“My business is with the principles of law. I can’t allow myself to get mixed up in these little local affairs.”
When a Supreme Court nominee (Ronald Colman) comes to stay in a country house run by a schoolteacher (Jean Arthur) harboring a falsely accused fugitive from justice (Cary Grant), he finds his belief in the sanctity of academic law put to the test.
- Cary Grant Films
- Falsely Accused
- George Stevens Films
- Jean Arthur Films
- Love Triangle
- Rex Ingram Films
- Romantic Comedy
- Ronald Colman Films
Cary Grant’s third film with director George Stevens — after Gunga Din (1939) and Penny Serenade (1941) — was this unfunny attempt to imbue a romantic love triangle comedy with a sense of political justice; or, as DVD Savant refers to it, “an odd blend of civics lesson and screwball comedy”. His review sums up many of the film’s problems:
The clever script has far too many climaxes, and starts off with comedy so unsteady that even pro Jean Arthur, running around in her pajamas all morning, has a hard time keeping things in balance. When they get into the meat of the story, the authors seem to be saying that good liberal thinking in this country (Colman) has to warm up to human needs if it expects to counter the avarice of landlords, factory owners and crooked politicians. In other words, there’s no right or left, just Corrupt and Noble, and the Noble better get off their podiums and into the trenches to fight for what’s right, or America is in trouble. It sounds great, but the end result is a little thin.
Indeed, the screenplay sets these characters up so predictably that all that’s left is a sense of curiosity about who Arthur will choose as her romantic partner — something apparently even the screenwriters themselves were uncertain about (two endings were filmed, and audience reactions helped to make the final choice).
Rex Ingram is given a thankless role as Colman’s loyal butler, shedding a long, slow tear for him when he decides to shave off his beard (?!); it’s small comfort that, as Savant writes, “He’s not used for a single laugh, which is very progressive for a 1942 picture.” Okay — but this is a long stretch down from his memorable, larger-than-life role in The Thief of Bagdad (1940).
Redeeming Qualities and Moments:
- Ted Tetzlaff’s cinematography
No; you can skip this one unless you’re curious.