Summer Under the Stars 2011 -- Day Two Review: Nothing But the Truth

Nothing But the Truth (1941) is one of those films you forget about fifteen minutes after you watch it, but every now and again, isn’t that exactly the kind of film you want to see? The premise is simple: A stockbroker played by Bob Hope makes a bet he can tell the truth for twenty-four hours or else lose the ten thousand dollars given to him by a flighty rich girl (Paulette Goddard). Hilarity ensues, especially after he falls in love with Goddard’s character and has to try and impress her while simultaneously telling her family and friends exactly what he thinks of them. Citizen Kane it ain’t, but it’s a pleasant enough way to spend an afternoon.

I chose Nothing But the Truth primarily for Goddard, but make no mistake: it is first and foremost Bob Hope’s film. The story is built around his comedy, and he is in nearly every scene, whereas Goddard drifts in and out, acting sweetly daffy in a part better suited for an actress like Carole Lombard. I love Goddard, but she’s at her best playing a smart woman whose charisma makes up for her tendency to manipulate the people around her, as in The Women and An Ideal Husband. As far as early-40s romantic comedies go, I much preferred her in The Crystal Ball (1943).

Most people today know Paulette Goddard, if they know her at all, as the Gamin in Charlie Chaplin’s gorgeous Modern Times, which is both a buoy and a detriment to her legacy: she is radiant in Modern Times, but she is also a typical Chaplin love interest, pretty and sympathetic and…silent. In real life she was intelligent and quick-witted, traits that attracted Chaplin to her in the first place and resulted in their being married—or maybe married—for roughly six years. (Legend has it that she lost the role of Scarlett O’Hara in Gone with the Wind because of her and Chaplin’s ambiguous marital status, but having seen the screen tests for GwtW, I’d say she and every other actress lost the part mainly because Vivien Leigh was so obviously the right choice.) Goddard’s best parts are those in which she gets to demonstrate her flair for snappy delivery and infusing otherwise selfish characters with warmth and humor; I would recommend Dramatic School (1938), which she steals from lead actress Luise Rainer, and So Proudly We Hail! (1943), which features one of the best slap-fights in cinematic history.



Goddard was never given much chance as a dramatic actress, and once her looks started to fade, so did she—she left films in the early fifties and moved to Europe with her fourth husband, the novelist Erich Maria Remarque. She never had to act; thanks to a series of lucrative divorce settlements, she was rich when she entered Hollywood and she was rich when she left (smart woman, like I said). The fact that TCM placed her right beside Bette Davis in their Summer Under the Stars scheduling is an interesting juxtaposition—if Davis was the requisite performer, the actress who wouldn’t leave the screen even after a stroke late in life affected her ability to speak, then Goddard was simply a hard worker who did what she could while she was able and then made a quick retreat. Davis is the icon, but Goddard has an impressive film legacy all her own.

Grade: B