I love this movie, mostly because many years ago I got cast in a local theatre production—from which I have stories!
(Im a little under the influence, forgive me.)
I was cast as Teddy. I’ve always joked about casting the crazy person to play a crazy person, but hell, that was what happened.
My mustache was not a paid actor. For three months I grew my own. And because I was heavyset and (at the time) a guy, it looked…weird out of costume. Like, I would have fit into a particular genre of documentary. I shaved it off in the backstage bathroom between our closing performance and the cast dinner. But I was bound and determined to never smell spirit gum and fake hair again after my first theatre experience and only musical (The Apple Tree, if you’ve heard of it. At 18, I got to play a king and father of a teenager. The costuming for that is a story in itself.)
I learned how to blow a bugle. The director wanted to do a sound effect, but the theatre’s musical director taught me to do it. I loved scaring the crap out of the director with the volume my lungs could produce.
But the mother of all stories? Dress rehearsal. My mother was in the audience with my oldest brother (who isn’t a theatre person, but he was supporting me). I was about to come down the stairs—which I had insisted were built to hold significant weight—while the two aunts were talking across stage. I got to the bottom step and slipped. I fell onto my butt. It stung, but it did get a good laugh. One of the aunts turned and asked “Teddy, are you alright?” She was genuinely concerned. I improvised. “Damn Spaniards must have left a land mine!” Which got both a solid laugh and a huge compliment from our director and cast.
And of course when I fell you could hear my mother gasp—rather loudly.
I did enjoy hiding the body on stage though.
I want to do theatre again. Not sure how I’d get cast with a leg and a half though.
I learned well in college, where I fell on stage during the dress rehearsal attended by my mother (I’m sensing a pattern…) and ended up improvising myself as a dead body in that classic trope of being half behind a set piece.
I think this was the first movie I saw Cary Grant in that was a comedy. I was surprised by how good he was at it. I love his reactions. He's practically hysterical while the aunts are just calmly oblivious and think everything is perfectly normal.
Teddy saves the day again!
I had to go to the john. What did I miss?
Grant's trying to get Teddy committed and blame the murders on him, meanwhile the baddies are planning to kill Grant
Raymond Massey got some elaborate intense S & M rope work going on
How is Peter Lorre so sweet despite abetting a murderer?
How are the aunts so sweet despite killing people?
Everyone in this movie has that arrogance, "it's not murder when *I* do it!"
It's what he does.
I love Mortimer tying the doctor’s tie for him.
I love this movie, mostly because many years ago I got cast in a local theatre production—from which I have stories!
(Im a little under the influence, forgive me.)
I was cast as Teddy. I’ve always joked about casting the crazy person to play a crazy person, but hell, that was what happened.
My mustache was not a paid actor. For three months I grew my own. And because I was heavyset and (at the time) a guy, it looked…weird out of costume. Like, I would have fit into a particular genre of documentary. I shaved it off in the backstage bathroom between our closing performance and the cast dinner. But I was bound and determined to never smell spirit gum and fake hair again after my first theatre experience and only musical (The Apple Tree, if you’ve heard of it. At 18, I got to play a king and father of a teenager. The costuming for that is a story in itself.)
I learned how to blow a bugle. The director wanted to do a sound effect, but the theatre’s musical director taught me to do it. I loved scaring the crap out of the director with the volume my lungs could produce.
But the mother of all stories? Dress rehearsal. My mother was in the audience with my oldest brother (who isn’t a theatre person, but he was supporting me). I was about to come down the stairs—which I had insisted were built to hold significant weight—while the two aunts were talking across stage. I got to the bottom step and slipped. I fell onto my butt. It stung, but it did get a good laugh. One of the aunts turned and asked “Teddy, are you alright?” She was genuinely concerned. I improvised. “Damn Spaniards must have left a land mine!” Which got both a solid laugh and a huge compliment from our director and cast.
And of course when I fell you could hear my mother gasp—rather loudly.
I did enjoy hiding the body on stage though.
I want to do theatre again. Not sure how I’d get cast with a leg and a half though.
Have you considered being FDR? (Ba dom shiiiiiish)
What fabulous memories!
Great improv!
I learned well in college, where I fell on stage during the dress rehearsal attended by my mother (I’m sensing a pattern…) and ended up improvising myself as a dead body in that classic trope of being half behind a set piece.
Awesome!
This movie seems like a middle finger to the Hays Code. No sex, no foul language, no nudity, but boy, are we gonna kill people!
It’s so cleverly done!
It's the American way. No sex, but lots of killing.
There was a 1969 TV version of this, with Helen Hayes and Lillian Gish as the aunts, and Fred Gwynne as Jonathan.
Which, of course, led to a lot of lines about Jonathan looking like Herman Munster.....
Oh funny!
I think this was the first movie I saw Cary Grant in that was a comedy. I was surprised by how good he was at it. I love his reactions. He's practically hysterical while the aunts are just calmly oblivious and think everything is perfectly normal.
Bragging about body count with the old biddies.
I try, but I never win those arguments with my aunties.
That cab's had the meter running for 75 minutes and it's at $22.50
A wee bit pricier today
that was pretty much downpayment on a house back then
Also too, the casual way they mentioned Jonathan tortured Mortimer as a child. 😱
Just blame the South Bend one on Bonnie and Clyde.
This is one dysfunctional family.
They appear to function very well as murderers.
And you're in Texas.
"He wouldn't have died of pneumonia if I hadn't shot him!"
“What a break for me! I’m a playwright!” are words that ought to strike icy terror into the heart.
“Peaches La Tour was her name” likewise.
"legitimate" used to be contrasted with "musical theatre" on the stage