Claudette Colbert's first film as a free-lance artist. She declined to renew her Paramount contract, stating that she wanted to have the freedom to choose her own roles at whatever studios were prepared to pay her price — $150,000 per picture. "I have worked hard to attain both economic and artistic freedom. Now I am going to do what I wish."
What Claudette didn't say was that a lot of her dissatisfaction with Paramount arose not from the studio's choice of her films, but from the way they were possibly to be photographed.
Like Marlene Dietrich, Claudette Colbert was a fanatic on lighting and camera angles. Unfortunately, whereas Marlene had an expert knowledge of cinematography, Claudette had not. But she knew what she liked, and what she did not. She insisted — despite evidence to the contrary — that the left side of her face photographed more attractively than her right. Thus she would never allow herself to be photographed in any other direction but facing left. You think I'm kidding? I have William K. Everson's book on Claudette in my hands right now. In every single one of the 58 photos reproduced from pages 74 through 144, Colbert is facing or looking left. In all but six of these photos, she stands or sits at the extreme right hand side of the picture. We have to go right back to 1934 where "It Happened One Night" to find a still of Claudette facing slightly to the right.
Colbert felt that if she stayed at Paramount, her turn in front of Seitz's camera was bound to arrive sooner or later. And Seitz was not a photographer who would take "suggestions" from anybody - not even the producer or the director, let alone a member of the cast! Claudette was unwilling to face this confrontation. Who will blame her? This gave her yet another reason not to sign again with her former employer, but to free-lance.
For her first independent vehicle, she chose to go with the sort of role at which she was especially adept: — the loving girl who is forced to act out a phony part in order to attract or keep the man she really loves. Light, romantic, fluffy stuff in which a series of misunderstandings and complications are winsomely spun out for eighty minutes or so and then majestically resolved in five or ten.
To keep herself the center of attention, the heroine of this airily elegant romance — these stories always take place in the most opulent surroundings — needs at least two leading men, plus a chorus of disapproving elders. Don Ameche, a little inclined to over-do the double takes and facial mugging, provides one corner of the triangle, whilst Dick Foran (here rather oddly billed as "Richard Foran" instead of the more familiar "Dick") holds up the other most ingratiatingly. The disapprovers include such masterful cameo players as Grant Mitchell, Charles Dingle, Edward Gargan and Chester Clute — the last in one of the funniest roles of his career as an inquisitive shoe salesman. Director Sam Wood keeps the mixture of bedroom farce, light romance and comic cut-ups frothing merrily and stylishly.
What Claudette didn't say was that a lot of her dissatisfaction with Paramount arose not from the studio's choice of her films, but from the way they were possibly to be photographed.
Like Marlene Dietrich, Claudette Colbert was a fanatic on lighting and camera angles. Unfortunately, whereas Marlene had an expert knowledge of cinematography, Claudette had not. But she knew what she liked, and what she did not. She insisted — despite evidence to the contrary — that the left side of her face photographed more attractively than her right. Thus she would never allow herself to be photographed in any other direction but facing left. You think I'm kidding? I have William K. Everson's book on Claudette in my hands right now. In every single one of the 58 photos reproduced from pages 74 through 144, Colbert is facing or looking left. In all but six of these photos, she stands or sits at the extreme right hand side of the picture. We have to go right back to 1934 where "It Happened One Night" to find a still of Claudette facing slightly to the right.
Colbert felt that if she stayed at Paramount, her turn in front of Seitz's camera was bound to arrive sooner or later. And Seitz was not a photographer who would take "suggestions" from anybody - not even the producer or the director, let alone a member of the cast! Claudette was unwilling to face this confrontation. Who will blame her? This gave her yet another reason not to sign again with her former employer, but to free-lance.
For her first independent vehicle, she chose to go with the sort of role at which she was especially adept: — the loving girl who is forced to act out a phony part in order to attract or keep the man she really loves. Light, romantic, fluffy stuff in which a series of misunderstandings and complications are winsomely spun out for eighty minutes or so and then majestically resolved in five or ten.
To keep herself the center of attention, the heroine of this airily elegant romance — these stories always take place in the most opulent surroundings — needs at least two leading men, plus a chorus of disapproving elders. Don Ameche, a little inclined to over-do the double takes and facial mugging, provides one corner of the triangle, whilst Dick Foran (here rather oddly billed as "Richard Foran" instead of the more familiar "Dick") holds up the other most ingratiatingly. The disapprovers include such masterful cameo players as Grant Mitchell, Charles Dingle, Edward Gargan and Chester Clute — the last in one of the funniest roles of his career as an inquisitive shoe salesman. Director Sam Wood keeps the mixture of bedroom farce, light romance and comic cut-ups frothing merrily and stylishly.