Set in Europe at the end of World War II, War Bride is a romantic comedy detailing the travails of a dueling french captain (male) and an American lieutenant (female) forced to work together. The story is that of two journeys: a professional mission from army headquarters to Bad Nauheim and a personal mission from love towards marriage and togetherness, (impeded by army regulation and societal expectation).The title suggests a broad, slapstick farce. But while the film has slapstick elements, it's actually a lighthearted romantic comedy that wrestles thoughtfully with changing gender roles during the World War II era .
Sheridan is an absolutely modern woman here, even by today's standards. An army lieutenant working in translation, she's direct, capable, good- natured and inventive. She pilots a motorcycle and speaks multiple languages. She wears both skirts and pants with equal aplomb (though never an evening gown). Her army co-workers, male and female, treat her with evident respect (gender doesn't seem to be an issue in this version of the army). And the best part is that she falls into none of the current tropes of the professional woman-- she isn't lonely, uptight, workaholic, or controlling. Instead she is warm, funny Ann Sheridan, whose big, sensual laugh punctuates the film. That laugh could serve as a Howard Hawks emblem- a sexy open-hearted guffaw in the face of each frustration and trial, reminding us of Hawks ethos: Do your duty but never take anything too seriously--- not work, not romance, not regulations.
Cary Grant is equally likable and compelling. And he is the hinge of the piece, the character who must face the most discomfort and do the most changing. It's difficult to imagine any other actor making this part so believable and so sympathetic. Cary Grant's filmic masculinity is varied and fluid. He is libidinous, virile, blundering and boorish. He is also elegant, sly, sensitive and sheepish. He is, perhaps, a masculine version of the fluid eternal feminine, perfectly suited to a film that eventually suggests male identity need not be absolute. Grant's masculinity can tolerate being humbled and changed without being denatured.
Sheridan is an absolutely modern woman here, even by today's standards. An army lieutenant working in translation, she's direct, capable, good- natured and inventive. She pilots a motorcycle and speaks multiple languages. She wears both skirts and pants with equal aplomb (though never an evening gown). Her army co-workers, male and female, treat her with evident respect (gender doesn't seem to be an issue in this version of the army). And the best part is that she falls into none of the current tropes of the professional woman-- she isn't lonely, uptight, workaholic, or controlling. Instead she is warm, funny Ann Sheridan, whose big, sensual laugh punctuates the film. That laugh could serve as a Howard Hawks emblem- a sexy open-hearted guffaw in the face of each frustration and trial, reminding us of Hawks ethos: Do your duty but never take anything too seriously--- not work, not romance, not regulations.
Cary Grant is equally likable and compelling. And he is the hinge of the piece, the character who must face the most discomfort and do the most changing. It's difficult to imagine any other actor making this part so believable and so sympathetic. Cary Grant's filmic masculinity is varied and fluid. He is libidinous, virile, blundering and boorish. He is also elegant, sly, sensitive and sheepish. He is, perhaps, a masculine version of the fluid eternal feminine, perfectly suited to a film that eventually suggests male identity need not be absolute. Grant's masculinity can tolerate being humbled and changed without being denatured.