We have spoken extensively about the concept of the screwball comedy, and this discussion isn’t going to be any different. I have endeavoured to do my best to venture right to the very start of the genre, exploring its origins – and while the general fact of the matter is that the pioneering works would be either It Happened One Night or Twentieth Century (since they were made and released almost concurrently), it is true that the works that followed them are the ones that made the biggest impact, even if these two incredible films are still revered as masterpieces of not only comedy, but of cinema as a whole. Screwball arguably reached its apex only a few years later, at the arrival of My Man Godfrey, in which Gregory La Cava (a formidable director in his own right, even if his status as someone who is slightly forgotten in comparison to masters like George Cukor and Howard Hawks, who are usually considered the gold-standard when it comes to this form of comedy, may make it appear like he is somewhat forgotten as a filmmaker), working with the novel 1101 Park Avenue by Eric S. Hatch (which was in itself a remarkable work for its insightful view of the high society and their inherent hypocrisy), which goes in search of that elusive quality that many comedies at the time were chasing, but very few managed to achieve without stumbling into cliche in some way – and the fact that this film is still revered as an absolute classic should make it clear that it was entirely successful in that endeavour, being a tightly-constructed, effortlessly funny comedy with strong ideas and an even more profoundly moving control of its content, which makes for a profoundly funny and unexpectedly moving critique of a particular class of people, who are so effectively captured in this film. Concise, bitingly funny and always adventurous, even when it doesn’t need to be, My Man Godfrey is a remarkable film, and quite simply one of the greatest comedies ever made.

There is a reason why this filmis viewed as such a landmark work, and they are made abundantly clear from the start. Ultimately, the beauty of a film like My Man Godfrey lies in its simplicity, and it proves that when you have a well-conceived idea, there is very little need for any kind of excess, especially not when it comes to something like the subject of class difference. The storyline is brilliantly straightforward – a homeless man is selected by chance from his home on an isolated dump somewhere in New York City, and asked to accompany a group of wealthy socialites to one of their regular “scavenger hunts” in which they go in search of certain items, such as “forgotten men”, which is what he represents. He is soon hired to be their butler, and eventually proves to be the one person that can help this dysfunctional family seem at least partially normal through the lessons he teaches them along the way. Of course, this is only a surface-level description, but it is the foundation on which the film is constructed, and serves to essentially be the definition of what a solid, well-made film should aspire to be, and how humour can be derived from the most unexpected of places, granted there is substance to what is being said. It doesn’t take the film too much time to establish exactly what it aspires to be, and there are rarely any moments where it feels like a particular joke or scenario lacks purpose and only exists to supplement the film. Each joke is perfectly placed, and the balance of humour with a more tender-hearted, quietly devastating sense of slight melodrama makes for a multilayered comedy in which the comedy is interesting precisely because it is complemented by a more sobering sense of self-awareness that enriches the entire film and makes it so incredibly compelling, rather than just an endless barrage of hilarious jokes that don’t have anything anchoring them into the real world, which is a very important component that only the best comedies tend to acknowledge.

Perhaps it’s a crude comparison, but the only product that sours faster than milk is bad satire, and we have numerous examples over the years of attempts to lampoon a particular concept, but fail dismally as soon as they begin to show signs of age, which is almost immediate in several cases. Mercifully, bad satire doesn’t exist in the popular consciousness for too long (unless it is the rare instance of satire that is so awful that it attains the status of a cult classic, which is not always intentional), and they are eliminated from discussion quite early on, meaning the ones that stand the test of time are usually exceptional, as is the case with My Man Godfrey, which is such a rich, evocative and meaningful work of satirical fiction, it feels almost too elegant to be compared to the more flippant satires that often exist alongside it. This is a film that exists at the bleeding edge of humour, some of its comedy being so subtly scathing, we don’t even recognize it until well into the film, when the cumulative effect of all of these ideas simmering alongside each other becomes more clear to us as viewers. There is a lot of virtue in strong satire, and in looking at something like class difference, the film was already skirting around the edges in a way that not many films at the time would dare. This is only heightened by the fact that, beneath the surface there is a lot of tension that comes from the real-world events that surrounded this film – the United States was still in the heart of the Great Depression by the time this film went into production, and its depiction of poverty was already potentially controversial, but it approaches it with compassion and a genuine thoughtfulness, which is quite unexpected and one of the major reasons the film feels so unique, offering us something that is wickedly funny but not excessive. Good satire is able to provoke without being mean-spirited (or if it is, it usually should have a purpose for this specific approach), and this charming depiction of the clash of feuding classes manages to be sardonic without going too far, which is a vital aspect of an otherwise very simple and enticing dark comedy.

However, very few people walk away from My Man Godfrey commenting on its sharp satire or exceptionally unique approach to the certain subject matter. The most remarkable aspect of the screwball comedy genre is its ability to give us something valuable through the characters more than the stories themselves. Like any good work of humour, it’s not the actual words or situations that entertain us, but the vessels in which they are delivered, which obviously refers primarily to the actors, since its difficult to evoke humour without some kind of individual (whether human or animal) delivering it. In this regard, the film is an absolute triumph, having one of the very best ensembles in the history of the genre, and choosing a standout is a near-impossible task, especially since the power of the film rests in the actors’ ability to work as a collective. Everyone will have a different choice for the best in the film, and the honest truth is that there isn’t any single correct answer – whether you are fond of William Powell’s droll delivery, or Carole Lombard’s effortless brilliance, or find value in the off-the-wall eccentricity of Alice Brady, or the otherworldly peculiarities of Mischa Auer, or the vaguely sinister sense of delightful malice that exudes off Gail Patrick, there is something for everyone in this film (and that isn’t even getting into the smaller players, like the extraordinarily underrated Eugene Pallette, who steals every scene he is in), there is something for everyone contained within this film. I tend to align myself with the group that considers Lombard’s performance in My Man Godfrey to be one of the greatest works of comedy ever produced, with her madcap energy being nothing short of a total revelation, and one of the primary reasons this film feels so deeply refreshing and earnest – and it only makes sense that she’d be a highlight, since she was one of the stars of those early pioneering screwball comedies, with films like Twentieth Century and Love Before Breakfast being excellent examples of her talents, which were truly otherwordly, so much that she is the aspect of this film that we tend to remember the most, even in comparison to an exceptional cast alongside her.

Every moment in My Man Godfrey feels essential, which is exactly what a good comedy should aim for – the humour is fresh and invigorating, and reminds us of the virtue of a story well told, and proving that good comedy is not only finding the right components for your story, but assembling them in a logical and meaningful way, even if the overall intention is to make something outrageous. Comedy doesn’t get more elegant than this film, which makes use of both slapstick humour and caustic wit (occasionally at the same time, making us wonder how someone is capable of combining two wildly different styles into a single moment without it feeling forced) to tell the memorable story of a group of people, each one a distinct character with conflicting personalities, going in search of some deeper meaning, all the while being fervent in their beliefs, which is the source of many of the film’s funniest moments, with the simple details being the most intriguing of them all. Neither the first nor the best screwball, it does feel like My Man Godfrey nonetheless represented a very particular watershed moment for the genre, which was given a new life by this charming morality tale, and which remains as compelling today as it did nearly a century ago. There is a reason why any discussion on the genre – whether introductory or thorough – will always make reference to this film, since it represents absolutely everything that made screwball comedy so brilliant, whether it be the wit, the charm or the incredible fluidity with which these films move. There is such an honesty to them that is difficult to find in contemporary films, which is precisely why they represent a very specific moment in Hollywood’s history, a time when simplicity was a virtue and comedy could strive to be nothing more than a few well-constructed conversations between individuals, from which hilarity would ensue without needing to employ high-concept storytelling. My Man Godfrey is deservedly seen as a masterpiece of the genre, and continues to be evidence to the unimpeachable brilliance of this era, the likes of which we are never likely to see again, due to the simple fact that films like this simply no longer exist, a sad truth but one that only helps emphasize the importance of reflecting on this era as a whole.