[This series explores moments (a sequence, scene, shot, image and/or dialogue exchange) that capture something memorable about the phenomenon of humans in or out of love.]
The Romance of the Mundane
Seeing a genuinely classic romantic comedy on the big screen - as I did in the splendiferous Los Angeles Theatre at the opening night of the L.A. Conservancy's Last Remaining Seats series this past weekend - reminded me that it's often the romantic part of such movies that's misunderstood in its cause and effect.
I can now attest in confidence that the 85 year-old It Happened One Night is still eternally young (many were the LOLs from its some two thousand seasoned 2019 viewers). There truly is not one dull moment in its 105 minutes. And one thing I noticed in this viewing, highlighted by the glorious black and white work of Joseph Walker (who shot roughly half of the best screwball comedies), was how little overt "romance" there was in the interactions between Colbert and Gable.
There is no onscreen kiss. Beyond one outsized, emotional declaration of love from Colbert in a moment of weakness, late in the show, and a later annoyed admittance of love that has to be practically pried out of Gable, the idea that these two are even in a romance would elicit incredulity from both characters. And this - central to the movie's underlying core gag: the unlikeliness of it all - is ironically what makes the movie feel so genuinely romantic.
In scene after scene, the joke we're in on (i.e. how much these supposedly carefree people are starting to care) is the subtext for an otherwise seemingly emotional involvement-free scene (screenwriter Robert Riskin excels at such ironies). Meanwhile director Capra and Walker unobtrusively work their magic, transforming the most pedestrian of settings into something heightened and, well... lovely. Being Depression poor has never looked so good, with two such capable, watchable leads making the most of a least that's cinematically rendered glorious.
Check out this literally glittering day-for-night scene (full clip here), that's nonetheless naturalistic and pragmatic in both tone and word - a congenial argument about the proper position for piggybacking. It's not just the surprise of Gable's move (you don't entirely anticipate it), it's the action itself: Gable picks Colbert up almost casually, and their intimacy is both conscious ("I wish you'd stop being playful" he snipes, as she bats his butt with the shoes she's holding) and unconscious: these in-it-for-themselves loners are already clearly coupled.
The movie's a textbook on how romantic happens, which is often when your characters are busy doing other things. We're the ones who get to savor the glory of what to them remains unseen.
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