The Bishop's Wife: Cary Grant is perfect.
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Archived from the IMDb Discussion Forums — Classic Film
Sophienoire — 2 years ago(December 07, 2023 05:41 AM)
'I was praying for a cathedral.' 'No, Henry. You were praying for guidance.'
Cary Grant walking into one’s life is bound to solve several problems of the soul. Cary Grant as an angel walking into one’s life? Instant peace on earth and goodwill to man. But especially, to the man (or angel) that is Cary Grant.
No, no, I don't mean 'perfect'; I mean truly perfect. He is tall, dark, and handsome. He is witty and charming and urbane. He is impeccably dressed and groomed. He is intelligent and sophisticated, but in a relaxed, comfortable manner. He is, in every way, the platonic ideal of…well, everything.
Casting him as an angel seems almost too obvious, a preordained recipe for success. But Grant was not always to play Dudley in The Bishop's Wife, Samuel Goldwyn's entry in the 1947 holiday movie season. Accounts vary somewhat, but what is known is that Goldwyn, displeased with original director William A. Seiter, dismissed him in favor of Henry Koster after filming was nearly complete. Koster was told to start from scratch, but Teresa Wright, the original choice for the title character, had become pregnant and had to bow out. This left Goldwyn in need of a new actress, which he obtained by lending Dana Andrews, the original choice for the bishop, to RKO in exchange for Loretta Young. Grant was approached, but did not want to play the bishop; he preferred the angel, as suited his supernatural perfection. Thus was David Niven, originally hired to play Dudley, maneuvered to the relatively thankless role of the bishop so that Grant might play the male lead. Needless to say, this led to friction. Meanwhile, Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett were brought in to do (uncredited) punching up on Leonardo Bercovici and Robert E. Sherwood's script, which had tested somewhat weakly. All in all, the backstage machinations sound like a recipe for disaster.
Yet, as sometimes happens in such scenarios (Casablanca comes most readily to mind), the discord behind the camera only created a livelier, more beautiful product in front of it. The Bishop's Wife is a perfectly cast, perfectly acted film, a wry romantic comedy set against the backdrop of Christmas, impossible to imagine with any other players in the central roles.
As befits a Christmas film from the 1940s, Koster's film is not without a moral, in this case about the importance of family and community and generosity. But, until a closing sermon by Bishop Henry Brougham (Niven), it does not hammer its point unduly. It is an unhurried film, drifting gently from one interaction to the next, riding the charm of its performers and the tension of its unconventional love triangle to beguiling effect.
The story is a simple one. Henry, formerly the reverend of a small, lower-middle-class parish, has been promoted to bishop thanks to the self-serving political maneuvers of Mrs. Agnes Hamilton (Gladys Cooper), a wealthy widow. Now residing in the tony part of town, Henry has abandoned the charitable and kindly ways of his former ministry in favor of being Mrs. Hamilton's dancing monkey, raising funds for a massive cathedral she demands be built as a monument to her deceased husband, George. Henry's focus on his new, distasteful job has taken him away from his wife, Julia (Young), and their young daughter, Debby (Karolyn Grimes), and left him a cold, short-tempered shell of his former self. Exasperated, Henry prays for guidance; in answer to Henry's prayer (and much to his consternation), Dudley (Grant) arrives to offer assistance.
So far, so terrible, no? A plot synopsis makes The Bishop's Wife sound like people's worst misconceptions about the final act of It's a Wonderful Life stretched to feature length. But that synopsis fails to capture the things that make The Bishop's Wife distinctive and wonderful. Dudley is no mere do-gooder—he possesses all the charm and geniality of Grant, but also all of his insouciance and rakishness. There is an element of the prankster to Dudley, and as he charms everyone he meets (save Henry), there is a sense that his ease in getting his way might not always be put to heavenly use. Dudley never does anything wrong per se, but his methods are somewhat antagonistic toward Henry, giving the film a welcome tension as Dudley and Julia's relationship blossoms and the threat of adultery looms.
Grant plays Dudley to perfection, delivering one of his finest performances. His Dudley is always even-keeled, always warm, but always knowing, operating with the slightest sardonic smirk. He is believably divine, but not cloying or sugary. Grant underplays the moments of supernatural display (miraculously refilling a bottle of sherry; opening a locked door; decorating a Christmas tree in seconds flat), leaning not on some sort of 'angel magic' to sell his disruptive effect on the Brougham's lives. Instead, Grant mixes a droll sense of knowingness, a worldliness that is both alluring and slightly alarming, which draws in everyone—everyone except the bishop, who knows Dud -
spiderwort — 2 years ago(December 08, 2023 04:01 AM)
Agreed! I just watched it again recently and loved it as much this time as all the times I've seen it before. And I would definitely give a nod to the power of the script, adapted from the wonderful Robert Nathan novel. Nathan had a real gift for writing novels like this and
Portrait of Jennie
(1948) that were truly transcendent. -
ZolotoyRetriever — 2 years ago(December 08, 2023 05:58 AM)
I've only seen it once, but I remember I really liked it. You say "Cary Grant is perfect." No argument there, but I thought David Niven was perfect as well. Would love to see a version of this with their respective roles reversed, which apparently was the original plan.