The Bull of Broad Street

It becomes apparent immediately that what sets Easy Living (1937, Mitchell Leisen) apart from most movies that are in the business of sketching a narrative, is that instead its emphasis is on individual sketches complete in and of themselves—nuanced precision plot points. Furthermore, Easy Living is a screwball comedy where what drives it isn’t sex, it’s money. It’s refreshing.
     The opening credits sequence’s jewels, furs, and orchid are lavish materialistic wealth signifiers that aren’t far removed from the timeless pop American obsession that still exists to this day. Along with the American dream of becoming wealthy without having to work for it. But what’s most effective here and gives Easy Living structure is its reliance on quintessential screwball genre ingredients: misunderstandings, false assumptions, and misleading appearances. These are found often as both plot elements and wordplay.
     Most of all the sable coat. MARY SMITH (Jean Arthur with why the most generic character name ever?) thinks it’s Kolinsky but doesn’t find out until the end it’s real sable. Another distinct quality of Easy Living is how in that opening scene when we are introduced to the BALL household, the way they fight doesn’t feel like aristocratic refined manners; it’s more like wild quick to lose their temper new money, which is more relatable, or at least more enjoyable. 
     But the other big misunderstanding crucial to the plot is the way Mary is mistaken for J.B. Ball’s mistress and every vulture in town swoops in to cash in on exploiting her for what they can gain from it. The whole tone of it feels like it’s relevant and could easily happen in our own times. Preston Sturges knows how to wring the comedy out of it though. The mistress angle plays out into the third act and through to the film’s climax turning into insider trading and market manipulation. And it’s all so outlandish yet somehow that makes it even more plausible.
     In keeping with this whole misunderstanding thing, there’s a scene played so indelibly by Jean Arthur when LOUIS LOUIS is showing her the suite and they’re discussing how much for “whatever it is you want?” where she seems in an honest sweet endearing way to be acquiescing to some sort of sex transaction. It’s quick. And despite how later she’s explosively offended that someone could even consider she accepted the sable from Ball as his mistress, I still think this reading of interpreting her suggestion in the earlier scene plays. Maybe it’s best left to our own imagination. 

 

What an ending. You don’t see it coming. And it’s what keeps the mistaken for mistress premise from running thin. It’s non sequitur. The way the Ray Milland character who’s only ever found himself capable in the work sector as a busboy out of nowhere proves himself ideal to run one of the largest financial institutions in the world is so funny because again it’s so outlandish but in real life that makes it even more plausible. It’s how people think now. It’s how people are now. It also fits with the title, with the theme. It's even more now the American dream to achieve financial gain or some shortcut to prosperity through scamming. But that’s not all. When Milland tells the Jean Arthur character “and I have a job for you… cooking my breakfast.” He’s serious. And it’s not meant to be funny which makes it even more funny.