Scenes We Love: The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer

Shirley Temple was the biggest box-office star during the Great Depression, tap-dancing, pouting and mugging through a staggering number of films and shorts -- IMdB has 11 listings for the curly-headed moppet in 1933 alone. One can only imagine that Dakota Fanning's agents wish they could have worked her that hard, too. Damn these modern child labor laws!

But like most kid stars, Temple worked less as she got older. She was still doing roughly a picture a year during her teen years, but for a star of her caliber under studio contract, she might as well not have been working at all. Temple retired in 1949 at the age of 21 (the same year that she divorced actor John Agar, whom she married when she was 16) and went on to an impressive career in public service.

But what if she had continued acting? For a glimpse of what might have been, check out one of Temple's last films, The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer. Just 18 when she made the picture, she'd been in front of the camera for longer than many actors twice her age, and she holds her own with co-stars Cary Grant and Myrna Loy -- no mean feat, that. Still phenomenally photogenic, with an overly broad acting style but brilliant comedic timing, there's little doubt that Temple could have transitioned to adult roles with just a little bit of coaching.

The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer is as hilarious as it is outdated in its depiction of women (only feminists with a healthy sense of humor should give it a go) that presents Temple as Susan, a teenager who develops an obsessive crush on an artist, Richard Nugent (Grant) after he lectures at her high school. By sheer movie coincidence, Nugent's just been arrested for his participation in a bar brawl, and the presiding judge is Susan's older sister and guardian, Margaret (Loy). At the prompting of Susan and Margaret's psychiatrist uncle (the marvelous Ray Collins), Margaret promises to drop the charges against Richard if he plays along with Susan's crush until she gets bored with him.

As much as Grant is lauded for his work in Bringing Up Baby and The Awful Truth, the actor's equally well served here, playing a swoon-worthy romantic lead, showing off his genius for physical comedy, and whipping through snappy, smart dialogue (the script, penned by Sidney Sheldon, won an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay.)

In the following scene, Grant decides that the best way to get out of his commitment is to prove himself an unsuitable beau for Susan by acting like, well, a teenager. The "hoo-doo? You do!" dialogue has become a classic, unforgettable piece of cinema (and referenced in such unexpected places as David Bowie's song "Magic Dance" from Labyrinth):

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