THE TROUBLE WITH ANGELS: Blu-ray (Columbia, 1966) Sony Home Entertainment

A uniquely situated family film, shamelessly sentimental, but with many life lessons to teach, The Trouble with Angels (1966) is an oft’ jubilant, if seldom sugary, and, unexpectedly nuanced charmer of the ‘little gem’ class, principally for its superb performances by Rosalind Russell, Hayley Mills and June Harding (as Rachel Devery). Imbued with a spirit of commonality, gradually drawing the ne’er-do-well of this prepubescent troop (Mills’ Mary Clancy – a.k.a. Kim Novak) nearer to the hardcore and remarkably world-savvy Mother Superior (Russell, utterly magnificent as the outwardly stern, but inwardly genuine overseer of a Catholic ‘all-girl’ finishing school for young ladies) The Trouble with Angels is warm-hearted, unaffected and thoroughly satisfying ‘feel good’ family fare of the highest order. There are sincere flaws in Blanche Hanalis’ screenplay. With the exception of Roz Russell’s formidable headmaster, and, to a lesser degree, Marge Redmond’s ill-fated Sister Liguori, the rest of the nuns are white-washed as a sect of slightly dotty, out-of-touch administrators of the faith. And the outlook for the girls featured herein, apart from Mills and Harding, is as bleak; Barbara Hunter’s Marvel-Ann, the chronic and unwitting figure of fun, mercilessly made the brunt of Mary and Rachel’s pranks. Superior direction from Ida Lupino – yes, that Ida Lupino – and some colorful cinematography supplied by Lionel Lindon – yield the necessary distractions to make us forget about these shortcomings. In a span of barely 2 hrs., Lupino covers three full years of the trials and tribulations Mary and Rachel inflict upon St. Francis Academy, from skipping gym class and setting off the school’s ‘fire alarm’ by smoking in the boiler room, to charging admission to their peers to sneak into the nun’s private living quarters and spiking the sisters’ tea with soap bubbles.

For all its comedic flare, it is the poignant vignettes that linger longer in memory after the houselights have come up. Mother Superior’s organizing the girls to serve tea and cakes to the elderly at a nearby retirement home, listening to their various stories of hardship, rings painfully true and culminates with a decidedly shaken, though as ever stubborn Mary declaring she intends to die young and rich. Mother Superior’s retelling of Sister Ursula’s plight during the war, tortured by the Nazis for concealing Jewish children in the church, and, the sudden and unexpected death of Sister Ligouri – whose unlikely passion for horse-racing distinguished her from the rest, is tenderly revealed to Mary as the usually stoic Mother Superior unexpectedly breaks down and into tears near her casket. And Mary’s final revelation – that, despite all her troublesome meddling and worldly airs, she has nevertheless decided to forego returning to her affluent Uncle George (Kent Smith) and his ever-revolving line of secretarial paramours, to enter the convent at St. Francis, wounds Rachel as an utter betrayal of their forged ‘partners-in-crime’ friendship. These vignettes lend The Trouble with Angels its soft-centered core of life-affirming gentleness. Ida Lupino’s direction makes the very most – and best – of these teachable moments without ever becoming preachy, hitting all the right marks but never belaboring any of the finer points. In between, we get the broader scenes – the girls’ day out, shopping for braziers, as example – played strictly for laughs, with Mill’s Mary usually afforded more than a handful of zingers to startle and delight us with their forthright good humor.           

The Trouble with Angels is based on ‘Life with Mother Superior’ by Jane Trahey, and published in 1962 – a loving memoir about Trahey’s own youth spent at a Catholic boarding school in Chicago in the 1930s with Mary Clancy based on Trahey’s friend who, in fact, became Sister John Eudes, a Sinsinawa Dominican nun. The book garnered immediate praise and became a best seller; the film rights snatched up by Ken Donnellon and Jacqueline Babbin who knew Trahey from their days together in advertising.  Donnellon planned to depict the situations in novel through the eyes of one of the younger nuns. Alas, he was unsuccessful at finding a backer. Producer, Ross Hunter then pursued the property, hoping to costar Loretta Young, Jane Wyman, Barbara Stanwyck and Virginia Grey as his nun ensemble with Patty Duke and Mary Badham as Mary and Rachel. But in 1964, Columbia Pictures acquired the film rights and assigned producer, William Frye, who already had a multi-picture arrangement with them. Frye offered the role of Mother Superior to Greta Garbo for a cool million, hoping to coax the reclusive star out of retirement. Indeed, Garbo had not made a movie since 1941’s disastrous comedy, Two-Faced Woman. Garbo, however, remained out of reach.

So, Frye turned to Rosalind Russell as his valiant successor. Just shy of 60, Russell jumped at the opportunity to play the part, believing she might be able to ‘do justice’ to it – a forgivable understatement. As Reverend Mother, Russell is incandescent; a wonderfully weathered, slightly Teutonic, but otherwise motherly educationalist of so much more than the basic curriculum. While clinging to her time-honored traditions, this Mother Superior has the wherewithal to know when to play her cards very close to her wimple.  Meanwhile, Hayley Mills signed on to play Mary – an opportunity for the rapidly maturing ‘child star’ to morph her ‘squeaky clean’ image away from that Disney-fied moppet that had warmed our hearts in such delightful fare as Pollyanna (1960) and The Parent Trap (1961), into a more ‘realistic’ depiction of young adulthood. Perhaps the most unorthodox decision Fyre made was to hire Ida Lupino, that hard-hitting and legendary female star from Warner Bros. golden forties epoch, who could drink most of her male costars under the table, and, who had, seemingly with little hesitation or roadblocks, moved into the director’s chair, mostly action/suspense movies and TV shows. What Lupino brought to the table was more than experience. Indeed, her years at Warner’s had taught Lupino the power of economy film-making, telling a complex story with many facets and plot developments with an uncanny thrift while sacrificing nothing in terms of character development and evolving the overall dramatic arc of the story.  

On a paltry budget of $2 million, Lupino and her entourage went to work in August 1965. Subbing in for the fictional St. Francis Academy was the former St. Mary's Home for Children; presently, Lindenwold Castle in Ambler, Pennsylvania. However, much of the exterior work was completed on the sprawling acreage of Greystone Mansion in Beverly Hills, a private estate since taken over by the City of Beverly Hills and soon to become the future home of the American Film Institution (AFI). Applying a time-honored Hollywood tradition, art director, John Beckman built all of the school’s interiors on soundstages at Columbia Studios’ Sunset & Gower facility. Our tale begins with the arrival of a small contingent of girls to St. Francis; Mary Clancy and Rachel Devery among the hopefuls. Disembarking the train, the brood is met by the optimistic, Sister Clarissa (Mary Wickes) who is ecstatic to be driving her newly refurbished bus. Mary attempts to pass herself off as Kim Novak, and, Rachel, rechristened Fleur-de-lis by Mary, (getting the idea from her broach pin) are easily found out by Mother Superior. Indeed, from the outset, a quiet, but distinct animosity brews between Mary and Mother Superior. “One of us may leave,” Reverend Mother admits to Mary after her first infraction, “But I can promise you it isn’t going to be me.”

Sometime later, Mother Superior confides in Sister Ligouri her secret admiration for Mary.  “Rachel”, she explains, “…has a home and parents who love her. She’s a follower, not a leader. She can be guided. But, Mary... oh, Mary has a will of iron. To bend but not to break... to yield but not capitulate... to have pride but also humility. This has always been my struggle, Sister. Can I be less tolerant of Mary than the Church has been of me?”  But Mary tests Mother Superior’s will almost on a daily basis, charging admission to her fellow students whom she sneaks into the nuns’ private quarters while they are at chapel, only to be caught by Mother Superior, riding down the tubular fire escape. The girls also cut Sister Clarissa’s swim class, indulge in smoking sessions in the bathroom, and generally make a damn nuisance of themselves with their harmless pranks. This tries Mother Superior’s patience.  At one point, after repeatedly confining the girls to kitchen duty for their multiple infractions, she even contemplates expelling Mary and Rachel, summoning Rachel’s father (Pat McCaffrie) and Mary’s Uncle George to the school to vent her displeasure. Alas, Mother Superior comes to realize, while Rachel’s father is devoted to his child, Mary comes from a broken home. Indeed, she has no parents and George – affluent, is otherwise invested in his various relationships with secretaries – having virtually no time to rear a girl; much less, the ambition.

So, Mother Superior agrees to keep Mary and Rachel on. In rapid succession, we advance from the girl’s first awkward year at St. Francis to year two, and then three – their graduation. Before the big day, Mother Superior has her girls administer tea and cakes to elderly women at a nearby rest home. As she meanders through the crowd, Mary is genuinely touched by these dowagers’ stories of hardship. Indeed, her own future suddenly frightens her. Rachel and Mary become amused by Sister Ursula’s (Marjorie Eaton) guttural German accent, incurring Mother Superior’s displeasure. She informs the girls of Sister Ursula’s plight; a nun during WWII in Berlin who was taken prisoner by the Nazis for concealing Jewish children in the church; repeatedly tortured and barely surviving her ordeal. Once again, Mary is defiant. Indeed, she seems determined to resist showing any real human emotion to the outside world. Sometime later, Mary and Rachel retreat to the boiler room to indulge in stogies Mary has swiped from the janitor’s closet. Alas, having cracked open a window, the excess smoke billowing out of the basement is mis-perceived by Sister Prudence (Judith Lowry) as the building having caught fire. The fire brigade is summoned. Discovering the source of ‘the blaze’; Mother Superior confines Rachel and Mary to kitchen duty for the rest of the semester.

Meanwhile, Mother Superior is challenged in her educational acumen by Mr. Petrie (Jim Hutton); a young progressive from a neighboring institution. Informed by Petrie that his school has ‘the finest education minds’ on his side, Mother Superior reminds Petrie she has God on hers. And thus, a healthy détente persists, splintered when Mary and Rachel decide to go slumming to Petrie’s school to see how his marching band sizes up to their own. Informing Mother Superior that the only real advantage they have over St. Francis is ‘band uniforms’, Mother Superior elects to purchase new uniforms for her girls to wear during a planned competition between the two schools. The decision slightly backfires when the costumes supplied prove to be rather ‘sexy’. Mother Superior is horrified. Nevertheless, the outfits lend the necessary ‘edge’ for St. Francis to beat out the competition. Petrie gracious concedes. Upon graduation, Mother Superior announces that two girls have decided to enter the novitiate; one of them, Mary Clancy. Rachel is deeply wounded by Mary’s decision, believing it to be a complete betrayal of all the wily adventures they have lived through these past three years. Again, Mother Superior arrives in the nick of time to calm these hurt feelings. She encourages Rachel to reconsider Mary’s decision, not as a betrayal, but an extension of the values inculcated at the school that Mary, even in all her defiant wisdom, will surely put to the test, though ultimately, in service of becoming a very fine educator for future generations of girls yet to attend St. Francis. Viewed in this light, Rachel and Mary reconcile at the depot. As the train pulls out of station, Rachel tearfully promises to write and Mary agrees to do the same.  

The Trouble with Angels is they never start out this way. In her earliest incarnation, Hayley Mills’ Mary Clancy is, in fact, their antithesis; a little devil to be sure, with one ‘scathingly brilliant idea’ after the next, leading to all sorts of chaos and personal regrets. The trick and the magic here is we empathize with Mary’s awfulness, even with her predilection to be the proverbial fly in Sister Superior’s ointment. Mills makes us see the wounded hurt behind her seemingly devil-may-care façade. This lends meaning to her mayhem. As the story progresses, Mills illustrates just how unloved Mary was at home; how unsatisfactory her future would be if she went back to Uncle George and his ‘secretaries’. Yet, Mary’s decision to enter the convent is never perceived as running from the past or shying away from the future. She makes her final decision neither flippantly nor lightly – not because she has lost something, but rather, because she has found something from within and believes it of value to the sisters at St. Francis. The pang of perceived betrayal that splits Mary and Rachel’s friendship late in the third act – and, the reconciliation to thriftly follow it – are genuine and heartfelt. While Roz Russell’s Sister Superior oft carries the ballast of rank sentiment throughout the first two-thirds of the movie, in the final moments, Mills’ presents us with Mary’s uncanny maturity. This, arguably, was always present, yet deliberately concealed beneath her enterprising bouts of petty larceny.  Stepping away from this charade reveals Mary’s true self-reliance as a viable candidate for the novitiate. In the last analysis, we too believe in her. She will make the world a very fine nun.

The Trouble with Angels arrives on Blu-ray from Sony Pictures, in a real bare-bones affair. The good news is that the 1080p transfer is up to Sony’s usual standards, revealing a palette of rich and bold Pathé colors, brilliantly lensed by cinematographer, Lionel Lindon. Given the limitations of the Pathé process, the image toggles between an incredibly refined quality – smooth, crisp and subtly nuanced – to a slightly ‘less than’ derivative, with marginally amplified grain levels and colors that briefly appear less resilient and can even lean a tad toward the ‘muddy’ side of the spectrum. None of this is a deal breaker, in my opinion; just par for the course of the Pathé photographic process. It’s not Technicolor or Technirama, folks. Contrast is mostly solid, with deep, velvety blacks. Fine details abound. On occasion, a light smattering of age-related artifacts crops up; a brief speckle here, and minor scratch there. Blink and you’ll miss it.  Nothing egregious, so otherwise, there is nothing to complain about here. The 2.0 DTS mono audio is adequate for this primarily dialogue-driven movie. Dialogue is crisp and SFX are predictably flat sounding. We get a badly worn and truncated theatrical trailer as our only extra. I wish Sony had shelled out a little something for an audio commentary…but no. Bottom line: The Trouble with Angels is an unanticipated festive, intermittently maudlin, but ultimately emotionally-fulfilling experience. It hails from a different epoch, both in life and in picture-making, when both were a little more genteel and innocent, and, moved to an even cadence. But the life lessons exuded within are perennially revealing and refreshing. This is a great family-orientated comedy with a soft-candied center. Charming. Absolutely, charming. Very highly recommended!

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

4.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

4

EXTRAS

0