When I have heard the term “Capracorn” used to dismissively describe the output of director Frank Capra, I assumed it was warranted primarily by his It’s a Wonderful Life. It sure doesn’t apply to Arsenic & Old Lace, which is one my absolute favorite films. But, now that I’ve seen 1936’s Mr. Deeds Goes to Town, I’m pretty sure this is the film I’m going to most associate with that term.
Gary Cooper plays the improbably named Longfellow Deeds. He’s a quirky character in a town I suspect is full of them, though we don’t meet many of the residents. Like his namesake, he’s a poet, though his output is pretty laughable. He also plays the tuba, and isn’t distracted from doing that even as lawyers from New York City inform him he’s just inherited $20 million. He’s even playing along with the band at his farewell as they play “For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow”, which I guess means he’s actually playing “for I’m a jolly good fellow.”
He is relocated to the city, where he is put up in a mansion. The deceased’s law firm of Cedar, Cedar, Cedar and Budington supposedly looks out for his best interests (Cooper: “Budington must feel lonely”), though the lawyers are corrupt, which should surprise nobody. There’s talk about how disastrous it would be if the books were to be examined, though that curiously never factors into the plot.
Instead, Cooper will do a stellar job of digging his own hole. Trapping in a closet the bodyguards who are supposed to be watching him at all times, he proceeds to make a fool of himself around town, all in the company of Jean Arthur, who is the first woman he meets outside the mansion. Among his misdeeds is feeding a bag of doughnuts to a horse, something I wish we could have seen. Supposedly, he wanted to see how many it would eat before asking for a cup of coffee.
What he doesn’t know is Arthur is the reporter who has been writing the articles making front page about the rube she has dubbed the “Cinderella Man”. She is initially incredulous he does such things as run after every fire truck (something I can imagine would be a constant distraction in the Big Apple). Naturally, she is eventually won over by his sincerity. As she explains to a friend how different the city folk are to him: “We’re too busy being smart alecks. Too busy in a crazy competition for nothing.” I like that line but, like many of the messages in this picture, it is delivered with too heavy a hand.
At least the film is still funny at this point. That will eventually change, in what I consider to be a schizophrenic aspect of the film’s tone, which mirrors the mercurial personality of our hero. His turn-on-a-dime mood swings made me take a dislike to him early on. Consider a scene early on where he meets a lawyer representing his deceased benefactor’s common-law wife, with whom a child was allegedly conceived. Our hero is initially sympathetic, then he goes downstairs for a few minutes to meet with the board of the opera, who think they can squeeze him for a couple of hundred grand. When he returns, he is downright threatening to that same lawyer who was successfully tugging his heartstrings a very short time before.
Something that surprised me is the term manic depression appears here, which I would not have thought to be in the vernacular at this early date. This is used in the courtroom scene that is the third act, as Cooper’s sanity is put on trial by the law firm that had supposedly been assisting him, but is now trying to take away that fortune. There have been many ridiculous trials in the history of cinema and, in general, I am willing to give such scenes a great deal of leniency. But this bends the rules until they break. The one aspect of it I found amusing is how the main judge on the panel keeps threatening jail time, charges of contempt of court, expulsion from the court, etc. “if there’s one more outburst like that”. But then there’s another such occurrence, and another variation on the threat, ad nauseum. It is quickly obvious this is an empty threat.
But the most preposterous element of this long trial section is how Cooper remains mute until the last possible moment. So, we’re supposed to be on his side, and he can’t even be bothered to defend himself. Then, in another of his erratic mood swings, he suddenly runs roughshod over the proceedings, including a punch thrown at one of the Cedars of the famed law film, which makes each of the remaining three fall like dominos. I guess I now understand why they are the Cedars, and he missed an opportunity to yell “TIMBER!” as they tumble. Oh, but Budington falls, too, so there goes that analogy.
I am surprised this film was released a year into the Production Code, given some of the material. There was that mention of the deceased having a common law wife and, with her, a child. There’s also Cooper getting asked what kind of entertainment he wants for the night. Does he like them tall, short, blond, what? And then there were the many women kept on staff, though the butler confesses he does not know in what capacity they were employed. I think we can hazard a guess as to what he is inferring.
The cast is solid throughout, with Lionel Stander as the standout. He’s Cooper’s minder appointed by the law firm, and the audience surrogate for how we should regard the protagonist. At first, he’s the guy making snarky comments about Cooper’s peculiarities. Later, he’s the guy in court begging for our hero to finally open in his mouth and say something in his defense.
Weirdly enough, if there is any role in Mr. Deeds Goes to Town I wish had been recast, it is Cooper’s. I like the actor, and it is strange to see him younger here than I believe he has been in anything I’ve seen before. But there’s something in his performance where I can see the calculating actor behind the façade. Really, this is the kind of film better suited to Jimmy Stewart, who largely goes through many of the same motions in Harvey.
Dir: Frank Capra
Starring Gary Cooper, Jean Arthur
Watched on blu-ray