Welcome to a new Wildcard Wednesday! This week, I’m sharing the latest in my “potpourri” series on midcentury Broadway plays, specifically comedies, that I’m reading for (mostly) the first time. In this entry, I’ve spotlighted three hits that first opened in 1941!
ARSENIC AND OLD LACE (1941)
Logline: A drama critic is shocked to discover that his two kindly aunts have been poisoning men and burying them in the basement.
Author: Joseph Kesselring | Original Director: Bretaigne Windust
Original Broadway Cast: Jean Adair, Josephine Hull, Allyn Joslyn, Boris Karloff, John Alexander, Edgar Stehli, Helen Brooks, and more
Thoughts: Much like Blithe Spirit below, I’ve always regarded Arsenic And Old Lace as a classic. Not only do I love the 1944 Frank Capra film adaption with Cary Grant (it’s a screwball gem!), but it’s impossible not to notice that it’s one of the more regularly performed 1940s comedies. A title that people still recognize. This is because it’s indeed one of the era’s best — an adjudication reaffirmed to me upon my reread for this month’s entry. In addition to its hilarious and clever premise about a pair of kooky maiden aunts who’ve taken to poisoning elderly men and sending them to their reward, it’s got a well-paced plot that grounds all its lunacy with a root-for-able emotional core in the excitable but relatively normal Mortimer, whose fears about his own inherited sanity (or lack thereof) help unite all the ridiculous plot threads. In particular, the convenient arrival of the murderous brother with several face transplants has always struck me as even more of a narrative leap than the strange but funny initial logline with the aunts. But because it’s so thematically well-connected to the arc of the central character — and, again, the threat of familial insanity as a barrier to his forthcoming marriage — it all feels earned. Or, if not earned, then at least purposeful — in a way that’s a real credit to Joseph Kesselring’s craftsmanship, acquitting this as both a funny play because of its very ideas, and also a well-made play that really understands how to maximize those proposed comic notions. That is, the weird aunts, the delusional brother who thinks he’s Teddy Roosevelt, and, yes, this deranged madman with his own taste for blood — they all go together so well. As such, I think this is one of the most reliable comedies I’ve covered in this series so far — a quintessential Broadway farce that’s inspired so many other works, including sitcoms. The aforementioned movie adaptation is also great, and it’s great in large part because it’s a faithful rendering of this original text — a hilarious endeavor that deserves its maintained reputation for greatness.
Jackson’s Verdict: A laugh-filled, well-made screwball comedy.
CLAUDIA (1941)
Logline: A teen bride makes life mildly difficult for her husband, who tries to shield her from some bad news.
Author: Rose Franken | Original Director: Rose Franken
Original Broadway Cast: Dorothy McGuire, Donald Cook, Frances Starr, John Williams, Audrey Ridgewell, Frank Tweddell, Adrienne Gessner, and Olga Baklanova
Thoughts: Although the other two titles in this entry are better remembered due to a longer initial run and more frequent revivals, the Claudia franchise was a big cultural touchstone in the 1940s. The titular character — a naive teen bride who is just maturing into adulthood while navigating a marriage — debuted in magazines before spawning several novels, this Broadway play (based on the first novel), two films (the first of which was based on the play), a radio series, and even briefly, a half-hour TV show. The genre classifications of the radio and TV iterations are dubious — most sources refer to them as dramas (especially the radio show, which ran as a 15-minute daily serial), but the subtitle of this play, “a comedy drama,” would likely be more apt. In fact, as this play indicates, Claudia is always a fundamentally comedic character, lending any script in which she appears the opportunity for outright joke-writing and plots made up of scenarios that would be at home in any husband-and-wife situation comedy. Indeed, a lot of this play indulges the sort of light troubles commonly expected on sitcoms: making a husband jealous, struggling with finances, keeping secrets, etc. But all of that is humanized here by an emotionally mindful arc that suggests more consciously Dramatic ideas. Specifically, the text uses the pending threat of her mother’s mortality to demonstrate Claudia’s own growth from child to adult, as she sheds her codependent relationship with a parent (which has maintained even in marriage) and proves both to herself and others that she has the emotional fortitude to handle the harsh realities of life. It’s a wonderful journey for such an otherwise silly, lightweight character, and it makes this a compelling play — one I’d classify primarily as a comedy, simply because of her temperament and the style of writing it invites, but one that, no, isn’t the outright farce of, say, Arsenic And Old Lace or Blithe Spirit. To that point, I think it’s also a more difficult piece to stage today, for the depiction of Claudia herself supports a condescending view of the era’s gender mores. Now, personally, I think Claudia offers much nuance because it’s individualized by Franken’s specific character ideas, but modern viewers primed to be hypercritical might not extend that grace instinctively, and accordingly, it’s a play that would have to be offered artfully in order to be seen as anything other than an artifact.
Jackson’s Verdict: Seems silly, but there’s real character stuff happening here.
BLITHE SPIRIT (1941)
Logline: An author and his wife are haunted by the ghost of his jealous first wife.
Author: Noël Coward | Original Director: Noël Coward
Original West End Cast: Cecil Parker, Fay Compton, Kay Hammond, Margaret Rutherford, Martin Lewis, Moya Nugent, and Ruth Reeves
Thoughts: I’ve read this play a few times, seen several different versions, and love to listen to the 1964 musical adaptation. But I wanted to enter it officially into this blog’s record of mid-century comedies, for my study would be incomplete without it. In fact, I’ve even mentioned it a few times already, opining that while Private Lives is Coward’s funniest, Blithe Spirit is the best-crafted. Today, I might hedge on that first part — meaning, I think Blithe Spirit is perhaps just as funny as Private Lives. But that’s because, yes, it is indeed his best-written, with a unique story and a couple of characters who help elevate the text from some of its author’s usual traps. That is, I’ve often critiqued that Coward — while funny — tends to have such a dominating voice that all his characters sound alike, with little thought given to their personalization, especially as a means of delineating them. Fortunately, there are obvious distinctions here — largely due to the story, and to that point, the wacky supernaturalism of said story, which naturally pushes the author out of his usual modality and into something that can still reflect his trademark interests. Oh, he’s still dealing with the era’s social mores, particularly with regard to sex, but now via narrative ideas that can stand more separately outside of his own ethos. You see, this isn’t the quintessential Noël Coward play — that’s probably, again, Private Lives (which is why you could make a case for it being the funniest: it’s the most representative of his comic sensibilities) — but that almost makes it better, for while it’s unmistakably his, it’s also got value beyond his own style. And only a few of his comedies can really claim that to be true… Of course, I personally like the Noël Coward style, so I like most of his plays — with Blithe Spirit ending up his most enduring, thanks to its romantic, fantastical plot, which makes it compelling for any era and capable of evoking laughs simply because of its sheer foundational smarts. Accordingly, after having thought about it again here, I would say this is his best play. I mean, Private Lives is the best Noël Coward play. But this is Noël Coward’s best play. I hope it’s produced forever.
Jackson’s Verdict: Let me say it again — this is Noël Coward’s best play.
Come back next week for another Wildcard! And stay tuned Tuesday for more sitcom fun!