The Scoundrel

This film is very old style; early days of the talkies. In the beginning of what we now think of as the film industry there was a good deal of holdover from stage work. D. W. Griffith had shown film makers what was possible but it hadn't really taken hold yet. MacArthur, Hecht and Coward were playwrights experimenting with film making. This film was essentially a platform for clever dialog, such as could be expected in one of their stage plays. You can't judge it by modern cinema narrative standards. You can only appreciate it for itself. The emotions are rather raw and the characterizations are somewhat simplistic but that's because it's all just backdrop for the dialog. Speaking of which, at one point Coward's character is speaking to the girl whom he has seduced and abandoned. She is sobbing her heart out and he says, "Tears always make me crueler than I really am." He then goes on to say, "I can't cry for my sins. If I could I would now. I don't particularly like myself." Truly cruel people are forever saying how much they dislike being cruel. Characters in Coward's plays always come off as being flip and shallow but somewhere down deep, they are sincere. I've read that in real life Coward was one of the nicest people you could know. Perhaps he was simply afraid of emotion, afraid of being hurt.

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.

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.

Damn you Hecht and MacArthur, forcing me again to write a review for a sadly neglected film after the equally magnificent 'Crime Without Passion'.

I had already gotten ready to write 'The Scoundrel' off as a little dialogue-driven romantic drama with by far the smartest dialogue of any film of its time (from what I've seen), but then in the last third it's like somebody suddenly turned the whole thing up to 11 and the film enters the realm of magic realism while still feeling consistent with the tone and intentions of the rest of the film, it becomes very emotional in a - dare I say without sounding pretentious - transcendental way. But I should probably begin at the start.

Again like in 'Crime Without Passion' what's maybe the most remarkable aspect of the film is that the protagonist - here it is the head of a book publishing firm - is an intelligent but highly unsympathetic character who nevertheless is taken seriously by the filmmakers as a figure to identify with, and at least for me very successfully so. When this seemingly irredeemable character finally gets his chance of redemption it is after such a traumatic event and at such a high price that this turn is wholly believable and more than welcome on my part.

'Crime Without Passion's lawyer Lee Gentry and 'The Scoundrel's book publisher Anthony Mallare are actually quite similar characters in general. Both are talented in their chosen field and successful at their job in which they are their own bosses. More importantly both are proud about their wit, pitiless and unabashedly self-centered to the point that they have no real use for friends. The people at his firm he calls his friends acknowledge his brilliance but otherwise mostly talk in negative terms about him which Mallare is totally fine with. About them he says: "I call everybody who is clever enough to see through me a friend." Again you have to look no further than the lines that introduce us to Anthony Mallare to get an idea of who this man is. Here are two more samples:

Colleague: "What did you think of Mrs. Robinson's book?" Mallare: "It rrreeks of morality." Colleague: "You are not rejecting it..." Mallare: "Certainly! To the lions with it." Colleague: "I thought it had a lot of sales value." Mallare: "Undoubtedly. But I refuse to make money improving people's morals. It's a vulgar way to swindle the public. Selling them things they least need. Virtue and dullness."

Colleague: "I don't understand you, Tony, with all the money you throw away on advances, refusing old Slezack." Mallare: "I refuse to be blackmailed. Especially by the lame, the halt, and the blind." Colleague: "And pity - that most vile of virtues - has never been known to you, eh?"

Like Gentry he is looking for the right woman for himself. I guess the key difference is his environment. Gentry was an intelligent man surrounded by "common folk" while the people that Mallare surrounds himself with are not unlike him educated and cynical people who hardly get into contact with people outside their own little circle. Mallare merely is the most extreme of them, but also the most brutally honest and most consistently true to himself and his ideals. After cruelly finishing an unlucky relationship with a smart life-affirming young poet who initially seemed like a great match for him he remains without pity except for himself and actually admits that he doesn't even like himself. Mallare gets ready to lower his expectations and settles for a woman who is very much his cold female counterpart. Tragically even this attempt fails in its infancy making it doubtful that a man like him ever could find his heart's desire or even a real friend let alone a soul mate. And this is when the up to this point very dialogue-driven film takes an unexpected turn and becomes something very different.

In this romantic drama about literates the characters don't just talk like your Average Joes and Plain Janes with a few quotes from classic pieces of literature thrown in (although naturally they do that too) but they actually speak quite like real well-educated people, well, maybe in an idealized form, it is a movie after all and as mentioned a smartly written one at that. The acting also is pretty understated and has an authenticity that is quite unlike anything from that era. I can't really describe it, it just has to be seen, and it probably isn't everyone's cup of tea, if you don't get where those characters are coming from you might not get into it at all.

I was very surprised to find out afterwards that the screenplay actually won the Oscar that year, I would expect this film to have a difficult time finding the right audience, viewers expecting high emotion, sentimental romance and "entertainment" will largely be disappointed and just plainly turned off by the unlikeable protagonist while and the more high-brow crowd would probably find its ambitions to be aiming too low and its romantic tendencies difficult to fully embrace. Up until the last third it's basically a series of dialogue scenes and filmmaking-wise or even storytelling-wise it's nothing special. The less than stellar copy that I had to watch might be deceiving regarding the cinematography, though, and all this changes after the turning point when it becomes more comparable to something like 'Portrait of Jennie' or 'Liliom' but I won't give away any more. Watching 'The Scoundrel' miracles can be expected.

Because so many talented people worked on "The Scoundrel", it pains me to say that this film doesn't work and some parts of it are laughably bad.

Noël Coward plays a character based on Horace Liveright, a (real-life) New York publisher and playboy who was a vicious S.O.B. and an inept businessman; Liveright died broke and friendless. That's not quite what happens to Coward in this movie.

"The Scoundrel" is a fantasy, but we don't find this out until about halfway through the film ... and in a flashback, worse luck. Coward dies and comes back as a ghost, and (unlike in "The Sixth Sense") he KNOWS he's a ghost. After returning from the dead, the first thing he does is go back to his office and perform a long dull dialogue scene with his employees, without bothering to tell them that he's dead. I haven't given away any spoilers here, because this film has very little worth spoiling. Coward delivers all of his dialogue in a slow lugubrious tone. He spends the second half of the movie as a ghost, but he's equally lifeless in the first half.

"The Scoundrel" has a low budget and several continuity errors. It was filmed in New York City (at the Astoria studio) but there are no vintage shots of NYC locations; one street scene is a painfully obvious interior set.

The notorious drama critic Alexander Woollcott appears in a tiny role (basically playing himself), but he's on screen just long enough to prove he's no actor. Lionel Stander (better known as Max from "Hart to Hart") shows up briefly to sip champagne with Coward. This makes Lionel Stander the only actor who worked with both Noël Coward and Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle. I don't recommend "The Scoundrel" unless you're intensely interested in any of the actors or writers who worked on this film ... all of whom did better work in other films.