September 11th | 5 Movies
The Golden Age of Hollywood was not known for auteur directors. Until Alfred Hitchcock sailed over from England, very few studio contracted directors commanded such weight that their name could sell a picture. There are a few exceptions to that rule – including Frank Capra, John Ford and Charlie Chaplin, though he was also the star of his films. Others broke away from studio molds to create their own unique visions, like William Wyler and Ernst Lubitsch, who became known for the “Lubitsch touch.”
Few directors even waded into producing, but the few that did, Hitchcock included, could be counted among the true auteurs of the Golden Age. Leo McCarey was one of those directors. His films carried a heavy amount of sentiment, recognizable from the raw, though often contained, longing and wants of his central characters. He employed masters of the craft of subtlety. Irene Dunne is perhaps the greatest example of a Leo McCarey lead – Dunne, one of the more modern actresses of her day – her wit quick, her tone even-keeled. She acted with her eyes. A McCarey picture sticks with the characters and lets their eyes – and the heart seen through their eyes – tell the story. It doesn’t matter what genre he is working in, be it the screwball comedies that cemented his name or the more religiously themed work he turned to in the 1940s, McCarey was always about the character.
One of the rare early film personalities that was actually a native of Los Angeles, McCarey graduated with a law degree from the University of Southern California, but didn’t spend much time practicing – instead opting to try a variety of odd jobs before landing a gig as an assistant director to Tod Browning. He landed work as a gag writer at the Hal Roach Studios, and started producing and directing shorts with Charley Chase, who would become his mentor. He became vice-president of production at Hal Roach Studios and was one of the primary creative minds behind the success of Laurel and Hardy.
When the talkies came along, McCarey continued to find his own voice, directing a series of big-budget features with a variety of stars for major studios – most frequently at Paramount with movies like the Marx Brothers’ Duck Soup (1933) and Mae West’s Belle of the Nineties (1934). He continued to make his mark in the comedic genre with the Western-themed Ruggles of Red Gap (1935) and the Harold Llyod-starring The Milky Way (1936).
His emotional Make Way for Tomorrow (1937), an intimate story involving an older couple forced to separate due to familial and financial pressures, was a disappointment at the box office and ended his association with Paramount. That same year, however, he scored his biggest success yet, this time for Columbia. The Awful Truth (1937), starring Irene Dunne and Cary Grant, proved to be one of the popular screwball comedies of the 1930s and landed McCarey his first nomination and win for Best Director at the Academy Awards.
This led to a long and fruitful period for McCarey. One of his greatest triumphs came with 1939’s Love Affair, also starring Dunne, this time paired against Charles Boyer. The romantic story of a couple who meets on a boat and plans to meet again six months later at the top of the Eiffel Tower earned McCarey an Oscar nomination for his writing (Original Story). Such a fan of the film was McCarey that he remade it years later as An Affair to Remember (1957), this time with Grant and Deborah Kerr and the exact same script. Both versions have achieved iconic status in popular culture, so much so that An Affair to Remember is memorably referenced in the Nora Ephron romantic comedy Sleepless in Seattle (1993).
A devoutly religious Catholic, McCarey bridged into more religious themes as he worked longer in film – including some spiritual overtones in Love Affair. He made the Bing Crosby-starring Going My Way (1944), a story about a youthful priest taking over a parish. The movie was a huge hit, and it earned McCarey an Oscar for both his Original Story and his direction. It also won Best Picture of the Year.
A sequel, The Bells of St. Mary’s (1945), followed, with Crosby returning and Ingrid Bergman added to the cast as a nun. This was the first film for McCarey’s own production company. In spite of this film’s success, McCarey slowed down his movie output from this point forward. The comedic Good Sam (1948) was well-received, but his next film – some four years later – an anti-Communist drama entitled My Son John (1952), was a commercial failure, though his story did earn him an Oscar nomination. During this period, McCarey was also a friendly witness for the controversial House Un-American Activities Committee. His last film Satan Never Sleeps (1962), which was also of anti-Communist sentiment, was similarly poorly received. He also made the Paul Newman-Joanne Woodward comedy Rally ‘Round the Flag, Boys! (1958) during his later career. His last Oscar nomination came for writing the Original Song “An Affair to Remember” from his film of the same name.
He died in 1969 at the age of 70, leaving behind a legacy of personal, human and often quite funny pictures. Known for allowing improvisation on set, he was noted by fellow director Jean Renoir for understanding “people better than any other Hollywood director.”
