Preston Sturges #3: "The Lady Eve" (1941)

Preston Sturges takes a step away from his working-class social concerns and makes the transition into high society hypocrisy with his next three films, the first being one of the director’s most celebrated achievements: the furious, sexy and pungent screwball comedy, “The Lady Eve”.

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Granted an unusually generous budget and a decisive voice in casting, the film truly announced Sturges’ arrival into the Hollywood mainstream – glitzy gowns, glamorous stars, animated title sequences – and thus changed the face of comedy forever.

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Imbuing his titillating sense of irony and madcap dialogue, “The Lady Eve” also marked Sturges’ foray into daring sexuality, as Barbara Stanwyck, midriff exposed, runs her hands through the head of Henry Fonda, whispering softly into his ear as she does so. (Pretty soon, Claudette Colbert would be plopping down in the lap of Joel McCrea in “The Palm Beach Story”.)

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Of course, Stanwyck, playing the titular seductress, has no problem convincing the clumsy, book smart Fonda (nor the audience) of her intentions on a swanky ocean liner. Although, as soon as she surprises herself with her sympathies, he’s uncovered the trap – a money-grubbing scheme over a game of crooked cards. (Charles Coburn plays her father, a card sharp himself, who is just a piece in one of the most impressive comedic supporting casts ever assembled, including Sturges’ mainstay William Demarest, Eric Blore, Eugene Pallette and Melville Cooper.)

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But naturally, she’s not done with him yet, re-introducing herself in his home as the “Lady Eve Sidwich,” bent on taking care of some “finished business”. He instantly recognizes her, but his self-doubt (and “Eve’s” put-on, playful English accent) keeps him from fully committing to the idea.

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She follows through on her part of the con, convincing poor Pike (Fonda) into a marriage before pulling the rug out from under him on a train, casually rifling through her various flings with men in a wonderful little montage. (“Cecil?” he asks. “It’s pronounced Ce-cil,” she corrects, a clear reference, I believe, to Paramount’s own Cecil B. DeMille.)

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Of course, the obvious resemblance between “Eve” and plain old “Jean” back on the boat is Sturges’ last ingredient in this hectic, farcical stew of identity, mixed signals and the absurdity of love – he wouldn’t have it any other way. [B+]