For the Caftan Woman Blogathon: Champagne for Caesar (1950)

In memory of our friend and world class classic film lover and blogger, Paddy, we gather to celebrate her with this, our Caftan Woman Blogathon: Honoring Patricia Nolan-Hall. Click here for links to all participating blogs.

I don't know exactly when Paddy and I first virtually met, but it must've been about ten years ago through the Classic Movie Blog Association. What I remember more clearly is my reaction to her blog name, Caftan Woman, and the tagline under the pink-cheeked caricature of Paddy on her blog header, "Faster than a speeding scooter! Able to leap tall dust bunnies in a single bound! Cozily clad film fan with a blog." Disarmed and charmed by her gentle whimsy was I, and that was before I'd read a word she'd written on classic film.

As for her blog posts, I quickly learned that Paddy's interests were vast and varied, and it wasn't uncommon for my comments on her reviews to run along the lines of, "I haven't seen this in years, you remind me it's time to revisit" or "I haven't seen this, now I'll search it out." But there was the time she posted on a film I not only hadn't seen but that was also completely unknown to me. And it was a film I felt I should've known about, the 1950 comedy Champagne for Caesar. Not long ago, as I once commented on Paddy's blog that I would, I found the film - on the Internet Archive (https://archive.org/details/ChampagneforCaesar_201512) - and watched it for the first time.

Originally, I was surprised I hadn't heard of Champagne for Caesar mostly because of its players; it seemed to me that I should know of any film with these folks in the cast. Caesar stars Ronald Colman, a favorite of mine since a first childhood viewing of A Tale of Two Cities, and whom Paddy described in his Caesar role, "As always...perfect." Co-starring are Vincent Price (delivering, in Paddy's words, a "mad and hysterical performance") and Celeste Holm as femme fatale Flame O'Neill (Paddy: "What a name! What a woman!"). Equally interesting, the film's spoofing of soap-sponsored quiz shows and their hosts, classic character types (tycoon, intellectual, man-trap) and new-fangled, mid-century time saving gadgets and gizmos.

Beauregard Bottomley (Colman) is an unemployed intellectual living with his piano teacher sister (Barbara Britton) in one of those vintage bungalow court apartments that were at one time scattered throughout Los Angeles (also seen in In a Lonely Place, The Grifters, etc.). As ever, Colman's character is urbane and and quietly dashing. Bottomley is also quite arrogant about his intellect and knowledge, though he admittedly hasn't managed to master "how to make a buck" yet.

The story takes off when Beauregard and sister Gwenn go for a walk and happen upon a TV set in the window of a nearby store. A large crowd has gathered outside to watch the quiz show "Masquerade for Money," a game for which contestants dress in costumes (i.e., Cleopatra) and compete for money by answering questions about the person/thing their costume represents. Beauregard is appalled at this tacky spectacle, foreseeing the decline of civilization in such lowbrow fare, but Gwenn appreciates the fun in it and finds the game show host, Art Linkletter as Happy Hogan, appealing.

Shortly, job-poor Beauregard is sent by the state employment agency on an interview for a research job with Milady Soap, coincidentally the sponsor of "Masquerade for Money." While waiting to meet the CEO, Beauregard prowls the waiting area, a room that seems a slightly less manic black-and-white precursor to PeeWee's Playhouse for, as Paddy remarked in her review, the place "looks as if Dr. Seuss was hired as interior designer." As it turns out, the decor reflects the head of the company, Burnbridge Waters (Price), an eccentric oddball who imagines himself a genius and doesn't hesitate to say so. Genteel Beauregard and overbearing Burnbridge, who is dismissive of intellectuals and "dreamers," naturally do not hit it off and this sets Mr. Bottomley on a path to take his revenge on the man and his company via "Masquerade for Money."

And so, Beauregard Bottomley appears as a guest on the quiz show costumed as an encyclopedia and, when not trading barbs with the program's smarmy host, correctly answers question after question after question - and refuses to leave the program when he has hit the prize money limit ($160). Beauregard's scheme is to win every cent of Milady Soap's money and thereby kill two birds with one stone: make a vault full of money for himself and bankrupt Burnbridge Waters' company. When the soap company's attempts to toss Beauregard off the show fail, Burnbridge eventually resorts to what he believes is a fail-safe solution, sending in irresistible and brainy Flame O'Neill (Holm) to seduce and utterly befuddle Mr. Bottomley once and for all.

While the send up of quiz shows, character types and mid-century geegaws is prescient and amusing, it is the performances that shine in Champagne for Caesar. Ronald Colman is indeed perfect as scholarly Beauregard Bottomley. In what could have been an insufferable role, Colman is a winning protagonist, with much credit going to his low-key dapper grace and that famously rich "velvet" voice of his. Vincent Price has a field day as an out-of-touch, over-the-top CEO, and it isn't much of a leap from Burnbridge Waters to what became Price's later specialty, a series of wildly camp turns for Roger Corman and others. And then there's Celeste Holm, best known for the calm, cool, collected ladies in supporting roles she usually portrayed. As "Flame," Holm has a chance to have some fun and plays the vampy part of a whip-smart seductress to the hilt. One wishes she'd broken type more often.

It's not Lubitsch and it's not Sturges, but Champagne for Caesar, directed by Richard Whorf (Yankee Doodle Dandy), is a well-cast, amiable light satire from a moment of relative innocence - the time before scandal. For those who don't remember or aren't aware of the scandals, Robert Redford's Quiz Show (1994) revisits the most memorable of them, the late '50s revelation that the popular primetime TV quiz program, Twenty-One, was rigged and that its celebrated winner, handsome Columbia University professor Charles Van Doren (Ralph Fiennes) - very much a Beauregard Bottomley type, had cheated. This was something Champagne for Caesar did not foresee and perhaps could not, for Beauregard, who knew everything, would never resort to cheating.

Oops...I nearly forgot about the Caesar of the title. Caesar is a parrot Beauregard found in the street and brought home. The bird's previous owner taught him foul language and a liking for booze. Voice wizard Mel Blanc (Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, et al) provided Caesar's blasphemous outbursts. It may not have been a big part for the parrot, but still it was the title role...

Thanks to all who are participating in this blogathon tribute to Paddy. As all who knew her will agree, she was - and is - much beloved and is terribly missed. Please visit her blog here, delight guaranteed.