A Justice of the Peace performed weddings a few days before his license was valid. A few years later five couples learn they have never been legally married. Annabel Norris, already Mrs. Mississippi and ready to enter the Mrs. America contest, is now free to enter the Miss Mississippi contest. Written by
Ed Stephan <email@example.com>
According to a November 25, 1951 New York Times article, the picture was going to feature the stories of seven married couples, although the released film has only five. A March 1952 studio synopsis, contained in the PCA file, reveals that Hope Emerson and Walter Brennan were the stars of one of the dropped episodes, in which "Mattie Beaufort" (Emerson) an over-worked, rural housewife is courted by "Handsome" (Brennan), a shiftless philanderer. When Mattie receives the governor's letter notifying her of her marital status, she asks Handsome to read it for her, and he quickly feeds it to the hogs rather than have her learn that she would be free to marry him. A July 25, 1952 entry in Hollywood Reporter's "Rambling Reporter" column indicates that the sequence was filmed, but the reason for its removal from the finished picture has not been determined. See more »
When the Gladwyns are shown in the back seat of their car being driven to the studio, it's supposed to be raining heavily outside, but the cars seen in the rear projection are not using their windshield wipers. See more »
Say one thing about our marriage. If there's such a thing as an un-jackpot, I've hit it!
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The chief virtue of this film is the marvelous casting, which could hardly be better. And there's a pleasing variety to the episodes. That said, the edge to the writing and direction is definitely not as keen as one would like. To give just one example of the problem: A letter is sent to each couple, telling them that, through a technicality, they're not really married. In the opening sequence, we hear the letter dictated. At the appropriate point in each installment, the letter is introduced with a special musical theme, and the reader of the letter reacts appropriately. But then, each time, just to make the point completely clear, we are shown a close-up of the identically worded letter. Another example: Paul Douglas dreams of dates with beautiful girls, AND DREAMS, AND DREAMS... Also, though one suspects that Fred Allen had a hand in the writing of his sequence--a parody of radio breakfast couples--here, too, the satire is a little too obvious, their banter being merely a string of not especially clever product plugs (one of them having the miracle ingredient, chicken fat).
Calhern rises above the heavily ironic divorce-lawyer skit, and James Gleason gives one of his finest performances as a hick hustler promoting Marilyn Monroe in a fledgling Mrs. America contest. Had the rest of the film been as sharp as Gleason's well written and well performed characterization, it could have been a classic. The final sequence is the most successful, because of the fine, unaffected performances of Gaynor and Bracken (particularly the latter) and probably also because Goulding was most at home with this simple romance. A point of interest in the film as a whole is how much attitudes about marriage have changed since the film was made.
AMC has shown an amusing deleted sequence with Walter Brennan in its HIDDEN HOLLYWOOD series.
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