A Cinephile’s Critiques

Directed by Anthony Kimmins, 1953 (B&W, 4:3, Mono, 90′)
Starring Alec Guiness, Yvonne de Carlo, Celia Johnson, and Charles Goldner

Captain St. James is a genius, his first mate tells us. And, if you’ve seen the poster for Captain’s Paradise, you might think you know what he’s talking about. The Captain, it seems, has a girl in both of the ports his ship sails from, just as in the old cliché.

On the other hand, you might realize that this hardly requires genius, and you’d be right, because The Captain’s Paradise is only tangentially about non-monogamy (or, if you have the uncensored, British, version of the film, bigamy). Captain’s Paradise also tells a perceptive, and quietly amusing, story that’s a little more general, and slightly more subversive, than just that.

The movie reveals, through scenes that mirror each other in whimsically different ways, that the Captain’s real stroke of genius was to work out how to live a reasonably complete life without confusing or upsetting anyone. He has figured out that the way to avoid being suffocated by the modern world’s elaborate categorization of people, and the one-dimensional roles it demands from them, is, simply, to make sure that no one ever catches you behaving “out of character.” After all, you can’t expect anyone to believe that the same man could be a decisive, efficient leader (as St. James is with his crew above deck), and an erudite, witty philosopher (as he is while dining with scholarly passengers below deck), and a playful, risqué lover (as he is with his mistress Nita in the port of Ceuta), and a sensible, responsible husband (as he is with his wife Maud in Gibraltar). The trick, he thinks, is to do different things in different places with different people.

Well, Captain’s Paradise wouldn’t be a comedy if he had gotten it completely right, and, of course, he hasn’t. Despite his perceptiveness, St. James never realizes that he might not be the only one who is really capable of, and wants to do, more than just those things his category requires of him. When he notices that his playful, erotic mistress has some domestic leanings, and his sedate, domestic wife wants to be sexy, he quickly discourages them. After all, they can’t have it both ways, can they? That would just be out of character.

The real irony here, one which Captain’s Paradise will, eventually, have a lot of fun with, is that, of all people, Captain St. James should have known better. He is, after all, someone who is leading not only a double, but a quadruple, life.

Of course, this was made in the ’50s, and we’re over that sort of thing now, aren’t we? Why, no one would bat an eye if stodgy, old Uncle Bob showed up at a nightclub, or that stuffed-shirt boss were seen singing along at Lollapalooza, or if someone spotted the family doctor gunning his Harley down the freeway, or if the technical support guy passed out invitations to a showing of his sculpture at the local art gallery, right?

Well, okay, maybe someday we’ll learn that people are, inherently, multi-dimensional. In the meantime we can always enjoy the subtly amusing antics of Henry St. James as he tries to be himself, in different places for different things, and gets just as confused as everyone else when other folks also turn out to be a little more than their categories would imply.