Christmas in Connecticut (1945)

Dir.: Peter Godfrey
Plot: A single, city-dwelling journalist is forced to fake the rural domestic bliss she writes about in her lucrative column when her editor and a war veteran invite themselves to her home for Christmas.

Christmas in Connecticut has an excellent premise. Babs Stanwyck plays a Elizabeth Lane, a newspaper columnist famous for her slice-of-life features focussed around her beautiful home, delicious home-cooked food and charming husband and baby. In reality, however, she is a single city gal who lounges around her bohemian apartment whilst her obliging Hungarian neighbour (S.Z Sakall, of whom more later) dreams up the recipes which win her such renown. When a recovering war hero (Dennis Morgan) appeals to the newspaper's editor (Sidmey Greenstreet) for a perfect Christmas holiday with Elizabeth and her family in their country house, things threaten to go off the boil. Enlisting a besotted neighbour (Reginald Gardiner) for help, she sets about creating the grand illusion her columns have painted, but things turn awkward when she starts to fall for the handsome veteran.



At this point, let me say that I have never really cared much for S.Z Sakall. Jimmy Cagney didn't like him, and I tend to take his word on most things. Apart from when he spoke glowingly of Stalin that time, but to be fair that was in the 1930s... Anyway, here "Cuddles" actually keeps things moving pretty nicely, his character being a fairly effective plot device. His avuncular meddling keeps the action ticking and helps justify the increasingly elaborate webs of confusion which arise as Elizabeth seeks to maintain her great deception in the face of the inevitable complications the plot throws her way. Stanwyck is as pleasant to watch as ever, of course, handling each zany plot twist with aplomb, and Dennis Morgan is just about adequate to her talents. His scenes with Elizabeth's baby (borrowed, naturally. Wacky hi-jinks have well and truly ensued by this point.) are some of the film's best, completely natural and charming - to the extent that they come close to feeling out of place in such a silly, lightweight bit of seasonal fluff. And to top it all off, the film looks delectable, set amongst the kinds of snowy country idyll that only a 1940s studio and scads of Hollywood dough could ever create.

So what is the problem with Christmas in Connecticut, then? To put it simply, it never quite lives up to its premise. The comedic marks are signalled generously in advance and then dutifully knocked down, but somehow the whole proceeding lacks a spark. As I said before, the premise is highly promising, but you almost get the feeling that the writers realised this themselves and struggled to come up with the follow-through to do it justice. Instead, the film wanders between various wacky scenarios with no strong sense of itself - most of the film’s scenes could be inserted into any screwball comedy. Think of any really top-drawer example of the genre and there are particular set-pieces which are indelibly associated with that film - the prison scene in Bringing Up Baby, Irene Dunne's white trash act in The Awful Truth, hiding Earl Williams in His Girl Friday. Unlike these, Christmas in Connecticut never quite fully assumes a personality of its own. There aren't many clunkers, but neither is any one scene outstandingly memorable. The various plot threads aren't juggled with the swift, interweaving brilliance of the best screwball comedies, and the jokes don't come quite fast enough to compete either.

That isn't to say it's a bad film. Not at all. Stanwyck and Morgan do a decent job and have a sufficient amount of chemistry - not the kind she had with Gary Cooper, but enough to get things done. It's just with a lead like Stanwyck and a premise this juicy, you could be forgiven for expecting more. Enjoy it as the lightweight Christmas treat, it was intended to be - just don't expect a revelation.

7/10