There is nothing quite as emotionally crippling as being in a family with expectations much larger than one could ever hope to achieve. Unfortunately, most of us tend to have experience with this, since we often are burdened with the responsibility of achieving everything that our parents and ancestors failed to do, which can be quite a daunting experience. However, it can also prove to be motivation to forge your own bespoke path and bring honour to your family in a very different way – and this is what we find serves as the foundation for Dear Brigitte, in which Henry Koster (one of the great journeyman filmmakers of his generation, and someone responsible for some of the greatest works of the Golden Age of Hollywood) takes the novel Erasmus with Freckles by John Haase (whose own novel Petulia was both a terrific sensation on its own, as well as being turned into an exceptional film), and adapts it into a delightfully irreverent, off-the-wall comedy that is as heartwarming as it is bitingly funny. The story follows the Leaf family, who live on a houseboat in San Francisco – patriarch Robert is a grouchy poet who has recently been fired from his comfortable university job, while his wife Vina tries to hold the family together. Their daughter is enjoying being a high school senior with a burgeoning social life, while their young son much prefers his own interests, namely writing to Brigitte Bardot, the object of his affections. When the boy is discovered to be a mathematical prodigy, his arts-loving parents go from disappointment at his choice of interest to realising that his talent can be beneficial, particularly when it comes to creating a foundation designed to help those in the arts. However, it doesn’t take long for the family’s plot to become more convoluted than anyone would imagine, leading to a series of misadventures from which they barely escape. A charming and very funny film that may not be particularly serious, but has enough heart and soul to sustain our interest, Dear Brigitte is a fantastic film, and one of the many tremendous works helmed by Koster over his lengthy but noteworthy directorial career.

Family tends to be a subject openly embraced by cinema – not only is it universally resonant, but there are so many different configurations and familial structures, as well as a number of embedded themes, that facilitate a seemingly infinite number of bespoke stories based around such a common concept. It’s not always particularly engrossing or innovative cinema, but it does tend to be very charming when it is done well, as we see in the case of Dear Brigitte, which is built on very familiar ideas, but finds interesting ways to explore them without coming across as overly trite or one-dimensional, which is a major benefit and one of the many reasons this film warrants celebration. The heart of the film is formed from the idea I mentioned at the start – even the most loving parents tend to hold very harsh expectations of their children, who are usually put into positions where they are seen as failures if they are not following exactly what their parents envision for their lives – and its difficult to rebel against such situations when we know that their concern and desire is built squarely from their hopes of giving their children a better life than their own. Koster is not particularly interested in the more sombre conversations around parent-child conflict or the unbearable weight of expectations, and instead chooses to filter these ideas into a more comical exploration of family dynamics, taking quite an unexpected turn by asking a very simple question: are artistically-inclined parents disappointed when their offspring show aptitude in more formal fields, such as science, technology or mathematics? It’s a charming concept, and creating a story about a father who is so obsessed with his children following him into a career in the arts that the very idea of his son being one of the great mathematical prodigies of his time causes him undue stress and results in some outrageously funny examples of playful conflict between the pair. It’s a terrific inversion of common tropes, and Koster does exceptionally well to challenge conventions, crafting an engaging and unforgettable narrative that is as intriguing as it is heartwarming, a trademark of many of his films.

One of the great joys of watching many films produced during this era of Hollywood is the number of major actors who gleefully and without even an ounce of hesitation agreed to participate in projects that many would consider below their talent or time. James Stewart was undeniably one of our greatest actors, and something that made him arguably the most likable performer in the history of the medium (with only a few people being able to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him in that regard) was his willingness to participate in a wide range of films, some of which carried themselves with an air of prestige, others being targeted at more populist audiences, and in both cases, he consistently delivered exceptional work. A film like Dear Brigitte certainly didn’t require Stewart to engage in the most complex style of performance, but he nonetheless commits entirely to the premise of the film, and brings a character that would be unlikable in the hands of many other actors to life in a way that is engaging, heartwarming and effortlessly funny. The supporting cast is also tremendous – Glynis Johns delivers career-best work as the level-headed matriarch who is quite literally the pillar of her family, Bill Mumy is the adorable young protagonist whose intelligence is the catalyst for most of the film’s events, Ed Wynn is delightfully superfluous as the on-screen narrator, and Brigitte Bardot somehow proves that her best work comes when she is playing herself, since she actually proves to be quite charming in this film (undoubtedly a result of the film having a sub-plot built entirely around her as a sex symbol and cultural icon), and even the smaller supporting parts prove to be quite lovely. There is something so delightful about a film that is willing to just give great actors the chance to have some fun, and this is one of the more charming examples of this in practice.

Part of the appeal of Dear Brigitte ­­- as with most of Koster’s films – is their emotional earnestness and maturity. These are films built from quite a solid conceptual foundation, but where the intelligence is not the driving factor, but rather the execution of their core ideas. It is not enough to have a great concept; a film needs to be guided by a steady hand that understands that a good story only matters when it is given the appropriate amount of compassion and sincerity in terms of its tone. The result is a film that intends to be extremely funny, but not at the expense of the more tender emotions that are equally important. The tone of Dear Brigitte is not difficult to pinpoint – there’s a sense of honesty that pulsates throughout, even at its more heightened and outrageous moments, which creates a very charming balance between different styles of humour (the film makes use of both witty wordplay, satirical jabs and slapstick comedy, being a well-rounded piece of humour that excels in every area), as well as never neglecting the softer and quieter moments, such as those relating to the deeper conversations on family, identity and the importance of standing firm as a unit, defying the oppositional forces and making the most of every challenge. It’s delightfully offbeat filmmaking, and something that Koster mastered throughout his wonderful career, particularly in how he could simultaneously handle both off-the-wall humour and more downbeat, melancholic pondering – and while Dear Brigitte is certainly more comedic than the softer and more subtly pleasant The Bishop’s Wife or Harvey (films that have a lot of levity, but tend to veer more towards soft drama more than oddball comedy), there are many moments where it proves to be a lot more attentive to the more complex nuances of the human condition than we may initially expect, leading to a film that is as deeply entertaining as it is moving.

Dear Brigitte is not entirely well-remembered, even if it also does have a solid group of fans who find a lot of value in the offbeat humour and oddly touching sense of sentimentality that drives this story forward and makes it so wholeheartedly effective. Its neither the most original nor the most daring film, but it does provide evidence to the idea that some of the more compelling works are not those which attempt to be innovative, but rather recognise their own tonal and structural limitations, and work within these parameters to create something confident and endearing, never sacrificing its identity for the sake of appeasing those who believe that a film can only be effective if it is entirely original. It doesn’t provoke anything we haven’t frequently understood ourselves, but it does offer some delightful insights into the human condition that we may not have initially realised could have been rendered as poetically as it is hilariously. Dear Brigitte prioritises reliability over innovation, and does everything it can to be effective without pushing beyond the boundaries of what it knows it is capable of doing, which is why it carries itself with such self-assurance and deep sincerity, making it clear that it is exactly what it intends to be, and nothing else. Filled with great performances, compelling humour and a lot of complex charms, Koster’s work here is terrific, and offers us more than enough intrigue to make up for its narrative and conceptual limitations.