Welcome to a new Wildcard Wednesday! This week, I’m sharing the latest in my monthly series on midcentury Broadway comedies. For this entry, I’m spotlighting three shows by Philip Barry!
PARIS BOUND (1927)
Logline: Six years after their vows, a woman learns that her husband has likely been unfaithful.
Author: Philip Barry | Original Director: Arthur Hopkins
Original Broadway Cast: Madge Kennedy, Donn Cook, Gilbert Emery, Donald MacDonald, Mary Murray, Martha Mayo, Ellen Southbrook, Hope Williams, Edwin Nicander, Marie Bruce
Thoughts: Philip Barry tended to study the romantic foibles of the upper-class, with interpersonal conflicts often revealing misaligned value systems and warped understandings of self. His masterwork is 1939’s The Philadelphia Story, of which I see traces in Paris Bound, as it also involves a rich woman learning to swallow her pride for her own romantic happiness. But that idea doesn’t play nearly as well in this form, for these circumstances make it difficult to empathize with the characters as intended. Specifically, Barry victimizes philandering husbands at the expense of their wives, who are implored to forgive sexual indiscretions — the argument being that emotionally meaningless mistakes are no reason to rend asunder the spiritual, sacred bonds of matrimony. It’s a defense of marriage that’s moral in theory but in practice puts the entire burden on the wife — the partner who was slighted — and it’s especially rich to see one such wife lectured, as here, by her father-in-law, who famously cheated on his son’s mother (resulting in their divorce). This attitude, which minimizes the woman’s feelings, looks self-serving and condescending from a modern viewpoint. But I think even in the context of the era, it’s also not artful. Contrast Paris Bound with The Philadelphia Story from a decade later; the latter’s primary arc also involves a heroine, Tracy, who is similarly encouraged to extend grace to a (former) husband. The difference? It’s not only her ex to whom she needs to give grace. It’s her father (another cheater-cheater-pumpkin-eater). Her mother. And, most importantly, her self. She needs to recognize that not only are other people human, but she is as well. Paris Bound flirts with this notion by having its aggrieved wife consider a retaliatory affair, but it misses the point: Tracy’s journey is about self-acceptance, not self-abnegation. Freedom, not nobility. And its perspective is more wholistically presented. Accordingly, I see Paris Bound as a flawed, less well-conceived effort — memorable, but not one of Philip Barry’s best.
Jackson’s Verdict: This text suffers because its perspective is at odds with its humanity.
HOLIDAY (1928)
Logline: A young businessman who intends to give up work after marriage finds himself drawn to his fiancée’s more individualist, non-conforming sister.
Author: Philip Barry | Original Director: Arthur Hopkins
Original Broadway Cast: Hope Williams, Ben Smith, Walter Walker, Dorothy Tree, Monroe Owsley, Donald Ogden Stewart, Barbara White, Thaddeus Clancy, Rosalie Norman, J. Ascher Smith, Cameron Clemens, Beatrice Ames
Thoughts: Barry’s second-finest play (behind only The Philadelphia Story), Holiday is remembered today because it was also adapted into a 1938 film with Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant. That picture was actually a remake of an earlier version released in 1930 — an even more faithful screen rendering. However, this story and its core themes are consistent in every form, as Holiday is essentially a clash between realists and idealists. Those who embrace the traditional conceits of our established society and those who are their non-conforming counterparts, the ones who wish to live free of those obligations. The conflict is best embodied by two adult sisters who love each other but share radically different views of what will make for their happiness — as evidenced by their push/pull on the pragmatic’s new fiancé. He simultaneously wants their stern, wealthy father’s marital blessing but is naturally drawn to the carefree, childlike self-expression practiced by his fiancée’s black-sheep sister. It’s therefore a fascinating character study, granting a certain amount of humanity to all parties, even as Barry’s perspective naturally favors the dreamy non-conformists, who aren’t economically driven like the figureheads in this wealthy family. And yet, if that seems like it may invite strident politicking, it’s actually a lot more sensitive than that, for Holiday is about people, individuals. In fact, it’s really a pean to American individualism, drawing a link between the animating drive of an entrepreneurial ancestor who built this family’s fortune and the spark of courage inside the rebel sister who similarly wants to live a life of her own making. In that regard, Barry offers an insightful study, and although Holiday doesn’t have the singularly well-laid arc that makes Philadelphia Story so brilliantly crafted, it’s another smart and compelling character piece with rich conceptual ideas.
Jackson’s Verdict: This is a sensitively observed study of different types of people.
THE ANIMAL KINGDOM (1932)
Logline: An artist struggles to shed his bohemian life (and girlfriend) after marrying a socialite.
Author: Philip Barry | Original Director: Gilbert Miller
Original Broadway Cast: Leslie Howard, Frances Fuller, Lora Baxter, Ilka Chase, Harvey Stephens, Betty Lynne, G. Albert Smith, William Gargan, Frederick Forrester
Thoughts: I think I read this play years ago when I took a liking to its Pre-Code film adaptation. Revisiting it here reminded me what I appreciated then — namely, that this is a provocative study of what makes a wife and what makes, for lack of a better word, a mistress. In The Animal Kingdom, Barry plots a nevertheless fairly typical romantic drama solely to reach a culminating thesis that proves how the leading man’s wife has been his mistress all along, while his on-again-off-again girlfriend has been more akin to a wife. That is, his girlfriend is the one who shares his values and interests, the one who has seen him through the ups and downs of his life. A true partner. Their relationship is therefore deeper, more sacred, more spiritual. In contrast, his relationship with his actual wife has been totally transactional — a means for him to achieve the kind of lifestyle that implied maturation and stability, along with, in this case, an entrée to a higher social echelon. This exchange makes her something of a whore to him — not like the woman with whom he actually shares the things that are important. That reversal of the norm is fascinating and it makes the whole piece fascinating. Even if, reading it today, this isn’t necessarily a great play. The text is quite talky and light on action, with a slow pacing that also lacks the kind of laughs that would otherwise help elevate its charm. What’s more, it becomes too obvious too soon the way we’re supposed to feel about the contrasting women, which denies the last act its chance to impress with intended clarity. In essence, there’s a lack of nuance in the character work — despite a centralized idea that is inherently nuanced. Accordingly, I’d say The Animal Kingdom has a better premise than execution, and while I don’t think it’s as conceptually difficult to enjoy as Paris Bound, it similarly reveals narrative shortcomings, especially compared to the humanistic Holiday and the well-crafted Philadelphia Story.
Jackson’s Verdict: A compelling idea is undone by writing that lacks the same nuance.
Come back next week for another Wildcard! And stay tuned Tuesday for more Modern Family!