DVD Review: The Jack Lemmon Film Collection (Phffft!; Operation Mad Ball; The Notorious Landlady; Under the Yum Yum Tree; Good Neighbor Sam)

Now Available to Own on DVD

An Introduction

With the bonus of an all-new documentary hosted by Chris Lemmon featuring accounts of those who worked with or were friends of the legendary actor Jack Lemmon such as Kevin Spacey and Shirley MacLaine-- five previously unreleased works from Lemmon's Columbia Pictures endeavors finally make their way to DVD in this must-own set.

Naturally skeptical about the movies since-- as both a classic film lover and one who was especially fond of Jack Lemmon-- I was shocked to realize that I hadn't seen any of the five titles (and in fact had only heard of Under the Yum Yum Tree). Luckily, I was thrilled to discover that each one was entertaining in their own way. And in fact, after viewing two in particular-- Good Neighbor Sam and The Notorious Landlady-- I realized at once that I wouldn't hesitate to include both of those in a list of the actor's very best movies.

Since we're normally accustomed to thinking about Lemmon in terms of his partnerships with his best friend and best onscreen counterpart Walter Matthau as well as his great collaborations with Neil Simon and Billy Wilder, it was a tremendous discovery to see the way he fostered many excellent friendships and working alliances early on in his career.

And to this end, the collection features some notable overlaps in regards to two works co-starring Kim Novak, a few directed by Richard Quine, a lively duo from filmmaker David Swift, and a couple penned by Blake Edwards that showed his early dazzling ability to blend pratfalls with complicated monologues to endlessly witty effect in five vastly different films reviewed below.

Phffft!
(1954)
Director: Mark Robson
Writer: George Axelrod

To quote the luminous and vastly underrated Ms. Kim Novak who appears in the film's trailer-- while referencing the impossible to pronounce and abysmal title-- "if you can't say it, see it." Yet despite the fact that she's front and center in the trailer as part of Columbia Pictures' attempts to elevate Kim Novak as a "rising love goddess" in the same vein as their rival studio's Marilyn Monroe, Novak's part in Phffft! is relatively small and silly.

And this is especially in comparison to the film's real draw for fans of the year's previous collaboration between Judy Holliday and Jack Lemmon in the lovely George Cukor classic It Should Happen to You as they were no doubt eager to see them reunite.

Penned by George Axelrod (who also wrote the cinematic classics Breakfast at Tiffany's and The Seven Year Itch), the movie opens with an amusing set-up of marital discontent as-- after eight years of life together as man and wife-- Judy Holliday's character Nina announces that she wants a divorce.

Annoyed that she's interrupting the sexy hard-boiled pulp novel he tries to read throughout the film (as a great running gag as he's stopped in the foreplay stage every single time) and just as glad at the prospect of putting a stop to their relationship that's fizzled out, Lemmon's Robert agrees far too easily and quickly for Nina's taste that the feeling is mutual and the same thought had occurred to him.

While clearly they seem to be on the same page-- personal inventory wise if not literally as Robert has to reluctantly close his book-- the way the couple continues to argue over the grounds of the arrangement and who thought of dumping the other one first makes viewers instantly realize that perhaps the shock of addressing their boredom has most likely made their marriage come alive for the first time in years. Still they dash to Reno for a quickie divorce with both predictably trying to figure out the best way to move on, especially when they're still professionally involved with one another.

Making drastic changes as Nina and Robert attempt first to occupy their time with self-improvement activities with Holliday's decision to learn a foreign language and Lemmon's choice to pursue painting (before realizing they have no talent in either area)-- inevitably they begin seeking romantic companionship in the strangest of ways.

Whereas Holliday's Nina mistakes what she assumes is a seductive come-on by the leading man of the show she writes for only to discover that like most actors he just wants a better part, Lemmon goes the early mid-life crisis route by buying a sports-car and taking the awful advice of philandering ladies man Jack Carson who informs him to grow a mustache and fixes him up with the pom-pom dancing Novak.

And soon enough the two realize their efforts are actually bringing them closer together as witnessed in one of the movie's standouts when they're surprised to discover they've both taken dancing lessons and proceed to show off with their respective partners only for their "dance off" to find them literally sweeping each other off their feet. However-- and true to romantic comedy form in addition to increasing our own amusement-- they fight their obvious attraction the entire way right until an ending that seems to have possibly influenced Pillow Talk.

Despite the age of the film which suffers as the weakest digital transfer in the set by making you strain for the remote to emphasize the volume-- and possibly if your television is able, get rid of excess noise from the dated print-- it's a great deal of fun.

And although it won't be mistaken for the second time around romantic comedy divorce hits (or "comedies of remarriage" as scholars have labeled them) like Cary Grant's efforts The Awful Truth and The Philadelphia Story-- it makes a terrific companion to It Should Happen to You and once again celebrates the deft physical timing of the two leads that they're able to punctuate with some truly classic Axelrod lines (yet dialogue-wise, Carson gets the best material).

Also on the DVD, you'll want to be sure to check out the hidden twenty-two minute television gem Marriageable Male which shows an impossibly young Jack Lemmon pretending he's a male model (and perhaps foreshadowing his great passion for golf, striking a pose with a club) in order to try and drive a wedge between advertising artist Ida Lupino and her brainy fiance she's currently supporting.

A true blast and one that has a great deal of potential as a comedic work-- making my writer brain work overtime in figuring out how we could write something like that that's feature length today-- in many ways, despite being one fourth of the length, Marriageable Male is just as impressive as Phffft!

Operation Mad Ball
(1957)
Director: Richard Quine
Writers: Arthur Carter (based on his play), Blake Edwards & Jed Harris

Two years after Jack Lemmon won the Best Supporting Actor Academy Award for John Ford and Mervyn LeRoy's military comedy-drama Mister Roberts, he returned to familiar and audience favored territory via Arthur Carter's comedic stage-play about servicemen trying to throw a big party despite their overbearing Captain Lock as co-written for director Richard Quine by Blake Edwards and Jed Harris.

While the result was a lighthearted romp that an interviewee in the box set's documentary likens the movie as a possible precursor to the hit film and spin-off TV series M*A*S*H-- in my eyes Operation Mad Ball plays like a 105 minute episode of The Phil Silvers Show a.k.a Bilko or Sergeant Bilko which ruled the CBS airwaves as a three-time Emmy award-winning Best Comedy Series for 143 episodes from 1955-1959.

Despite the familiarity of the admittedly minor plot and the fact that the film never fully manages to shake its theatrical roots as what-- at times-- essentially feels like a filmed version of the play, it's bolstered considerably by Jack Lemmon's tremendously mischievous charm and fast-talking, good-hearted yet downright conman World War II vet, Private Hogan.

Set post-war in September of '45 in an unclassified area of France, director Quine (who would work with Lemmon six times) and co-writer Blake Edwards' work is elevated immensely given Lemmon's energetic performance as he tries to wheel and deal his way out of Lock's insistent wish to court-martial him. And Lock's desire to rid Hogan from sight we soon ascertain derived mainly because Hogan is smarter than the man as well as having the distinction of being the most decorated private in the war, but one who tarnished the Captain's good will by deciding to run crap games as part of occupational therapy.

When he gets caught telling a nurse how beautiful she looks in the moonlight and-- given her position as an officer whereas enlisted men don't have that opportunity and therefore are forbidden from becoming romantically involved with an officer-- Lock goes ballistic and after Hogan manages to evoke the Geneva Convention in his defense, Lock re-assigns Hogan to the mortuary.

The bulk of the film-- in addition to the cliched subplot of Lemmon trying to woo the beautiful nurse-- consists of him leading the other soldiers in the planning and execution of a celebratory ball in honor of a young man who's shipping off for the pacific and away from his own female lieutenant sweetheart.

Although overall, it's the weakest disc in the set-- the cast and dialogue manage to make it work very well. With a great foil for Lemmon in Ernie Kovacs and nice supporting work by Mickey Rooney, the ensemble comedy makes a nice Saturday afternoon time-waster as we delight in seeing Lemmon play a part that one decade later would've no doubt have been given to his buddy Walter Matthau.

The Notorious Landlady
(1962)
Director: Richard Quine
Writers: Blake Edwards & Larry Gelbart
(Based on a story by Margery Sharp)

Although he acknowledges that his father would've been thrilled that all of these titles are finally being made available to the public, when I interviewed Chris Lemmon recently, he noted that if he had to choose one, he believed that his father Jack would've been particularly pleased with the debut of The Notorious Landlady.

It's a tremendous achievement by all involved including his great friends Richard Quine (who directed Lemmon for the fifth time in this ingeniously plotted work), Kim Novak (in yet another pairing of the two), and screenwriter Blake Edwards who in the exact same year had directed Lemmon in the wildly different and deeply moving film Days of Wine and Roses.

With a crackerjack script by Edwards who partnered with future M*A*S*H and Tootsie writer Larry Gelbart providing a solid foundation for the cast and crew alike, the movie manages to blend together as many genres as possible as it weaves a tapestry which starts with a seemingly simplistic plot that grows increasingly complicated with every twist and turn.

Notorious Landlady begins quite notoriously indeed as a wicked comedy crossed with gothic tinged noir as Novak's beautiful London resident Carly Hardwicke is suspected of murdering her husband whose body hasn't been found. Unable to rent out a room in her flat because she's under the suspicion of all of Scotland Yard and her nosy neighbors-- and likewise in desperate need of money-- Carly has all but given up on the idea that someone will arrive without knowledge of the possible crime.

However, as an American diplomat just arriving in the country from being stationed in Saudi Arabia, Jack Lemmon's smooth talking Bill Gridley proves to be the ideal candidate for her new tenant. For after catching even the briefest glimpse of Novak's radiant beauty (which can't even be hidden with a scarf or in the black and white photography), he flirts with shameless abandon and tells Carly he'd sign a one hundred year lease.

With the two sending off tangible sparks just in their opening moments together onscreen (no doubt augmented by the fact that they'd worked together previously in various projects for Columbia and Novak's serious off-screen romantic relationship with Quine helped solidify their friendship all the more), Gelbart and Edwards' innuendo filled conversational teases and romantic wordplay make it even funnier when Gridley inevitably discovers the truth about Carly's past from his superior Fred Astaire.

Persuaded by Astaire and forced by Scotland Yard not to cause an international incident given Lemmon's pleas that she's so angelic she has to be innocent, they encourage him to get even closer to Carly and report back on all of his findings. Shocked that they're asking him "to be a male Mata Hari," Lemmon initially refuses but is too smitten to stay away and far more worried when Astaire lays down the law that under no circumstances is Novak to realize he's been informed of her past.

"If she knows I know, I go?" Lemmon's Gridley asks and with the threat that he'll be sent either back to Saudi Arabia or somewhere even more remote if he fails, makes a spectacle out of international diplomacy or America's foreign relations in England, Lemmon grudgingly agrees to Astaire's terms.

And while this alone is the ideal So I Married an Axe Murderer style impetus for a great dark romantic comedy, the filmmakers constantly change genres when a real genuine mystery is revealed including foul play and a courtroom drama (dragged out a bit too long), a blackmail situation with danger, intrigue and more.

Although given its 123 minute running time and especially in a post-crime incident, a lull in the pacing that screeches the fast-paced plot to a grinding halt thereafter, making the second half a bit uneven-- all is forgiven and the entire film is saved by one wondrously choreographed homage to the silent comedies of Harold Lloyd, Charlie Chaplin, and Buster Keaton.

With Novak and Lemmon showing off their natural skills at pratfalls, wordless physical humor, and energy as they run around a Concert By the Sea, chase a wheelchair down a hill and more all in sync with the music-- it's a moment of sheer cinematic joy and among some of Lemmon's best onscreen sequences-- not to mention one that no doubt helped propel Edwards' affinity for silly physical humor he'd use again with Lemmon in The Great Race as well as with Peter Sellers in The Party and The Pink Panther series.

Under the Yum Yum Tree
(1963)
Writer/Director: David Swift
(Based on the play by Lawrence Roman)

Earlier I mentioned that-- had it been made later-- Lemmon's role in Operation Mad Ball may indeed have been given to Walter Matthau. And in the case of former Pollyanna and The Parent Trap Walt Disney Studios writer/director David Swift's first foray into '60s "sexless" sex comedies with the box office smash Under the Yum Yum Tree-- had playwright Lawrence Roman not originally written it for Jack Lemmon, I think it's safe to say that Lemmon's Some Like it Hot and The Great Race costar Tony Sex and the Single Girl Curtis would've been tapped to play the lecherous landlord in this two-time Golden Globe nominated work.

I mean, when you imagine a kinky peeping tom who only rents apartments to young women whom he plies with stuffed animals and heart shaped keys, the last person you'd imagine going for the role is our beloved "Everyman" Jack Lemmon a.k.a. the individual Chris Lemmon joked in both his book and the set's documentary called himself both "modest" and "America's Sweetheart." However, Jack Lemmon has marvelous fun trying to seduce sweet young things and break up two happy college sweethearts in this dated but entertaining work.

As the Sony Picture Home Entertainment box set's documentary notes, a scheduling conflict prevented Lemmon from taking part in Lawrence Roman's play when it made its run on the stage but he definitely made it up to the playwright by tackling it for the big screen in a film that would become one of the top-grossing pictures of 1963. And likewise it ended up garnering Lemmon one of his record-setting twenty-two Golden Globe nominations he would accumulate over the course of his amazing career.

Essentially you can think of Yum Yum as a male-centric version of a Doris Day or Sandra Dee film but one that goes much further than Pillow Talk, Send Me No Flowers, If a Man Answers, or That Funny Feeling.

In doing so, Swift's film casts the adorable Carol Lynley as the object of Lemmon's latest lust-filled obsession in one of two virginal roles which finds Lynley's Robin and her boyfriend Dave (Dean Jones as the other virgin in a nice gender switch) deciding not to give into holy matrimony just as an excuse or legal permission to have sex. Instead Lynley's Robin makes the choice that they will test their compatibility sans literally sleeping together by ironically "sleeping together" albeit in separate beds in the same apartment as a trial run at cohabitation.

And to this end with a daring idea of two kids shacking up without a certificate from city hall, Swift makes the era's other sexless sex comedies of Day and Dee look downright Disney by comparison. And this is especially the case given Swift's bold choice to move the similarly themed plot-lines of those stars' comical mistaken identity or misunderstanding narratives of loopy l'amour sabotage into the same terrain that Lemmon's other frequent collaborator Billy Wilder mined with his Hot co-star Marilyn Monroe in The Seven Year Itch (in which incidentally Wilder had hoped to cast Lemmon's later on-screen soul mate Walter Matthau).

Now finding Lemmon inside that (Wilder again) Apartment he stood outside of in the Oscar winning classic-- he dons a Hugh Hefner style wardrobe and makes it his mission to try and shag Robin by cleverly getting Dave out of the picture, wearing out the young man by urging him to take out his raging hormones with an endless regime of exercise.

And continuing his lascivious quest Lemmon's described "sneaking, crawling, dirty man" enters the young lovebirds' apartment on any whim with the repeated excuse that he needs to water the (plastic!) plants as well as taking to listening outside their door, trying to peep through windows to further insinuate himself in his hopeful disintegration of their relationship.

While of course there's no question that pure romance will conquer all in the end-- I confess at first the "ick" factor of seeing Lemmon as a sleaze took a little while to adjust to cinematically. Nonetheless the politically incorrect and eerily stalker-esque Yum Yum still remains quite a riot-- if only to catch Lemmon in a truly against-type role as a morally bankrupt leering playboy-- especially in moments wherein you feel like you've broken through that fourth wall and can truly see him visibly loving every minute of playing such a crazy part.

Good Neighbor Sam
(1964)
Director: David Swift
Writers: David Swift, Everett Greenbaum & James Fritzell
(Based on the book by Jack Finney)

While there's no doubt that the only way that Yum Yum could be made today would be as an eerie thriller, during David Swift's follow-up "sexless" sex comedy with Jack Lemmon the next year in the infinitely lovable Good Neighbor Sam, I couldn't help but wish someone would try and play with this piece again since it's a work of purely comedic Lemmon gold.

Not since I caught director Frank Oz's 2007 gem Death at a Funeral have I been so thoroughly convinced that this work would make one incredible stage production in the same spirit of British bedroom farces including the one utilized to brilliant effect by Peter Bogdanovich in Noises Off.

The set-up alone is priceless as Lemmon's all-American people pleasing suburban husband, father, and routinely overlooked advertising employee (one of the many men in gray flannel suits of the era so to speak) finds himself in two unbelievably strange situations all in the course of twenty-four hours.

Things start going Sam's way when his company's big time client-- the prudish and pious owner of Nurdlinger's Eggs (a game Edward G. Robinson)-- threatens to leave the firm when he runs background checks on all of the unwholesome men assigned to his account living Mad Men style Don Draper like lives of extramarital sin and pleasure. And much to his surprise, the previously ignored Sam Bissell is suddenly the company's MVP since his life is as clean as his vacuum-like name.

Having been given a major promotion to run the account, Sam rushes home to celebrate with the wife he adores (Lemmon's Great Race co-star Dorothy Provine) only to end up walking in on her best friend Janet (Romy Schneider) taking a shower. Incredibly embarrassed, Sam realizes he'd forgotten that his wife Minerva was picking up the divorced Janet from the airport where she's newly arrived from France to organize her grandfather's estate. Luckily, the trio laugh off the confusion and go out celebrating, only to realize that Sam and Janet are going to have to get a whole lot closer in the future so that Minerva's friend can inherit fifteen million dollars.

Upon learning that her grandfather left everything to his favorite relative, Janet's thrilled but her happiness dampens considerably when it's revealed that there's a clause attached to the will stating that she has to be married in order to receive it. However, due to a difference in California law, Janet ascertains that she's legally still married yet before she can collect on the money, her unscrupulous and greedy cousins arrive-- mistake Sam for her "husband" and then hire a 'round the clock detective to make sure she's blissfully wed.

Although Sam continually sneaks back and forth between the two houses (as conveniently Janet has rented the newly vacant place next door), further complications arise when Janet is also mistaken for Mrs. Bissell when she drives him to work to ward off the detectives and also when Janet's ex arrives out of the blue and decides that he'll keep up appearances too by staying with Minerva for the time being.

With all the on-the-surface, unintentional swinging happening, Swift's comedy grows incredibly funny as the two real couples and two fake couples get irrationally jealous as well as irrationally close--much to the delight of viewers. Of course, in an era of romantic comedies where deal-making and "pretend you're my fiance" or gimmicky paradigms are commonplace, it may not seem like (to those who have yet to check it out) that Good Neighbor Sam offers anything other than what we're usually presented with at the multiplex. However, it's in the constant raising of the stakes, the delightful twists and admittedly silly yet refreshingly likable quartet of characters who never feel like one of today's interchangeable rom-com "types" that make it well worth your while.

Although like The Notorious Landlady, the whopping 130 minute running time seems a bit excessive for a comedy (even one as complicated as this one) but it's the marriage of great innuendo again with slapstick, sight gags, and terrific supporting players that keep you from growing bored with what could've been a rather incredulous plot.

And in the end it's a pure delight and like Landlady and the TV short Marriageable Male one of the creative and jubilant titles in the collection that makes me recommend picking up The Jack Lemmon Film Collection without hesitation.

DVD Review: TCM Spotlight: Doris Day Collection -- April in Paris; It's a Great Feeling; Starlift; Tea for Two; The Tunnel of Love

This 5-Disc Set Arrives
Just in Time for Mother's Day Shopping

“Some of the downbeat pictures, in my opinion, should never be made at all. Most of them are made for personal satisfaction, to impress other actors who say ‘Oh, God! What a shot, what camera work!’ But the average person in the audience, who bought his ticket to be entertained, doesn't see that at all. He comes out depressed.

“I like joy; I want to be joyous; I want to have fun on the set; I want to wear beautiful clothes and look pretty. I want to smile and I want to make people laugh. And that's all I want. I like being happy. I want to make others happy.”

-- Doris Day (As Quoted on IMDb)

Introduction

And that is a goal that Doris Day has achieved having appeared in 39 movies, more than 75 hours of television and upwards of 650 musical recordings in her career as a singer, actress, and television star garnering an Oscar nomination as well as receiving both a Golden Globe and Grammy Award. Now a tireless advocate for animal welfare-- a cause she’s believed in for decades—with her very own Doris Day Animal League which merged in 2006 with the Humane Society of the United States, Day has continued to be an inspiration for women everywhere.

Although now in the 21st century, she's mostly known for her “virginal” and frothy, surprisingly sexless sex comedies co-starring her dear, departed friend Rock Hudson including the comedy favorite Pillow Talk that saddled Day with as she laments, “the unfortunate reputation of being Miss Goody Two-shoes." And while in fact it is Pillow Talk that I've always considered my personal favorite-- recently Warner Brothers Home Video and Turner Classic Movies has opened up the vaults to release a colorful five disc DVD set of the largely overlooked films in Day's career.

In the TCM Spotlight: Doris Day Collection that consists of painstakingly remastered digital transfers that focus on “Miss Day’s golden years at Warner Bros., where her career began,” Warner Brothers continues the excellence illustrated in their exquisite releases over the past few months on stars Natalie Wood, Sidney Poitier, and a Classic Romance Set in augmenting the works with vintage shorts and/or cartoons, original trailers, and more.

The debut of the set which contains works which span nearly a decade from 1949 to 1958 is also timed perfectly for early Mother's Day shopping as well as Universal Studios Home Entertainment’s 50th anniversary release of Pillow Talk. Additionally, it also coincides with cable channel Turner Classic Movies’ April event in paying tribute to the star over the course of the month as the TCM Spotlight slim packaged box set marks the third collaboration “in a series of joint releases” between the cable channel that's always been dedicated to “classic film programming” and Warner Brothers.

The TCM Spotlight presented by Warner Brothers, contains works from the studio that’s proud to house “the industry’s largest” library of titles wherein—along with Turner Classic Movies—they’ve chosen selections that emphasize “a broad group of classic films from various eras, all of which have earned an important place in film history.” And without further ado, we’ll go back in time to alphabetically analyze some of the earliest work by the woman who’s become well-known as “America’s Sweetheart.”

April in Paris
(1952)

Although it was new to me, April in Paris was Doris Day’s third cinematic collaboration with director David Butler (who helmed one of her strongest turns in Calamity Jane) and likewise had the distinction of being the overworked star’s twelfth film in five years.

In his recent biography Doris Day: The Untold Story of the Girl Next Door, author David Kaufman likens the plot of Paris to that of her first film--Romance on the High Seas-- as Paris finds Day appearing “yet again [in a work] built are around a case of mistaken identity and set, in part, on a cruise ship,” (139).

However, having never seen her debut effort, my initial impression of April in Paris was that—in a far more innocent way-- it reminded me Garry Marshall’s 1990 blockbuster smash Pretty Woman as both concern a free-spirited, adventurous and instantly sunny young woman who manages to charm an uptight businessman into letting down his guard and inevitably fall in love.



Despite the poor casting decision of pairing Day with Wizard of Oz’s Scarecrow—Ray Bolger as an ambitious Washington D.C. politician hoping to climb the ranks from being the Assistant to the Assistant to the Undersecretary of the Secretary of the United States—with whom Day has zero chemistry, it's still a mildly entertaining, harmless little picture that brightens whenever Day appears on screen.

It begins with a wonderfully amusing comedic set up that still feels relevant today as a French star battles endless red tape in trying to return back to his homeland and-- having dealt exclusively with Bolger in a series of round-and-round conversations that get them nowhere—the film cleverly illustrates the complications and human error that one inevitably finds in a well-intentioned government that’s operated by the people and for the people.

And when Bolger learns that he himself has made a rather embarrassing error by mistakenly extending an invitation to Ms. Ethel Barrymore to serve as an American delegate to Paris’s International Festival of the Arts to Day’s sassy chorus girl, Ethel “Dynamite” Jackson, he realizes he has no choice but to bring the uncouth and unsophisticated but naturally charming woman along.

Meanwhile, on the cruise ship we run into Claude Dauphin’s struggling Frenchman from the movie’s opening—trying to earn his passage back home by working in the ship’s kitchen (and seducing as many women as possible in the process). And when he sees the way that Day’s Dynamite is forced into a crash course of etiquette, study, and manner by Bolger and the man’s would-be father-in-law, Dauphine intervenes a la Pretty Woman's Hector Elizondo, serving as Dynamite’s “fairy godfather” in one of the picture’s most amusing numbers as Dauphin and Day have their very own ball in the ship’s kitchen.

Of course, as viewers expected, shortly thereafter Bolger begins realizing that he’s more than just a little interested in the vivacious chorus girl who makes his fiance back home seem as lifeless as a crash test dummy. A drunken wedding follows along with a series of misunderstandings and again while we never buy the relationship between Doris Day and Ray Bolger as they fail to ignite even a spark the size of a matchstick, and she had-- as Kaufman wrote “a lot more fun with Dauphin” (143)-- the movie’s dance sequences are as dynamite as Day’s character (showing off the lead stars' strengths considerably), thereby making it an enthralling find for her fans as well as Bolger's.

As the dancer Donald Saddler who worked on the film and became a good friend of Day’s shared with Kaufman, “of all the stars and principles I've ever danced with, I think she was one of the most gifted... I don't think she ever had any idea of how great she was. She just thought that was the way she was supposed to be. But when she was working, she was in her own world... she could do anything,” (142).

While instead of viewing it as simply the smile-inducing, lighthearted romp it was supposed to be—Paris which was released in the era of the McCarthy HUAC hearings-- was cited in Kaufman's book for being hammered with an accusation that the film had both a communist sympathy and sexually suggestive dialogue that was “degrading for both genders” that was sent to the Motion Pictures Production Association (Kaufman, 143).

And admittedly, those more familiar with the Pillow Talk, The Thrill of it All, Please Don’t Eat the Daisies and Send Me No Flowers era Day will be surprised by some of the film’s frank jokes about not being able to send Dynamite to France “unconjugated,” and Bolger keeps referring to Day’s physique creepily with the line, “what a built!” it seems ludicrous that such a fast paced, benign diversion would’ve been deemed remotely propagandist even when you take into consideration some of the film’s Frank Capra-esque jokes about bureaucracy that open the picture.

It's a Great Feeling
(1949)

In a film in which Donna Marie Nowak described in her online essay posted at The Films of Joan Crawford, noted was produced as “an attempt by Warners to duplicate the popular Bing Crosby/Bob Hope team with Dennis Morgan and Jack Carson,” we’re presented with the archetypal “star is born” premise.



Although it’s definitely not as memorable as Crosby and Hope’s Road pictures, it is directed by Road to Morocco filmmaker David Butler from an original story by future Billy Wilder partner I.A.L. Diamond as aspiring starlet and current Hollywood cafeteria employee Judy Adams (Doris Day) makes her last ditch attempt at a big break before she returns to Gurkey’s Corners, Wisconsin to marry her sweetheart Jeffrey Bushdinkle.

Filled with countless celebrity cameos including brief appearances by Raoul Walsh, King Vidor, Edward G. Robinson, Michael Curtiz, Danny Kaye, Joan Crawford, Gary Cooper, Jane Wyman, and Ronald Reagan-- It’s a Great Feeling is strengthened by the humorously antagonistic relationship of Jack Carson and Dennis Morgan playing themselves as Carson struggles to find a director who is willing to work with him. Ultimately deciding to make the film and star in it all on his own, Carson tries to lure Dennis Morgan whom he calls “the biggest ham in Hollywood” to sign onto his full-blown opus about the gay ‘90s entitled “Mademoiselle Fifi.”



Finally tired of quietly surveying tea and sandwiches, Day’s Judy grows bold, locking the door and dropping the key to Jack Carson's office down her bosom in order to audition for her captive audience. While unfortunately the key slides down her dress, the intrigued Carson cruelly promises Judy a part in his picture if she’ll help him trick Morgan into signing on. After she's successful, Carson’s conscience gets the better of him and he and Morgan chase her down to the train station in one of the zaniest repetitive jokes as Day and the others keep inquiring about the next train to Gurkey’s Corners.

Soon they decide to all work together and try to get their film produced and while a natural rivalry builds between the men, the old time Ginger Rogers RKO-like feel of the film keeps us entertained. However, the momentum is spoiled as the movie derails into an overly silly conclusion that ruins its excellent set-up as the three partners in crime try to cause the producer to “accidentally discover” Day’s natural talent in an increasingly ridiculous series of events.

Although its strength lies in the natural chemistry between Day and Jack Carson in their third film together (and Day’s third film period), It’s a Great Feeling was likewise her first in what would become a highly important relationship with David Butler who helmed countless films for the star, even though as Tom Santopietro and other critics noted, the backstage Hollywood setting to some “is of interest only to those working in the industry,” as he and others argued that it “feels like an antique from the 1930s, when Hollywood was first learning to talk,” (Considering Doris Day, 36-37).

While that assessment seems a bit harsh and it’s far more entertaining than the instantly forgettable next two features-- Starlift and Tea for Two-- and the film’s conclusion may not sit that well with feminists, there’s a lot to like about the film as it’s one that really gives Day a chance to shine and help prove herself as an actress who sings rather than a singer who acts.

Starlift
(1951)

Labeled a “spirited flag-waver,” by Warner Brothers, this production that is filled with a who’s who of the studio’s lofty roster of talent educates viewers on their efforts with “Operation Starlift,” as the celebrities welcomed and entertained brave troops at Travis Air Base as they left and returned wounded from duty overseas.

Mostly worth a look for those who simply enjoy reveling in the nostalgia of the golden age of film-- the messy picture which as Kaufman noted was “thrown together in a month—and it looks it,” is one inwhich even Day confessed she “didn’t care much for,” even going as far as to call the work “ridiculous” and question “why the picture was being made in the first place,” (126).

Although it purports to be a celebration of the stars and stripes and men in uniform in its simplistic tale about a young soldier who develops an attraction to an ingénue, ultimately, it feels little more than as Santopietro dubbed it, “an unrealistic armed forces recruiting poster of a film,” (62).



Day-- who appears only briefly – is one of countless other stars ranging from James Cagney to Virginia Mayo to Gary Cooper (taking part in a Western number) that all perform songs from such treasured American composers as George and Ira Gershwin and Cole Porter.

Tea for Two
(1950)

Much like April in Paris, Tea for Two is mostly memorable for its great production numbers. The first film in which Day was given the honor of top-billing not to mention the first one in which she danced on-screen which had been her childhood passion until a car accident put a stop to that and she discovered her natural singing ability-- this pleasant but forgettable second reunion with director David Butler is based on Otto A. Harbach’s play No, No, Nanette which had already been filmed once before.



A 1920s flapper era musical—in the film Day’s millionaire heiress turned aspiring “stage-struck” performer Nanette Carter is the last one to learn that her uncle lost a fortune in the stock market crash of 1929. Fending off a sleazy producer-- Billy De Wolfe’s Larry Blair who’s only after her financial backing, Nanette and her love interest-- the angelic singer Jimmy Smith (Gordon MacRae) try everything to get a show made and ensure that Nanette will rightfully get a chance to star in it as well.

Taking part in a peculiar bet with her uncle for $25,000 that she can answer “no” to everything for forty-eight hours (after she’s told she says "yes" far too often)—as a way to buy time for all characters involved to face the music, the plot grows much more complicated and predictable as her repetitive answer puts a damper on her love life.



And just when you begin thinking the show should’ve stayed on the stage, Butler ramps up the entertainment factor with its Gershwin based music and some truly amazing dance sequences including the ultimate showstopper that occurs roughly sixty minutes in as a character dances on a railing in tap shoes, jumping from the banister, window sil,l and stairs in a way that dazzles as much as it frightens.

Giving Day a great opportunity to croon some beautiful romantic songs throughout to change the pace in a piece that was beginning to feel a bit like an inferior version of the Gene Kelly/Judy Garland musical Summer Stock -- Tea for Two distracts with enough pure That’s Entertainment! value to keep us distracted from the nonsensical and needlessly gimmicky plot.

The Tunnel of Love
(1958)

There’s an old adage that states that “you are your own harshest critic” and such is the case with the movie that I found to be the most enjoyable one in the TCM Spotlight boxed set—The Tunnel of Love.

The film that marked Gene Kelly’s solo directorial effort and one that—in adapting Joseph Fields’ hit play that trades musical numbers for razor sharp dialogue and revealingly mature material—senselessly seems to be one that stars Richard Widmark and Doris Day are all too happy to disown.



Although the Kiss of Death, film noir tough guy Richard Widmark started on stage in the field of romantic comedy before he became typecast as America’s favorite villain in the ‘40s and ‘50s, he proves to be a natural and fascinatingly capable comedic actor in this film which centers on a married couple’s failed attempts to conceive a child.

While Doris Day’s character Isolde is actively pursuing all options, applying for adoption and taking her temperature every day in a diligent attempt to become pregnant—the 1958 film’s not-so-subtle views on marriage and sexuality make it feel far less dated than some of Day’s other work. And soon Widmark’s Augie grows frustrated by what is essentially a new relationship centered entirely on “sex on demand” as he laments that after suffering through a 105 degree day, the only thing he really wanted to do was take a cold shower and sleep… literally.



Following the endless visits of their amusing and perpetually pregnant neighbors Gig Young and Elisabeth Fraser who are on baby number four (despite Young’s loathsome view of his kids and preference to chase any and every skirt he comes across regardless of the matrimonial vows)— soon Day and Widmark’s attempt to adopt is jeopardized.

With Young’s insistence to Widmark that an affair will help spice things up and cause success in conception weighing heavily on Widmark’s mind—he fears he may have indeed strayed without his knowledge following an unbelievably bad case of mistaken identity and misunderstanding when instead of an old spinster, a Parisian seductive beauty arrives from the Rock-A-Bye Adoption Agency and too many tranquilizers and cocktails are thrown into the mix.



While I still found it to be quite daring, compulsively watchable, and enviable from a writer’s standpoint—not to mention dazzled by Widmark’s ease with comedy and Gig Young’s hilarious supporting role-- I was stunned to discover that Widmark told film historian Michael Buckley that he’d made “an error” by accepting the part,” saying “I was no good and neither was the movie. It could’ve been [better] with the right actor." Likewise, Day said the entire film seemed “strange” to all involved as it “just didn’t feel right,” (Kaufman 243-244).

Although perhaps this could’ve been because it was so different than anything else being made in 1958 for cinema—especially when it’s supposed to be played as a romantic tinged comedy—I strongly feel that the film has only improved with age and resonates today even more. Additionally and although normally as a critic, I’d never suggest such a thing—given the terrific source material and the fact that those involved weren’t pleased with the finished result, it may be just the time for the work to be remade since it’s far more relatable than ever as loving, capable and highly intelligent couples continually are put through the gauntlet of trying to have a child. In other words-- "Attention Hollywood, go out and buy The Tunnel of Love."