What in end does it matter to human happiness whether [Fred Astaire's] trousers do or do not have cuffs? -Bruce Babington and Peter William Evans, Blue Skies and Silver Linings1 In my formulation: eternal is in any case far more ruffles on a dress than some idea. -Walter Benjamin, B [Fashion]2 A Funny Thing Happens . . . For a brief moment, an accidental encounter between a Wall Street tycoon and an unsuspecting working girl takes on spectral eeriness of a surrealist nightmare. A fur coat, thrown from a Fifth Avenue penthouse roof during a marital spat, assumes shape of an ominous, bat-like creature. An overhead shot captures coat as it slowly descends and seems to envelop an oncoming bus. To extent that it triggers coincidental meeting on which plot depends, this moment is central to script. But its appearance as a slow, almost dream-like, unmotivated overhead shot is incongruous with fast-paced screwball action that precedes it. Indeed, it is quite jarring, making it appear excessive and therefore virtually extra-diegetic. That feeling, however, lasts only for a moment. Cut to a medium shot of Jean Arthur riding on double-decker bus as coat falls on her head, and plot soon resumes, unfolding through a series of comic adventures that almost causes stock market to collapse. What do we make of this strange moment appearing unexpectedly in a screwball comedy? Of madcap comedies released during mid-1930s, Mitchell Leisen's Easy Living (US, 1937), a standard studio written by Preston Sturges, was hardly most ingenious. It was neither as fresh as Frank Capra's It Happened One Night (US, 1934) nor as lively as Gregory La Cava's My Man Godfrey (US, 1936). Although Paramount marketed it as a Sturges comedy, trying to capitalize on sensation he had created as a screenwriter in Hollywood with scripts like The Power and Glory (William K. Howard, US, 1933) and Diamond Jim (Edward Sutherland, US, 1935), was not a commercial or critical success.3 Still, as James Harvey reminds us, everyone remembers moment when the fur coat falls on heroine's head.4 This is ironic because Sturges himself did not even believe moment could be filmed. In script, he suggests that once coat is hurled over parapet, the will probably not pick up.5 But moment did make it to screen, and what intrigues me about it is that it appears in excess. While fur coat is a crucial plot device, it its function. Writing about material of film that surpasses its motivation, Kristin Thompson has argued that cinematic excess surfaces when narrative function may justify presence of a device, but it doesn't always motivate specific form that individual element will take.6 Likewise, fur coat moment from Easy Living is visually extra-diegetic. Its surreal appearance necessities of its screwball narrative; plot would work just as well without that shot. If were to advance from shot of balcony where coat is hurled to medium shot when coat falls on Jean Arthur's head, missing falling shot would not affect our understanding of scene. Yet, fur coat was filmed, and as such, it signifies well in excess of its dramatic content.7 In that sense, it functions like Roland Barthes' description of moment when two courtiers are pouring gold over young czar's head in Sergei Eisenstein's Ivan Grozny I/Ivan Terrible (RU, 1944). There is something in visual detail of courtiers' make-up, Barthes suggests, that is erratic-something that exceeds copy of referential motif, [such that] it compels an interrogative reading.8 The shot of fur coat is similarly incongruous because it is excessive. Unlike look of rest of Easy Living, here, in an instant, a fur coat suddenly appears foreboding, and, for a moment, a screwball comedy seems to surreptitiously encounter surreal. …
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