I don’t believe in witchcraft, yet I saved in a journal the last whisker and claw saved from our cat Sebastian before he passed on.  With these, I included the bandage which had been on his leg on his last visit to the vet.  In text which reads creepier than intended, I wrote that “with whisker, claw and blood, I summon you.”  What can I say—we all deal with grief differently.

I was reminded of this while watching 1958’s Bell Book and Candle, a comedy about witchcraft.  The title refers to a rite of exorcism, a condensation of “ring the bell, close the book, quench the candle.”  It means to bring something to closure, which I guess is what I was also doing with that diary entry.

Despite reuniting James Stewart and Kim Novak from that same year’s Vertigo, the real star of the film is Pyewacket, the Siamese cat belonging to her character.  On the shoot, the cat was played by multiple felines, with the exact number up for debate.  Novak adopted one of those and dubbed that particular one Pyewacket.

I have heard it said that, when using cats in a film production, there is very little training that can be done for them.  Instead, one tries to guide the cat where they need to go, shoot whatever they actually do, then incorporate their actions into the plot.  Have lived with felines for most of my life, that scans as true.  Still, whichever cat is playing Pyewacket at any given moment does some remarkable thinks, such as leaping up a series of shelves or stretching up to Novak for attention.

Pyewacket is even the first actor we see, as he jumps from a high shelf and, through the magic of editing, onto Novak’s shoulder.  This is in her shop/apartment from which she sells primitive art.  I always forget this movie takes place around Christmas, and her store probably doesn’t get much foot traffic from people looking for a holiday gift.  Actually, I can’t imagine she sustains herself through only this endeavor at any time of year, and this setup feels similar to so many movies and television shows of more recent decades where people have huge apartments in NYC and can afford that rent by such jobs as owning a cupcake bakery.  Then again, she is a witch, and as Jack Lemmon will say later, it is confusing why people with such powers were always poor back in the old days.

In an amusing open credit sequence, the names of the cast will be displayed alongside various tribal masks and figures in her store, each one reflecting an attribute of that person in an ironic or comical manner. The very tall and thin Stewart is represented by a figure of similarly exaggerated proportions.  The name of comedian Ernie Kovacs appears next to a figure that appears to be in fits of laughter. Even those behind the camera receive this treatment, such as producer Julian Blaustein symbolized by a fearsome, staff-wielding warrior and director Richard Quine curiously represented by a very small and unassuming figure.

Stewart is a successful publisher who wishes he had been the one to sign Kovacs, who has written a wildly popular book on witchcraft in Mexico.  Our protagonist is unaware he has been living in an apartment building with two witches who could tell him the contents of that book are bunk. Novak lives below him and her aunt Elsa Lanchester above.  Novak longs for him, and will use her powers to convince Kovacs to sign with Stewart for his next book.

One of the rules of witches, according to the rules of this script, is they cannot fall in love.  Like all such pictures, the rules are laid out only to be broken, including another which says witches can’t cry.  Speaking of “laid”, she will later tell him, in a surprisingly bold line for the time, “It’s nice having you over me.”  Sure, he lives in the apartment over hers, but that is quite the double entendre. 

There are some other lines of dialogue which surprised me, such as something Janice Rule says when Stewart takes her along to The Zodiac, a beatnik club which is preposterously straight, even for a major studio film such as this.  After Novak says Lemmon’s bongo player used to work in a store that sells herbs, Rule comments he looks like he has had too much “herb”.  Novak then points that bongo player is her brother, Rule says, “I’m sorry…” in a manner which somehow implies the sentence will end with “…that he’s your brother.” 

It will turn out the two women have a history going back to college, with Rule writing poison pen letters, provoking Novak to summon thunderstorms to exploit the other woman’s fear of them.  While in the club discussing the topic of thunderstorms, the band happens to start playing “Stormy Weather” and even crowds around Rule while doing so.

Novak had stated she would not use her powers to seduce Stewart, but changes gears when she discovers he and Rule have decided to marry later that same day.  Back at her place, he finds himself overwhelmed by feelings for her after she holds a very happy Pyewacket against her chin facing him.  Pye purrs and she hums.  The movie tries to convince us the humming did the trick, but I know how lethal it can be to point a happy, sleeping cat at a person.

Soon, Stewart is breaking off the engagement.  I like a bit where he is on the way to Rule’s apartment and coming up with various faults of his which would make their marriage a disaster, until he arrives at her door, greeting her out of the blue with “and, besides that, I snore!”  Rule takes this better than I would expect, and a bigger surprise is towards the end, when this very straight-laced character is painting what appears to be a Miro.

Another humorous moment resulting from Novak’s magic isn’t laugh-out-loud funny, but I was amused by Kovacs’s bewilderment at his own decision to suddenly fly up from Mexico to seek out Stewart.  The writer will give Stewart a brief overview of modern witchcraft and its terminology, such as males witches being called warlocks.  I  had hoped in vain he would say the term was “man witch”, because I like the idea of that group sounding like they are the revolting canned mean product Manwich, which was a staple of my childhood.

Neither man is aware there is a warlock in their proximity, and Lemmon will see a financial opportunity in the author’s arrival.  For a percentage, he will help write a factual book about witchcraft in modern New York, something which, if successful, will endanger his peers.  He takes the author around to such places as an herb shop, presumably the one he used to run.  Among the odd ailments its ware claim to cure are milk leg, whites, hollow heels, catarrh, wobbles and thrumps.

This is a sweet and goofy movie, though something feels unsettled about it.  As much as I liked the performances of the leads, Stewart looks a bit lost and Lanchester and Lemmon sometimes seem to be in a different movie than our leads.  Some of the humor is fairly smart and other times it feels like a sitcom, as if it is foretelling the long-running Bewitched.  Regardless, it is harmless fun, and the performance I enjoyed most is Lanchester’s mischievous and slightly dotty witch.  She is put to particularly good use whenever she can be petulant.  Lemmon plays things a bit too broadly, a criticism I have of most of his work, though I was startled by his outfit in one scene which would seem to be an inspiration Paul Reubens to create Pee-Wee Herman (at least, how he would dress the character).

Although I wasn’t alive at the time, the film captures a certain vibe of mid-century New York, even if it doesn’t appear any of the principal photography was on location.  I don’t know who tosses the hat, but a neat continuous shot follows what is supposed to be Stewart’s fedora flung off the roof of the Flatiron building all the way to its landing in the street.  If nothing else, the manner in which the sets are decorated at least show how the counter culture was crossing over into the mainstream now that the country was emerging from the dark era of the McCarthy hearings, something which is often described as a witch hunt.  This is alluded to when Stewart asks Novak if she has been engaging in any Unamerican activities.  I like her reply, which he does not realize concerns witchcraft: “No, I’d say very American.  Very early American”.

An odd behind-the-scenes bit about the production is how Stewart and Novak came to star in two movies made back-to-back but for different studios.  Novak was a contract player for Columbia, the studio which made Bell Book and Candle.  When Hitchcock wanted her for Vertigo, the studio agreed, so long as the director might grease the wheels for Stewart to be in their film.  Sometimes it doesn’t take witchcraft to make miracles happen, but just plain old cooperation. 

Dir: Richard Quine

Starring James Stewart, Kim Novak, Jack Lemmon, Elsa Lanchester, Ernie Kovacs

Watched on blu-ray