My next classic film, 1954’s Susan Slept Here is a blast, though with a premise that most definitely would not fly these days. This is the slightly absurd tale of how, on Christmas Eve, Dick Powell’s Hollywood screenwriter Mark takes in a rebellious 17-year-old runaway named Susan (Debbie Reynolds) in the hopes that this will help him write his next project - a film about juvenile delinquency. This leads to various gaffes before real romance blossoms between them. It’s presented as charming and hilarious but the age difference between them is so great I can’t help but think how icky the whole concept is.
Still, I tell you what - it’s still a thoroughly enjoyable little film once you get past the way jailbait Susan is constantly objectified. Reynolds is so damn spunky and likeable in the role you can’t help but just go with the whole thing, even if she’s too pleasant and doll-like to truly convince as a streetwise runaway.
In the sort of far-fetched set-up that could only really be cooked up by a Hollywood screenwriter, the film is, fittingly, narrated by a smart-alecky Oscar statuette that sits in Mark’s living room. ‘Oscar’ tells us he wanted to be the award for Best Supporting Actor, but got lumbered with Best Screenplay instead and now he’s stuck with Mark who, since his big win, has developed a nasty case of writer’s block. Unfeasibly, Mark gets a knock on the door on Christmas Eve night from a police officer buddy who’s arrested young offender Susan for vagrancy and assault. Not wanting to see her spend the holidays in the pen and aware of Mark’s writing project, the cop thinks he’s doing both Susan and Mark a huge favour by stashing her away at Mark’s apartment until her Boxing Day hearing.
Mark’s not into it but, hey, it’s Christmas, so he takes the girl in and after some initial disagreements and squabbles, the two start to get along. His long-suffering fiancee (Anne Francis) is less than impressed, especially when Susan develops an obvious crush on him. The film stays just the right side of uncomfortable, as we’re kept wondering if Mark’s going to take advantage of this flirty, vulnerable kid who just might let him.
In the most far-fetched twist, learning that Susan will likely be kept in juvie until she turns eighteen, Mark does the unthinkable and offers to marry her to keep her out of jail, promising to annul things after a few months. We’re left wondering how far they’ll run with this, leading to some unique situations I’ve never witnessed in a film before, like Mark taking Susan dancing all night after their quickie Vegas wedding in order to tucker her out so he won’t have to consummate things.
I’m not sure how they manage it, but it does slowly develop into an irresistible little love story with a surprise full-on, garish technicolour dance/dream sequence thrown in that comes completely out of nowhere. Things suddenly go very Singin’ in the Rain with Reynolds swinging around acrobatically in a big, sparkly birdcage - it’s so entertaining because it really catches me by surprise. The whole film is loaded with wonderful colours, costumes and set design, finding any excuse to get Reynolds into cute cowgirl outfits and such, and with her irresistible perkiness she is every inch the star of the show.
Starting out as a kooky Christmas comedy, the film morphs into something more daring and interesting, eventually doing a decent job of persuading the audience that these two are meant to be together. If you can ignore that the entire plot revolves around exploiting loopholes in age of consent laws, you’ll have a great time. Hats off to director Frank Tashlin for entertaining me while managing to totally mess with my head at the same time.
Today I watch this one while taking some sick leave from work. Lockdown has taken its toll a bit and I’m wondering if the pressure of trying to squeeze in a Christmas movie every day has really been helping. However, I feel like the fun and joy of watching these festive flicks has - mostly - genuinely helped keep me sane, especially the films of the ‘40s and ‘50s. Delving into the more obscure films of Christmases past has opened a door to some great , really well made feelgood tales that I never knew existed and that people don’t really talk about much anymore, but absolutely should. There’s so much quirky yuletide enjoyment to be had - films about juggling squirrels? Cross-generational love affairs? Sweetie-sucking conmen? Santa batting The Devil? These films remind me that cinema can be so much more than the cliched Christmas tosh that studios tend to churn out nowadays. Even if my brain may be struggling to cope with trying to complete this project on top of doing my day job, today I don’t regret a thing.
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