by Douglas Messerli
Robert Pirosh, Marc Connelly (screenplay, based on the novel
The Passionate Witch by Thorne Smith,
complete by Norman H. Matson; with further dialogue by René Clair, André
Rigaud, and Dalton Trumbo, all uncredited), René Clair (director)
I Married a Witch / 1942
In the first few
frames of the film, we discover the real reason why Wooley has condemned
Jennifer as a witch is because he felt sexually tempted by her when she followed
him into the haystack and attempted to kiss on his lips.
Clearly Jonathan
was an outright prude, about to marry an ugly woman named Purity Sykes (Marie
Blake) who is already criticizing him for not paying her more attention. The
film quickly moves on to 1770 where Nathaniel Wooley, obviously also terrified
of females, is about to propose to Martha, a very plain woman. And in 1861 on
the verge of the Civil War, Daniel Wooley’s wife Bessie is so violently hurling
objects at him that he runs off to the nearest recruiting office.
In fact, because
he has rejected her kisses, Jennifer, the woman who has just been burned as a
witch along with her father have, in turn, cast a spell upon all the Wooleys
who come after Jonathan, dooming the Wooley tribe forever to bad marriages, a
tradition Wallace is about to carry out in a forced wedding with a local
political bosses’ daughter, Estelle Masterson (a forever frowning Susan
Hayward)—although when later Jennifer reminds her father of the Wooley curse, he responds,
“Every man that marries, marries the wrong woman. True suffering cometh when a
man falls in love with the woman he cannot marry.”
March, clearly
not in love with his arguing fiancée, spends most of this part of this movie
with a drink in his hand, as he tries to escape Hayward’s scolds. At one point
she even forces him to given up his drink, which his friend Dudley (Robert
Benchley) grabs and immediately finishes off.
But the movie
shifts course when the barbarians “get inside,” so to speak, and refuse to
leave. And what else can you do when they’ve squeaked through but to fall in
love. It’s interesting just how influential this film was on later works such
as the play and film Bell, Book, and
Candle, and the television series Bewitched.
In each of them falling in love is associated with witchcraft, and requires the
male to readjust to a life with a woman who has used magical powers to woo him and
alter his life.
The surge of the
betwitching powers in each of these works is what make them so much fun. It’s
almost disappointing when Jennifer accidentally is served the magic potion her
father has cooked up for her revenge. For as she falls in love and loses her
powers the story becomes almost misogynistic as she spends an inordinate amount
of time between her clever remarks by posing in Wallace’s pajamas, displaying
her legs, and generally seeking out the male gaze as Veronica Lake purrs out
her sexual admiration of her companion.
In real life
neither of them much liked each other. As Guy Maddin has reminded us:
“No one could suspect how much they loathed each other. Lake
claimed she spurned the forty-five-year-old leading man’s advances. March
claimed she was an ill-behaved amateur. The hatred between the two performers
playing at romance on-screen is so hot it works wildly! Watching the heavenly
Lake, positively itchy with sexual frustration because she can’t seduce this
man, is enough to cast a blazing spell over anyone!”
Like was most
certainly irresponsible at times and often irrepressible. As she wrote her autobiography:
“One scene had me in a rocking chair. A picture falls off
the wall and strikes me unconscious. I’m supposed to sit in the chair without
movement while March desperately attempts to talk to me.
The shot was
medium, showing only the two of us from waist-high. We were into the scene and
he came close to me. He was standing directly in front of the chair. I
carefully brought my foot up between his legs. And I moved my foot up and down,
each upward movement pushing it ever so slightly into his groin. Pro that he
is, it wasn’t easy for him, and I delighted simply in knowing what was going
through his mind. Naturally, when the scene was over, he laced into me. I just
smiled.”
Yet there is
still enough fun throughout to keep the film as the Masterson’s drop in for a morning
visit after Jennifer has settled into Wallace’s mansion permanently, despite he
attempts to get rid of her. As in the original author Thorne Smith’s Topper
stories, doors inexplicably slam shut, brooms move of their volition, and rum
bottles speak. Pianos play of their own accord, the pot boils, and a revolver
goes off by itself, temporarily killing Jennifer’s father. By the end of the
film Clair even cooks up a flying taxi.
And even after the film switches to its
inevitable heterosexual plot after her drinking the love potion, Jennifer and
her father attempt to stop Wallace’s wedding by causing a small cyclone of
chaos as the couple begin down the aisle. When Wallace comes down again, it is
hand in hand with his friend Dudley and when his bride-to-be finally joins him,
the bridgegroom faints. A few minutes later, his fiancée Estelle finds him back
upstairs kissing Jennifer. And even though Masterson attempts to ruin the man
who was to be his son-in-law, Jennifer not only arranges for their marriage, a
room to stay for the night, but saves the election by allowing him to win every
single vote.
Like Kim Novak in Bell, Book, and Candle
and Elizabeth Montgomery in Bewitched, she finally admits she is, in fact, is a
witch, promising that from now all she will give up magic. However, she needed
worry about that since she had lost her powers and is now a mere mortal,
endangered by her father’s insistence that she return to the tree again. The
newlyweds are finally saved by mortal love and a cork put back on a bottle of
rum her pop inside. At the end of the film, we see the couple’s young daughter,
Tabitha, astride a broom.
Los Angeles, February 17, 2024
Reprinted from My Gay Cinema blog (February 17,
2024).
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