Never Say Goodbye (1946)

Something that becomes very clear when looking into the Golden Age of Hollywood is that what makes the industry run is the balance between reliability and ambition – they are not mutually exclusive, but we can easily divide the majority of mainstream films into one of the two categories – either, its a film aiming to test the boundaries of what cinema can accomplish or it plays almost entirely by the rules, following conventions to the point of being almost entirely predictable. Neither one can exist without the other (you can’t subvert traditions if said traditions aren’t available to be subverted in the first place), and we see so many examples of the two existing in dialogue with one another, which has continued to be a source of discussion into the present era. This brings us to Never Say Goodbye, a relatively obscure romantic comedy that has been seemingly forgotten, despite being produced by a big studio and featuring some very popular stars (some may argue one of them being amongst the greatest screen icons of the era) – and while it may sound degrading, there have rarely been films more intent on adhering to conventions than this one. Directed by James V. Kern, the film is about as ordinary as they come – but rather than being a source of criticism, it is more a great exemplification of the fact that, even at its most rudimentary, there is merit in films that aim to be more reliable than audacious – and while it isn’t the most effective comedy of its era, it is difficult to not be fond of this lovable romantic romp that never takes itself too seriously.

When it comes to designing a film around one’s actors, there are essentially only two kinds of starring vehicles – the first are those that take place well within that actor’s comfort zone, while the other is focused on pulling them out of that exact spot and forcing them to try something radically different. It’s very clear that Never Say Goodbye occupies the first category, primarily because it is very much built on showcasing Errol Flynn and the distinctive charm that made him one of Hollywood’s most popular actors. It isn’t even a case of the actor having to do what he normally did – this is his first straightforward comedy in many years since he was more inclined towards action and swashbuckler films that challenged him at least physically. This film demands very little of Flynn, almost to the point where it seems like the most effort he needed to put in was arriving on set in the first place, with everything else being centred around his performance, as well as that of Eleanor Parker, albeit to a much lesser extent. Flynn and Parker have remarkable chemistry, which is one of the primary selling points of the film (but also adds to the fact that this was a very predictable film – when you have a film about a divorce starring two actors with such electric chemistry, the resolution is obvious), and they’re supplemented wonderfully by the supporting cast, which includes the adorable young Patti Brady, who plays their meddling daughter, and scene-stealing supporting work from character actors extraordinaire S. Z. Sakall and Hattie McDaniel, who is always a welcome presence in any film. It’s a surprisingly solid ensemble for a film designed primarily to showcase Flynn’s screen presence.

One of the more surprising aspects of Never Say Goodbye is that Kern wrote it in collaboration with a very young I.A.L. Diamond, who was about a decade away from starting his creative partnership with the iconic Billy Wilder, with whom he’d write some of the greatest comedies ever committed to film. This is important to mention, because despite being quite conventional in its sensibilities, Never Say Goodbye does have certain elements that feel like it is hinting at untapped potential. The film is a run-of-the-mill romantic comedy, to the point that we can anticipate absolutely every narrative twist and turn – but it’s in the smaller moments that we find slightly more unpredictable content. Whether drawing on elements that hearken back to the silent era (a particularly memorable sequence includes a mad dash through a gorgeous manor where the protagonist is dressed as Santa Claus), or focusing on certain elements that imply the film was written with a more satirical edge when it comes to the subject of class division and social structure, one has to wonder how much of Never Say Goodbye was more ambitious, and the extent to which the studio (which wanted a very simple and reliable romantic comedy) shaped the construction of the story. It doesn’t mean we necessarily have to dismiss the components that are suitably reliable and interesting all on their own since the film offers a lot of good value taken just as a traditional romantic comedy – it just feels like there was something much deeper that could’ve been done with the material, which is likely very true for most studio-mediated films produced at the time.

Never Say Goodbye is a decent film, and it is one of the many instances where a film doesn’t need to strive to be anything other than consistent to be successful. It’s not hard to see that this was made primarily to bank on Flynn’s enormous popularity, and his performance (while incredibly charismatic) is far from challenging, we have to wonder whether this was just designed to be a very quick way to capitalize on a major star who was still vibrant, but was also growing older, and the kinds of action films he performed at his peak were starting to become somewhat more difficult for him to perform in (although he did have over a decade of solid work still in him), meaning that more simple stories needed to be made to facilitate his growing maturity in an industry where youth is the primary asset of any artist. Regardless, there are many elements of Never Say Goodbye that are incredibly entertaining, and if the viewer is willing to give it a chance, they’ll likely find it to be an outright delight in many different ways, whether it be in the lovable interactions between Flynn and the actress playing his daughter, or the simmering chemistry that exists between the two leads, or simply the sense of community and adoration that comes about quite authentically. It’s not a challenging film, but still, a very compelling comedy that reminds us of the virtue of a story well told, proving that all a good film needs to be is consistent, which is proven in every scene of this otherwise delightful and irreverent little film.

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