Um Anjo Caiu do Céu

Another movie I only discovered a few years ago which I decided to add to this Christmas' rewatching. This is a great script which reminds us to reassess what is most important in life. Cary Grant may seem a strange choice for an angel and a formidable challenge to David Niven's leading man status but the tension works and the finish raises the whole story to a different level. A shout out to the creative vision of Samuel Goldwyn. Great performances, great chemistry, great storytelling. It's not surprising I would rate this an 8 (great) out of 10. {Christmas Fantasy Drama}

This is a classic. Several years ago I got weary of waiting for it to be shown on TV (to offer some relief from the non-stop "It's a Wonderful Life"), so bought my own copy. Now, every year, I sit down before Christmas and enjoy, enjoy, enjoy. It gets better with every viewing. All the performances are excellent - even the dog. Highly recommend it.

Silver-screen glamor oozes from this vestigially cloying but devilishly feel-good Hollywood fable about an angel, descending from heaven in the physical form of Cary Grant, is assigned by the Almighty to answer the prayer of an Episcopal bishop Henry Brougham (Niven), who is preoccupied with his imminent fund-raising of a cathedral which puts a strain on his family life.

The angel Dudley, a choir-conducting, ice-skating, harp-thrumming omnipotent being, comes clean with a dubious Henry of his mission and poses as his new assistant, squires Henry's neglected wife Julia (Young) to recollect her fondest memory, charms the entire household including the high-pitched housekeeper Matilda (Lanchester), Henry's prim secretary Mildred (Haden), and the Brougham's small daughter Debby (Grimes), also, convinces an atheist professor Wutheridge (Woolley) to finally knuckle down to write the history book he has been stalling ever since. Eventually, Dudley's mission is not to build a cathedral, the fund can be wisely disbursed to a more exigent need of its time, but to set Henry's derailed life back on track, right before the advert of Christmas.

But there is a hitch, predictably, Dudley develops a feeling for Julia, which raises the tension between him and Henry, who runs away with jealousy (no sagacious scribe to inject him with any scintilla of trust in his devoted wife), and it is all up to a virtuous Julia to pull the plug with a lachrymose face to adumbrate that Dudley's feeling is not unrequited, but bound by a wife's duty, however tempted, it is too sacrosanct for her to shuck that off, a moral lesson inculcated with a beguiling pretense of cinematic illusion.

While the three leads are deftly treading their designated paths with admirable expertise: Grant is particularly jaunty in Dudley's backhanded magickal tricks with an understated poker-face, Young radiates incredible bonhomie and saintliness and Niven, taking everything with a pinch of salt, perfectly offsets Grant's exuding charisma in his own sizzling pique, it is the witty special effects that mostly, gives the movie an endearing quality that weathers with the age and shifting ethos, a self-typing typewriter, a self-replenishing bottle of sherry and a fully-bedecked Christmas tree, it is indeed, small wonders that save the day in Henry Koster's vintage heart-warmer ensconced as a go-to holiday classic with wholesome contentment.

What a pleasure to revisit this Henry Koster little gem. Everything works in the most unexpected way. The mystic magic of the story is utterly contagious. The unexpected musical number on ice skates by Cary Grant, Loretta Young and James Gleason made me want to see it again straight away and thanks to the new technologies I was able to do it on the spot. There was a remake of this movie a few years ago, remember? No, probably not. Denzel Washington in the Cary Grant part and Whitney Huston in Loretta Young's. To see both films back to back should be a masterclass in film anthropology that proves without a doubt that with the passing of time we have lost something invaluable. I don't know what it is. Maybe there isn't a word for it yet. What I would love to share with all of you is the joy that "The Bishop's Wife" borough to me. Even Gladys Cooper's upper class monster has a moment of exquisite redemption. Not to be missed.

Reverend Henry Brougham (David Niven) is working very hard to get his cathedral built--in fact, he's so busy speaking to wealthy clients and attending business meetings that he forgets that the one thing he needs most in this world is his wife Julia (Loretta Young) and their daughter Debbie. As Julia feels increasingly hurt at Henry's neglect, who should swoop in but the mysterious, charming Dudley (Cary Grant), telling Henry he's an angel who's there to answer Henry's prayer. Henry can't quite believe this even as Dudley seems to make himself quite at home in Henry's life, charming the wife, the child, the maids... even the taxi driver Sylvester (James Gleason). It's all a bit too much for Henry when Dudley finally brings the cathedral's biggest patron Mrs Hamilton (Gladys Cooper) around to the idea of donating the money to the homeless instead of to the cathedral. Is there anything left of Henry's life that he can salvage? And can he really compete against an angel who has God and little miracles on his side?

THE BISHOP'S WIFE is a sweet little romantic dramedy, perfect for a Christmas night curled up before the TV set. You have to give it credit for packing in a lot more story and real, human characters than you'd expect--it's not stock Christmas heart-tugging schmokum (did I just make up a word?), but a story that's quite genuinely intelligent and real. It's not perfect (what is?), but its presentation of the characters, especially Dudley and Henry, ring true. You can believe that Henry, underneath his bitterness and myopia, really loves his wife. He's just... forgotten his direction in life, is all. Niven does an excellent job with the character, keeping him just this side of prim but making him sympathetic especially when he asks Dudley to put up his fists for Julia.

My favourite secondary characters are Sylvester, played impeccably by Gleason, and the slightly dotty Professor Wutheridge (Monty Woolley). They're actually real *people*. Actually, they even fare better than Julia herself, whom I didn't particularly warm to. I wasn't annoyed by her, but nor did I feel that it was very likely she could get a reverend and an angel to almost come to blows over her. It's a shame that Loretta Young spent most of the film looking pensive, and even in her character's moments of joy--say the ice-skating scene--she simply fails to leap off the screen and run away with the audience's hearts.

Cary Grant has no such problem, however. From the moment he strolls onscreen as Dudley--the guardian angel every girl wished she could have--he has everyone's attention. He makes Dudley just a little bit roguish, a little bit dark. You couldn't really take Grant seriously if he's all decked out in an angel's costume, halo and harp and all, but you *can* imagine him as a sort of very human kind of angel. Which is exactly what Dudley is. It's mostly the smaller moments Grant sneaks into the film and his own performance that make THE BISHOP'S WIFE compelling viewing, and if you came to this film as a Grant fan, you certainly won't leave it disappointed.

All in all, the final film is well-drawn-together, cleverly written and directed, and benefiting from its two powerhouse male leads... Niven cleverly underplaying his part, and Grant suffusing Dudley with the charm and deep, hidden vulnerability he can suggest in all his characters without so much as faking a pained expression. It's definitely a great way to spend a Christmas night, and perhaps any other night. 8/10.