The Feminine Touch

Any old film aficionado would be drawn to a film starring Rosalind Russell, Don Ameche, Van Heflin and Kay Francis, so it's no surprise that this poster tuned into "The Feminine Touch," a 1941 comedy. The story concerns a college professor, John Hathaway (Ameche) who has written a very intellectual book on jealousy and travels with his wife (Russell) to meet his publisher Elliot (Heflin) and editor Nellie (Francis). Elliot likes to play around, and Nellie is in love with him. Julie keeps trying to make her husband jealous, not by deed but by hints that a certain man likes her, for instance, and is he worried - thinking that a jealous outburst would be proof of his love. However, he trusts her unreservedly and never suspects her of anything. He's especially sure that despite Elliot's interest in her, Julie would never reciprocate - because Elliot has a beard, and Julie hates them.

This film is a case of too many cooks, as this screenplay was worked over by several writers. The premise is flimsy, for starters, and I fear Russell is miscast. Rosalind Russell in films is a beautiful woman, but she has a strength and intelligence about her as well. It's not an ingénue beauty. In the world of "The Feminine Touch," despite her tailored suits, every man who meets her falls madly in love with her. I could have bought it if it had been Lana Turner. I'm not buying it here. Women like Russell are the "whole package" and men fall for her in a different way and probably after a conversation or two - not on sight. And then, to have a smart woman like Julie upset because her husband never gets jealous is ridiculous. It might bother an immature 18-year-old, but this character? The end of the film -- which comes about 15 minutes later than it should have - is the best part, as it turns into a more screwball comedy with Julie setting fire to Elliot's beard and other crazy things happening. Otherwise, the film drags on with too much dialogue. I'm not opposed to dialogue - All About Eve has a large amount of dialogue. This dialogue was superfluous, probably because a scene or two could have been tossed.

Heflin proves himself as adept at comedy as he is at drama, Francis is delightful, as is Ameche, who makes a good professorial type. Someone mentioned the clothing - Francis wears one hat that looks like a rendition of the Mickey Mouse Club ears, except with taller ears and the entire hat covered in fur. It was one of the funniest things in the movie.

Charming goof-ball comedy played by experts. Roz, looking great, is sassy and fun one of the greatest at the slow burn ever. She comes across as a bit addle-pated at times but she also has an enormous amount of patience with her husband, a good but not very sensitive man.

This was Kay Francis' last part in an A level film and a shame since she is both humorous and chic. Her slide into low grade junk and obscurity within a few years of this is an example of the way Hollywood wastes talented performers once they are no longer as big at the box office. Since this is an MGM film and she made a good showing in the picture it's surprising they didn't take her on. Her brand of sophistication seems right up their alley and even if no longer a leading lady she could have done well in support.

Ameche's character as I said is a rather clueless blow-hard but his natural charm makes him less irksome than he would normally be. Heflin, fresh off his Oscar for Johnny Eager, is well cast as a would be gigolo who thinks he is more suave and irresistible than he in fact is.

Overall a bit dated in it's attitudes, unsurprisingly, but the four stars make it worth watching.

Rambling and over-long comedy about a married couple (Rosalind Russell, Don Ameche) who argue over the idea of jealousy in marriage. He's a college professor who has written a dull book without having a clue what real jealousy is; she's the little wifey who secretly pines for a caveman type. They get involved with an unmarried publisher and his editor (Van Heflin, Kay Francis) who throw a monkey wrench into the marriage. It seems he's too flighty and she wants his full attention. Everything comes to a head when Heflin runs off to his island in the Adirondacks, only to be followed by Russell and then by Ameche and Francis. There, the men duke it out and the gals get down to a cat fight. Of course this silliness settles everything and both couples end up happy.

Sometimes way too talky and at other times just plain silly, but it's all quite watchable thanks to the four stars. The slapstick fight between Ameche and Heflin is the low point. But there's a dream sequence a la Salvador Dali that is quite funny.

Others in the cast include Donald Meek, Sidney Blackmer, Cecil Cunningham, Grant Mitchell, Gordon Jones, Anne O'Neal, Bernard Nedell, Henry Daniell, Julie Gibson as the singer (no, it's not Peggy Lee), and Robert Ryan as an extra playing a cop.

Rosalind Russell and Kay Francis come off best ... no surprise.

Don Ameche plays a very cerebral professor who avoids dealing with his wife (Rosalind Russell) by over-intellectualizing their relationship. While she does love him, his refusal to act like a human being irritates her to no end--especially when he never shows an ounce of jealousy, no matter what she does. Even when Rosalind spends time with her husband's publisher, the lecherous Van Heflin, Ameche refuses to act jealous and he takes his marriage for granted. At first, I found Russell's demands for jealousy to be petty, but after a while I wondered how any woman could live with the cold and annoying Ameche. Only later in the film when Ameche loosened up and showed his wife that he cared was everyone able to live happily ever after.

This is a little comedy from MGM that tries very hard to entertain and generally does, though at times the humor does seem a tad forced. However, despite this and the shallowness of the script, the actors are fun to watch and the film has a certain kooky charm that make it a nice, though not especially deep, time-passer. Worth a look, but that's really about all.

Strange, strange, strange. This does not feel anything like a typical Hollywood movie from 1941. At times, it feels almost like a proto-Woody Allen film, talky and intellectual and neutotic in a very Woody-like sort of way. And then there were a couple of moments when I thought of 60s-style European auteur cinema, especially Fellini. And then there are moments of standard Hollywood-style screwball comedy. And then there was that utterly bizarre and hilarious dream sequence with the Dali-esque set design--I was reminded of that dream sequence from Hitchcock's Spellbound.

Three different writers are credited with the screenplay, and inconsistency in writing styles seems glaringly apparent as the film plays out. Subtle and witty at times, the writing becomes painfully clumsy and forced at others, especially when it goes for a broader style of comedy or when it tries to advance the plot.

I don't know the story behind the making of this film, but it feels very tampered-with, like maybe it started with a clever and original screenplay, but the studio execs didn't trust it and so they hired a couple of hack writers to come in and dumb it down for the masses. It feels like it ALMOST could have been something of a classic. It's still very worth watching, though. The storyline is interesting and, in a way, seems about 30 years ahead of its time. I'd be particularly interested to hear a feminist scholar's take on the film.

Do women really prefer a caveman to an intellectual, a protector to a partner? Despite the feminist movement, it still seems to hold true. Perhaps I should grow a beard.