I find myself reserving certain films for future viewings when I love a star. Sometimes–as with Barbara Stanwyck–I try to watch her lesser films, putting off a great one so at least one is still waiting in reserve for me, like some wonderful present under the tree.
So I didn’t go into My Reputation (1946) with any illusions that it would be a masterpiece, but I thought I could enjoy a little Stanwyck magic. Alas, I neglected to look up her costar: George Brent, who somehow manages to be even duller and less charismatic onscreen than Herbert Marshall. Was his lethargy enough to destroy her energy? The answer: Yes. And no.
The premise is a simple one: Jessica Drummond (Stanwyck) has lost her husband after a long illness, and an attraction to army major Scott Landis (Brent) revives her spirit, but harms her reputation as a chaste, loyal widow.
You see the problem already, don’t you? Some serious miscasting is going on here. I can buy Brent as a restful, chill companion after say, a bad marriage to a philandering playboy. But Brent AS a playboy? Who REVIVES her? Ummmm. Exactly how old was her husband?
I don’t think I’m alone in finding Brent a sleep aid, and his looks don’t even provide eye candy that can dispel that impression. After a while, I simply stopped the film in boredom. Had anyone said, “That guy? Maybe you need some Vivarin, lady,” I would have been fine with Jessica’s choice of Landis, but it seems everyone in the film (even Eve Arden!) thinks he’s the dapper, fun lady’s man Brent may have been in real life, but sure wasn’t onscreen.
So….In his scenes with her? I’m falling asleep. And unlike in Baby Face (in which he’s slightly more tolerable), he’s on the screen a lot. Only when Jessica first enters his apartment; her every gesture displaying her discomfort, reserve, fearfulness, and lingering prudery; does Stanwyck command the screen enough to blot Brent’s presence out.
BUT when Brent’s not around, there’s interesting stuff going on, and Stanwyck nails it. Jessica’s boys’ anger at her replacing their dad is visceral.
The whole time you’ve been sympathizing with Jessica for wanting to get her groove on, as gossips and prudes (including her mother) tsk tsk at her. But then you realize that she’s told these boys nothing, has just invited Landis over for Christmas Eve, gone to fights with him, taken off on trips that last till the wee hours with him (apparently leaving the kids with the housekeeper), without so much as an “I’ll always love your dad” talk. True, it’s a different era, but a wee bit of explanation was required here, and never given. Jessica’s slow-burn realization of her screw-up is almost as riveting to watch as her takedown of a gossip queen earlier.
Most of the strong scenes, unfortunately, don’t even show up till about 30 minutes are left in the film. Way too much time is spent establishing Jessica’s already obvious infatuation, and giving her love the bedroom eyes. I’d suggest skipping around, enjoying some striking Stanwyck outfits, beautifully rendered lines, and wonderful chemistry with everyone but her leading man.
I can understand George Brent, but Herbert Marshall?
Each to his own, I guess 🙂
I like your take, though. Might have to give this a shot.
Yes, Herbert Marshall is worse!!
I liked him in Trouble in Paradise, but I can understand where you’re coming from.
Yes!! I admit, that’s an exception:)
I have never understood the appeal with George Brent. I liked him in Dark Victory, but he was an odd choice in The Great Lie. (Bette Davis and Mary Astor do battle over GEORGE BRENT?!)
I’m glad to know I’m not alone.
I’ve always wanted to see that film, but you’re right. George Brent is an even a worse choice for that film! Not appealing in any way.
Barbara is riveting in everything she does. I’ve been infatuated with her for years. One of my fav earlier movies of hers is A Lost Lady, with a surprisingly successful role for Frank Morgan as her leading man. He’s perfect and quite romantic. Who knew? About Herbert Marshall – he always seems like he’s in a daze. The Little Foxes is a perfect example – the guy is in a daze the whole time. Little to no acting. And now we get to George Brent – he’s eye candy. He makes the leading ladies, like Bette and Barbara, look like they’ve wrangled an attractive man. Okay, great. Honestly, does he even really need to act? Take him in Dark Victory – which I think was his finest performance – but that was Bette’s film from start to finish. Not his. He’s window dressing, much like Robert Taylor, who can’t act his way out of a paper bag. Pretty boys, for sure – and I still like to see them. In their way, they were giants.
Thanks for the post!
I’ve never seen A Lost Lady! I’ll have to check it out. I love that description of Marshall as in a daze. You’re right that The Little Foxes is a perfect example of that trait. I’ve never found Brent attractive, but I get the Taylor thing. Some eye candy here and there is never a bad thing. Thanks for responding!