JimBell Blog

Under discussion:

Bringing Up Baby  (1938)

It’s difficult to judge a screwball comedy such as Bringing Up Baby (1938) because it is screwball. The term comes from a baseball pitch popularized by Carl Hubble in 1934 where the ball travels in an unpredictable path. So you cannot insist on plot coherence. What is paleontologist Dr. David Huxley (Cary Grant) doing taking a leopard to New Jersey on the day he is supposed to marry his icy research assistant? You cannot demand realistic characterization. Why does Susan Vance (Katharine Hepburn), a beautiful, ditzy socialite, suddenly pick David off a golf course to be her future husband?  You cannot even hold the movie to the genre standards of a “screwball comedy,” because the term has no agreed-upon definition. It is generally applied to certain films made from 1934 to the early 1940s. Mistaken identities often add to the chaos, but not in Bringing Up Baby. Because of the Great Depression, class is often an issue, but not in Bringing Up Baby. Rather this film features the classic screwball romance—a mismatch in temperament and wealth between man and woman, with the woman planning the marriage from the get-go. The film also features farce, placing the characters in ridiculous situations. For example, as the two leads exit the party, she steps on his tux tails and rips his suit, and he tells her to leave him alone. When she turns to go back into the party, he is standing on the hem of her dress and rips the back panel out of it. She, however, is in no mood to listen to a word he says and walks back into the party unaware that her undergarments are exposed. When she finally figures it out, he’s there to help her make a Chaplinesque exit.

In 1938, New York Times film critic Frank Nugent slammed the movie because it had no original jokes. But, again, who says the jokes in a screwball comedy have to be fresh? The bottom line is the movie has to make you laugh or smile or, at least, be quietly amused, and a lot of that humour has to come from farcical situations. Bringing Up Baby worked for me! Why?

The plot of a scatterbrained woman getting an good-looking nerdy professor to marry her avoids a couple of obvious pitfalls. She could be too scheming to be likeable, but Susan is so chaotic that she doesn’t really have a master plan of how to get her man. Katharine Hepburn was wonderful. I never realized how good-looking she was—and the outfits she wore made her look more attractive. She had a girlish charm that made it difficult to dislike her. As for her victim, he could have become nasty about how she was screwing up his orderly life, but Dr. Huxley soldiers on, never getting vicious, always holding onto the hope that things will work out reasonably. Just as I never realized how attractive Hepburn was, I never knew what a solid actor Cary Grant was. I had assumed he was another handsome face. I didn’t know he’d run away from home to learn his vaudeville chops with a touring acrobatic company, or that at 18 he’d left the company in New York to pursue a gruelling life of stage plays and third-rate movies before he finally hitting his stride in films such as Bringing Up Baby.

The comedy is not just monodimensional farce. There’s slapstick—she drops an olive, he steps on it and falls on his top hat. There’s madcap chaos—three people talk at once and the dog, George, starts barking. There’s sly jokes—Dr. Huxley is introduced at dinner as a big game hunter, and he quietly spends the meal getting up to look for a dog. As another example, Dr. Huxley and Susan have to calm the ubiquitous pet leopard by signing, “I can’t give you anything but love, baby,” when the leopards’ name is, of course, Baby, and the two singers who don’t get along are falling love. There’s situational jokes—just when Dr. Huxley and Susan lose Baby, a traveling circus loses its dangerous leopard. And there’s the abstract conceptual joke—a dignified, systematic man of science is reduced to a humbled, confused man in love. I enjoyed the whole thing from start to finish.

Under discussion:

The Dhamma Brothers  (2008)

Dhamma Brothers: East Meets West in the Deep South (2008) achieves its purpose wonderfully, but I wish it had had a different purpose.

Director Jenny Phillips is a psychotherapist with a PhD in cultural anthropology who wanted to do something like the Peace Corps work she’d done in her youth. She got involved with the prison down the street from her practice, and she soon heard that a penitentiary in the deep south was going to try serious meditation with some of the hard-core inmates. Her purpose in making the film, I’d say, was to show that even the most violent offenders should not be warehoused but rather treated as human beings who happen to have been convicted of murder.

The documentary achieves its purpose by focusing on a small number of inmates such as OB and Grady. OB was part of a group young guys who wantonly shot at and killed people driving by. Although OB did not pull the trigger, he tried to protect his friends who did. When the offer of Goenka-style Vipassana meditation came to the prison, he says, “I was at a crossroads.” He was questioning lots of things, and after going through the 10 days of intensive meditation, he says he “slowed down” thus giving himself time to think before acting. Brief clips of his family reinforce the message that this is a decent human being who has paid 17 years for youthful stupidity but is now a guy who could make it on the outside.

Grady, who was drunk out of his gourd and driving the get-away car in a robbery where his two buddies stabbed a guy to death, knows he will never get out, so he wants his prison/home to be a better place to live. This, he comes to realize, starts with himself. He seems to truly incorporate the meditation practice into his daily living. Ingraining the deceptively simple concept that everything changes, Grady repeatedly says to himself, “It’ll be all right in a minute.” This stops so many negative reactions. Imagine if you said this and believed it. As a proponent of the meditation program, Grady says that, after 150 guys have been through the Goenka program, he can tell in the exercise yard whether an inmate has taken the course “by the way he carries himself.”

So we do get to know some of the guys and realize there is a big difference between “he is a murderer” and “he is a person who was involved in a murder.” Personally, however, I wish the film had explained the meditation program much more thoroughly. It is nice to know that these guys have changed for the better, but what exactly facilitated this change? The film does not explain where the Goenka method came from, creates the false impression that it is the same as Vipassana meditation (it is a small branch), and fails to explain what the guys do sitting on their cushions for 10 days. Worse, a glimpse of some of the charts taped on the wall of the retreat area have strange words and give the impression that there was a lot more in-depth stuff going on—but we never learn what it is.

It’s a film I won’t forget. As Jenny Phillips said on Oprah’s Soul Series, these guys are “human beings in great misery looking for solutions.” Ironically, their motivation for enlightenment is generally more fierce than yours or mine. I just wish the film had paid a lot more attention to the method that facilitated their transformation.