Frances Mercer

(On Cable TV, January 2020) In retrospective, there was a different James Stewart for every decade. While he never abandoned the likability that made him one of Hollywood’s biggest stars, Stewart played to different strengths every decade. His best 1930s persona was that of the young romantic lead, a bit naïve, pursuing women more sophisticated than his character and over his head most of the time until came a conclusion that made good use of his good nature. In this light, Vivacious Lady is an almost prototypical Steward feature for the 1930s—not the best, but one of Stewart’s earliest starring roles and one that’s just as representative of what he was doing then as anything else. Here he plays a shy intellectual who falls in love with a Manhattan nightclub singer (Ginger Rogers) and marries her after a whirlwind romance. If that setup seems implausible, keep in mind that it’s a mere prelude for the real plot of the film—returning home to his parents, his job, and small-town prejudices. Forced in increasingly contrived situations (such as introducing her as his newest student), Vivacious Lady deftly plays with comic situations and character types, setting up situations to make us anticipate the result, then subverting them slightly for a surprise. Stewart is quite good in the leading role, but Ginger Rogers is just as good opposite him—she gets a few of the film’s biggest laughs, and she shares a slapping/counter-slapping sequence with Frances Mercer that quickly escalates into one of the film’s best scenes. The third act is a bit weaker than the rest, as it finally has to pull all of the subplots together. Still, Vivacious Lady is a pretty good screwball comedy, and it happens to star two of the best-remembered stars of the 1930s. Rumours have it that Rogers and Stewart had an affair while shooting the movie, and some of that energy is clearly perceptible on-screen.