MY FAVORITE BLONDE: Blu-ray (Paramount, 1942) Kino Lorber

As MC of the annual Oscar telecast, hosting a whopping – and record – 19 times, Bob Hope once quipped, “Welcome to the Academy Awards…or, as it’s known at my house – Passover.” Hope would never win an Oscar for any of his 65 big screen performances, though the Academy was exceedingly kind, affording him no less than 5 honorary accolades, beginning in 1940, “…in recognition of his unselfish services to the Motion Picture Industry”, 1944 - "…for his many services to the Academy”, 1952 – “…for his contribution to the laughter of the world”, a Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Awards in 1959, and finally, in 1965, “…for unique and distinguished service to our industry and the Academy.”  Praise indeed, as Hope was a beloved of AMPAS and a well-deserved champion of its yearly pomp and circumstance. Further to the point, and with all due respect to Mr. Hope, whose work I continue to enjoy immensely, his movies were – realistically, and, at best – charming, joyful, but utterly formulaic, with plots providing the mere clothes hanger on which Hope pinned an endless laundry list of zingers, smack-downs and zany one-liners. Sidney Langfield’s My Favorite Blonde (1942) is perhaps a cut above the rest, given a big build-up with its WWII-timed propaganda, and a feisty costar in Madeleine Carroll.

Interesting to think of Carroll now, decades after the bloom of her sterling career has faded into obscurity – eclipsed by the legacies of other stars from her generation like Joan Crawford, and, Bette Davis. Fascinating too to consider that, in 1938, at the height of her popularity and loveliness she was the highest paid actress – not in Hollywood, but the world! Like most well-bred ladies of her time, Carroll’s chosen calling was frowned upon by her father, who preferred to see her a teacher – not a star - but quietly encouraged by her mother, who packed off her statuesque daughter to London to study and seek her fame and fortune on the ‘legitimate’ stage. In retrospect, it was never much of a slog for Carroll, who starred in only her second movie, having already won a beauty contest. One of the hardest working actresses of her generation, Madeleine Carroll often appeared in live theater, on the radio, and in the movies simultaneously, her breakneck spate of responsibilities never to get the better of her – the activities of her dedicated youth, meant to suggest a life filled with purpose.  By the time she set out to costar with Bob Hope in My Favorite Blonde, Carroll was genuinely beloved on both sides of the Atlantic. And although she steadfastly attempted no less than four times to ‘retire’ from the screen, devoting herself to as many husbands, it was only the work that would ultimately satisfy and remain the constant in Madeleine Carroll’s life. In My Favorite Blonde Carroll, largely made up elsewhere as the Teutonic drama queen, herein delves into raucous comedy as the whacky British spy, Karen Bentley, chronically to inveigle herself with Vaudevillian performer, Larry Haines (Hope) and his penguin, in order to elude capture from a formidable entourage of Nazi empathizers, mercilessly after her and the coordinates to a British secret bombing raid.

My Favorite Blonde is also noteworthy as the first collaborative effort between screenwriters, Melvin Frank and Norman Panama, who would go on to have a sparkling champagne cocktail of a conjoined career. As for Bob Hope, his stardom and popularity at the movies had only just been secured two years earlier – his early forays, like 1934’s Going Spanish, woefully undernourished spectacles that played upon his presence as a ‘radio personality’ but might just as easily have been better suited as extended stand-up routines.  Yet, in hindsight, not much had changed between those early pictures and this war-themed pastiche. What saves My Favorite Blonde from unraveling into just another war-time pro-American piece of goodwill propaganda is Frank and Panama’s cleverly contrived screenplay, balancing the frothier fun with heavy dollops of intense suspense. Indeed, our story begins with a murder aboard a freighter one dark and fog-laden eve. And William C. Mellor’s cinematography is A-1, prime real estate a la the noir listing, perhaps reaffirming the old adage about going to see a drama where a comedy broke out.  Hope is in his usual ‘rare’ form as the smart-mouthed bon vivant whose best retorts arise when he is being backed into a corner to partake of more serious matters. My Favorite Blonde is littered in double entendre and in-jokes that go quietly unnoticed today. Two immediately come to mind. In the first, Hope listens to his own radio broadcast before switching off the dial and professing to the audience, “I can’t stand that guy!” In another, Larry, exiting his apartment, declaring, “Lady, if I'm not out of that door in 2 seconds flat, my name's not Larry Haines,” whereupon, a knife plunged into his door jamb from an unseen assailant, and Hope fearfully adds, “Lady - Meet John Doe!” – a sublime reference to Gary Cooper’s turn in Frank Capra’s 1941 masterpiece of the same name.

Alas, what My Favorite Blonde utterly lacks is any sort of cohesive on-screen chemistry between its two stars. Carroll toggles back and forth between the enterprising emissary working for the Brits, and pretending to be a ditzy dame with not a care in the world, unconvincingly to deflect interest in her from Dr. Hugo Streger (George Zucco) and his accomplice, Madame Stephanie Runick (Gale Sondergaard). Problem: comedy is not Carroll’s forte. Nor is she equal to the task of keeping up with Hope’s rapid-fire delivery, often playing more of an awkward game of catch-up to his roller-coaster ride of slick and silly antics. The other misfire here is the introduction of Hope’s Vaudevillian fop. It takes a good 15 minutes for the Frank/Panama screenplay to dispense with the big set-up; the murder of Brit agent, Capt. Elvan (Leslie Denison) whose accomplice, Karen Bentley assumes possession of ‘the scorpion’ – a decorative pin into which secret plans for a British air raid have been encoded. Departing the ship as it docks at port, Karen is identified by Streger and Runick, who pursue her taxi in their own car and inadvertently run down an innocent bystander (Teala Loring) who has no part in their operation. Briefly eluding the spies, Karen ducks into the back of a Vaudeville theater where Larry Haines and his penguin, Percy are just finishing their act. It’s curtains for Haines and Percy, off to Hollywood to make a picture. Karen ingratiates herself to Larry, but slips the scorpion into his lapel undetected, then momentarily charms him into serving as her escort onto a train. Alas, Streger and Runick are always one step ahead.

Karen leaves Larry under false pretenses at the depot, with Streger and Runick doing their utmost to make him extremely uncomfortable once the train is in motion. Karen goes on ahead and meets the train in Albany.  During their 3-hr. stayover in Chicago, Karen steals Larry’s jacket containing the scorpion. He tails her to a hotel suit and demands the return of his property. Now, Karen comes clean about her mission, revealing to Haines her contact has already met with an untimely end in the next room. To avoid a similar fate, Haines suggests they stage a case of domestic violence that will draw a crowd and effectively usher a police escort to have them arrested. Hence, the couple tear up their suite and, predictably, are taken into custody.  Mercifully, the police have yet to discover the body of the murdered agent in the next room, allowing for just enough time for Karen and Haines to stage a reconciliation. The officers take pity on the couple and release them, moments before an APB gets issued for their arrests on a charge of murder. Dubbed ‘the love slayer’ in the press, Haines is forced to take refuge on the rooftop of a union hall along with Karen. The next morning, the couple pretend to be a part of the planned picnic, stealing an actual union worker’s identity to gain access to the bus. Once at the picnic grounds, Karen and Larry swipe the bus, driving it to an airfield where they hijack a biplane to fly them to L.A.  Regrettably, the plane has not been refueled and the couple crash lands in the middle of nowhere, arrested yet again – this time, for pilfering food from a nearby farmer’s crop. Identified as the ‘killers’ of the British operative, Larry and Karen manage to escape yet again. Jumping a freight train to L.A., Karen and Larry arrive at their next point of contact, a funeral parlor – only to discover Runick and Streger have once again beaten them. Rather skillfully, Larry and Karen slip away, arriving at a nearby U.S. Air base where they finally deliver the secret bomber plans and Karen, inexplicably confides, she has fallen madly for her accomplice.

Frank and Panama, whose brilliant big screen collaborations would mature with age, have concocted a rather pedestrian affair for My Favorite Blonde. I suppose we can forgive them this. After all, it’s their first time out – and not an altogether bad effort at that. But this being a Bob Hope comedy, rather than a legitimate WWII thriller, the focus here is on Hope’s pithy retorts, cranked out like sausage links from the comedy gristmill with the unflappable comedian rattling off just the sort of loveably slick and stylized ripostes that made him a legendary, household name. Does it work? Well, partly – but mostly because of Hope’s gloriously refined good nature, even in the face of death. If only the screenplay were a bit more integrated into these laughs, My Favorite Blonde might have been a very memorable outing. Alas, the comedy gets diffused by the interpolated moments of noir-ish severity, designed, presumably, as counterpoints to make us care about the fate of these characters. It doesn’t click, mostly because, after the initial set-up, Frank and Panama quite simply forget their primary objective – to tell a good story of espionage run amuck – and instead rely almost exclusively on Hope’s charisma and zingers to provide what little connective tissue exists in the second and final acts. The ‘race for the man with the face’ with the cops chasing after Hope as their prime suspect, and the Nazis, always one step ahead to foil their plans, wears thin and becomes exceedingly predictable. In the end, and even at barely 86 minutes, My Favorite Blonde is barely sustainable, except as an example of why Bob Hope was such a celebrated entertainer for more than 70 plus years.

My Favorite Blonde arrives in a new-to-Blu 2K transfer from Universal, farmed out to Kino Lorber for distribution. Alas, the results are not altogether satisfying. Aside: advertising '2K' - even 4K remasters is fairly pointless, just a cheap marketing ploy, especially if the sources used to derive these image harvests are not up to snuff.  Owing to the horrendous mismanagement of elements from the old Paramount library (no longer under the studio's custodianship, but owned by Universal, who have a long and spotty track record of properly archiving film history) over the decades, arguably none sourced from original camera negatives, what is here is passable in spots, to downright unacceptable in others. The opening sequences, shot under a heavy veil of fog, suffer from incredibly low contrast, exacerbated by exaggerated grain levels and an unusual smearing of fine details that render the image muddy and indistinguishable.  It’s just an ugly mess. Things marginally improve from here, with most night sequences appearing a tad contrasty, and scenes shot in broad daylight, exhibiting marginally blown out contrast. Fine detail is wanting throughout this B&W image, and film grain frequently is thicker than anticipated – and decidedly not in keeping with the original presentation. While age-related artifacts have been eradicated, minor gate weave and wobble persist throughout, as do minor hints of edge enhancement that crop up from time to time. The 1.0 DTS mono audio is adequate for this presentation. Kino has shelled out for a new audio commentary from film historian, Samm Deighan. And, while Deighan does her level best to contextualize the importance of the movie within its wartime milieu, with all due respect, her interpretations here are a wee too dry and academic to make them a fascinating listen. Bottom line: My Favorite Blonde is a mediocre thriller, a fairly straight-forward ‘race against time’, and a brutally tedious comedy besides. The only reason to see it is for Bob Hope. But there are better Hope comedies out there, and many of them currently finding their way to Blu-ray, albeit, in less than perfect quality in hi-def. Judge and buy accordingly.

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

2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

3

EXTRAS

1