Born Yesterday (1950): And Still Funny

Sometimes, all I want is a movie that will make me laugh. Consistently. On such occasions, I don’t particularly want and certainly don’t need the picture to fire up my adrenalin with chase scenes or explosions, to tug at my heartstrings with a cloying romance, or to teach me anything profound about the human spirit or society’s failings.  And, frankly, few of the current crop of so-called comedies fit the bill either, because so many of those movies overly cater to adolescent sensibilities, emphasizing pee-pee-caca-upchuck jokes, crude embarrassments, and a profusion of f-bombs to get laughs.  Don’t get me wrong: I don’t begrudge the kids their entertainment, but what about me? I need something a bit more clever, a bit less crass.

So it was the other day, when I happened upon the old classic comedy, Born Yesterday. With a witty script (adapted from the play by Garson Kanin) and captivating, convincing, hilarious performances from its leads, the amazing Judy Holliday and (of all people) Broderick Crawford, this picture delivered the comic goods.  So what if the film old (1950)? It works!

Broderick Crawford was known mostly for playing tough guys and thugs until his breakthrough academy-award winning performance in 1949’s All The King’s Men, as Willie Stark, a rough and tumble politician, modeled after Louisiana’s Gov. Huey Long. In Born Yesterday, he is Harry Brock, a gruff, uncouth, up-from-the-streets junk-yard magnate, come to Washington D.C. on business – that business being buying-up a few politicians, with the assistance of his corrupt but sophisticated and well-connected lawyer, Jim Devery (Howard St. John). Brock has brought along his benighted blond doxy, Billie Dawn (Holliday), a character somewhere between Jean Harlow’s Kitty Packer (Dinner At Eight [1933]) and Barbara Stanwyck’s Sugarpuss O’Shea in Ball of Fire (1941). 

Billie Dawn, as brought to life by Holliday, is an great and unforgettable character. Her entire persona is funny – her clothes, body language, attitude, and especially her hilarious patois – some sort of 1930’s Bronx/Brooklyn concoction, a squeaky and tarty American version of Eliza Doolittle, if Eliza was a showgirl. Holliday originated the role of Billie on the New York stage, but her work in the film version of Born Yesterday won her an Oscar for Best Actress in 1951 (over the likes of Gloria Swanson, nominated for Sunset Boulevard, and Bette Davis, nominated for All About Eve) – one of the very rare occasions this award was bestowed for a comic performance. 

Harry Brock’s problem is that Billie is too vulgar and unsophisticated for DC society, yet he wants to show her off. (He does not seem to realize just how boorish and coarse he is himself, or perhaps – being rich and powerful - he just doesn’t care.) So he buys (i.e. “hires”) a suave, Ivy-educated journalist, Paul Verrall (William Holden) to upgrade the girl, smooth her rough edges, teach her how to fit in better.  Paul takes on the job in the linguist-spirit of Henry Higgins, but with the additional task of expanding Billie’s intellectual horizons. Being a true-believer in American democracy and with all of the iconography of the nation’s capital in his toolkit, Paul goes to town, literally, with this assignment, and with predictable results – providing a little dramatic tension , i.e. Billie’s discovery of her brain, as well as a bit of (not very convincing) romance to move the story along.  Holden is okay, but his character is essentially a plot device and unconvincing. 

Born Yesterday is pretty much Holliday’s show. She is awesome in every scene.  Early on, in a sequence in which Harry and Jim are trying to discuss “business” schemes, she cracked me up just by turning on the radio, then tunelessly and humorously humming along with some on-air ditty, mindlessly disrupting the conversation.  Her scenes opposite Crawford, where Billie and Harry go at it, are a complete and absolute hoot. They shout to and at one another across Harry’s cavernous penthouse suite; in the midst of a vociferous, passionate argument, each abruptly pauses mid-sentence to allow the maid to traverse the room, only to pick up without missing a beat when she’s gone; and then there’s the memorable (and famous) gin rummy game, a seemingly regular and intimate pastime between Billie and Harry - absolutely hilarious, while also revealing quite a lot about their relationship and about the real Billie.

Born Yesterday does have a few faults – a bit too much patriotic piety near the end, the contrived romance that does not really work  - but these are easily overlooked. It’s a true classic in the best sense of the word.  If you haven’t seen it, or haven’t checked it out in years, I recommend putting it on your list. It’s a light-hearted, funny romp.

Born Yesterday is available for streaming at Amazon Instant Video, Vudu, and at the iTunes store; the DVD is available from Netflix.

(Do not confuse this with the 1993 remake with Melanie Griffith – very inferior).