Alfred
Kralik [played by
James Stewart]: “There might be a lot we don't know about each other. You
know, people seldom go to the trouble of scratching the surface of things to find
the inner truth.”
Klara
Novak (Miss Novak) [played
by Margaret Sullavan]: “Well, I really wouldn't care to scratch your
surface, Mr. Kralik, because I know exactly what I'd find. Instead of a heart,
a hand-bag. Instead of a soul, a suitcase. And instead of an intellect, a
cigarette lighter... which doesn't work.”— The Shop Around the Corner (1940), screenplay by Samson Raphaelson and an
uncredited Ben Hecht, based on a play by Miklos Laszlo, directed by Ernst
Lubitsch
You might know The
Shop Around the Corner for its adaptations—musicals onscreen (In the Good Old Summertime, with Judy
Garland and Van Johnson) and onstage (She
Loves Me), as well as a snarky, not-as-fun Nora Ephron film (You’ve Got Mail). But the original is
worth seeing for its own wonderful sake.
The plot is simple enough: Two clerks at a Budapest gift
shop can barely stand one another, not realizing that they're falling in love
through the mail as each other's anonymous pen pal.
If you are getting tired of watching It’s a Wonderful Life for the umpteenth
time, this film—also starring James Stewart—is a wonderful holiday replacement.
It’s contains a terrific screenplay, subtle direction by the incomparable Lubitsch, great humor and poignancy in equal doses, plenty of opportunities for a terrific ensemble
cast (including “The Wizard of Oz” himself, Frank Morgan) to shine, and one of
the great MGM pairs, Stewart and Margaret Sullavan.
Stewart appeared in this classic the same year as
the movie that won him his only competitive Oscar, The Philadelphia Story. In many ways, his chief clerk here is a trickier role than his flashier award-winning one as cynical reporter Macaulay Connor. Kralik,
a loyal, longstanding employee, is honest to a fault—and, at least on the
surface, to Miss Novak, all too prosaic. Stewart’s pained restraint is
remarkable as he responds to her insult above as a blend “of poetry and
meanness.”
As for Sullavan—I considered her all-too-short
career (and all-too-tragic life) in this prior post. Stewart had many other female co-stars throughout his long
career—some more beautiful, some with more fire—but none as unique as Sullavan.
She may never have been better onscreen as Miss Novak—vivacious, intelligent,
romantic, and, in her need for a job on the eve of the holidays, more than a
bit desperate. Without her, Kralik might be fated to live his life as an
all-too-stolid bachelor, but Miss Novak may be in even more need of the
stability he provides.
Central to Sullavan’s marvelous performance is what
silent film actress-turned-film commentator Louise Brooks pointed to: “That
wonderful voice of hers. Strange, fey, mysterious — like a voice singing in the
snow."
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