Welcome to a new Wildcard Wednesday! This week, I’m sharing the latest in our “potpourri” series on classic Broadway plays, specifically comedies, that I’m studying for (mostly) the first time. For this entry, I selected three higher concept — idea-driven — 1950s laffers…
DEAR CHARLES (1952)
Logline: A woman decides to make her three adult children “legitimate” by choosing to marry one of their three respective fathers.
Author: Alan Melville, adapted from Marc-Gilbert Sauvajon, adapted from Frederick Jackson | Original London Director: Murray MacDonald
Original London Cast: Yvonne Arnaud, Garry Marsh, Charles Goldner, Gerard Heinz, Noel Howlett, Paul Hansard, Mary Holland, Michael Allan, Billie Hill, Beatrice Varley, Brenda Beith, Douglas Rae
Thoughts: This play had a long history, beginning in 1944 as Frederick Jackson’s Slightly Scandalous, which flopped on Broadway. It was revised by French playwright Marc-Gilbert Sauvajon, who made it a hit and allowed it to be adapted back into English by Alan Melville. This version opened in London in 1952 as Dear Charles, and then played Broadway in 1954 (with Tallulah Bankhead). Since then, it has been renamed Full Circle. The text I’ve read is the London edition, which is close to what was seen a few years later on Broadway. I don’t know the other iterations, but if they’re like Melville’s, they’re a mess — taking an inherently comic idea and ruining it with ridiculous plotting. For starters, the impetus for a mother finally revealing that she’s not a widow, but a never-married woman whose three children came from three different men, doesn’t make sense — just because two of the kids will be getting married? Why does that necessitate sudden truth? You’d think if she kept that secret this long, she’d guard it closely and it would take much more to get her to crack. What’s more, there is no drama — the kids take the news well, and she lets out with it easy. After that, the mother’s next move — deciding to marry so her adult kids can be legitimate — feels like a huge leap. Why do they need this ceremony now? It won’t actually make them legitimate, especially to their scrutinizing in-laws. And deciding, once she intends to marry, that she should choose one of their actual fathers as the groom… well, that’s just bizarre! Obviously, we want to see the dads, but the whole setup is contrived, and when they arrive, the fact that all three want to be with her again and have no issue with her deception is too convenient. Then, lastly, her hasty turnaround, going back to the original lie — the fake father in the picture above the mantle — is a letdown after all these shenanigans, as is the final twist that the future mother-in-law was never married either. At every turn, the plot is undercut because it’s unmotivated by character and common sense, failing comic notions by not supporting them. In addition, Dear Charles lacks conflict — conflict as the mom has no choice but to reveal the truth, conflict when the kids are angry at her deceit, conflict when their dads are placed in competition, and conflict when they attempt to put on airs for the in-laws. A few saucy lines for the leading lady cannot compensate for such an inept story.
Jackson’s Rating: 3/10
WHO WAS THAT LADY I SAW YOU WITH? (1958)
Logline: A married chemist and his playboy pal pretend to be FBI agents to get out of trouble with his suspicious wife.
Author: Norman Krasna | Original Broadway Director: Alex Segal
Original Broadway Cast: Peter Lind Hayes, Mary Healy, Ray Walston, Roland Winters, Roxanne Arlen, Robert Burr, Stephen C. Cheng, Pamela Curran, Virginia de Luce, Dan Frazer, Peter Gumeny, Richard Kuen Loo, Frank Milan, Joan Morgan, Gregory Morton, W. Edgar Rooney, Wallace Rooney, Larry Storch, William Swetland
Thoughts: This silly farce — adapted for film a few years later with Tony Curtis, Dean Martin, and Janet Leigh — follows an elaborate scheme cooked up by a married university chemist and his bachelor friend after said chemist is caught kissing a foreign exchange student by his jealous wife. In order to save the marriage, the two pals decide to convince the chemist’s wife that they are actually FBI agents and this was all part of a mission. She believes them, but chaos ensues when the real FBI gets involved, and there are mounting complications until the trio is captured by foreign enemy agents. Of course, as a basic romantic comedy, everything works out in the end — but it’s a wild, one-of-a-kind story on the way there, and this novelty is a huge part of its charm. Speaking of charm, the text, by the prolific Norman Krasna, is also very jokey, written almost like a situation comedy with an implied laugh-out-loud objective at every few lines. As a connoisseur of that genre, I consider this a compliment. Although, if I were adjudicating it as a sitcom, I’d also have to knock it for being totally idea-driven, consumed by its gaudy plot. Fortunately, stage plays adhere to different rules — there’s no “situation” that must be emphasized, so the individual narrative beats can be more important — and under those terms, Who Was That Lady I Saw You With? definitely has a lot of narrative beats. In fact, I think it really reads more like a movie, with 13 separate scenes in only two acts — a structure that creates a scope of action grander than we typically find on the generally more intimate stage — and a brisk pacing that essentially feels more cinematic than theatrical. As for the story itself, it’s so lightweight and goofy, with conveniences and contrivances that we only accept since it’s ultimately affable, and this script lacks the kind of artfulness that the best plays of this era possess, even comedies, which are usually more thoughtful about the human condition because they’re smaller and more character-focused. But this post is dedicated to higher-concept 1950s comedies, and accordingly, Who Was That Lady… certainly fits the bill. It’s never great, but if you set your expectations for a wacky B-movie farce, I think you’ll enjoy it.
Jackson’s Rating: 5.5/10
GOODBYE CHARLIE (1959)
Logline: An unrepentant jerk who was murdered by a jealous husband comes back to life as a woman.
Author: George Axelrod | Original Broadway Director: George Axelrod
Original Broadway Cast: Lauren Bacall, Sydney Chaplin, Sarah Marshall, Clinton Anderson, Dan Frazer, Michelle Reiner, Frank Roberts
Thoughts: Goodbye Charlie is one of the most notable versions of a familiar story idea — the awful person who is killed and then comes back in another body to learn a lesson. In a lot of these iterations, it’s a jerk who needs to respect other people, and in particular, find out how to love. This play — by The Seven Year Itch’s George Axelrod — is perhaps the seminal example of that premise and showcases why it’s so difficult to get right, for even with a solid text (that is, Axelrod’s verbiage is fun and character-y), it’s very hard to satisfyingly plot. The primary issue is that it requires a strong arc for the central figure — he must go from being unlikable and filled with flaws to redeemable in some way by what he’s discovered after “walking in someone else’s shoes.” And, when there’s a gender component — as there is here — that arc has to be specifically attached to what he’s realized from, in this case, living as a woman. To that point, Axelrod tells us that the eponymous Charlie has a transformation, but it’s stated rather unconvincingly in dialogue and not via action that reveals character. Furthermore, there are so many missed opportunities related to the switch — not just surface “walking in high heels” gags, but observations about how women are treated by men (such as the old Charlie) and how one’s perspective changes based on experience. Essentially, the leading character doesn’t evolve as a result of motivated plot, so there’s no believable growth. Additionally, the script engages homoerotic subtext — it feels influenced by Some Like It Hot (1959) — when Charlie realizes that the person he actually loves is his best friend… who’s a man. What exactly does that say about Charlie? Was he gay (and did it influence the way he treated women)? Or is Axelrod saying that merely becoming a woman changed his orientation? It’s unclear, and the play (along with the film adaptation starring Tony Curtis and Debbie Reynolds) deliberately avoids these titillating questions, ending with a deus ex machina where the pair can be together in a hetero dynamic, sans the friendship that notably undergirded their bond and inspired the love. Accordingly, Goodbye Charlie just isn’t thoughtful or well-executed enough to handle this high-concept story and its implications, and as a fundamentally flawed piece, it disappoints.
Jackson’s Rating: 4.5/10
Come back next week for a new Wildcard! And stay tuned Tuesday for more sitcom fun!