Bell, Book, Oscar please...
By far, one of the goddess-like attributes of the divine Ms. Kim Novak has shown herself to be not only the original mold of what a "character actress" must subject herself to, but with her lightening wit, exceptional beauty, (and trust me, the Divine Miss "N" is still in her prime, even at her now "golden years".
I had the privilege of meeting her on her llama ranch in Eagle Point, Oregon, before it was tragically burned to the ground.
Everything, EVERYTHING she had, from the original script to Vertigo, BB&C, (which insiders tell me, she has a MAJOR role in her character, Miss Gillian Holroyd, her lines, her back story, which come now as no surprise, as a woman who who is unhappy with her life as a witch, must deal with her bumbling, but lovable aunt, and brother, who find turning the stoplights green, and playing pranks on unsuspecting "mortals", or "outsiders" as they refer to them in the film.
After a final test to see if she can possibly win over co star Jimmy Stewart's interests, without..."tricks", as she poignantly portrays her internal struggle to just "sit in a quiet church somewhere, singing carols... instead of bongo drums", she recites to her Aunt Queenie, none other then the infamous Bride of Frankenstein.
The rest of the movie becomes rather fast paced, as Gillian soon realizes that she may have bitten off more than she can chew this time.
But you must see this classic to find what the Divine Miss "N" has taken in, taken on, that sometimes life is just full of surprises.
And if that old recycled piece of advice doesn't take you, then take it to the nearest recycling center, and give another find.
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Magic in Manhattan . . .
This fun, quirky film was adapted for the screen from a play of the same name by John Van Druten. Originally set in England, Van Druten wrote it as a straight play, but in the tryouts, people laughed, so he changed it to a light comedy that starred Rex Harrison and Lilli Palmer, that was produced in New York by Irene Mayer Selznick. David O. Selznick of Columbia acquired the film rights and cast his wife, Jennifer Jones, as Gillian, and reset the story in Paris, but Jones became pregnant and Kim Novak replaced her - Novak was fresh from working with Jimmy Stewart in "Vertigo", where, ironically, Novak had ALSO replaced the pregnant Vera Miles. In exchange for lending Novak for "Vertigo", Columbia got a two-movie deal with Stewart, who they slated for "Bell, Book and Candle". Novak's price for coming in on BB&C was that her friend, Richard Quine, direct - and so, after many twists and turns, the story was reset a third time in Manhattan's Greenwich Village.
Many critics thought the film lacked the wit and charm of the original play; however, not having seen the original, this reviewer found plenty of wit and charm to enjoy in this delightful comedy. The film's one flaw is the casting of the legendary Stewart as the romantic lead opposite Novak - he was just too old, and ruefully acknowledged this later on. He was by this time 50 years old, nearly quavery-voiced, thread-papery looking, with receding grey hair and old hands. He was heavily made up to compensate, but it shows, and thus only underscores the miscasting. Opposite someone like Deborah Kerr it might not have mattered, but beside the thirty-something, sumptuously upholstered, and staggeringly sensual Novak (today Hollywood would send Novak to a fat-farm), he is pallid and simply unbelievable as the object of her passion.
However, Stewart was a trooper if nothing else, and never less than sincere, and gave it his best shot. BB&C would have been a better film with someone like, say, Gregory Peck, as the romantic male lead, but it is nevertheless enjoyable, and, as a result of the unevenly cast romantic leads, as often happens, the supporting cast (including the cat, Pyewacket) nearly walks off with the movie.
Novak plays Gillian Holroyd (or Gil, as her intimates call her) who comes from a long line of witches and is part of the underground magic community in Manhattan's Greenwich Village - when it was still genuinely bohemian rather than commercially so. Gil runs a gallery that sells primitive art (the opening titles are very funny, with the actors' names matched up with ancient masks that really resemble them) and lives at the back of the shop. Gil's warlock brother Nicky (in a darling portrayal by Jack Lemmon) plays the bongos at the Zodiac Club, where all the local witches/warlocks hang out; her hapless aunt, Queenie (Elsa Lanchester), who is apt to utilize her arcane talents at the wrong times and in the wrong places, lives in the apartment building over Gil's shop. It's a cosy life, lived by separate rules - a community of Adepts who pride themselves on their invisibility to the ordinary mortals around them.
Gil, however, has lately been feeling constrained by her membership in this community, and longs to belong to a somewhat broader one. As the film opens, it is Christmas Eve, and Gil is wondering why she feels so discontent and restless. As she ruminates, she spots the most recent arrival in the building, publisher Shepherd "Shep" Henderson (Stewart), who has already caught Gil's interest. Due to an unexpected bit of occult meddling on Queenie's part - she has cast a spell on his telephone - Shep is obliged to ask Gil if he can use hers to report the "problem", and Gil gets an opening for introductions - alas, Gil has barely batted her eyelashes at him before she finds out that he is engaged, and Gil abandons thoughts of pursuing him - she has a strict rule about taking other women's men. Shep is going out that evening and the sly Queenie recommends the Zodiac Club.
Of course, Gil and Nicky and Queenie have also congregated at the Zodiac Club that evening when Shep and his fiancee, Merle (played with delicious bitchiness by the late Janice Rule), arrive. Gil recognizes Merle as a particularly obnoxious former schoolmate from Wellesley, who sent poison-pen letters and had a reputation as a "beau snatcher". It doesn't take long for the old antipathy between the two women to surface and, at the end of the evening, Gil invites Shep in for a late nightcap. When she learns that he and Merle are planning to get married the next day, Gil abandons her "hands-off" rule, corrals her cat, Pyewacket, who is actually her "familiar", and with Pyewacket's help, casts a love spell on the unwitting Shep. Shep falls instantly and passionately in love with Gil, and the next morning unceremoniously jilts Merle.
Unfortunately for Shep, witches can't fall in love (or cry, or blush, as it happens). As Queenie remarks, "hot blood is not forbidden to us" but love and marriage are quite another matter - in fact, legend has it that falling in love will deprive a witch of her powers (and thereby hangs another discussion!). But having ensnared Shep so deeply that he wants to marry her, Gil is now confronted with what to do with his devotion. In a fit of pique against the "rules" (rooted in what the audience, of course, already knows is her dangerous feeling for Shep), Gil accepts Shep's proposal and decides to "renounce" her powers, after confessing to him what she is and what she has done, so that they can live happily ever after on mortal terms.
Naturally, Shep at first refuses to believe Gil, but when presented with irrefutable evidence of her powers and of the spell she has cast upon him, he is humiliated and outraged, and seeks help in breaking the spell from one of the community's legendary elders, Mrs. DePass (the inimitable Hermione Gingold). The scene in which Mrs. DePass releases Shep from his bondage in her fusty parlor in Brooklyn, for a cool $1,000, is one of the film's most hilarious, complete with a rude parrot yelling at poor Shep, "Who's a fool!? You're a fool!"
Mrs. DePass's expensive counterspell works and Gil's enchantment is undone. However, Shep is so rude as he flaunts his newfound "freedom" in Gil's face that she vows revenge and rushes to collect Pyewacket for an entirely different kind of spell - only to find that Pyewacket flees at her approach. The reason is clear when Gil puts her hand up to her cheek and finds - tears, real tears. She has fallen in love with Shep and, in her misery, is crying over his loss, and has lost her powers.
While Gil and Shep have been struggling with their relationship, Gil's brother, Nicky, in an effort to improve his shabby economic prospects, has agreed to collaborate on a book on magic with a dissolute author who specializes in sensationalist books on the occult, Sidney Redlitch (Ernie Kovacs). Originally, Nicky's orders were to put Redlitch off the scent of the occult community by feeding him erroneous information. But when Nicky realizes the financial rewards of giving Redlitch the real dope on witchcraft, he reveals his occult heritage and offers personal guidance to Redlitch for a 50-50 split. Horrified by the exposure that would result, the last thing Gil does before the confrontation with Shep is utilize Pyewacket to ensure that the book will never find a publisher.
Thus, the scene is set for multiple collisions among the protagonists.
Realizing her niece's hopeless plight (in love but powerless to call her lover back), Queenie persuades Nicky to set aside his anger at Gil for her interference in his book venture, and help her reunite the lovers. Pyewacket is sent to "fetch" Shep back into Gil's presence. When he returns the cat to the shop, Shep realizes quickly that Gil has lost her powers, and why. They fall into each other's arms and Shep murmurs that perhaps it's been "real" all along - "After all, who's to say what magic is?"
Kim Novak, with her platinum hair, smoky voice, and hefty curves, is perfect as Gil. Stewart, as noted above, is totally miscast as Shep, but he is a seasoned professional and brings some modest charm to the role. The supporting cast of great character actors makes the most of every moment onscreen and contributes signficantly to the film's quirky humor.
"Bell, Book and Candle" goes down easy, is well-written, stylishly produced, and was shot in gorgeous Technicolor.
Having said all that, this reviewer feels compelled to add a few notes on themes that the film raises, probably, as a light romantic comedy, unintentionally. Gillian begins the film as a rather magnificent, almost feline creature who lives independently ("by and for the special" as she phrases it), has a degree in anthropology from a Seven Sisters college, and is endowed with exceptional gifts - a powerful package. But, as the film makes clear, that is Gil's problem: she is TOO powerful a package and undue power unfits women for love. In order to attach a man and achieve romantic bliss, Gil has to give up her "exceptional" nature - the very core of who she is. Thus, Stewart's miscasting is not merely visually problematic, it begs the question of why a woman like this would give up so much for so paltry a reward - the story's answer is clear: romantic success, even with so unequal a partner, outweighs authenticity.
Just how much Gil gives up is clear at the end of the film. When Shep brings Pyewacket back to the shop, we see that it has been transformed from an intriguing, atmospheric place of her own making (and about which Shep has never once expressed the slightest admiration) selling primitive (read: potent) art to a light and airy one called "Flowers of the Sea" that sells nothing more potent than seashells. The now powerless Gil appears in a floaty, light-colored shirtwaist with a gentle, rounded collar, a delicate pearl pendant at her throat, and matching yellow pumps. Gone are the vibrant colors and rich fabrics that formerly encased her large, seductive form, gone are the scarlet heels that announced that this was not a woman to trifle with. And sure enough, for all her beauty, Novak looks silly in that dress. The bulk that was so suberbly set off in burgundy velvet looks foolish in the demure clothing of a chastened woman. The physical qualities that made Novak so believable when dressed as the powerful witch, make her look awkward dressed as the Little Woman. The outfit emphasizes not that Gil is now "human", so much as safely contained. The transformation of the shop, and the new clothes, make a wistful comment on the diminishment that Gillian has had to accept to be worthy of love.
Thus, for all its charm and lightness, the ending of "Bell, Book and Candle" always makes this reviewer feel a bit sad, and raises some questions about our attitudes toward women, authenticity, and power. The film's position on those questions, and its warning to women, are clear.
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