Welcome to a new Wildcard Wednesday! This week, I’m sharing the latest in my series on mid-century Broadway plays, specifically comedies, that I’m reading for (mostly) the first time. In this entry, I’ve got three early 1940s plays that helped fuel the trend of teen-centered media!
JUNIOR MISS (1941)
Logline: A meddlesome teen with a penchant for false assumptions tries to help her family.
Author: Jerome Chodorov & Joseph Fields, based on the work of Sally Benson | Original Director: Moss Hart
Original Broadway Cast: Philip Ober, Patricia Peardon, Barbara Robbins, Alexander Kirkland, Lenore Lonergan, Joan Newton, Matt Briggs, Francesca Bruning, Billy Redfield, Paula Laurence, and more
Thoughts: Following the familiar pipeline of stories to book to play to film to radio, Junior Miss was a popular title throughout the 1940s. Among the spate of new media franchises explicitly about teens, this one distinguishes itself via its main character: a 13-year-old upper-middle-class Manhattanite named Judy Graves, who is blessed with two loving parents, an older sister more preoccupied with boys than anything else, and a goofy friend named Fuffy. The plot of her 1941 stage debut concerns a series of misunderstandings that lead to Judy intervening in her family’s personal and professional lives, with temporary consequences that, of course, don’t get resolved until the final curtain. Sparking the drama is Judy’s mistaken belief that her father is having an affair with his boss’ daughter, a notion that then dovetails with a subplot about the return of her mother’s estranged brother, whom she imaginatively assumes is an ex-con (hence the reason for his long absence). So, in a scheme to hit two proverbial birds with one proverbial stone — that is, to break up her father’s liaison and rehabilitate her uncle — she does a bit of matchmaking that jeopardizes her father’s job. It’s a naturally comedic story, hinged on Judy’s false premises and her ham-handed meddling, which keeps her the narrative’s centralized, driving force in a way that’s, well, character-driven. And with clear personalities — at least for the teens — I do appreciate Junior Miss in terms of character. However, there’s some inartfulness in setting up the necessary misunderstandings that drive the plot — meaning, convenient contrivances and a lack of contextual awareness on behalf of Judy that, frankly, strains credulity. We’re supposed to chalk up all her booboos to the fact that she’s just a silly teen — and though perhaps valid, that’s a bit hacky and unspecific. Now, I say that having only read the text — good performances in a well-directed production could smooth over these hand-of-writer moments. And with a basic foundation for comedy via character, I think it’s very possible that Junior Miss could still play okay today, as a happy reflection of teen life in the early 1940s.
Ultimately: Perhaps a good production would trivialize the play’s narrative strain.
JANIE (1942)
Logline: A fun-loving teen decides to throw a party for the boys at a nearby army base.
Author: Josephine Bentham & Herschel Williams | Original Director: Antoinette Perry
Original Broadway Cast: Gwen Anderson, Herbert Evers, Frank Amy, Maurice Manson, Nancy Cushman, Howard St. John, Linda Watkins, Betty Breckenridge, Margaret Wallace, Clare Foley, and more
Thoughts: Although similarly adapted from book to play to movie (with sequel), Janie didn’t have the reach as the others in this week’s entry. That may be because it’s the weakest. It’s not as well-constructed and is more indulgent of familiar narrative tropes that are also less intelligently applied. Let’s start with the basics. Janie is a small-town but rebellious 16-year-old who, like Judy, is nevertheless also upper-middle-class (her father runs the town’s paper, and the family has several servants). In addition to a stern pop and understanding mom, she has an ally in her dad’s charming bachelor colleague, a nuisance in her obnoxious younger sis (who’s seven), a jealous regular beau, and several gawky pals. A pretty classic setup. The story here takes off with the arrival of an old family friend, an attractive widow whose 19-year-old son is stationed at a nearby army base. In addition to the heavily telegraphed romance between the widow and the bachelor, said army man naturally enables a triangle with Janie and her regular fella, with predictable results. The second act involves Janie’s attempt to throw a party for the servicemen while the adults are away — she has to get her folks out of the house in time, and then clear the house before the adults get back. And the third act deals with the consequences, before another anticipated happy ending where all is forgiven. Again, everything is very expected — there’s not a single surprise. All the romantic shenanigans are formulaic, the use of the terrible kid as a plot device (she even goes missing at one point) is shameful, and the party itself is so essentially tame that the stakes of Janie’s deceptive maneuverings are largely deflated. And this is in spite of the fact that every character is well-delineated otherwise, and the fun of a secret party is classic teen fare that typically works well in this subgenre. What’s more, Janie is a delightful rule-breaker — the spunkiest of this entry’s lot. But with these major narrative shortcomings, I’m afraid Janie’s strengths are overshadowed, especially in this competitive teen space.
Ultimately: Too many lame narrative conventions crowd out the text’s joie de vivre.
KISS AND TELL (1943)
Logline: A boy-crazy teen helps cover for her enlisted brother when he secretly marries the girl next door.
Author: F. Hugh Herbert | Original Director: George Abbott
Original Broadway Cast: Joan Caulfield, Robert White, Richard Widmark, Robert Keith, Jessie Royce Landis, John Harvey, Judith Parrish, Lulu Mae Hubbard, Frances Bavier, and more
Thoughts: Kiss And Tell is the finest of this trio and the most important in terms of the teen subgenre. You probably wouldn’t know that though without seeing the name of its main character: Corliss Archer. In 1943, Corliss debuted in a series of short stories, in her own radio program (called Meet Corliss Archer), and in this George Abbott-directed play, which actually opened while the radio show was running. From there, movies, comics, and TV shows followed (read more about them in my book!), cementing Corliss as a teen icon like Henry Aldrich or Archie Andrews. This stage play by creator F. Hugh Hubert may be her finest hour — offering a head-on look at the basic premise, and with a well-crafted one-off plot. Here, Corliss Archer is a 15-year-old flirt who, unlike Judy and Janie, lives a more mainstream suburban existence. Aside from her parents, she’s got an older brother who’s away in the army, a bestie next door (who’s nearly 18 and perhaps a bad influence — depending on whom you ask), and a pretty dweeby regular beau named Dexter. (In fact, later iterations of the Corliss franchise will rely less on the title character and more on the rivalry between Mr. Archer and Dexter.) Kiss And Tell’s story doesn’t get hot until the second act, when Corliss’ brother returns and decides to elope with the “bad influence” girl next door, without telling their feuding folks. This leads to a misunderstanding a few months later where the adults, who still don’t know of the marriage, learn about a pregnancy and falsely assume it to be Corliss’ (with Dexter). She takes the fall until, of course, it’s all neatly settled near play’s end. In the meantime, it’s all very funny — with real stakes and an acknowledgment of sex that helps the leads feel more grounded in realism. And this is despite the fact that it’s pretty yuk-yuk-seeking — the most like a sitcom — with a focus on laugh-yielding characterizations for, especially, Corliss and Dexter. But that’s also a testament to the play’s craftsmanship, which sets up everything that needs to be set up with regard to the characters and their world, so that the hilarious farce that develops feels narratively compatible. Indeed, with laughs, a well-laid plot, and strong, clear characters, Kiss And Tell is a high-water mark for teen-centered comedies. And a fun play in its own right.
Ultimately: Funny and well-crafted — focused on laughs, but internally well-motivated.
Come back next week for another Wildcard! And stay tuned Tuesday for more Community!