The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942)
Directed by William Keighley

Film Review

Four cute penguins, one octopus, one Egyptian sarcophagus, one sourpuss from Hell and Bette Davis in a bobble-hat - it's not what you would expect to find on many people's Christmas list but this is what Santa delivers in The Man Who Came to Dinner, one of the liveliest and funniest American comedies of the 1940s.  Davis was so convinced that a film adaptation of Moss Hart and George S. Kaufman's stage play The Man Who Came to Dinner would be a surefire winner that she browbeat Jack Warner into submission to give her the supporting role of Maggie.  The problem then was: who to take the lead role that Monty Woolley had played so brilliantly on stage.  Woolley's lack of film experience and homosexuality ruled him out, and Davis's preference John Barrymore was a non-starter because of his chronic drink problem, so Warners cast their net far and wide.  Having considered Charles Laughton, Laird Cregar, Orson Welles and Cary Grant, the studio gave in to the inevitable and finally offered the part to Woolley.  And it's as well they did.  To do otherwise would have been sacrilege.

Monty Woolley is The Man Who Came to Dinner, not just the title character but the heart and soul of this screwiest of screwball comedies.  His character's endless barrage of acerbic verbal assaults on anyone who comes within spitting distance is tirelessly funny, and you end up resenting the digressions to scenes in which he does not appear.  Woolley's character, Sheridan Whiteside, was based on the real-life critic Alexander Woollcott, and the actor - a former Yale professor and close buddy of Cole Porter - presumably modelled his characterisation on Woollcott, a man who was famously hard to please and always armed to the teeth with lethal put-downs.  It's hard to think of another American comedy in which the main character has such a dominant role over the proceedings, and Woolley's presence is so overpowering that it almost threatens to burst through the screen.  The actor absolutely revels in the role and relishes every line, making this a comedy tour de force that is still hilarious after fifty viewings.

Working alongside such a human dynamo as Monty Woolley is a pretty thankless task for everyone concerned, although Bette Davis was apparently grateful for the opportunity to appear in a comedy after a run of sombre and humourless melodramas.  You wouldn't notice it from her performance but Davis absolutely loathed working with Woolley, presumably because she was still hankering after John Barrymore for the lead role.  Whilst Woolley claims a virtual monopoly in the comedy department, Davis turns in a pleasing performance as an unusually amiable character, although she is at her best when the feisty old Bette we all know and love surfaces in her confrontation scenes with Woolley. 

Ann Sheridan is better served by the comedy but like Davis she is all but crushed by Wolley's larger than life persona, not the first actress to be sacrificed on the blood-stained altar of another actor's ego.  Reginald Gardiner is about the only cast member to avoid being crushed to death by Woolley's charisma, although to do this he has to resort to the cruellest but most deserving impression of Noël Coward imaginable ("How can one man possibly be as clever as I am?").   Alas, as for poor Billie Burke - it's just another lamb to the slaughter - watching her share a scene with Woolley is like watching cute little kittens being fed into a meat grinder. 

William Keighley directs the film competently but with no particular flair; he had previously directed Davis in The Bride Came C.O.D. (1941), another rare comedy outing for the actress in which she is head-butted by James Cagney and ends up having cactus spines removed from her rear quarters.  (You can see why she preferred drama.)   The Man Who Came to Dinner owes its genius not to Keighley but to a brilliant script that is ablaze with quick-fire dialogue and the unremitting gusto of a lead performer who is the human equivalent of a stampede of wild buffalo.  Just where do the octopus and four cute little penguins come in?  You'll have to watch the film to find that out...

Film Synopsis

A critic, public speaker and bon vivant, Sheridan Whiteside is one of America's top radio personalities.  During a busy lecture tour, he allows himself to be talked into having dinner at the house of a prominent Ohio family, the Stanleys.  Before he can cross the threshold, he slips on the icy steps and sustains a serious back injury.  Confined to a wheelchair, he must remain at the Stanleys' house until he is fit enough to walk.  In no time at all he has taken over the household, threatening to sue his hosts if he does not get his way.  Whiteside expects unquestioning obedience from all who have the honour to serve him, so he is duly nonplussed to learn that his long suffering assistant Maggie Cutler has fallen in love with a newspaperman, Bert Jefferson.  It so happens that the latter has aspirations of being a playwright and so Maggie passes on a play he has written to Whiteside for his opinion.   When Maggie announces she intends to leave him so she can marry Bert, Whiteside decides that he must do the only decent thing a man in his position can do, which is to completely derail the budding romance.  The critic's back injury turns out to be not so serious as was first thought, but it suits Whiteside's purpose to remain an invalid a little longer.  First he summons actress Lorraine Sheldon, on the pretext of offering her the lead role in Bert's play.  When she sees through her employer's game Maggie concocts a ruse to drive Lorraine away.  Unfortunately, the canny Whiteside is one step ahead of her...