The Good Fairy (1935)
“Never let it be said that a Sporum ever refused the request of a Ginglebusher.”
Before Preston Sturges became the greatest comedy director in the history of Hollywood (my own personal opinion), he was a popular playwright turned in-demand screenwriter. No one wrote wittier dialogue or concocted more screwball situations than Sturges; and he eventually came to realize that he could best protect his prose by helming his films himself. This month, Kino Lorber Studio Classics gives us a high definition look at Sturges’ career transition with the Blu-ray releases of The Good Fairy (1935), one of his early screenplays, and The Great McGinty (1940), his directorial debut. The Great McGinty has long been a favorite of mine (and I will post a separate review soon), but I was taking my first look at The Good Fairy. As a Sturges super-fan, that initial watch was like entering a foreign country yet finding that many of the road markers seem strangely familiar.
First of all, The Good Fairy is not pure Preston Sturges. It was a studio assignment, in which he was asked to adapt an existing Hungarian stage play for director William Wyler. However, Sturges’ spirit can be felt in the finished product (often strongly so), because he made significant changes to the story, partly to bring the narrative in tune with his own sensibilities, but also to skirt around salacious material that wouldn’t pass the censors. He also worked closely with the director throughout the production, mostly due to the fact that they began shooting without a completed script.
With Sturges adapting Ferenc Molnár’s text, the main character, Lu, a knowing woman with multiple romantic interests, became Luisa Ginglebusher (Margaret Sullavan), a naive orphan obsessed with fairy stories. Luisa exits the orphan asylum when a local theater owner (Alan Hale) selects her to become an usherette for his ornate movie palace. Unfortunately, once Luisa experiences life outside the orphanage, she finds herself hounded by lecherous men, despite the protective efforts of a waiter (Reginald “Admiral Boom” Owen) who takes an almost paternal interest in the girl. One of the leches who targets Luisa is Konrad (Frank “The Wizard” Morgan), a frequently befuddled meat-packing executive. Louisa pretends to be married to escape Konrad’s advances, but Konrad insists on improving her lot in life by showering her husband with riches. Realizing that she can act as a real “good fairy” to a random stranger, Luisa chooses the name of Dr. Sporum (Herbert Marshall), an impoverished lawyer, from the phone book, and offers him up as her husband. Konrad makes good on his offer, hiring Dr. Sporum in hopes of getting him out of the way. However, Konrad’s benevolence to the fake husband doesn’t do him any good, as Luisa finds herself falling for the unequivocally honest Dr. Sporum (Herbert Marshall).
The Good Fairy is a lovely romantic comedy, and taken on its own terms, it’s an absolute delight. The movie only suffers when compared to Preston Sturges’ later, self-directed works (which are among the greatest comedies ever made).
In many ways, The Good Fairy feels like the work of a writer tentatively developing his voice. Many of the signature Sturges touches are there, but they express themselves in fits and starts, within a more conventional romantic comedy framework. The story involves eccentric situations and misunderstandings, but it isn’t as aggressively daffy as a Sturges-directed feature. Sturges’ tendency to showcase scene-stealing character actors is also in evidence, but it is used as a spice, rather than the foundation of the soup. Still, there are individual scenes and moments that feel almost like they were directed by Sturges himself. My personal favorite is set within the auditorium of the movie theater where Luisa works. Director Wyler inter-cuts scenes playing out on the movie screen with the reactions (or the indifference) of multiple members of the audience, so that it appears that the audience is interacting directly with the characters being projected. The action ping-pongs back and forth between audience and film-within-a-film upon single syllables uttered by the participants. It’s hard to describe, but, trust me, the effect is very funny.
William Wyler was a great director, but I tend to associate him more with drama (Wuthering Heights, The Best Years of Our Lives, Ben-Hur, etc.) than comedy. In The Good Fairy, he displays a surprisingly light, deft touch with the material. I was impressed throughout the film how well the scenes were staged to elicit the best comic effect. It should be noted that Sturges never bad-mouthed Wyler, as he did some of the other directors who adapted his screenplays.
Margaret Sullavan is an actress that never really appealed to me, so that was a small hurdle that I had to get past; and Reginald Owen has a tendency to shout all of his dialogue, as if he is slightly deaf. However, the rest of the cast puts just the right spin on Sturges’ dialogue. Alan Hale, Beulah Bondi, Eric Blore, and Luis Alberni wring comic gold from their limited screen time, and Frank Morgan does sputtering bewilderment better than anybody. However, I was most impressed with Herbert Marshall, who gets to play a more ridiculous version of his suave leading man role. His giddy enthusiasm at his sudden windfall is hilarious, especially his rapturous outburst, “I’m going to buy a pencil sharpener, with a handle… and different sized holes! At last!”
The Good Fairy represent Sturges’ screwball style in embryonic form. Still, there are many delights to be found in this early romantic comedy gem.
USA/B&W-97m./Dir: William Wyler/Wr: Preston Sturges (based on the play by Ferenc Molnár)/Cast: Margaret Sullavan, Herbert Marshall, Frank Morgan, Reginald Owen, Eric Blore, Beulah Bondi, Alan Hale, Cesar Romero, Luis Alberni, June Clayworth
For Fans of: If you love Preston Sturges’ self-directed films or just love screwball romantic comedies from the classic studio era, you’ll probably greatly enjoy The Good Fairy.
Video: Kino Lorber Studio Classics released a Blu-ray of The Good Fairy, sourced from a new 4K scan, and it looks absolutely beautiful. It is sharp, clear, and displays natural film grain. Due to the age of the picture, there are a few random scratches, but the film has been carefully cleaned up, without major scrubbing that would remove any detail from the image. In short it is a silvery, shimmering beauty. The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono sound is also quite clear, without age-related hiss.
Special Features include:
- A new audio commentary by film critic and author Simon Abrams
- The original theatrical trailer for The Good Fairy, as well as bonus trailers for The Great McGinty (1940), Christmas in July (1940), The Children’s Hour (1961), The Big Country (1958), Murder! (1930), and Gog (1954).
Streaming: At the time of this review, The Good Fairy was unavailable to stream on any of the major subscription services. It was also unavailable to download as a digital rental or purchase.
More to Explore: This month, Kino Lorber Studio Classics has also released Preston Sturges’ directorial debut, The Great McGinty (1940), which I consider an essential purchase. If you want to check out a few of the other films written by Sturges prior to his promotion to director, I would recommend Easy Living (1937) and Remember the Night (1940).
Trivia: Apparently, Margaret Sullavan was a terror on set, behaving as a petulant diva. Co-stars said that she intentionally smeared her makeup or soiled her costume when she felt that she had worked enough for the day. However, in order to get a better performance from his temperamental star, director Wyler humored Sullivan (and found himself married to her before the shoot was complete).
For More Info: The biographies Christmas in July: The Life and Art of Preston Sturges by Diane Jacobs and A Talent for Trouble: The Life of Hollywood’s Most Acclaimed Director, William Wyler will give you the background on the talent behind The Good Fairy.