TEACHER'S PET: Blu-ray (Paramount, 1958) Kino Lorber
Two old pros,
Clark Gable and Doris Day (one, decidedly older than the other), create juicily
amusing romantic friction in director, George Seaton’s Teacher’s Pet
(1958), a delightful, if slightly too long rom/com that continues to hold up,
despite its flaws. Let’s just address the elephant in the room – Gable,
slumming it in academia as seasoned metropolitan news editor, Tom Gannon,
forced by his boss, Lloyd Crowley (Harry Antrim) to reconsider a rather
scathing reply to university instructor, Erica Stone’s gracious invite to speak
on the art and craft of journalism. Can anyone actually believe Gable, then 58,
feigning to ‘break’ into the newspaper biz? The trick and the magic here is
that Gable, instantly attracted to the much younger Stone, sells the ruse as
finely wrought fluff, and manages with considerable ease, to take Stone and the
rest of us along for the ride.
Fay and Michael
Kanin’s screenplay succeeds, not so much because Gable can still fake that
inimitable studliness he once exuded in spades on the screen. Rather, like the
very best of those graciously aging stars from yesteryear, Gable’s own
cognizance that time has withered the illusion, has nevertheless not extended
to deny him of his ability to command the screen, now as the eminence grise of middle-aged
masculinity – Gable, unpacking 30 years of experience as the hottest male
commodity of his generation, cleverly folding that waning animal magnetism into
a role that respects the parade of youth has since bypassed him. He’s still
Clark Gable, and, with all the built-in/built-up screen persona that can still
occasionally flash inklings of all those sexy rascals and smoothies he made
iconic a decade earlier. But Gable knows his place here, and aims higher as the
sage, just old enough to know precisely what’s to be done about his young
feelings.
The fascination
here is how Gable avoids playing to the dinosaur or relic class from another
time, pulling back on the reigns of his own transactional approach to romance
that once typified desirable male domination over the female of the species in
pre-war America. In the atomic age, this
19th century notion of man as master and mate has mellowed. So too
has Gable’s approach to him. Indeed, Erica Stone is, what was then coined ‘the
new woman’ – independent, free-thinking, high-minded and go-getting; in short,
the female Clark Gable. So, Tom Gannon is going to have a time of it. In some
ways, he doesn’t actually succeed. Yet, it’s the tussle and taunt in the clever
writing that bodes for both characters in this refreshingly adult détente
between two people who might share more than just a bed.
And the writers
of Teacher’s Pet are unafraid to suggest there might be other men on the
horizon to rival Gable’s molded masculinity – men, like cub reporter, Harold
Miller (Peter Baldwin) whom Gannon treats deplorably as his ‘nothing’ fetch and
carry. Gannon makes out its Miller’s formal education that has left a bad taste
in his mouth. Gannon, it seems, came up from the school of hard knocks and
thinks of university as a place where those who never did, teach others to do
it just as badly in their own professions upon graduation. But actually, its
Miller’s youth and good looks that are so threatening to Gannon here; also, the
suggestion, with the proper tutelage, Miller might prove himself as good, if
not better than Gannon at his profession… in spite of his formal education. The threat is even more genuinely represented
to Gannon, pitted against Erica’s already established, intellectual paramour,
sophisticated psychologist, Dr. Hugo Pine (Gig Young). Pine’s not a wooden
head. He’s a bright and stimulating man-about-town.
In one of Teacher’s
Pet’s most amusing vignettes, Erica revels in Gannon’s uncomfortable squirming
over the sexually-charged nightclub performance given by his blousy, sometimes ‘friend’
with benefits, Peggy (Mamie Van Doren). There is a painful obsolescence at play
during this moment, perhaps the first and only time Gannon has taken a hard
look at his own approach and technique with ‘the ladies’ as outdated as his
future in the newspaper biz. There is also a wonderful moment when Gannon,
having finally convinced Erica to partake of a dance, is chagrined after the
music transgresses from familiar foxtrot into a bee-bop with which he cannot
keep pace. Again, it’s the subtlety in Gable’s performance, his allowance for
Gannon’s uncertainty to glimmer through his seemingly Teflon-coated ego, that
stirs something more deeply satisfying for the guy on his way out, though never
to accept that he’s down. When Erica finally does allow Gannon to get to first
base, it causes him to fall back on time-honored techniques. It doesn’t work –
yet - because nothing has actually changed between them. He still hails from an
era when female prudishness was meant to be conquered by the physicality of the
hulking brute, while, she is always the progressive who wants more than just
great sex. While Gannon agrees, there is more to Erica than meets the eye, it
also bothers him she has come to this conclusion first. After all, what more
does he have to offer her?
Yet, Gannon is about
to be schooled in a way that does not impugn his more primitive masculine
nature. Instead, such humbling incidents pave an even more heart-felt humility where
the real growth in his character can occur. Gannon really does learn something
from Erica – much as Oscar Wilde once astutely pointed out, that cannot be
‘taught’ in the classroom. So, Gannon evolves…but on his terms. And, he becomes
more sympathetic to the plight of others, most notably, Edna Kovac (Vivian
Nathan) who, earlier implored Gannon to reconsider firing her son, Barney (Nick
Adams) whom Gannon is content to exploit for his eagerness as his grunt at the
newspaper. The initial ‘cute meet’ between Gannon and Stone, where he
steamrolls his way into her classroom, presumably to teach her a lesson,
instead gets subverted as Gannon begins to realize he has a lot more to glean in
the presence of a woman who truly knows her own mind and heart. And given it’s
Clark Gable – the Joe-studly of his generation who once made Rhett Butler the
epitome of masculine chic two decades earlier by basically playing to the
antithesis of Tom Gannon – Gable’s transformation herein, into a cosmopolitan-centric,
post-war American male – is all the more startling and satisfying as,
ostensibly, he hasn’t actually given up on that other side of the Gable we all
know and love. He’s just added to that guy’s tapestry of life.
While Gable’s
performance is monumentally nuanced, co-star, Doris Day offers up what is
possibly her best ‘serious’ performance in a rom/com. That Day should warble
the fetching Joe Lubin title tune to perfection is expected. And Day, despite
having begun her professional life as a singer, was quick to illustrate there
was a lot more to her screen presence than an award-winning set of pipes. She
played the dutiful wife to a raging bigot in 1950’s Storm Warning, went
toe-to-toe with gangster dynamo, James Cagney in 1955’s bio/musical, Love Me
Or Leave Me, and held her own opposite James Stewart, achieving a startling
intensity in Hitchcock’s 1956 VistaVision remake of The Man Who Knew Too
Much. In Teacher’s Pet, Day is leaning in to the sort of frothy
feminist frolicking she would lionize opposite co-star, Rock Hudson in 1959’s Pillow
Talk, then, carry over into the next decade. It’s a great performance she
gives here, opposite one of Hollywood’s irrefutably forthright he-men. The
chemistry between Day and Gable is palpable, and, at times, even invigorating
in the sort of frankly adult, teasingly sexual way that too few romantic comedies
of Teacher’s Pet’s ilk ever dared to attempt, for fear of offending the
censors.
Day’s built-in
wholesomeness gets tinged with sass. She’s not as good as she pretends to be,
thereby falling in line with the sort of heartier gals Gable’s prior spate of
leading ladies held in high regard. There is a hint of the dangerous a la Lana
Turner, and a sprinkle of the head-butting rapport Gable had with Vivien Leigh
in Gone with The Wind (1939). Day’s Erica Stone is no pushover. Nor is Erica,
either eager or even willing to allow her morals or principles to slip, merely
to placate Tom’s animal magnetism. If Tom desires Erica, it will be on her
terms. This sort of commanding presence, at least in women, can be
emasculating. But Day plays it with a sophisticate’s finesse, and the presence
of mind to recognize Erica is an old-fashioned girl who accepts her suitors,
warts and all, as they come to her, instead of desiring to remake them in the
shadow of what was then laughingly coined ‘the new woman’.
The chemistry
between Day and Gable extended beyond the camera. Between takes, the stars were
frequently observed extending every professional courtesy, with the utmost sincerity
to do great work together. Gable considered Day ‘one of the guys’ – high praise
indeed from the man who otherwise could usually be found chatting up the grips
and electricians rather than his co-stars. One must also not diminish the
capacity of director, George Seaton to create harmony on the set. Seaton, a
master craftsman in extolling the subtleties of male/female sparring, herein coalesces
the pragmatic with the insanely improbable, forming one penetratingly frank amusement.
The initial
premise, pitting hard-won labor against egg-headed enlightenment, is eventually
set aside as Gannon and Stone begin their parallel course into a heady romantic
future. She admires him. He comes to respect her. Their viewpoints,
diametrically opposed at the outset, unexpectedly converge, generating hot
sparks of rom/com friction - all of it, in great good taste and fun. The comedy
here is refined and witty. The drama – slight, but direct and unvarnished –
carries us over the threshold of what might otherwise have become a very
awkward May/December rom/com. Intelligently scripted, Teacher’s Pet
never veers towards the maudlin or preachy, nor does it talk down to its
audience with cliché rom/com innuendoes. That alone is quite enough to
recommend it as a timeless piece of screen entertainment.
Teacher’s Pet arrives on
Blu-ray via Kino’s alliance with Paramount Home Video. Paramount has done the
heavy lifting here. Curious that the studio would have shot the picture in VistaVision,
but in B&W. Perhaps, they were hedging their bets against a flop.
Nevertheless, Haskell B. Boggs’ cinematography is handsome, filling the frame
with all sorts of compelling clutter to represent Gannon’s home base, and the
relatively antiseptic backgrounds of non-distracting academia to suit Stone’s
stomping grounds. All of these visuals are handled with spectacular clarity on
Blu-ray, derived from a 6K scan off an original VistaVision camera negative.
There are a few
scattered examples of image instability and one scene in which a fluorescent lamp
on Erica’s secretary’s desk strobes uncontrollably. But otherwise, utmost care
has been paid to offer up a remarkably clean 1080p transfer with razor-sharp
clarity, excellent contrast and oodles of fine detail. The 2.0 mono audio is
another matter. Unlike a good many VistaVision pics from its vintage, Teacher’s
Pet was only ever recorded in Westrex mono. No Perspecta stereo
alternative. Not that Paramount would have likely included it here, if it did
exist. But there are several instances where the sound inexplicably bottoms
out, dropping several decibels as though someone has fallen asleep at the
controls during the mastering process. It’s not particularly distracting, but
it is noticeable. Again, Kino has shelled out for a Julie Kirgo/Peter Hankoff
commentary. This one is more animated than their efforts on Houseboat,
and it has more to say about both stars and the production. So, good stuff
here. We also get a badly worn trailer, upscaled from a 720i source. Not great.
Bottom line: Teacher’s Pet is a
wonderfully engaging rom/com that holds up. While times have changed, Day and
Gable ensure this one remains perennially uplifting. The Blu is a solid affair.
Not perfect, but well worth your coin. Highly recommended.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
4
EXTRAS
1
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