There were many artists who were unduly ostracised because of their supposed association with communism in the earlier parts of the previous century – the number of incredible individuals who had their careers essentially ended because of the paranoia surrounding the spread of this malicious system is staggering. We lost the opportunity to see some truly astonishing work. One of the casualties of the Hollywood blacklist was Walter Bernstein, a gifted writer who started his career working on a number of acclaimed and wildly successful films but had his career ended due to his left-wing politics stirring suspicion and positioning him as someone who was supposedly sympathetic to the enemy. Mercifully, he did manage to regain some dignity in later years, when he successfully emerged as a writer in the aftermath of these tensions, with The Front being considered one of the most biting satires to ever be made. This is an important preamble since it is important to acknowledge those who had their voices silenced by the system, since very few managed to work their way out of this position. The subject we’re discussing is not his acclaimed satire that served to be an allegory for the tensions he faced, but rather something far more simple but not any less engaging, the wonderful Little Miss Marker, in which he steps behind the camera for the first and only time as a director, endeavour to adapt a short story by Damon Runyon, which was also a Shirley Temple vehicle, which he repurposes into a charming, upbeat comedy that tackles a few fascinating themes, all the while being an absolute delight of a film, in terms of both its message and execution. Funny and heartfelt in equal measure, and driven by a genuine sense of curiosity, the film is a masterful excursion into the past, delivered by someone whose fondness for this kind of material shone through in every frame of the film.

A cursory glance at Bernstein’s credits as a writer and producer shows that he was not interested in one-dimensional stories or concepts that couldn’t be developed into stronger, more engaging works. His overall intention as an artist was to find new ways to tell stories, and he had a fondness for stories set within the working class, particularly in major metropoles at different points in the past. Little Miss Marker tells the story of a notoriously sour gambling bookie, appropriately named Sorrowful Jones, who is unintentionally made the guardian of a young girl, who was abandoned by her gambling addict father before his suicide, and follows our two protagonists as they form a connection and beat the odds that were stacked against them. Even this surface-level description makes it clear that there is something much more profound beneath the exterior of this film, and that Bernstein had many intriguing ideas on how he could develop it to be more than just a simple comedy that is ultimately defined by its eccentricities, but rather a deeply evocative tapestry of ideas. Setting the story in the original era of the 1930s was a good decision, since not only does it play to our inherent sense of nostalgia for the past, but it allows the film to make some bold assertions that would not have been so easily embraced had it been set in a more contemporary period. It also allows for conversations around the Great Depression, and with around half a century since it was at its peak, it seemed like filmmakers could get away with more comedic portrayals of the era, at least within reason. These ideas all blend as Bernstein takes both the story and its prior adaptations, and reconfigures them into a wonderfully endearing and oddly sweet comedy that knows how to deliver its message with precision and honesty, which it does consistently and without a moment’s hesitation.

Little Miss Marker is a film formed from having strong personalities occupying the major roles since this kind of story only benefits great actors that are willing to take on these parts with thorough commitment. You could not find an ensemble better suited to this material than the one we were given, and it is clear that Bernstein had a strong presence in the industry, since he managed to attract quite a cast. Leading the brigade is Walter Matthau, who is an actor that I adore, primarily because of his unique style of acting, as well as his unconventional charm that made him quite a unique actor, someone who could not be more different from the prototypical leading man we have come to expect. His performance here is curiously one of his best, despite it rarely being mentioned alongside the more obvious candidates. The primary reason is that he is playing the kind of role we have seen from him countless times before – a cunning everyman who is interested in earning a living through the most dubious means, but who has a heart of gold and a set of principles that make him a very engaging lead. However, it is what he does with the role that makes this such a memorable performance and every detail is captivating and enthralling. He is joined by the always brilliant Julie Andrews, who is decidedly more subdued here as the moral compass of the film, and with memorable supporting performances by Tony Curtis (who makes for a fantastic villain), Brian Dennehy, Lee Grant and in a scene-stealing performance that almost takes over the entire film, the brilliant Bob Newhart, who is the perfect patsy for Matthau. Everyone works together in tandem to bring the 1930s to life in this delightful parable, and you would not be able to find a single weak performance in this film, not even from Sara Stinson in her only screen credit as the titular child, whose relationship with Matthau is the heart of the story.

There comes a point in Little Miss Marker that we find the humour becoming increasingly rare, and it is instead replaced with a slightly more sombre tone, which is quite unexpected for a film that positions itself as an upbeat comedy. Bernstein was a master of atmosphere, and he could make the most serious subject seem lighthearted, and conversely add layers of drama into some of the more outrageous concepts with which he worked. Several aspects of this film could qualify as being the foundation of a far more dramatic work – at its core, it is a story that touches on economic despair, mental health, organized crime and social division – and Bernstein is not interested in trivializing any of these themes to get a laugh. Instead, he curates moments of humour that he can use to obscure these slightly more sobering ideas until they are necessary, which is why the film feels so surprising and unique. We can’t ever quite tell in which direction it is heading for the most part (while still knowing that it will ultimately have a happy ending), and the director ensures that we are always invested in whatever surprising developments he has in store for us. It’s a fascinating film that unravels in surprising ways, and its melancholic tone helps create an atmosphere that is sincere and meaningful, while still being quite profound in terms of meaning and intention, never losing the spark of charm that makes it such a delight, but also ensuring that it handles its emotions with honesty and sincerity, which is one of the primary reasons why the film feels like such a radical success, and why it never fails to keep us engaged and interested, even at its most complex.

Little Miss Marker is quite a film, and we find that many of its most interesting qualities are those that aren’t promised at the start, but rather emerge as the story unfolds. In terms of both narrative and atmosphere, there are many surprises to be found throughout the film – archetypes are subverted, fascinating themes are explored and the overall experience becomes much more thrilling through the gradual deconstruction of some common ideas. This is all the work of a filmmaker whose fascination with the human condition was only matched by his fondness for genre films of a bygone era, so it naturally combined to form this film, an eccentric pastiche of the wacky comedies of the 1930s that is covertly a social parable about the trials and tribulations of ordinary people who will do anything to survive, and how the most desperate situations often result in ingenuity. It is an unexpectedly complex film, but it never loses its comedic edge, and we find that it benefits from such an approach, the humour interweaving with the melancholy to create a complex and deeply captivating experience that is solidly entertaining and also deeply thought-provoking. Earnest and heartfelt, and bitingly funny in a way that feels entirely genuine, Little Miss Marker is an absolute triumph, a gem of a film that has inexplicably been forgotten, despite its incredible cast, fantastic script and genuine admiration for certain subjects, all of which are blended to create this wonderfully quirky and deeply moving account of the past and the people that set the foundation for future generations.