The Awful Truth

I can’t speak for anyone else, but romantic comedies are a delight. Well, they’re a delight when they’re done well. Over the ever-changing history of cinema, the genre of the rom-com has evolved and become brilliant in a great many ways: musicals, sharp-wit banter, and battles of the sexes. But the key ingredient to a classic rom-com is the cast chemistry, it always has been and I believe always will be. In The Awful Truth, Carey Grant and Irene Dunne put their names alongside those of Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy and Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence in my book as a classic rom-com couple. 

The film tells the story of Jerry (Grant) and Lucy (Dunne), a married couple deciding on divorce as each is convinced of infidelities on the other’s part. During the last sixty days of their marriage, tensions and screwball shenanigans run high as the two fight over custody of the dog, Lucy sparks a relationship with a country bumpkin, Jerry retaliates with a public courtship of an heiress, and the two realise they still love each other. 

Cinematic legend has it that the script of this movie, which is absolutely delightful, was practically improvised from start to finish. A social commentary in a number of ways, most of the film’s charm and humour comes from its hit-and-bat-back screenplay. The banter between Grant and Dunne is classic, not necessarily having the razor wit of Hepburn and Tracy, but providing most of the laughs as the two playfully and competitively try to get back at each other and have the last word. 

Not only is the institution of marriage put under the comedic microscope and spun into a new shape, the film also takes jabs at the conflicts between middle class and higher society as well as the opposition of Southerners and New Yorkers. The class and culture clashes are glorious and only highlighted by memorable performances such as Ralph Bellamy as sweet and slow-witted Daniel from Oklahoma, and Dunne’s nasally and camp rendition of a middle-class musical tease. 

Dominating the larger portion of the film is the fabulous achievements in costume design as well as large and grandiose sets. Both these things work in a very subtle, but nevertheless funny way as they serve as a backdrop against which all the fighting, bickering, and gossiping takes place and it’s only when the film turns into a road trip, removing the leads from the glamour and society and leading them to a cabin in the woods, that the heart and love comes out. The power of the backdrop is not something that we consciously think about, but it’s always working and it’s only in films such as this where we really notice and can appreciate it. 

As for the two leads, Grant and Dunne are perfect together. Four years later, the two would be traversing a similar, albeit more dramatic, path in Penny Serenade, but here is where they earn their stripes. Grant swans through the movie full of speeches and overblown sincerity, never at a loss for words until the very end. Dunne is “half sweet and half acid” (to borrow a phrase from Gentlemen Prefer Blondes), but all in an appealing and charming way. The two bounce off each other beautifully, putting on quite a show until the last half-hour of their marriage when suddenly there’s no more audience. 

As rom-coms go this stands the test of time, using tricks and techniques that remain relevant to this very day. 

Starring: Carey Grant, Irene Dunne, Ralph Bellamy, Molly Lamont, Alexander D’Arcy, Cecil Cunningham, Esther Dale, Joyce Compton, Robert Allen, Robert Warwick, and Mary Forbes 

Produced: 1937, Columbia Pictures 

Rating: G