tentender Review of Letter of Introduction

Letter of Introduction (1938)

Unique, almost post-Modernist comedy/drama

[10/10 · 12 June 2006]

How to discuss this film without spoilers? For once, the screen credit "Story by" (usually one asks: What story?) makes sense. The surprises in this yarn are many. Several established genres -- the aspiring-actress story, the lost-then-found child melodrama, the declining-alcoholic-actor tragedy -- are combined and the results are intriguing. When so many conventions are jumbled together the result is unconventional! Young Andrea Leeds arrives in New York with a letter of introduction to one of America's most beloved actors, played by Adolphe Menjou. Only when she presents the letter to him (in an exquisitely underplayed scene) do we discover that she is his (apparently illegitimate -- was the Hays office nodding in 1938?) daughter. Not having known even of her existence, he is deeply moved and notes her resemblance to her mother. Out of sheer vanity (neatly established in a little scene with his barber) he can't bring himself to introduce her to his fiancée (Ann Sheridan) as his daughter, instead calling her his protegee. Complications ensue, resulting in the breaking-off of his engagement. He then puts all his energy into helping young Kay (Leeds), and, reluctantly, at a producer's urging, agrees to star in a play that will introduce her to the Broadway stage. One expects at this juncture a montage (at least) of the problems involved in putting on a play but instead we cut directly to opening night. And here a most unexpected series of events occurs that turns Letter of Introduction from a light comedy/drama to full-fledged tragedy, defying all expectations of genre. Aside from its remarkable plot, the movie is distinguished by a wealth of fascinating incident. An apartment house fire -- frighteningly realistic, a "bushelites" (artists who hide their talents under a bushel) New Year's Eve party, Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy sending up a roomful of the "cream" of society (cream, that is, which rises to the top -- "So does scum," says Charlie). Andrea Leeds's serene quality is the core of this film, and she carries it superbly, with strong support from all concerned, among them Menjou (in a character clearly based on John Barrymore), Bergen & McCarthy and Mortimer (here called "Mortimore") Snerd (whose comedy bits are, as ever, very clever and amusing), and George Murphy. The direction of John M. Stahl is, as ever, unflinching in its depiction both of ordinary reality and the most intense moments of life. Clearly, this was a man who lived life with his eyes open.