Plot Details: This opinion reveals minor details about the movie''s plot.
When people say, "They don't make movies like that anymore," this is the movie they mean....
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Blake: Take a look at the dizzy old gal with the goat.
Alexander Bullock: I've had to look at her for 20 years - that's MRS. Bullock!
Blake: I'm terribly sorry!
Alexander Bullock: How do you think I feel?
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Godfrey: May I be frank?
Molly: Is that your name?
Godfrey: No, my name is Godfrey.
Molly: All right, be frank.
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Godfrey: Do you mind telling me just what a scavenger hunt is?
Irene: Well, a scavenger hunt is exactly like a treasure hunt, except in a treasure hunt you try to find something you want, and in a scavenger hunt you try to find something that nobody wants.
Godfrey: Hmm, like a forgotten man?
Irene: That's right, and the one who wins gets a prize, only there really isn't a prize. It's just the honor of winning, because all the money goes to charity, that is, if there is any money left over, but there never is.
Godfrey: Well, that clears the whole matter up beautifully.
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Molly: Mr. Bullock, there's a hansom cab driver waiting in the kitchen.
Alexander Bullock: What's he want?
Molly: He wants $50 and his horse.
Alexander Bullock: What horse?
Molly: The one Miss Irene rode up the front steps last night.
Alexander Bullock: Where is his horse? I haven't got it!
Molly: It's in the library, where Miss Irene left it.
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Alexander Bullock: I've just been going over last month's bills, and I find that you people have confused me with the Treasury Department.
Cornelia Bullock: Oh, don't start that again, Dad.
Alexander Bullock: I don't mind giving the government 60 percent of what I make. But I can't do it when my family spends 50 percent!
Irene: Well, why should the government get more money than your own family?
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Detective: Who's that?
Irene: It's mother's protegé.
Detective: No wisecracks. Is that your son?
Alexander Bullock: That? Say, listen. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, but I'll be hanged if I plead guilty to that!
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Detective: Just a minute, sister!
Molly: If I thought that were true, I'd disown my parents.
Detective: So you got a passion for jewelry, huh?
Molly: Yes, and I got a passion for socking cops, too.
Detective: Where are they?
Molly: Most of them are in the cemetery.
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There are two sophisticated, between-the-wars, screwball comedies in my top five movies, and My Man Godfrey is one of them. I bet you movie buffs out there can guess the other, but that’s a review for another day.
How many times do you remember the first time you saw a movie? Well my first encounter with My Man Godfrey was less than ideal.
As memory serves, it was sometime in the late seventies, when I found myself working in New Jersey. There were problems with the new software in our Los Angeles office. I wanted to see California so I volunteered to go. For three days, I worked so hard that a barely saw my hotel room. Finally, it was done and I had a whole day to sightsee before I flew home. That morning, as I ate breakfast, a tropical storm swung in out of Mexico. I had never seen rain that hard before, and very few times since. It was the only time I ever saw it rain upwards. That was some wind.
Sitting alone in my hotel, I could hear a loud clanging outside, like the tolling of a huge bell. I donned my best raincoat and went for a look. There was a 40-foot wide, 30-foot deep, concrete ditch, which claimed to be part of the LA River, bordering the hotel. For four days it had been completely dry. Today it was full, side-to-side, top-to-bottom, full. The clanging was large pieces of floating debris slamming into the steel girders on the underside of Route 66. My room was 50-feet away. Very comforting!
Back in my room, I turned on the tiny, grainy TV and scanned the local channels with dismay. TV is a wasteland, broadcast TV doubly so. The signal was weak, and the frequent lightening flashes sent the picture spinning. Then an old black and white movie came on that looked promising. It was called, My Man Godfrey. Soon, I was laughing so hard, I hardly even noticed the storm. The next day, I returned to Jersey. It was a very good trip.
My Man Godfrey begins on the waterfront in New York, where a conclave of homeless men has found shelter. Irene Bullock (Carole Lombard) and her sister Cornelia (Gail Patrick) are wealthy socialites, who are looking for a "forgotten man" to win their scavenger hunt. They meet Godfrey Smith (William Powell), a polite but penniless derelict. Cornelia finds him first but her rudeness annoys Godfrey, and so he volunteers to help logic-challenged Irene instead. She is so pleased at finally beating her sister at something, that she decides to rehabilitate Godfrey as her pet-project, and hires him to be the family butler.
The Bullock family asylum includes the nominally-sane patriarch Alexander Bullock (Eugene Pallette) and his zany wife Angelica (Alice Brady) as well as their two daughters, the catty Cordelia and the good-hearted dingbat Irene. The smart-mouthed maid, Molly (Jean Dixon), and an odd Russian artiste, Carlo (Mischa Auer), complete this eccentric household, whose daily antics are like a three-ring-circus performing in your living room. Quite naturally, the elegant, charming, sophisticated and impeccably-polite Godfrey fits perfectly into this madhouse.
The stage is set and what follows is one the most classy, witty and charming movies ever made. The dialogue crackles like an electrical storm, with more flashes than anything I saw in LA. The performances are all terrific. The plot, though simple, has depth and twists and subtlety. As well as being a true screwball comedy, it also manages to hold a mirror to the paradoxical class-and-wealth structure at the end of the great depression. Ironically, it titillates the bourgeois tastes of the incredibly wealthy, even as it lampoons them. My Man Godfrey even manages to fit in a moral. "The only difference between a derelict and a man is a job," says Godfrey, a message no less pertinent today.
My Man Godfrey is probably the best Hollywood movie ever made that did not win a single Oscar. It was the first movie ever nominated for six Oscars. (Best Actor: William Powell. Best Actress: Carole Lombard. Best Supporting Actor: Mischa Auer. Best Supporting Actress: Alice Brady. Best Director: Gregory La Cava. Best Screenplay: Eric Hatch and Morrie Ryskind.) Jean Dixon and Eugene Pallette deserved a Best Supporting nods too, and how it did not get a Best Movie nomination is completely beyond me. Now most of us know that to be nominated for an Oscar is a big honor, but the Academy has a habit of not making the right choice for the statue. I can only assume that if you are passed over by them six times, then you must be very good indeed.
While I admit that 1936 was a very good year, My Man Godfrey has arguably the best comedy screenplay ever, and its only competition would not be made for another three years, so it definitely should have won. By the way, I apologize for including so many quotes. The dialogue is so rapid fire and witty that, like a box of chocolates, it is very hard to stop. Did you notice how many different people were speaking in those quotes? In My Man Godfrey, everybody got a good role, even some of the walk-ons.
William Powell, of course, dominates the movie. The role of Godfrey was a perfect fit for his normal off-screen persona. Carole Lombard was much more surprising. Her normal sophisticated elegance was abandoned as she threw herself into the intellectually awkward Irene. Lombard showed a rare talent for physical comedy, all the more remarkable for the glee with which she embraced it. Irene has always got what she wants using her looks and wealth alone. But when her charms fail to impress Godfrey, her fledgling attempts to outthink him are as touching as they are funny. Nevertheless, she perseveres with all the grit and determination of a hungry mouse in a maze.
Jean Dixon as Molly, has some of the best lines in the movie, and steals every scene she is in. Alice Brady, Eugene Pallette and Mischa Auer all deliver cranky, quirky, and top rate performances. Gail Patrick as the bad sister, Cornelia, should not be overlooked. She manages to be lovely and likable despite being the megabitch from hell. Of course, someone directed this movie. Gregory La Cava does a fantastic job. His name is not as instantly recognizable as some of his generation, but he made several Oscar worthy movies, Stage Door, being perhaps the most notable.
If you have never seen My Man Godfrey, I envy you. I wish I could see it for the first time again. You are so lucky. And what's more, you can get it down at the video store; you don't even have to fly to LA. Five Stars, for this classy classic.
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While there is nothing in this movie to prevent a kid seeing it, a lot of the humor may go over their heads. It might be best to wait until they are taller.
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My Man Godfrey (1936)
Directed by Gregory La Cava
Novel by Eric Hatch
Screenplay by Morrie Ryskind and Eric Hatch
Cast:
William Powell - Godfrey Smith
Carole Lombard - Irene Bullock
Alice Brady - Angelica Bullock
Gail Patrick - Cornelia Bullock
Eugene Pallette - Alexander Bullock
Alan Mowbray - Tommy Gray
Jean Dixon - Molly (Bullocks' maid)
Mischa Auer - Carlo (Angelica Bullock's protege)
The quote that to me has the most significance is this one:
Godfrey: The only difference between a derelict and a man is a job.
This to me stands out, not just for being the only unfunny quote in a review that has so many, but because, by itself, it changes a simple romp into a biting social satire. In 1936 the USA was a place of considerable turmoil after the Wall Street Crash and still in the grip of the Great Depression. While My Man Godfrey takes every opportunity to laugh at the wealthy, class conscious, morally bereft socialites, it represents the plight of the common man with dignity and respect. In this regard, it is exceptional. Most of the witty, sophisticated movies of its time simply pretend that the poor do not exist.
The 1930s represent a time in our history, where government and business acted in unison to try and heal the country's wounds and restore prosperity. I find that Godfrey's simple statement has even more relevance today, as the country plunges into joblessness and debt.
Some may think that the appearance of Jane Wyman in a minor role is significant. Some may see her status as the former wife of actor/president Ronald Reagan as symbolic, since his presidency marks the boundary between our former status as a labor friendly nation, and the headlong race to the bottom. Personally, I think it is just a coincidence.
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