While he was more known for his experimental work in horror and science fiction, where he intended to push the medium to its literal breaking point (including employing the use of practical effects in the cinemas themselves to make the experience all the more immersive for the unsuspecting audience), William Castle did do his fair share of work in other genres. These films may not have been particularly good or all that memorable, but they are notable for a number of reasons, not only the fact that they are drawn from one of the most demented cinematic minds of his generation. Based on a cheap but relatively entertaining comic novel that went by the title Eddie and The Archangel Mike (which places more emphasis on the character of Mike, who is here relegated to the position of the narrator in the bookending scenes of the film), the film tells the story of two lonely individuals that encounter each other while on the road between Texas and New York, the former being the home they couldn’t wait to escape, the latter the paradise they can’t wait to meet – and along the way, they come into contact with a variety of bizarre characters that teach them valuable lessons, and show them the virtue of finding the silver lining in any situation. If this sounds off-colour for a Castle film, it certainly is intended to be that way, especially since it doesn’t take long to make it abundantly clear that every moment in Texas, Brooklyn and Heaven is meant to be challenging our expectations in some way, which is a peculiar choice for a seemingly upbeat romantic comedy made during an era when the genre was at its peak. However, as is often the case with the director, we always need to expect the unexpected, and the thrill of discovering just how far he is willing to go with this material is all part of the charm that propels this fascinating and compelling film.

From its introductory moments, we can tell that Texas, Brooklyn and Heaven was made by someone desperate to break out of the studio-mandated shackles that prevented him from fully deconstructing the medium. Castle had a penchant for mischief, and his masterpieces were those that came when he was free to do whatever he felt was necessary to give the audience an experience. However, even with constraints, Castle was able to put his own mark on any story, and this film proves his incredible skill to take even the most conventional of stories and turn them into something interesting, even if it is far from the work he was doing at his peak. This film plays exactly how you would expect a screwball comedy directed by Castle to unfold – the characters are as eccentric as they can be before it becomes absurd, the humour is filled with double entendres, and nothing quite works in the way it should. It also feels as if Castle was presented with a list of cliches and conventions tied to the genre that he had to infuse into the film, and he chose to do so by presenting each one slightly off-centre, whether it be the meet-cute being even more arbitrary than it usually tends to be, the use of stock characters in unconventional ways, or the simple fact that the story takes many unexpected turns – but it all serves the same purpose, as it leads to the exact happy ending we would have received had a more appropriate director been chosen to helm the film. It is difficult to appreciate just how far Castle goes to challenge the genre, since it isn’t done in explicit ways, but rather through the subtle details that begin to accumulate until we can’t avoid noticing something is slightly different about nearly every aspect of this film – this is where Texas, Brooklyn and Heaven is most effective, and the reason it feels like such a triumph, even when it is relatively quite simple in both theory and execution.

Much of the enjoyment that comes from watching a film like Texas, Brooklyn and Heaven comes in the knowledge that the studio likely put several obstacles in Castle’s way, and the methods he took to circumvent or entirely remove these obstacles can be very entertaining, granted we are at least aware of his style of filmmaking. Perhaps the most blatant attempt at getting the director to do something far simpler was the decision to cast Guy Madison and Diana Lynn as the leads. Both were very gifted actors, but they don’t inspire much excitement, since they nearly always played very simple, straightforward characters that were defined by the script, and nothing else. Yet, somehow Castle still brings out their hidden eccentricities and has them portray these characters with a kind of fascinating, unconventional charisma that I’m not even sure the actors themselves knew they had. They are both terrific – there isn’t much you can do to elevate these characters beyond being thin archetypes, and the source material doesn’t give too much flexibility in terms of developing them (not that Castle was particularly concerned with being adherent to the original text at all), but there are some fascinating choices made throughout the film that keep us engaged. Credit must also be given to the supporting cast, with Florence Bates in particular being an absolute delight – finally allowed to step away from playing old patrician crones and high society dowagers, she is a breath of fresh air in a film that benefited from such an unexpectedly energetic performance from someone who had previously been shoehorned exclusively into playing far less interesting characters. James Dunn and Michael Chekhov also have strong moments, and they all add to a fantastic ensemble that anchors this film and keeps it endearing, even when it is slightly more unconventional.

It would be foolish to take Texas, Brooklyn and Heaven all that seriously, since this is essentially nothing more than a delightfully peculiar curio of a film, and one that pays a lot of attention to giving us an experience we haven’t encountered yet, rather than being entirely original in terms of the story being told. This is not a film that is well-remembered by any particular group – for adherents to Castle, it is viewed as one of the more restrictive experiences that the director had to endure, and for fans of the actors, it is a change of pace from their otherwise very conventional persona (likely, someone who cites themselves as a Guy Madison or Diana Lynn fan may not be particularly fond of how this film portrays them, since it is far sillier than the work that they are best known for), and overall, in terms of screwball comedies, it is a bit of an obscurity, a small but entertaining romantic comedy that delivers exactly what it offers and not much else. There is a certain intelligence that anchors the film that keeps it so engaging and entertaining, and the most striking sense of enjoyment comes when we realise this is not a film that should be taken particularly seriously in any case. Yet, we can’t help but feel bewitched by this very strange film, and one has to wonder whether we would have gotten more of these gonzo, off-the-wall romantic comedies had more eccentric directors been tasked with helming them. Perhaps the idea of experimenting with style was a later development in Hollywood, but at least this film gives us a brief glimpse into what it could have looked like, which is certainly not anything to be dismissed, since the endearing sense of humour, biting wit and genuine earnestness that underpins this film is what propels it forward and keeps us interested, which is all that was required for this wonderfully delightful and eccentric dark comedy.