Perhaps it’s the way Margaret Sullavan suggests Herbert Marshall would look better without a beard. Because I’m a sucker for a good makeover scene. Or that in a film about the seduction of innocence, the sofa in the hotel room gave the censors grief. But it’s probably more about the fact that during filming, and after lots of fighting, Director William Wyler, and starlet Margaret Sullavan ran off and eloped. Whatever it was, if you want to see the world through a different shade of glasses, Preston Sturges’s The Good Fairy is worth the watch.
As a result of a slew of scandalous behavior across Hollywood in the early 1920s, most notably the alleged rape of Virginia Rappe by comic icon, Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle, Will Hays was tasked with creating a formula that would ensure decency in film. Backed by a court case that determined that Free Speech didn’t extend to Motion Pictures ( Mutual Film Corporation v. Industrial Commission of Ohio 1915), he set about his work in dissecting films, and making lists. While the work started in 1924, it didn’t actually come to fruition with a vengeance until July 1, 1934, in which ALL films would need a Certificate of Approval from the Production Code Administration before it was allowed to be released. The Good Fairy would suffer from these new rules, just months after they began to be enforced.
The bane of every director’s existence at the time, the Hays code required the script to be submitted prior to filming. But with schedules in place, Director William Wyler started filming anyway. Only to learn that lines needed to be changed, the “facts of life” scene re-done, and the way the “seduction” scene of Luisa handled differently. With filming in production from September-December 1934, he would somehow make these changes, and release it in Hollywood on January 31, 1935. But not at a cost. As Preston Sturges wrote the changes, sometimes just a day ahead of filming, Wyler would be made to come up with a filming plan in the moment. In the end, both Sturges and Wyler were removed from the Universal Studio payroll. More interesting still, was that even through days of arguments between Wyler and Sullavan, with his starlet walking off set more than once, the pair would somehow make time to elope on November 25, 1934, in the midst of it all.
One of the earliest films to be held to the code, you can almost taste the saccharine aftertaste of the changes. Luckily, Sturges and Wyler are adept at handling the innocent, and complex. And The Good Fairy gives you both.
Luisa Ginglebusher ( Margaret Sullavan) is fresh out of the orphanage, as a young woman ready to make her way in the wondrous world beyond. A world she’s only ever heard about through fairytales. As such, she gets a job by kismet at a movie theater, dishing out stories of life and love on an hourly basis. It is here that she almost gets wooed by an up-to-no-good-gentlemen (played by Cesar Romero), and then subsequently rescued by Detlaff ( Reginald Owen). As a waiter at a fancy hotel, he knows the ropes and will show her the way. With a pretty dress from the theater costume room in tow, she heads to the restaurant, only to beguile millionaire Konrad ( Frank Morgan) with her innocence and charm. Of course, Luisa isn’t ready for his advances or his hotel room, and comes up with a good lie; that she has a husband.
Of course, we know how this story goes for most women, but not Luisa. When it’s demanded that she show proof to Konrad of this “husband” she swears she has, Luisa cleverly grabs the phone book and produces a name; Dr. Max Sporum (Herbert Marshall), a humble and homely lawyer. Though she doesn’t know it, a better match Luisa couldn’t have chosen. Though now armed with this information, Konrad has plans to elevate Sporum with lots of money and a 5-year contract in South America. All in the hopes of getting him out of the picture, so that Konrad can have Luisa for himself.
As many of the critics of this film have noted, what ensues is a storyline with a bit of slapstick, though no less substance. For Luisa, her act as “The Good Fairy” is complete, she has saved Sporum from poverty. Only to find that granting wishes isn’t that easy. When she decides to come clean with Sporum about the trick to save herself from her seducer she gets caught up in his world of whimsy. Much like her own at the orphanage. He finds joy in the littlest of things, even amongst his squalor and she begins to see him as the hero she’s been looking for. She inquires what he would look like without a beard, so he shaves it, and they begin to see what their life would look like together. But of course, Konrad still has plans of his own. In the end, he too gets to be a “good fairy” by releasing his grasp on Luisa and letting her and Sporum be together.
A very sweet story in its own right, there are things in this film that I question. Most notably, the utter unbelievability of Frank Morgan as a seducer. While I’m sure this is the way the character is supposed to act, it’s terribly difficult to believe that in his bumbling across the hotel room to Luisa, she is truly in danger. And while the pencil sharpener scene with Sporum solidifies that our two main characters are essentially the same innocent dreamers, Luisa knows him not 15 minutes before questioning his choice to keep a beard. She’s not incapable of molding the world to the shape she desires. We see her do this the second she opens the phone book. What becomes difficult for me in this scene is that she believes herself capable of molding his. I don’t love this. Especially, as his sparse beard fuzz seems to bring him such joy! Metaphorically, she’s trying to get him to see himself as she would see him; young, handsome, clever. And in the end, perhaps he does. Whatever you take from this film, know that loads of lessons are learned and everyone gets a happy ending in classic Preston Sturges style.
As one of my more favorite films, The Good Fairy excels at painting a world of hope. While the remake, Deanna Durbin’s I’ll Be Yours ( 1947), didn’t have nearly the production drama as the original, I think we can all agree that Deanna’s ability to create “hope” was what kept people going to the movies and keeping Universal from bankruptcy. Deanna’s version of Louise Ginglebusher brings hope in droves.
Where Margaret’s version offers innocence and questioning, Deanna’s offers more curiosity and playfulness. Deanna has mentioned before how she believed her last four films to be her worst, and I’ll Be Yours is among them. I wholeheartedly disagree with her sentiment, even if I’ll Be Yours doesn’t make my re-watch list, it’s a great film with a feel-good message. Perhaps we’ll share an I’ll Be Yours Review on the blog soon. Until then, be sure to give The Good Fairy a watch and let us know what you think!
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