The screwball comedy had been around for quite a while in one form or another when "My Man Godfrey" and "Libeled Lady" exploded on the screen in 1936 to push the genre forward. Comic scandals concerning the rich and infamous dominated the plots of these movies where zany society got slapped down a bit. Carole Lombard and Jean Harlow quickly became the prototype heroine for the off-kilter usually blonde bombshells who got taken down a peg or two as they dealt with a no-nonsense handsome hero who was funny in spite of their alleged serious natures. In this case, the blonde heroine is that early 1930's drama queen Miriam Hopkins, playing a snooty socialite aghast that her late sisters' children are being raised by a seemingly do-nothing Greenwich Village artist (Ray Milland). To discredit him, she moves into the same building, and finds out all sorts of ammunition in order to help her father (Henry Stephenson) win custody of them.
Hopkins proves herself to be an able comic, especially when she finds her small apartment being invaded as she tries to take a bath. More and more people begin to barge into the one room apartment, and before you can say "A Night at the Opera", she finds herself surrounded. This is a Greenwich Village which sadly no longer exists (except perhaps in revivals of "Wonderful Town" and "Auntie Mame") and where else but mid 30's downtown would you find young children who knew how to take care of a drunk without any supervision? Everything is fine up to this point and it appears that Hopkins is lightening up her feelings towards Milland, even pretending to be trashy when old society friends recognize her in an Italian restaurant while slumming. But when the kids all of a sudden are taken away thanks to Hopkins' phone conversation with her father, she all of a sudden switches gears, claiming in court that Milland is totally unfit. This is done jarringly and without any clues as to why, and for the remainder of the film, she seems determined to be out to teach him a lesson yet make up to him for her betrayal.
Still entertaining in spite of this sudden jerky change, "Wise Girl" isn't up there with the classics of the screwball genre and Hopkins seems determined without total success to emulate the classy screwball sophistication of Lombard, Jean Arthur and especially Constance Bennett whom she often reminded me of. She does seem to work well here with the cast and it is a far cry of her attempts to outshine Bette Davis in their two later films together, making her performance a lot more relaxed and less forced. Milland is a great sparring partner, and Walter Abel and Henry Stephenson also offer good support. The kids get some good Groucho lickings in at Margaret Dumont in the court scene where she asks them some truly stupid questions in order to test their intelligence. The wise girl(s) may not be the screwball heroine, but the two nieces who were lucky enough to be taken away from the stuffy Stephenson.
Hopkins proves herself to be an able comic, especially when she finds her small apartment being invaded as she tries to take a bath. More and more people begin to barge into the one room apartment, and before you can say "A Night at the Opera", she finds herself surrounded. This is a Greenwich Village which sadly no longer exists (except perhaps in revivals of "Wonderful Town" and "Auntie Mame") and where else but mid 30's downtown would you find young children who knew how to take care of a drunk without any supervision? Everything is fine up to this point and it appears that Hopkins is lightening up her feelings towards Milland, even pretending to be trashy when old society friends recognize her in an Italian restaurant while slumming. But when the kids all of a sudden are taken away thanks to Hopkins' phone conversation with her father, she all of a sudden switches gears, claiming in court that Milland is totally unfit. This is done jarringly and without any clues as to why, and for the remainder of the film, she seems determined to be out to teach him a lesson yet make up to him for her betrayal.
Still entertaining in spite of this sudden jerky change, "Wise Girl" isn't up there with the classics of the screwball genre and Hopkins seems determined without total success to emulate the classy screwball sophistication of Lombard, Jean Arthur and especially Constance Bennett whom she often reminded me of. She does seem to work well here with the cast and it is a far cry of her attempts to outshine Bette Davis in their two later films together, making her performance a lot more relaxed and less forced. Milland is a great sparring partner, and Walter Abel and Henry Stephenson also offer good support. The kids get some good Groucho lickings in at Margaret Dumont in the court scene where she asks them some truly stupid questions in order to test their intelligence. The wise girl(s) may not be the screwball heroine, but the two nieces who were lucky enough to be taken away from the stuffy Stephenson.