What a delight this movie is. The Awful Truth stars Irene Dunne and Cary Grant as Lucy and Jerry Warriner, a couple going through a divorce after each suspects the other of adultery. This was back when divorce decrees were not necessarily instantaneous, when couples sometimes had to wait a period of time before the divorce became final (in this case, 90 days). Of course, they still love each other, and each one plots at various times to get the other back. There are, naturally, other love interests along the way, but the focus is always on our central couple, who just seem to be so right for each other. This film is one of the most well-known screwball comedies of that era, and it's probably the finest example that I've seen.
The chemistry between Dunne and Grant was so great that they would star in two more films together, My Favorite Wife (1940) and Penny Serenade (1941). They apparently improvised much of the dialogue on the set with the director, Leo McCarey, and both leads handle the witty, sarcastic dialogue with such ease. However, sometimes it’s not just the dialogue that makes a film funny; it’s the delivery. Watching their facial expressions as they deliver their lines makes the scenes even funnier.
Dunne is top billed, and her character has the enviable situation of being involved with three different men during the course of the narrative. Of course, Lucy remains in love with Jerry, but she cannot admit that since she is the one who files for divorce. She doesn’t particularly love her boyfriend, Dan Leeson (played with aw-shucks charm by Ralph Bellamy), but she does try to make the relationship work as best she can until Jerry interrupts it. She’s also suspected of having an affair with her music teacher, Armand Duvalle (Alexander D’Arcy), although from my perspective, he always seems to me like he’s more interested in Grant’s Jerry than in Lucy. This was the first film with Dunne I’d ever seen, and she’s quite a gifted comic and a talented singer, and she gets to wear some of the most incredible gowns ever create, courtesy of costume designer Robert Kalloch (often just known as “Kalloch”).
Grant is, as always, flawless. Was anyone more adept at reaction shots? He doesn't even need dialogue to make you laugh. Just watching him watch the other characters would make for an entertaining movie. The scene where he watches his soon-to-be-ex-wife dance with her new boyfriend, Bellamy's Dan, is amazing for the range of emotions that play across his face. He has the most revealing expressions of any actor of his time, and his style of acting seems just as natural today. Perhaps he was always just playing himself. Well, there are certainly far worse things to be than Cary Grant. Who wouldn't want to always be witty, charming, debonaire, urbane? No matter the situation, he always exudes style and sex appeal. If you don't believe me, watch until the final sequence and see what he does with an oversized nightshirt as his wardrobe. Or watch as he and the couple's dog "duet" at the piano. If you aren't in love with him by that point, well...
Actually, the dog, Mr. Smith, almost steals the picture at times. It's the same dog who played Asta in the Thin Man movies. Someone trained this dog well. Watching him play hide-and-seek with a dog-faced rubber ball or with someone's bowler hat (once even climbing behind a mirror attached to the wall) is hysterically funny. It's little wonder that the two of them fight over custody of Mr. Smith. His only animal competition is a cat that appears at the end of the film, and it’s an amazing feline. It apparently has the ability to hold a door closed!
I have several favorite moments in The Awful Truth. In the opening sequence, Jerry comes home with a basket of oranges to prove that he has been in Florida for two weeks. Of course, we've just seen him getting a tan from a heat lamp at his club. Lucy isn't home at the moment, having been stranded with her music teacher, Armand, after their car breaks down. Neither Jerry nor Lucy believes the other's story, leading them to divorce proceedings. The negotiations over who should file them is perhaps the most civil discussion ever held on the topic.
Near the end of the film, it's also a kick to watch Dunne first pull the knob off her car's radio, getting Jerry and her in trouble with a police officer. That same radio starts up again while they are driving to the country, and two motorcycle cops pull them over. Lucy wrecks the car and then asks the cops to give them a ride to her aunt's cabin. Watching Dunne use her butt to make the siren blare on the police motorcycle is one of the purest moments of joy in movie-watching.
Then there are the two performances of the song “My Dreams Are Gone with the Wind.” Jerry’s date, Dixie Belle Lee (the great Joyce Compton, a hoot in her brief time on screen), raises some eyebrows with her exuberant rendition at the nightclub where the Warriners wind up on separate dates. Later in the film, as a means to embarrass her ex-husband, Lucy does a “tamer” version of the song, but its suggestiveness still comes through – just as she intended. The song was written two years before the release of the film version of Margaret Mitchell’s novel, but the book was so well known that the connection had to be apparent to the audience for The Awful Truth.
The supporting cast is also first-rate. My favorite is the great Cecil Cunningham as Lucy’s Aunt Patsy. When Lucy is moping over her divorce, Patsy wants to go out and have fun. Cunningham can deliver a line like “They’re cleaning up in there” with acerbic wit or simply make a sideways look that speaks volumes. You might even wish there were a whole movie just about her.
The film is certainly not without its faults. As was typical at the time (and is still true a lot of the time today), it doesn’t give its actors of color much to do. There are only two roles in the film played by actors of color and both of them are servant roles. Kathryn Curry plays Celeste, the Warriners’ servant, but she has only a few moments of screen time. Miki Morita plays Duvalle’s servant who tries to keep Grant’s Jerry from interrupting a recital. He gets a few good moments of physical comedy, but his character doesn’t even have a name! Hollywood has a long, sad history of sticking actors of color into stereotypical roles. When most of the performers in a film are while – like this one – it makes it all the more eye-catching when a person of color appears on screen, especially when it is in roles like these.
I'm still a bit surprised that The Awful Truth was nominated by the Academy. Its members aren't exactly known for their respect of comedy as a genre, and relatively few "true" comedies have ever been nominated and it's extremely rare that one ever wins. This film, however, is a good example of just how good a funny movie can be when the elements work together. Perhaps that is due in part to director McCarey, who was awarded the Oscar for Best Director for this film. It does want us to reassess our relationships to ensure that we are with the right person, but it makes its message through laughter. As a result, The Awful Truth has become one of my favorite movies of all time thanks to this project.
Oscar Win: Best Director (Leo McCarey)
Other Oscar Nominations: Outstanding Production, Best Actress (Irene Dunne), Best Supporting Actor (Ralph Bellamy), and Best Adaptation
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