FOUR MEN AND A PRAYER (1938)
Starring: Loretta Young, Richard Greene, George Sanders, David Niven, C. Aubrey Smith, J. Edward Bromberg, William Henry, John Carradine, Alan Hale, Reginald Denny, Berton Churchill, Barry Fitzgerald
Writers: Richard Sherman, Sonya Levien & Walter Ferris (based on the novel by David Garth)
Cinematography: Ernest Palmer
Editor: Louis R. Loeffler
B&W, 1h 25m. 1.37:1 presentation.
Released on: April 29, 1938 by Twentieth Century Fox.
My experience: Ford at Fox DVD box set
I really had a lot of fun with this one, but tonally the film is all over the place. It's got suspense, intrigue, adventure, and it can be a barrel of laughs at times. All great assets to have, no doubt. But when a scene where a group of revolutionaries being gunned down in cold blood is sandwiched between David Niven doing a Donald Duck impression and a scene taken from straight from the screwball comedy playbook, one can be forgiven for lifting a critical eyebrow and looking a little askance!
The four men referred to in the film's title are the sons of disgraced British colonel Loring Leigh (C. Aubrey Smith), who has been cashiered out of the military for supposedly wilfully leading his troops into a slaughter. Wyatt (George Sanders) is a barrister in London; Geoffrey (Richard Greene) is a diplomat in the British embassy in Washington D.C.; Christopher (David Niven) is a playboy aviator; and the youngest, Rodney (William Henry), is a college student at Oxford. Colonel Leigh calls them all home to their residence at St. John-Cum-Leigh to ponder how to proceed. Before they can get very far, he is found dead in his study. Officially ruled a suicide, the boys know the truth that he was murdered, and they set about following any and all leads to prove it.
Geoffrey's somewhat ignored main squeeze, Lynn Cherrington (Loretta Young), has a habit of popping up wherever he is, if only to get him to pay her some attention, and finds herself getting mixed up in all of this. But does she have her own agenda? Her father, Martin Cherrington (Berton Churchill) is one of the owners of Atlas Arms, a company responsible for manufacturing the weaponry which led to the slaughter of the late colonel's troops. While Wyatt and Rodney search India for clues by interviewing people like trooper Mulcahay (Barry Fitzgerald) who might have known their father, Geoffrey and Christopher follow their leads to South America, where they meet Captain Loveland (Reginald Denny), who came into a bit of money and moved to Buenos Aires, leading industrialist Furnoy (Alan Hale), and General Torres (J. Edward Bromberg), a bandit turned revolutionary who is involved in purchasing weapons from Atlas Arms. A counter-revolution appears to be taking place, led by General Adolfo Arturios Gregario Sebastian (John Carradine). All road lead not to Rome but Egypt in this story, before the curtain falls on our tale.
This film is quickly paced and packs a lot of story into its less than 90 minute running time, thanks to some judicious editing by Ford and his cutter Louis Loeffler. The entire tribunal that sets off the plot AND the introduction of Leigh's four sons happens within the first ten minutes, and this pace continues consistently. A man falls out of a car dead in the driveway of the Leigh residence, and that's all we need to take us to the next scene; no fat on the bone here. This helps uphold the jaunty feeling the film has, as we travel from London to India to islands off the coast of South America, to Egypt with no problem whatsoever. For filmgoers in 1938, this must have been like watching a James Bond movie 25 years before the 007 films became synonymous with globetrotting adventure.
And while the lighthearted, adventuresome spirit persists throughout the film, there are a couple of detours that stand out as perhaps not inessential story-wise, but tonally off. The first is a scene with Barry Fitzgerald which instigates a barroom brawl by taking offence to being called British by a native. While funny and amusing, this excursion into Three Stooges style chair-throwing comedy is plainly an excuse for Ford to indulge spending time with one of his favourite actors, throwing some barbs at the British in favour of his beloved Irish, and getting some "manly man" action into the scene. It's a quick distillation of everything I didn't like about The Quiet Man.
The other scene that bothered me a little bit is the aforementioned scene involving the revolutionaries. I very nearly got whiplash from the maddening inconsistencies in tonality. Ford and DP Ernest Palmer, who until then had kept their sets lit fairly brightly, all of a sudden indulge themselves in foreboding chiaroscuro lighting, threatening camera angles, and menacing low-angle shots of certain characters. Intentionally, it seems, as one scene on the island has Generals Torres and Sebastian engaging in some morbidly funny dialogue against a wall before the camera pans to a firing squad. Again, nothing wrong with it as a scene, it just feels like it's in the wrong film.
All that being said, I very much liked Four Men and a Prayer. While Indiana Jones probably wouldn't be the first connection one would make to this film, I believe it makes sense -- not for plot reasons, but for the lighthearted tone the film has. There is plenty of humour to be found here, and although referring to it as an out and out comedy would be a stretch, there are long swathes of the picture that are chock full of delicious performances and lines. The actors must have had a grand old time.
A baby-faced David Niven damn near steals the show in this one, with so many priceless gestures and facial tics I was damn near in stitches half the time. The distasteful face he makes when he asks his brother, who has been residing in America, to say, "okay, toots"; the conversations he has in the hybrid voice of "Donald Mouse"; his reactions to Lynn and Geoffrey's PDAs; and physical comedy involving a rather on the nose rubber rat squeak toy. All of them made me snicker to no end. Loretta Young also impresses with her comic timing, from the adorable way she sticks out her tongue after pronouncing St. John-Cum-Leigh ("sinjun cumley") to her flirtatious ways wrapping various men around her finger, to the bewildered way she yelps, "Hey, don't mind me!" when Geoffrey and Christopher walk off without her to follow a lead. Honestly, I have to say I'm a little bit in love with her in this film. The piece is also classed up with the creme de la creme of Hollywood's British acting royalty, all turning in solid performances, especially George Sanders, who handles scenes both light and "actorly" with equal aplomb; his final scene at the end of the film is especially stirring. And I must say I got a kick out of seeing Alan Hale wearing the skipper's hat while on his yacht, especially considering what his son would be getting up to a quarter century later!
With the exception of the aforementioned scenes involving the revolutionaries, John Ford keeps his directorial toolkit pretty empty in this one. It was probably just a film for him to do, and while there are scenes that he subtly augmented (check the key lighting on Niven, Greene and Henry's faces while Sanders toasts their late parents -- the effect is very angelic), for the most part he seems to have been a director for hire here.
I may be going against my better judgment here, but although I recognize Four Men and a Prayer has many flaws, I have to say I really enjoyed it. Dated, to be sure, but sometimes you just need to set aside an hour and a half and have some mindless fun. And this does the job as good as any.
Eight barnstorming brothers out of ten.
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