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Heaven Can Wait (1943)

Brilliantly rich in color, speeding through decades of a man's life, and tumbling with jokes and situations time and again, this movie has style and sophistication written all over it. On the one hand it's chipper and funny and clever, on the other it's a hair stuff and forced, or what director Ernest Lubitch would call stylized and refined.

The entire story is a flashback of a man named Henry sitting in purgatory looking at the underestimated Laird Creger. I think Henry expects to go to hell next, and so there's an impression that we'll see just how bad he's been in life (and you wish he had been more bad, actually). If you have this feeling of tolerance as you laugh and the movie speeds through its opening scenes, hang on! It rises up several notches and truly takes off when the two main leads arrive: Don Ameche who is rather good as the center of the tale and Gene Tierney who is totally wonderful as Martha, the woman of increasing interest. Tierney plays roles that combine reserve and style with a kind of undercurrent of mischief very well. She has to keep a slightly false style to fit the Lubitch sense of a "comedy of manners," but she otherwise is less of a caricature than the rest of the cast, her and Henry.

Speaking of caricatures, boy is this movie loaded up. Martha's parents are an extraordinary high volume pair, Marjorie Main and Eugene Palette (they could make an entire movie of their own, which you'll appreciate once the Kansas scene is established--there are some moments with the servants that are masterpieces). Henry's grandfather is the always impressively quirky and complex Charles Coburn, who luckily lives through many scenes.

The color (true Technicolor) is a character of its own here--the opening scenes of purgatory are like a color version of Mr. Thatcher's famous library in "Citizen Kane," the bedroom of the newly married Martha is a pink and baby blue wonder. Skin tones glow, flowers (of which there are many in this upper crust world) and drapes (all very fancy) pop off the screen, and most of all, that first blue dress that Martha wears is something to wonder at. The photographer, Edward Cronjager, was a staple of great 1930s films, and he got an Oscar nomination for this 1943 film (and D.W. Griffith said it was the finest footage ever filmed). And speaking of "Citizen Kane," there are several echoes here--the photograph that (almost) comes to life, the telling of man's life including his old age, and there's the long long dining room table between Main and Palette--that may or may not be intentional, but it's there, for sure.

"All my life I've wanted to run away with a woman," says the grandfather. "And it's happening!" But not like you think. Check out this very funny and beautifully filmed bit of escapism, which came out right in the middle of World War II. A welcome relief even to this day. And you know what's amazing about movies like this ("Dinner at Eight" comes to mind, too) is how really moving they eventually become--regular tear jerkers. But I'm a sucker.

This is the last of a series of hit comedies Ernst Lubitsch made in the years just before and during World War II. Ninotchka (1939), The Shop Around the Corner (1940), That Uncertain Feeling (1941), To Be or Not To Be (1942), and this one, Heaven Can Wait (1943), make up the core of a very successful body of work for one of Hollywood's finest directors.

If there is one phrase to characterize the "Lubitsch touch," then I would say "light romantic comedies," the kind made popular by Hollywood in the late years of the Depression. His films didn't have the subtle commentary on American life that Capra's did, but were more along the lines of old fashioned entertainment.

Heaven Can Wait is based on a play written by a Hungarian (all of Lubitsch's films during this period were written by European emigrés like himself, and as such have a more cosmopolitan flair than most American films). It follows the life of a Victorian playboy, Henry Van Cleve, of Fifth Avenue, New York, and is told in retrospective by the hero as he explains his life to His Excellency, the Devil.

Don Ameche is the main character and delivers a fine performance as the boyish rogue who falls in love with a beautiful girl from Kansas City, played by Gene Tierney. The film covers Van Cleve's life from childhood through a reckless adolescence up through his happy marriage and the years after his wife dies. It's a sentimental journey told with much levity.

The film has a number of terrific character actors in it, the most notable performance coming from Charles Coburn, who plays the grandfather everyone wishes they had - quick witted, caring, and always supportive of his grandson. Marjorie Main, Eugene Palette (the froggy-voice friar in Mark of Zorro), Spring Byington, and Louis Calhern make up the rest of the supporting cast.

While I enjoyed this film, it's not as well-crafted as some of his earlier work. Perhaps the "Lubitsch touch" had worn itself out, and perhaps the changing times had caught up to him. Considering that the war was going on at the time, the film does seem a bit out of place. Perhaps that accounts for the lack of depth in some of the performances.

I rarely bother to look up who the art director was in a film, but the visuals in this one were so striking, I had to know who was responsible. James Basevi was the art director (basically, the interior scenery) and was much used by Hollywood's leading directors of the time - Hitchcock and John Ford among them. The lobby of the waiting room for Hell was especially appealing in a 40's art deco way.

This was the final hit film Ernst Lubitsch ever produced. He made a few more films in the following years, inconsequential stuff compared to his earlier work, then passed away in 1947, during a period when Hollywood was turning to the stark reality of film noir.

By contemporary standards, this film is a bit light, but it's funny and touching in its sentimentality, and it's an enjoyable bit of entertainment from a bygone era.

Ernst Lubitsch, the great European director who immigrated to America and changed movies for the better shows his true light touch in this very original yet very charming story about one man's life and the changes and problems he faces. Don Ameche is perfect as the lead character, Henry Van Cleeves, a man spoiled rotten as a child but grows up and learns many things, mostly from his beautiful wife Martha, played by Gene Tiereny. However, the best role goes to Charles Coburn who plays the rough, frank, outspoken yet lovable grandfather who sympathizes with Henry and strives to make his life better.

The kind of material here could have been used to make an epic story on the level of films like Gone With the Wind or Giant. Nevertheless, we see Henry's life in full motion, always moving ahead even when he is helpless to stop it. And Lubitsch's touch has never been more prominent, taking some scenes any other director would have made disturbing or unsettling and giving them a witty and comical feeling. It's a shame Lubitsch died so early or else we could have gotten more of these classic and moving stories.

Utterly perfect Fox picture with handsome Don Ameche and stunningly beautiful Gene Tierney. It also stars the wonderfully hilarious Charles Coburn as Ameche's grandfather.

A well written, well acted and well directed film that is unjustly underrated and should be rediscovered. The entire film is shot in gorgeous full Technicolor and handled by director Ernst Lubitsch capable hands.

It details the story of a man, played by Ameche, who thinks that he deserves to go to hell after he dies. He then proceeds to recount his life story to the devil (Laird Creger). A true delight that is not to be missed.

A tale of a charming rogue directed by Ernst Lubitsch--but the great expectations aroused by that description are let down by casting (the un-roguish Don Ameche) and the demands of the period. In the Twenties and Thirties, Lubitsch directed some of the most exquisitely naughty movies ever made, full of Continental charm, in which the women are as clever and independent as the men. But this kind of material didn't suit the setting here, of Victorian America, or the stricter morals necessary after the adoption of the Production Code in 1934. Much of the wit is blunted, and its intrinsic cruelty is softened or denied. Gene Tierney winks so often at her husband's adultery it's a wonder she isn't cross-eyed. While earlier audiences could laugh and take this film at its own valuation, it is now difficult not to squirm at her humiliation--or wonder if her finding him endearing isn't a cover-up for her real motivation, his wealth and social position.

Another reviewer thinks the movie might have been improved by showing the husband's affairs rather than just alluding to them--they are very deliberately not shown because they would add an unwelcome note of reality. How sympathetic would the audience be after seeing Ameche kissing and fondling another woman, assuring her that he loves her, and that he doesn't care for his wife?

Despite all this, and despite the rather leaden pace, I emphatically recommend this movie. While it does not compare well with Lubitsch's earlier films, it is way above nearly every movie of today. There are plenty of neat jokes, in the art direction as well as the script, a deliciously sour performance from Charles Coburn as the story's one outspoken cynic, and an enchanting one from Signe Hasso as the ooh-la-la French maid. Pretending deep sympathy with the young man of the house, resentful at being kept in knickerbockers when he has the soul of an adult, she coos, with an irony he does not hear, "I understand--your soul is bigger than your pants." Which, in a way, sums up the movie.