THE CLAUDETTE COLBERT COLLECTION (Paramount/Universal 1933-47) Universal Home Entertainment
An enviable actress with acute eccentricities,
Claudette Colbert remains one of Hollywood's most luminous and highly-regarded stars
from the golden age of make believe. Beginning her career in 1927, Colbert, who
intuitively reasoned “It matters more what’s in a woman’s face than what’s
on it,” quickly rose through the ranks, proving her mettle in
Biblical/historical epics and taut melodramas. “I’ve always
believed that acting is instinct to start with. You either have it or you
don’t.” Despite these early forays into antiquity, the bulk of Colbert’s career
in pictures would morph her into a congenial and contemporary go-getter with a
yen for sly repartee. Glamorous, stately, sophisticated and smart, Colbert
today is arguably best remembered for her turn as the madcap in romantic
screwball comedies from the mid-1930’s onward. In over 60 films, Colbert retained
that strange and elusive air of the classic movie queen - occasionally prone to
fits of temperament and certain eccentricities on the set, once telling a reporter,
“I know what’s best for me. After all, I’ve been in the Claudette Colbert
business longer than anybody!” To this end, Colbert insisted all her close-ups
favor only her right side to conceal what she alone perceived was a facial flaw
– a standing order that drove various directors logistically batty.
Interestingly, Colbert made It Happened One Night (1934) for director,
Frank Capra with so much reluctance that when Capra called 'cut' on the final
scene to be shot, Colbert under considerable duress. When shooting wrapped, she
simply grabbed her coat and hat and walked off the set without so much as an
acknowledgement to either Capra or her co-star, Clark Gable. Instead, she
telephoned a friend almost immediately to declare "I've just made the
worst film of my career!" As an interesting postscript, when on Oscar
night, the picture swept all the major categories, winning Colbert a Best
Actress statuette, she chose the moment to remedy her ill behavior, simply
stating, "I owe this to Frank Capra."
By the mid-1930s, Claudette Colbert's fame had
plucked her from relative obscurity in poverty row B-movies, entering into a
plush Paramount contract that made her the highest paid actress in the biz by
1937. “It took me years to figure out that you don’t fall into a tub of
butter,” Colbert later mused, “- you jump for it!” And indeed, despite
her various edicts, to remain steadfast throughout her tenure in Hollywood,
Colbert earned a reputation as being one of the hardest-working, most admirably
committed actresses of her generation; a real trooper with an investment to do
her very best work each and every time. She did, however, often test her
coworkers’ resolve by arriving late to work, a habit she tried to explain in an
interview in 1946. “There are some people in this world who can cope with
departures, and there are others who cannot. I am definitely one of the
cannots. I don’t know why it is, but there is a certain hysteria whenever I
leave a place. Even if it’s only the studio commissary where I have dropped in
for a cup of tea. I’m sure to have left my gloves behind. I suppose I am just
not psychologically prepared to leave places. That’s the reason I am never on
time.” In the days of yore, when Hollywood could afford to wait for stars
to be ready for their close-ups, Colbert’s tardiness was, if not forgiven, then
most certainly tolerated. As her roles morphed, from seductress/mistress, to
wife and mother, Hollywood gradually tired of Colbert’s particular brand of
wholesome martyrdom after the mid-1950’s – a ‘creation’ that, ironically, the
studios helped foster. Undaunted, Colbert simply re-channeled her efforts,
continuing to work tirelessly on the stage. “I have an ordinary face,”
she once suggested, “I guess it lends itself equally well to comedy or
tragedy.”
A stickler for perfection, Colbert once offered to
waive her salary if she could be allowed to hire her own cameraman. And
throughout the late thirties and early forties, the actress certainly knew how
to maximize her potential, appearing in Bluebeard's Eighth Wife (1938),
and, Drums Along the Mohawk (1939) her first movie in blazing Technicolor.
Although satisfied with the results, Colbert preferred to work in B&W. She
also began appearing on radio, first, in CBS’s Lux Radio Theater, featured in
22 episodes between 1935 and 1954, and then, The Screen Guild Theater, for an
additional 13 episodes (1939-1952). Colbert’s ability to predict her future
security as a freelance artist caused her to reject a 7-year contract with
Paramount in 1940. But it also afforded her the opportunity to appear in some
heavy-weight classics, including Boom Town (1940 – for MGM) and Since
You Went Away (1944 – for Selznick International and for which she earned her
second Oscar nomination) – big hits to further propel her reputation in Hollywood.
By 1947, Colbert’s standing ranked 9th on the list of top 10
money-making stars. She was, in fact, Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s first choice for
the role of Margo Channing in 1950’s All About Eve (the part eventually
going to Bette Davis after Colbert severely injured her back), leading Colbert
to conclude, “I just never had the luck to play bitches.” After 1954,
television work monopolized much of Colbert’s time and energies. She would mark
her last big screen appearance in Parrish (1961), cast in a supporting
role after which she officially instructed her agent to disregard any further
offers.
There are many reasons why Claudette Colbert has
remained a beloved in the hearts and minds of movie lovers everywhere to this
day – apart from her distinctive corporal features; her sophisticated manner, seemingly
effortless and easy-going acting style, a certain whimsical cheerfulness and shrewd
comedic timing, contributing to the total package as a slick and stylish
denizen of the drawing room screwball comedy. Rarely playing comedy broadly,
her self-reliant characters were instead perceptive spectators of, and interpreters
on life’s follies and human foibles. In life, she married twice – first, to
actor/director, Norman Foster, then, in 1935, to Dr. Joel Pressman, who
eventually became a professor and chief of surgery at UCLA’s Medical School.
After her husband’s death in 1968, Colbert maintained two homes - an apartment
in Manhattan and her vacation house in Speightstown, Barbados where, felled by
a series of small strokes later in life, she eventually died in 1996 – age 92. As
she never had any children, her entire estate, estimated at $3.5 million, was bequeathed
to long-time friend, Helen O’Hagan whom Colbert had first met on the set of Parrish.
And now - at long last - Universal Home Video has seen
fit to honor Colbert with a collection of 6 movies; 5 from her tenure at
Paramount. Spanning Colbert’s reign from 1933 to 1947 the films in The
Claudette Colbert Collection are more a testament to Colbert's versatility
as a consummate professional than the art of great movie-making. Indeed, most
the movies here are of the forgettable ‘little gem’ class, arguably, elevated
to something better by Colbert's performances in them. The first film in this
set is Elliot Nugett's Three-Cornered Moon (1933); an abysmally second-rate
comedy that holds the dubious distinction of being readily cited as the first
'screwball' in American film. Colbert is Elizabeth Rimplegar, pert daughter to
a scatterbrain mother, Nellie (Mary Bolland) and three useless brothers,
Kenneth (Wallace Ford), Eddie (Tom Brown) and Douglas (William Bakewell). This
wealthy entourage is rendered instantly penniless by Nellie's bad investments,
thus forcing everyone to go out and get a job in Depression America with
varying degrees of failure and success. The family's trusted physician, Dr.
Alan Stevens (Richard Arlen) secretly pines for Elizabeth, even though she is
engaged to penniless hack writer, Ronald (Hardie Albright). However, when
Kenneth's girlfriend, Kitty (Joan Marsh) takes up with Ronald, the doctor makes
his move and he and Elizabeth vow to marry. The screenplay by Ray Harris and
S.K. Laren cannot focus on any one in the cast long enough for our sympathies
to agree on a favorite. Colbert is given the plum part, but it is constantly
being interrupted by some such nonsense featuring Elizabeth's ineffectual
brothers or business with the foreign housemaid, Jenny (Lyda Roberti) whose
constant fracturing of the English language is painfully obtuse. Point blank: Roberti
is no Carmen Miranda!
Colbert fares infinitely better in Frank Lloyd's Maid
of Salem (1937), a fictionalized account of the paranoia that spread during
the trials to condemn many an innocent woman to death for witchcraft. Colbert
is Barbara Clarke - a maiden whose rural community is rocked by rumors there
are witches living among them. Barbara meets Roger Coverman (Fred MacMurray), a
political exile who romances her behind closed doors but reveals too much of
himself in dark shadows - thus convincing some of the simpler-minded folk that
Satan is lurking about town. Unable to reveal the truth about Roger without
betraying him, Barbara is accused of being a witch (a similar charge conveyed
against her late mother) and sentenced to death. After being imprisoned, Roger
receives a reprieve from the governor and comes to Barbara's aid. Maid of Salem
is spotty entertainment at best with its screenplay by Bradley King something
of a mishmash of spook stories and half truths about the real Salem witch
hunts. Nevertheless, the film holds together primarily because of Colbert's
compelling performance. Although an amiable actor in his own right, Fred
MacMurray is miscast as the Irish dissident on the lam.
Next up is Wesley Ruggles' I Met Him in Paris
(1937); a whacked out - rather than whacky - screwball comedy that pits
Colbert's Kay Deham against a pair of would-be Lotharios; foppish playwright,
George Potter (Melvyn Douglas) and his ragtag man about town/best friend, Gene
Anders (Robert Young). The boys are on holiday in Paris when they stumble
across Kay who is having trouble relating to the locals in their native tongue.
Coming to Kay's rescue, George is clearly smitten by her charms - though somehow
unable to articulate his feelings. These translate into awkward contempt,
leaving the romantic playing field wide open for Gene...if only he did not already
have a wife back in America. Gene strikes a bargain with George to keep his
secret, a promise that seems in constant danger of being broken. Whisking Kay
to a snowy retreat in Switzerland, Gene pulls out all the romantic stops to win
Kay's heart. However, when Gene's wife, Helen (Mona Barrie) arrives for a
surprise visit, Kay realizes what a fool she has been. Working from a
screenplay by Claude Binyon and Helen Meinardi, I Met Him in Paris is
too contrived to be fully appreciated. The situations are awkwardly staged and
happen almost by accident rather than through plausible circumstances. Even
Colbert seems ill at ease with the material she's been given - no spark of romantic
chemistry between the costars, leaving the affair rather cold and flat.
The next film, Ernest Lubitsch's Bluebeard's Eighth
Wife (1938) rectifies all major sins committed thus far. Colbert is
magnificent as Nicole Deloiselle - an attractive gal in search of the bottom
half of a pair of pajamas for her doting uncle, the Marquis (Edward Everett
Horton). A cute meet with brash American Michael Brandon (Gary Cooper) in the
men's department of a Parisian shop leads to a hilarious misunderstanding. Michael
falls in love with Nicole without first telling her he has had seven previous
failed marriages to his discredit. Discovering this fact leaves Nicole rather
jealous. She goes through with her marriage to Michael, then embarks upon a
campaign to make him insanely jealous of her attractiveness to other men. What
is often referred to by critics as 'the Lubtisch touch' - the director's penchant
for entertaining elegant European wit and sophistication with a light
smattering of the slightly naughty - is working overtime in Bluebeard's
Eighth Wife. From start to finish the film is a lush and gregarious
confection of riotous plot developments. The screenplay by Charles Brackett and
Billy Wilder is A-1 - deftly ladling frivolity with moments of inspired wit and
charm. There is genuine chemistry between Colbert and Cooper - a quiet
animosity that gradually and quite plausibly builds into love.
Next, Mitchell Leisen's No Time for Love (1943),
and, almost as good, with Colbert cast as Katherine Grant - a photographer much
sought after for her keen eye and skill with a camera. After Katherine's editor
assigns her to take pictures of 'sandhogs' building an underground vehicular
tunnel, Katherine comes face to face with Jim Ryan; an opinionated digger she
nicknames 'the ape' but who stirs Kate's romantic interests primarily because
he is so self-assured and overtly butch. Katherine's sister, Hoppy (Ilke Chase)
urges her to publish a photograph taken in the mine of Jim slugging another
worker during a brawl. Katherine refuses, then finds that her editor and soon
to be fiancée, Henry Fulton (Paul McGrath) has published the photo anyway without
her permission. The exposure gets Jim suspended from his job. To make up for
his loss, Katherine hires Jim to do odd jobs as she photographs subjects for
the magazine. The on-screen chemistry between Colbert and MacMurray only
previously glimpsed in Maid of Salem is fully explored in No Time for
Love with riotous results. The romantic sparring between here is genuinely
electric, particularly during scenes where Jim calls out Katherine to admit her
obvious attraction toward him. In one of the movie’s best-remembered sequences,
Katherine is assigned to photograph muscular model, Leon Brice (Jerome DeNuccio)
- sparking a near lethal confrontation between Leon and Jim that ends when Jim
takes Leon's dumbbell and tosses it into Leon, thereby sending the man and his
muscles sailing through the paper thin photographic backdrop Katherine has set
up in her studio.
This collection is capped off by Chester Erskine's The
Egg and I (1947). Colbert and MacMurray once again - this time cast as
Betty and Bob MacDonald, a loving couple put to the test when Bob announces he
has decided to give up city life and his promising career in advertising to
become a chicken farmer instead. Based on Betty MacDonald's slightly
autobiographical novel, the screenplay by Erskine and Fred F. Finklehoffe
delights at extolling various 'fish out of water' scenarios, inevitably
to arise when city folk make the rocky transition to country life, thus
threatening the MacDonald's happy marriage. The movie is also noteworthy for
its debut of Percy Kilbride and Marjorie Main as the irrepressible Ma' and Pa'
Kettle - country bumpkins who sponge aid and take advantage of the McDonalds as
they reshape their lives into the very picture of rural bliss...well, sort of.
The first 5 movies in this collection are from
Colbert's Paramount tenure. The last marked one of Colbert’s most successful
movies ever – made for Universal. All are B&W and all have been digitally
remastered to look their best - although the results are not entirely
thrilling. Not surprising, the poorest transfer of the lot is the oldest; Three-Cornered
Moon, its image suffering from slightly lower than expected contrast levels
and a loss of fine detail throughout. Otherwise, the transfer quality on the
remaining titles falls into the mid-range. On Bluebeard's Eighth Wife,
there are several glaring instances where the image wobbles (presumably from
sprocket hole damage). Minor edge enhancement plagues The Egg and I but
will surely not distract. Otherwise, the transfers are generally crisp and
remarkably free of age-related artifacts. The audio on all titles is mono as
originally recorded and quite adequately represented. The real disappointment
here is that Universal has given us NO extra features - not even theatrical
trailers and/or audio commentaries to supplement the films. For shame! Also, it
should be noted that, at present, Blu-ray transfers exist for both The Egg
and I, and Bluebeard’s Eight Wife, making their inclusion in this DVD
set rather obsolete.
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
Three-Cornered Moon 1
Maid of Salem 3
I Met Him in Paris 2.5
Bluebeard's Eighth Wife 4
No Time for Love 3.5
The Egg and I 3.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
Overall - 3.5
EXTRAS
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