There are not a whole lot of outright comedies making the list for Best Picture nominations at the Academy Awards. It is a genre that is often overlooked when judging for the best Hollywood has to offer, which is a shame because there are a lot of amazing comedies out there. Even less represented is the sub-genre of screwball comedies. These are the madcap comedies that have a degree of energy to them that supersedes the traditional comedy and has a looseness that makes them a style of their own. Bringing Up Baby is a great example of a screwball comedy that has stood the test of time. Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn launch that film into the stratosphere with their comedic chops. Just the year before, though, Cary Grant was doing the same in a picture that he initially tried to get out of because he wasn’t jiving with the film’s director. That movie, The Awful Truth, is just as clever and funny, if not more so, than Bringing Up Baby.
It’s not easy to make a film about divorce funny; after all, it is generally a very serious topic and has become an epidemic in modern society. The film opens with Jerry Warriner (Cary Grant) having told his wife, Lucy (Irene Dunne), that he is going on a vacation for a week to Florida. Instead, he spends the week at his sports club in the city, giving himself a fake tan to hide where he has really been. When he returns home, he discovers that Lucy has spent the night in the company of her handsome music teacher, Armand Duvalle (Alexander D’Arcy), ostensibly because his car broke down. Lucy, in turn, figures out that Jerry did not go to Florida. Their mutual distrust leads to them insisting on getting a divorce. The judge awards sole custody of their dog to Lucy and gives them 90 days for the divorce to be finalized.
The rest of the movie is a back-and-forth game between the two as Lucy starts seeing a wealthy Oklahoma farmer, Dan Leeson (Ralph Bellamy), who wants to marry her as soon as the divorce is final. He also wants to take her back to Oklahoma with him, something she isn’t so keen on doing. Jerry, in turn, begins dating a high-profile heiress, Barbara Vance (Molly Lamont), a woman that Lucy feels is a poor fit for him. Throughout the course of things, Lucy and Jerry both begin to realize that they still love each other, but pride and circumstances keep getting in the way of a possible reconciliation.
It is refreshing to watch a film like this that doesn’t take itself too seriously, even as it is addressing a serious issue that has only gotten worse in the decades since. Director Leo McCarey was coming off of a box-office bomb, Make Way for Tomorrow, a film he thought was much better than The Awful Truth. He won an Oscar for the latter movie but, upon accepting the award, stated that he won it for the wrong film. Whether he did or he didn’t is up for debate, but there is no denying the power of his direction in The Awful Truth.
Every frame of this movie feels like it could be out of an improv skit. There is just a looseness to the whole affair that dominates the show. Apparently, while there was a lot of improv going on during the rehearsals, once the cameras were rolling, the dialogue and actions were already finalized. It doesn’t feel like it, though, and you can clearly see that the actors are enjoying themselves, which translates into us enjoying it, too. Some of the best moments of this film are reminiscent of bits you might find on a variety show. For instance, there’s a moment when Jerry comes to see Lucy, and she already has Armand over visiting. She hides him in the other room but misses that he has left his hat out in the open. For the next several minutes, we see her trying to hide the hat from Jerry, all while the dog keeps finding it and trying to bring it to her. The scene ends on a big note that would be at home on something like The Carol Burnett Show, lacking only the laughter from a live audience to punctuate the final joke.
On the evening of the last night they are officially married, Lucy, realizing she still loves him, shows up at Barbara’s mansion in an attempt to undermine their relationship. She pretends to be his sister and insinuates that they are from a lower-class background. To punctuate this, she begins acting like a showgirl, recreating a risqué dance number she saw earlier. This moment is one of the real highlights of the film and showcases just how good Irene Dunne is with comedy. Not all the comedy lands, though; no comedy hits it out of the park with every joke. The scene where the motorcycle cops give Jerry and Lucy a ride up on the handlebars is a little too silly. But it all leads to the wonderful finale in a cabin where Jerry and Lucy finally are able to admit they don’t really want that divorce after all. It’s handled deftly while just barely skirting around the limitations of the Hays Code.
The Awful Truth started out as a stage play by Arthur Richman. Then it became a silent picture in 1925, followed by a talkie in 1929. It was remade once again in 1937, the version we are looking at here. Subsequently, it has been readapted multiple times as a radio program, a television episode of The Goodyear Program, and was a direct inspiration for the film musical Let’s Do It Again, starring Jane Wyman and Ray Milland. This story and formula proved to be very influential and still tops the charts on the lists of the greatest screwball comedies of all time. Cary Grant is outstanding in a film he initially didn’t want to do. His physicality, born out of his knack for pantomime and his experiences working in Vaudeville, makes this film all the more memorable. This film may be about a rather dour subject, but it turns it on its ear and makes for one of the funniest films of all time.
Academy Award Nominations:
Outstanding Production: Leo McCarey and Everett Riskin
Best Director: Leo McCarey (won)
Best Actress: Irene Dunne
Best Supporting Actor: Ralph Bellamy
Best Adaptation: Viña Delmar
Best Film Editing: Al Clark
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Release Date: October 21, 1937
Running Time: 91 Minutes
Not Rated
Starring: Irene Dunne, Cary Grant, Ralph Bellamy, Alexander D’Arcy, Cecil Cunningham, and Robert Allen
Directed By: Leo McCarey
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