NIGHT AND DAY (1946)

To prepare for the new Cole Porter biopic DE-LOVELY, with Kevin Kline as Porter, I watched this earlier version of his life starring Cary Grant. Many people criticize this movie for its almost total fictionalization of Porter's life, especially the ignoring of Porter's homosexuality, but that's a given for a Hollywood biography, especially back in the classic movie era. What's worse is that the movie is boring and indifferently acted, and even the production numbers that are usually the big draw in these show biz biographies are no fun. Grant plays Porter as a law student at Yale who has to break it to his grandfather (Henry Stephenson) that he's quitting the law to become a songwriter. Egged on by law professor Monty Woolley (played by himself) who has show biz ambitions of his own, Grant leaves Yale to chase his dream; he becomes a soldier in the war, is wounded, and marries a family friend (Alexis Smith) who just happened to have enlisted overseas as a nurse. He writes a couple of popular songs, then makes his name as a Broadway tunesmith. The demands of Grant's career alienate Smith, who leaves him. At the height of his fame, he has a riding accident which shatters his legs and, despite dozens of operations, he never fully recovers the use of his legs, but the accident does bring his wife back.

Grant seems very uncomfortable as Porter, in somewhat the same way he seemed uncomfortable as the angel in THE BISHOP'S WIFE, but in WIFE that discomfort worked for the part (an angel uncomfortable with his yearnings for a mortal woman). Here, we're left with a character who seems to be sleepwalking through his life, who expresses very little emotion about his music, about his wife and friends, even about his tragic accident. Smith and Woolley are fine, though underused, and Jane Wyman peps up the movie occasionally as a singer who helps popularize Grant's songs. Porter's great music is wasted in stultifying production numbers that never build up any energy. Mary Martin (also playing herself) has a nice bit singing "My Heart Belongs to Daddy" and Woolley gives a droll rendition of "Miss Otis Regrets," but the movie totally wastes great songs like "Begin the Beguine," "In the Still of the Night," "Just One of Those Things," and most unforgivably, the title song. It feels like Warners was trying to compete with MGM in the glossy musical-bio field, but there really was no comparison. [TCM/DVD]