This extraordinarily sweet–but thankfully not sappy–film proves once and for all that Cary Grant was devastating, period. Young, mature, or in his golden years. The reason Ian Fleming modeled James Bond after Grant is startlingly clear. Grant was 62 when this film, set during the 1964 Tokyo Olympics, was made. Grant plays Sir William Rutland, who is caught in the crowded rush–without a place to stay. He finds himself subletting an apartment along with Christine Easton (Samantha Eggar), who’s in town to be near her fiancé, a British diplomat. Also sharing their tight quarters is Olympic competitor Steve Davis (Jim Hutton), who’s evasive about his sport. Soon Sir William, a distinguished businessman, finds himself playing Cupid to his young housemates.
The movie is a comedy of clever words, of misunderstandings, and, surprisingly, of physical humor. Grant, stripping down to boxers and a T-shirt, takes to the Tokyo streets, participating in “the event” to the incredulity of those around him and to the amusement of the audience. It’s a priceless and very funny scene–and the film is full of such joys. Grant lived another 20 years, but this was his final film and a fine cheerio it is indeed. –N.F. Mendoza
Cary Grant’s penultimate feature before retirement was this cheerful 1964 effort to overturn his career-long image of urbane sophistication. As the unshaven, messy misanthrope Walter Eckland, a World War II-era beach bum who monitors Japanese air activity for the Australian navy in exchange for booze, Grant makes a convincingly hard-bitten, hard-drinking antihero. Until, that is, a pretty French schoolmistress (Leslie Caron) and her seven little charges (all girls) survive a nearby plane crash and invade Eckland’s raunchy isolation. Directed by 1960s hit-maker Ralph Nelson (The Lilies of the Field, Charly), Father Goose is a glossy comedy that also does justice to its more suspenseful scenes (a deadly snakebite suffered by Caron’s character is especially memorable) and leaves plenty of room for Grant to indulge in some entertaining if atypical screen behavior. All in all, this is a minor treat in the actor’s magnificent filmography. –Tom Keogh
Audrey Hepburn plays a Parisienne whose husband is murdered and who finds she is being followed by four men seeking the fortune her late spouse had hidden away. Cary Grant is the stranger who comes to her aid, but his real motives aren’t entirely clear–could he even be the killer? The 1963 film is directed by Stanley Donen, but it has been called “Hitchcockian” for good reason: the possible duplicities between lovers, the unspoken agendas between a man and woman sharing secrets. Charade is nowhere as significant as a Hitchcock film, but suspense-wise it holds its own; and Donen’s glossy production lends itself to the welcome experience of stargazing. One wants Cary Grant to be Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn to be no one but Audrey Hepburn in a Hollywood product such as this, and they certainly don’t let us down. –Tom Keogh
Cary Grant is the befuddled English earl casually puttering around his tourist attraction of a grand old estate in casual dress while a bull of an American millionaire (Robert Mitchum) crashes into his life and seduces Grant’s sophisticated lady (Deborah Kerr). It’s pure fantasy, of course, with its cool, cultured lovers swapping witty banter with the same calm they swap gunshots in an old-fashioned duel. Have adultery and jealousy ever been so civilized? Stanley Donen never shakes this very British drawing-room comedy of manners free of its talky, stagebound source or its deliberate snail’s pace, but he does manages to bring a lightness that softens the wit with an American lilt. Ultimately, though, it’s all about a crack cast in fine form: Mitchum’s sleepy-eyed insolence, Kerr’s easy elegance, Jean Simmons’s flighty outrageousness, and especially the charm and measured grace that is Cary Grant. –Sean Axmaker
Blake Edwards’s delightful 1959 comedy stars Cary Grant as a World War II submarine captain whose preference for a by-the-book command reluctantly yields to certain realities. Chief among those is that Grant’s first officer (Tony Curtis, who impersonated Grant that same year in Billy Wilder’s Some Like It Hot), a shameless hustler, is better than the navy at delivering whatever supplies the ship and crew need to keep going. But when Curtis sneaks a handful of Philippine refugees and several gorgeous nurses onto the all-male sub, the skipper not only has to cool down his crew but deal with an unexpected feminine influence on ship protocol. The film is a great deal of fun, sprinkled with the director’s trademark sight gags (including one of Edwards’s best, involving a torpedo and jeep), and graced with his unmistakable lilt. Grant is in great form, his comic brilliance almost impossibly effortless. –Tom Keogh
A strong candidate for the most sheerly entertaining and enjoyable movie ever made by a Hollywood studio (with Citizen Kane, Only Angels Have Wings and Trouble in Paradise running neck and neck). Positioned between the much heavier and more profoundly disturbing Vertigo (1958) and the stark horror of Psycho (1960), North by Northwest (1959) is Alfred Hitchcock at his most effervescent in a romantic comedy-thriller that also features one of the definitive Cary Grant performances. Which is not to say that this is just “Hitchcock Lite”; seminal Hitchcock critic Robin Wood (in his book Hitchcock’s Films Revisited) makes an airtight case for this glossy MGM production as one of The Master’s “unbroken series of masterpieces from Vertigo to Marnie.” It’s a classic Hitchcock Wrong Man scenario: Grant is Roger O. Thornhill (initials ROT), an advertising executive who is mistaken by enemy spies for a U.S. undercover agent named George Kaplan. Convinced these sinister fellows (James Mason as the boss, and Martin Landau as his henchman) are trying to kill him, Roger flees and meets a sexy Stranger on a Train (Eva Marie Saint), with whom he engages in one of the longest, most convolutedly choreographed kisses in screen history. And, of course, there are the famous set pieces: the stabbing at the United Nations, the crop-duster plane attack in the cornfield (where a pedestrian has no place to hide), and the cliffhanger finale atop the stone faces of Mount Rushmore. Plus a sparkling Ernest Lehman script and that pulse-quickening Bernard Herrmann score. What more could a moviegoer possibly desire?–Jim Emerson
Cary Grant and Sophia Loren look just swell together in Houseboat, and why shouldn’t they? Grant was still at his best, Loren was bewitching Hollywood as an exotic new ingénue, and offscreen they had had a torrid affair a couple of years earlier, during the shooting of The Pride and the Passion. The two tanned stars are the main attraction in this romantic comedy, which installs single dad Cary and his three children on a dilapidated houseboat on the Potomac River. Sophia is the maid, except she’s not really a maid but the cultured daughter of a famous musician. Yes, this is one of those situation comedies in which every problem could be cleared up if only one character told the truth about the situation. If that sort of thing drives you crazy, best skip this one. It’s no classic, but those two icons are awfully appealing. –Robert Horton
Christian Dior really ought to be considered one of the stars of Indiscreet, director Stanley Donen’s consummately glamorous, altogether grown-up love story. The magnificent 1950s “New Look” gowns Dior designed for Ingrid Bergman, herself at the peak of sophistication and loveliness, are a high point of the film’s chic, cosmopolitan mise en scène. Bergman plays Anne Kalman, a celebrated actress who’s “the envy of everyone who knows her,” yet is bored and lonely. Then she meets suave diplomat Philip Adams (Cary Grant), her match in every way: looks, charm, elegance–the works. The electricity is palpable between them and neither makes any attempt to hide that fact. When Anne learns that Philip is an expert on international finance, she’s bold enough to crack: “I’m crazy about hard currency.”
It’s the very maturity of the romance between Anne and Philip that makes this movie so exhilarating, so romantic, and so affecting. When people fall in love at “a certain age” it’s much more poignant; much more is at stake. (The film has a truly surprising plot twist, which throws everything into chaos.) The two “sadder but wiser” stars Bergman and Grant had certainly seen their share of love and heartbreak by this time in their lives, and it shows. (Grant was on the third of his five marriages; Bergman’s career had already survived the scandal of her adulterous affair with Roberto Rossellini.) It’s fascinating to watch them both, knowing what we know of their personal lives: to see Bergman’s Anne throw caution to the wind to commit an “indiscretion” with a married man; to observe Grant/Philip’s distinct ambivalence about the institution of marriage. It’s a case of picture-perfect casting. –Laura Mirsky
Get out your handkerchiefs for this four-star weepie, a 1957 remake of the 1939 Love Affair, directed by Leo McCarey, who also made the original. Grant and Kerr are strangers on an ocean liner, involved with other people, but who can’t resist each other for a shipboard romance. They decide to test whether this is the real thing by agreeing to split up, then meet in six months atop the Empire State Building. Is there anyone who can resist that setup or the tragic romantic mishap that nearly splits them up? Can you keep dry eyes during the famous finale? Some prefer the original (with Charles Boyer); practically no one liked the underrated 1994 remake with Warren Beatty and Annette Bening. While occasionally a shade slow, this one soars on Grant’s charm and Kerr’s noble suffering. –Marshall Fine
One of the creamiest of all of Alfred Hitchcock’s films, To Catch a Thief is something like pure pleasure. Begin ticking off the ingredients of this 1955 movie and you’ll get the picture: Cary Grant, Grace Kelly, the French Riviera, champagne, fireworks, cat burglary. Mmm, it already feels good. Grant plays a retired thief who becomes a suspect when valuable things begin disappearing along the Cote d’Azur. The diamonds hanging from the well-sculpted neck of Grace Kelly would appear to be the newest target, but it’s just possible that actual romance might also be wafting through the Mediterranean air. The lightness of the story keeps To Catch a Thief from being one of the masterpieces of Hitchcock’s great run in the 1950s, but it is very difficult to cavil about the sunny locations, Grant’s elegant aplomb, and Kelly’s shrewd withholding of her sexual interest beneath the ice-queen exterior. John Michael Hayes provided the amusing script (which stretches double entendres to their limit, especially in a romantic discussion of fried chicken), Edith Head the splendid costumes. If the movie has any weight at all, it’s in proving that at this point in his career Hitchcock was consumed with charting the tricky terrain of male-female courtship; if issues of trust are treated here with a light touch, they nevertheless matter as much as the mechanical working-out of Mr. H’s suspense stories. –Robert Horton
This extraordinarily sweet–but thankfully not sappy–film proves once and for all that Cary Grant was devastating, period. Young, mature, or in his golden years. The reason Ian Fleming modeled James Bond after Grant is startlingly clear. Grant was 62 when this film, set during the 1964 Tokyo Olympics, was made. Grant plays Sir William Rutland, who is caught in the crowded rush–without a place to stay. He finds himself subletting an apartment along with Christine Easton (Samantha Eggar), who’s in town to be near her fiancé, a British diplomat. Also sharing their tight quarters is Olympic competitor Steve Davis (Jim Hutton), who’s evasive about his sport. Soon Sir William, a distinguished businessman, finds himself playing Cupid to his young housemates.
