La bonne combine

This is an odd movie, as it concerns a very successful counterfeiter but not in a way you'd expect. In other words, while the guy printed horrible quality money, he managed to get away with it for a decade. Why? Because instead of printing higher denominations or trying to get rich, he was just an old guy who passed phony $1 bills here and there. Oddly, he never really had much desire to hurt anyone or become a big-time crook--just do it on odd occasions to make ends meet. And, because of this odd m.o., he managed to evade detection so long. And, what makes this even more interesting is that it's all based on a true story.

The film is told mostly from the viewpoint of a Secret Service agent--played by Burt Lancaster. He was an incredibly determined agent and worked hard to capture the crook (Edmund Gwenn). But, because Gwenn plays such a nice and seemingly harmless old guy, the case drug on and on and on--as no one suspected the cute old man.

The film is very well-made and although it's not a film noir picture, it has similarities. Mostly, it's reminiscent because the story is very straight-forward--though the sentimental musical score and sympathetic telling of the story is about as far from noir as you can get! Well made and interesting.

I was surprised how fun this film was given the plot. Dorothy McGuire is charming and as usual, Edmund Gwen steals the show.

Burt Lancaster was always one who took firm control of his career. He got out of the studio system very early in Hollywood and was always the one who called his own shots. I'm guessing that he probably owed someone a favor which is why he did Mister 880.

It's not that Mister 880 is a bad film, but it's most definitely not a Burt Lancaster project. Burt and leading lady Dorothy McGuire play a definite second fiddle to Edmund Gwenn as the whimsical old neighborhood character who does some counterfeiting on the side when he runs short of money.

The title stems from the number on his file with the United States Secret Service. Mister 880 isn't even that good a counterfeiter, but his case has been put on the agency back burner for years while they assign top priority to organized gangs of counterfeiters. Gwenn does his work on cheap office supply paper with a hand press. He even spells Washington wrong on the one dollar bills he prints. And he's been getting away with it for years because of the small denominations.

McGuire comes to Lancaster's attention as she gets stuck with one of Gwenn's phonies. He's the agent who the New York office finally decided to assign to the 880 case. Of course the usual romantic complications get in the way of the case, but not forever.

Edmund Gwenn is one of those delightful character actors you cannot help but like. His charm is infectious, never more so than when he won that Oscar for Miracle on 34th Street. His character of the Skipper is in the same vein as Kris Kringle in Miracle on 34th Street.

Who could not like Edmund Gwenn and therefore who could not like Mister 880.

Edmund Gwenn (best known as Santa Claus in "Miracle on 34th Street) portrays another charming old man who makes ends meet by a little counterfeiting on the side. Burt Lancaster is the treasury agent set to track down the mysterious "Mr. 880," as the Secret Service calls him, but who has time for a little romance. Gwenn, as usual, is delightful and Lancaster, at the beginning of his career, shows the softer side that became more apparent toward its end. The film is a forgotten gem.

I realize that 9 is an incredibly high rating, but I stand behind it. It's also high given that I was ready to bail after the first three minutes of this film-- blatant pro-Secret Service propaganda, complete with a stentorian voice-over. But then the characters show up: Burt Lancaster at his most charming, Edmund Gwenn doing his peerless benevolent eccentric, and a positively luminous Dorothy McGuire, exuding intelligence, wit, and gutsiness.

The title comes from the case file number (880) of a real-life counterfeiter—Emerich Juettner, ,a.k.a. Edward Mueller. The feds gained such respect that they called him Mr. 880—and his story deserves a film. Mueller (called "Skipper" and played by Gwenn) did indeed live in New York as a small-time counterfeiter who, amazingly, was as incompetent at etching a passable $1 bill ("George Wahsington") as he was competent at passing his queer money without detection for 10 years (1938-48).

The addition of Lancaster's and McGuire's roles is pure poetic license, but their duo only enhances the story because of the clever interlocking structure of the plot, and the often crackling dialog between them and with others, notably the wry and dry Millard Mitchell.

The hackneyed old phrase applies—I laughed (or at least smiled frequently), I cried (got teary-eyed once or twice), I got caught up in it. The point at which Burt and the feds are closing in on the dear old paperhanger, and McGuire is in a moral quandary about whether to help them or protect him, is so well done that it generated the same quandary in me—what would I have done?? It's a question I couldn't answer, and one that increased the tension that built to the courtroom scene and denouement.

"Mister 880" needs to be seen, right through to the end, which I won't spoil. But I will add a marvelous coda: Ultimately, the real Mr. 880, Juettner, made more money from this film than he did from a decade of counterfeiting—though of course, if he hadn't counterfeited there wouldn't have been a movie to profit from. So we get both poetic license and poetic justice.