Unfaithfully Yours (DVD)

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Preston Sturges was one of Hollywood´s first one-man bands. He wrote, directed and often produced all of his films, and his scripts were frequently originals rather than adaptations. He cultivated a wry sense of humor and a deceptively cynical view of humanity; generally positive but always skeptical. He lauded the common man and poked fun at self-aggrandizing elitists, often to a tiring and sometimes pandering degree, but with a more ironic edge than Frank Capra. I think Sturges can perhaps be summed up this way: he believed in the American dream, sort of.

Not many people could write snappy dialogue like Sturges, and his wit is on full display in "Unfaithfully Yours" (1948), the final major film of his career. "Unfaithfully Yours" depends almost entirely on the verbal dexterity of both Sturges and its terminally irritated leading man Rex Harrison. Harrison plays Sir Alfred de Carter, an orchestra conductor with a very young and very pretty wife Daphne (Linda Darnell). Harrison has complete confidence in himself, to say the least, and in his wife… at least until his brother-in-law August arrives to stir a tempest in Sir Alfred´s tea cup.

Sir Alfred de Carter loves his wife, but does not, as a general rule, particularly care for anyone else. This holds doubly true in the case of the officious August (Rudy Vallee) which prompts this exchange from early in the film:

August: You are no doubt aware, Alfred, that I have a deep sense of family obligation.

Sir Alfred: I wasn´t aware of it, but I´ll willing to take your word for it.

August: We are brothers-in-law, aren´t we?

Sir Alfred: I´m afraid we are, and there´s not a blasted thing we can do about it.

Poor August never stood a chance.

He has come to inform Sir Alfred that he suspects his sister (Daphne) of certain indiscretions. Misinterpreting Alfred´s charge to "keep an eye on my wife," he had her followed by private detectives who saw her… Bah, Sir Alfred will hear none of it and he grabs the detective´s report out of August´s hand and rips it to pieces. And that, as far as Sir Alfred is concerned, is that.

Alas, he cannot shake the report no matter how he tries. He throws it away, throws the trash can itself away, and even burns it but it keeps boomeranging back to him; eventually he is forced to read the contents and is not happy with what he sees. Apparently, faithful Daphne was spotted entering the hotel room of Sir Alfred´s young secretary Anthony (Kurt Krueger) where she stayed for quite some time.

This kicks off the action of the film´s second act in which Sir Alfred´s suspicions build and build until they consume him while he is directing his orchestra. During the symphony, he entertains multiple revenge fantasies in which he alternately kills Daphne, frames Tony, forgives his wife, and challenges everyone to a game of Russian Roulette.

This is where the film bogs down for me. Sir Alfred´s three separate revenge fantasies take up almost the entire second act and are framed awkwardly; in each case, Sturges dollies in from a long shot right into Sir Alfred´s eyes thus "entering" his mind. Perhaps this device seemed innovative in 1948, but today it just seems clunky. The revenge fantasies are long and drawn out (not to mention implausible, but I suppose that is the point) and the script all but buckles under this burdensome material though there is a substantial payoff in the final act when Sir Alfred tries to enact each of his imagined plans only to discover that reality doesn´t work quite as smoothly; it seems there is no such thing as the perfect murder. A protracted slapstick sequence involving a Rube Goldberg contraption of a disc recorder is particularly amusing.

Scarecrow-framed Harrison is a perfect choice for the acid-tongued Sir Alfred. With his clipped, clinical diction, he spits out each word like napalm, though his targets are seldom as soft as he first thinks. Sturges also breathes life into many of his secondary characters who prove to be ample foils for Sir Alfred´s verbal sparring. Sir Alfred tries his best to bully the seemingly "common" gumshoe who tracked his wife, only to discover that the man is a well-informed and passionate aficionado of classical music who thinks Sir Alfred conducts awfully well for a "limey." Similarly, a cymbal player in Sir Alfred´s orchestra becomes memorable for the undeniable zeal with which he performs his limited role; you never saw such a big smile or such big cymbals!