The Great Garrick - Film Impression

directed by James Whale, 1937

Its hard to describe this film without a synopsis, so I’ll just go right ahead and do it: David Garrick, perhaps the greatest actor of his time (and a real figure too), leaves for Paris to perform at the Comedie francaise, but not before giving a speech to his Drury Lane audience which incites them to cheer him on; to basically go teach the Frenchies how to act. The president of the Comedie francaise gets word of this, and devises a scheme which will ruin the great Garrick once and for all: they overtake the country inn at which Garrick has reservations, and play the parts of the guests, servants, and innkeeper. Their goal? To teach Garrick a lesson in acting, and give him the worst night of his life. But Garrick, thanks to a forewarning by an adulant fan, is in on the joke. But when a young woman’s carrieage breaks down near the inn, the arrival of this ‘real person’ into the world of actors throws a wrench into everyone’s plans...and of course, she falls genuinely in love with Garrick.

Hilarity ensues, and what hilarity it is...its as absurd and silly as the premise sounds, and there isn’t a second in the film that isn’t loaded with wit. James Whale is known in many circles for the crafting of high camp, and I don’t think any of his movies (at least not the four I’ve seen) are as indulgently hammy, cheesy, and goofy as this. The Great Garrick; the film as much as its titular character, is in love with the art of acting and the stage. And it isn’t in love with the ‘best’ parts of the performing arts, rather with the joy of delivering, emoting, staging and chewing up the scenery...not just the actor characters, but the actors on screen. Its one of those rare films where part of the joy of watching it is being “in” on the joke with Garrick, and knowing that everyone participating in the making of the film must be having the time of their life. It’s a loud, naughty movie that rightfully celebrates its lack of restraint. Its wonderful to see Garrick, and his partner Tubby (*Tubby*!) clashing knowingly with the plans of their ill-meaning hosts.

The film is entertaining on several levels...of course, aside from a few big names, most of the actors in the film are minor faces in Hollywood; faces you might remember somewhere in the back of your mind. Even Garrick himself is played by Brian Aherne, an actor who was regarded in his time but essentially forgotten now, who had gotten his start in British silent films; in particular Anthony Asquith’s first two. My favorite actor was a funny little old fellow named Etienne Girardot, who plays the enthusiastic fanboy who warns Garrick. He is a joy to watch; not just for his overacting The few big names, however, include none other than Olivia de Havilland in one of her first major roles. And, if you weren’t sold on this film yet...giving one of his best performances; physically and otherwise (he gives some of the best facial gestures), none other than Everett Edward Horton as the joyously ill-named Tubby (*Tubby*!). There’s also a very young Lana Turner, if you can spot her.

The film is superbly crafted all around. What could be an amusing little farce is brought to levels of high art thanks to a number of things. First of all, of course, is Ernest Vajda, who wrote the play and the screenplay, can only be commended for adding so many levels of wit to this seemingly convoluted plot. Once the film really gets going, hardly a scene goes by that isn’t breathlessly hilarious. And there is James Whales’s direction, which consists of surprisingly more than telling the actors to do their worst. When moments of genuine emotion creep into the film (as it winds down to its finale, with the game being up), the effect he gives is almost akin to Ophuls, thanks to a delicate use of close ups, and tragedy briefly slips into the film. Also, surprisingly, I have to give Mervyn LeRoy some credit. Looking into a bit of the film’s history, it seems that he is largely responsible for this film’s sets...and if they aren’t among the most convincing 18th century sets and costumes in classic film, I don’t know what to say. I would, in all seriousness, compare it to Children of Paradise in this regard; though Carne’s film is certainly less of a farce. The movie is obviously a self-reflexive work; not just the film but the people involved in making it, from Whale to the cast, and I can only imagine that further viewings will open the film up even further. On a cursory viewing, its already pure bliss; one of the only films I know of which conveys such a love for the act of theatrical exhibition, and I don't know what else I can say.

93 / 100

This is yet another film in Warner’s Archive, and like so many of the others, it’s a magnificent film, and shameful that the company won’t give it a decent real DVD. While still very watchable, its definitely the worst of the Archive that I’ve yet seen.