson knows movies, yet he manages to do just about everything wrong with "The Man Who Understood Women," starting with that title. Henry Fonda is disastrously miscast as a maverick, manipulative director, and Cesare Danova could have been replaced by his likeness in granite. Leslie Caron is adorable and she works hard, but "Ann Garantier" is an idea, not a character. As for the telescoped plot, I believe Aaron Spelling himself would have rejected it as too simplistic. There is the occasional witty line-- Johnson's forte is writing, after all-- but there's way too much dialog. Movies are a visual medium, not a verbose one, but Johnson's characters talk incessantly.

As it happens, a number of big films circa 1960 were about movie-making. This is by far the worst. Godard's half-baked "Contempt" is at least cinematic. "Two Weeks In Another Town" has energy, largely thanks to Edward G. Robinson and Claire Trevor. And then there's "8 1/2." Fellini's masterpiece and Johnson's dud are similarly long-- 135-140 minutes. But "8 ½" is exhilarating, revelatory, inventive, visually rich, and memorable; "The Man Who Understood Women" fails on all counts.

Johnson had a hand in writing more than 70 movies, producing more than 40, and directing 8. After seeing this and "Black Widow," I can only conclude that 8 was at least 2 too many.

When this film began, it looked like one of those films the stars and directors made simply to fulfill their contractual obligations.

However, despite Henry Fonda's occasional forays into sleepwalking his role (especially in his romantic scenes), the overall film was amusing, funny in places and occasionally clever.

It's light entertainment and clearly NEVER intended to rise above that threshold. The warm flame that illumined the production was Leslie Caron. This was a better performance in some ways (IMO) than "American In Paris." It was far more "real" and emotionally intimate than other ones she's done, and without it, this picture would have been a genuine yawner.