The Scoundrel

Watching Noel Coward in an extremely unsympathetic role is interesting in itself. He does well, too. Julie Haydon is good as the innocent woman he seduces.The supporting cast is fine.

The editor Coward plays is shockingly cruel. He knows he is and revels in it. But the movie takes an unfortunate turn: Without revealing anything, I will say that it turns from cold-hearted and dark to mystical. Hecht was a brilliant screenwriter, and Charles MacArthur, his co-director, was a fine playwright as well. But I think one "Specter Of The Rose" is enough. "The Scoundrel" is better than that movie but it veers uncomfortably close to it.

In 1934 Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur made an independent film starring Claude Rains and Margo called CRIME WITHOUT PASSION. The results were moderately interesting, so the two creators returned to movie production in 1935 with THE SCOUNDREL. Now their star was not just a great actor like Rains, but the leading British playwrite (except for Bernard Shaw) of the first half of the 20th Century - Noel Coward. Coward plays a book editor who is brilliant, brittle, witty, and totally amoral. He has many literary acquaintances, but no friends. Not that these literary figures (Alexander Woolcott, Lionel Stander, Eduardo Cianelli) are really likeable enough to merit having friends of their own. Indeed these people are so self-centered that one wonders how they can relate to humanity enough to have good taste in writing, publishing, or even playing music (Coward's second girlfriend is a pianist who is as cold as he is).

The wit of the lines of dialogue, no matter how hard Coward can give them, is not on par with the lines of witty dialogue from Coward's PRIVATE LIVES or BLYTHE SPIRIT. Hecht and MacArthur could write funny material in a farce like THE FRONT PAGE or TWENTIETH CENTURY (or Hecht's solo work, in say NOTHING SACRED), but they were not brittle or delicate. So that Coward's amoral attitude starts to drag after awhile. Then the film turns into a search for emotional catharsis. Coward dies in an airplane crash in the Caribbean, but his unhappy spirit returns to earth. His acquaintances do not heed his warnings about the emptiness of their lives (Coward sort of becomes the equivelent of Jacob Marley here), but he does find some sorrow for his lost soul from his first girlfriend. So he finds salvation in this drop of sadness.

The total film must be considered an interesting failure, and leads one to another point - Coward's name lives today because of the continuous strength of those major plays of his (PRIVATE LIVES, BLYTHE SPIRIT, HAY FEVER). His movies are another matter. Few of his performances were so well done on celluloid as to bear comparison to Olivier, Richardson, Guilgud, Guinness, Redgrave, Mills, Burton, and Sim. His best performances are probably in his own film IN WHICH WE SERVE or in later films where he was in supporting parts (OUR MAN IN HAVANAH and BUNNY LAKE IS MISSING). But how to explain a serious attempt at film making like THE ASTONISHED HEART which failed so badly (the story doesn't quite make sense). Of all his best plays, the only one to gain an Oscar was the dated CAVALCADE (in 1934), now best recalled for a brief scene when a young couple on a honeymoon turn out to be onboard the R.M.S. Titanic. Why Coward, a master of theatre, a gifted cabaret performer, a good actor, turned up so maladroit a film career is one of the mysteries of 20th Century films.

If you haven't seen "Crime Without Passion", the previous Ben Hecht - Charles MacArthur collaboration made in 1934, "The Scoundrel" will strike you as a particularly interesting and unusual film; if you have (like I did, yesterday no less) it will still be interesting, but you can not help but notice that the two writers-directors are essentially reworking the same main theme (and character), to the point where it sometimes feels as if you're watching the same movie (except made with less style this time). Ultimately, it's a moralistic fairy tale, but Noel Coward gives a tour-de-force performance in a rare acting gig. Warning: do not read IMDb's plot summary - it practically gives the entire movie away! **1/2 out of 4.

"When a book and an head come into contact, and one sounds hollow. Is it always the book?". Noël Coward is the rather superior publisher "Tony" who is surrounded by acolytes who are little more interested in him than he is in them. Even his most loyal stalwarts are mere pawns in his successful business. Then he meets the down-to-earth "Cora" (Julie Haydon) whose approach to his caddish behaviour leads him to believe that she has to be girl for him. She has no intentions on that front though, and absconds to Bermuda. He sets of in pursuit but, well you know what they say about that triangle! Now he has one month to get someone to cry a genuine tear for him else he will face a fate worse than death. He realises now, as do we, just how false his life has been and at how shallow a character "Tony" is, but unless he can manage to find "Cora"... Though sometimes quite witty, this is still a little wordy for the first half hour. Coward exudes a superciliousness and pomposity right from the get go, so I'm not sure we needed too much more of the character establishment part, but once we reach the more metaphysical aspects of the story, it becomes quite a poignant look at hypocrisy and double standards, venality and yes, even a little pity and love. As to the miracle, well that's down to a gently effective effort from Haydon who actually does well to make her presence felt in the ambit of Coward.

Unlike children, "The Scoundrel" should be heard and not seen. This very disappointing movie has a terrific script, containing dialogue delivered the way only Noel Coward could deliver it. Those familiar with his witty, supercilious delivery are in for a treat, and the team of Hecht-MacArthur have spread enough to go around to the entire cast.

Having said that, the acting in this picture was so bad as to be almost embarrassing, overwrought to the point of ham. Coward himself seems uncomfortable when not reciting his lines and seems to say them unnaturally, as though from memory and not as an actor would. The rest of the cast follows suit and seems bedazzled by his presence.

I find it astounding that this picture won an Academy Award (Worst Idea For A Motion Picture?) as the film starts out OK but quickly descends into goofy fantasy and ultimately into maudlin burlesque. Several actors are miscast and flounder about, except for Stanley Ridges, who plays the boyfriend of the girlfriend. "The Voice", Lionel Stander, as a poet? Come on. A hit-man, maybe, but not a poet. Ditto Eduardo Ciannelli. The best that can be said, apart from the dialogue, is that it is mercifully short at 76 minutes - but bring a blindfold.