PG | 1 h 40 min | Drama, Comedy | 1946
Director Archie Mayo prefaces his fantasy film with a phrase of exposition, “This story is about Eddie Kagle, who based his way of living on what Omar Khayyam once said: ‘Live fully while you may and reckon not the cost.’”
Mayo’s tragicomedy fleshes out both readings, the first in jest, the second in all seriousness.
Fellow gangster, Smiley shoots dead his hedonistic boss-partner Eddie Kagle (Paul Muni), who promptly heads “down” to Hell. Used to cutting deals his whole life, Kagle strikes one last deal even in death, this time with the Devil (Claude Rains), amiably nicknamed “Nick.”
Nick, frantic to up his tally of doomed souls, wants upright Judge Parker “down,” in more ways than one. Nick allows Kagle (Parker’s doppelganger) to inhabit Parker’s body to ruin him and send him to Hell, too, which shouldn’t be too hard given Kagle’s ruinous words and hellish actions. But the stakes are high. Judge Parker, a hero in the town’s eyes, is running for governor.
Kagle heads back up to earth to “wear” Parker’s body for a while, on the condition that he’s free to fire a few bullets back at Smiley, and savor again the “good” life while he’s at it: guns, gals, greenbacks. But Parker’s uprightness is in the way. Also in the way is Parker’s devoted secretary and fiancée, Barbara (Anne Baxter), who’s oblivious to why the “new” Parker now feels more like a hoodlum than a hero.
Screenwriters Harry Segall and Roland Kibbee deploy a metaphor of health. A good man, they suggest, is himself. An evil man is divided against himself; he goes against his essential nature: goodness. Who alerts him to this nature? An angel on his shoulder: someone, like Barbara here, who loves Parker, or his conscience, voiced through those, like the townsfolk here, who respect him.
Implying that Parker (actually, Kagle spewing slang) is ill, trusted butler Albert tells Barbara, “The judge is not himself.” Naturally, she calls the doctor!
Characters From Hell
The sequence depicting Hell is played for irony and laughs. For all its heat, Hell’s a cold place. Its inmates share no warmth, and if anything, are cool to each other. Hot with coal-fed fire already, Nick & Company still struggle to keep temperatures up; it’s never hot enough.Not a hair out of place, Rains is perfect. Suave, impeccably dressed, he looks like some aristocrat waiting for his overdue caviar.
For a leading man, Muni at 5’ 9”, is short, but his swagger, his splayed arms, his fingers ready to bunch into a fist, all tell you he’s a gangster even when he’s in a judicial gown. He also shows you Kagle, slowly, seeing people for themselves, not for what they can give him. He notices them valuing Parker for his noble values, not for judgements he can secure for them in court, or for laws he can shape or execute for them once he’s governor. But Nick’s not about to give up.
Baxter is tender as Barbara, longing for Parker’s benevolence to be amplified on a stage higher than his courtroom. When the doctor asks her to show Parker (a reckless Kagle on the inside) patience, no matter how difficult, she replies, “Nothing’s difficult where Fred’s concerned.”
Some sequences aren’t as funny as intended, yet, the film pretends to magnify Nick’s whisper to Kagle: “make the most of it … deny yourself nothing … blaze like a torch.” Then, it reveals how contrary its message really is. Perhaps it’s because we’ve got only one life that too precious to squander in selfishness. Perhaps our life means anything only when we help or heal others. Perhaps our life isn’t entirely about us after all.
Once, feeling increasingly lost, an anguished Kagle curses his shallowness, “I ain’t got nothin. I ain’t even got myself!” Mayo hints that maybe it’s precisely when Kagle finds himself.
