The Bishop’s Wife (1947)

For the first few years of blogging, I marked each Christmas with a review of a Christmas-themed film: The Shop Around the Corner, A Christmas Carol, Christmas in Connecticut, The Holly and the Ivy, and so on. Then, somewhere along the way, I fell out of the habit (I am, in some ways, not a creature of habit: I get bored too easily).

But this year, wondering what I should post next—after a slew of tributes—I decided that since Christmas was coming up, and there were several Christmas films I hadn’t yet watched, why not? Therefore, this: a film starring Cary Grant as an angel. Yes, you read that right. Cary Grant as an angel sent down on Earth at Christmastime to help out a beleaguered bishop.

The bishop in question is Henry Brougham (David Niven), a harried man because he’s trying to raise funds for the construction of a new cathedral. As the story progresses, we learn that Henry used to once be a kinder, gentler man, the sort of man who had time to go out for walks and meals with his wife Julia (Loretta Young), who could take time to visit his old parish and listen to the boys’ choir. A man less obsessed with the grandeur of a new cathedral…

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My Man Godfrey (1936)

And also, to some extent, My Man Godfrey (1957).

My Man Godfrey—the original one, starring William Powell—is one film that I’ve been meaning to watch for a long time now, mostly because so many people have told me what a lot of fun it is, and how it seems to have shades of PG Wodehouse in it (an author in whose pursuit I have watched several films, not always with the most satisfying of results).

It did seem to me, within the first few minutes of My Man Godfrey, that there were shades of a Wodehousian sense of humour here.

The film begins at a riverside dump, where a rather ragged, unshaven and tattered Godfrey (William Powell) is among several homeless men standing about when a fashionable high society lady, Cornelia Bullock (Gail Patrick) comes flouncing along, with a formally-dressed man in tow. Cornelia takes one look at Godfrey and tries to get him to come with her. She’s participating in a ‘scavenger hunt’ at a posh hotel, and the first person to bring along a ‘forgotten man’ to the hunt stands to win the prize.

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Wuthering Heights (1939)

Since I watched Dil Diya Dard Liya (the Hindi adaptation of Wuthering Heights), I decided it was about time I watched the 1939 film version of the book, too. I’ve seen several English-language adaptations of Emily Brontë’s dark classic (including some TV series), but had never got around to watching this one, which won an Oscar (Gregg Toland, for Best Cinematography, black and white) and received several Oscar nominations, including Best Actor (Laurence Olivier) and Best Supporting Actress (Geraldine Fitzgerald).

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The Dawn Patrol (1938)

Strangely—considering that Errol Flynn is best known for his swashbuckling roles—the film I most vividly remember of his is this one, an unusual war film. I first watched it years ago as a teenager, and ever since—in spite of having notched up The Prince and the Pauper, Captain Blood, The Adventures of Robin Hood and other blockbuster Flynn hits—this remains my favourite Errol Flynn film. Touching, thought-provoking, and utterly memorable.

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The Charge of the Light Brigade (1936)

Guts. Glory. Revenge. Honour. Two brothers in love with the same girl. A tale based on Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s classic poem of the Battle of Balaklava, The Charge of the Light Brigade. Errol Flynn. What more could one ask for?
Well, much better scripting, for one. More believable settings for another, and less melodrama. Flynn, master swashbuckler, delivers as always in this film, but other than that, there wasn’t enough to make it a memorable one for me. Into the trashcan ride these six hundred.

The charge of the 27th Lancers

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