Category: Winners – 1940s

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All the King’s Men – 1949

This movie was a political drama, first and foremost. As such, I have to admit that I went into it with a half-way closed mind. I didn’t particularly care for the movie, simply because I have never been a great follower of politics. The plot follows the career of Willie Stark, played by Broderick Crawford, as he changes from a poor but honest farmer fighting against local injustice by running for a small and unimportant office, to a wealthy state governor who is as corrupt as the day is long.

Interesting Note: The author of the novel on which the movie was based was a Pulitzer Prize winner for the book. The character of Willie Stark was thought to be inspired by the real-life politician Huey P. Long, former Governor of Louisiana, and a Louisiana Senator in the mid-1930s

Sometimes it was unclear whether the main character is Stark or the young reporter, Jack Burden, played by John Ireland, that is assigned to cover his story, and later comes to work for him. Jack is associated with and is friends with Judge Monte Stanton. He also happens to be in a relationship with the judge’s niece, Anne Stanton, played by Joanne Dru.

I couldn’t stand the character of Anne Stanton. She is shallow and dishonest. I mean, sure, she wasn’t the only character with realistic flaws, but she seemed even more flawed than the rest. She lives as a ward of the Judge and when Jack asks for her to wait for him, to give him time to build some kind of a successful career so that he can keep her in the lifestyle to which she is accustomed, she promises that she will. But as soon as she meets Willie Stark, she is smitten with his power and position. She kicks Jack to the curb and starts an affair with him. Tough break, Jack!

Later, even when the corrupt Willie is about to end his relationship with her, she takes the opportunity to throw her uncle, the Judge, under the bus. And then when Jack confronts her about it, she sobs and cries and turns her face away from him, not able to face what she has done. She is a liar, a back-stabber, and an all-around bad person.

But enough about the weak and spineless behavior of her character.

The real focus of the film can be summed up in the famous quote by Sir John Dalberg-Acton, “Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” The film-makers seemed to go out of their way to demonstrate this point. That phrase may be true, but in this case, I have to question how true.

By the end of the movie, Stark was such a popular politician that when attending his own impeachment hearing, a crowd of supporters stood outside the courthouse for an entire day, shouting his name. What the crowd didn’t know was that his power and position were gained by suppressing, stepping on and, in one case, even murdering his opponents and enemies. He had become a habitual alcoholic and notorious womanizer. He was a tyrannical father and husband, and a master at manipulating those who worked for him.

So we have to ask, why did the people love him so much? Why did I sometimes admire his character? Because despite all his amoral and sometimes criminal behavior, he made promises to his voters which he honored. Sure, he bulldozed over people to do it, but he got it done. Roads were built along with a hospital and schools – all things that greatly improved the state of Louisiana. His supporters just didn’t know all the dirty business.

In the end, the movie was a bit too slow-paced for my tastes, and the subject matter was not really one in which I am interested. But, that being said, I will say that I thought Broderick Crawford did a good job. He was believable as both the poor but honest man, and as the rich but corrupt politician. John Ireland acted his part well enough, but for one thing. From the very beginning, he had a look on his face that made him seem perpetually annoyed, even when he had no reason to be.

One actress in the film that I enjoyed watching was Mercedes McCambridge as Sadie Burke, Stark’s personal assistant. She had an intensity about her that was reflected in her performance. The script didn’t focus on her very much, but what was there was golden. There was a small scene in which she is looking at her face in the mirror, acknowledging that she is not as high born or as pretty as Anne Stanton, and wishing that she was attractive enough to catch Willie’s attention. The inferiority, jealousy, and bitterness in that little scene was incredibly well acted. I actually felt a great amount of sympathy for her in that moment. McCambridge won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress for the role. Well done Mercedes!

Interesting Note: Director, Robert Rossen originally offered the starring role to John Wayne, who found the proposed film script unpatriotic and indignantly refused the part. Crawford, who eventually took the role, won the 1949 Academy Award for Best Actor, beating out Wayne, who had been nominated for his role in Sands of Iwo Jima.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hamlet – 1948

“To be, or not to be.  That is the Question.”    Or how about, “Frailty, thy name is woman.”  Maybe, “There is something rotten in the state of Denmark.”  Or if you prefer, “Neither a borrower nor a lender be.”  Or then again, “To thine own self be true.”  Or maybe even, “Get thee to a nunnery!”  Or why not, “The play is the thing.”  Also, though not included in this film adaptation, “What a piece of work is man?”  This is Shakespeare, and I don’t know any of his other plays, comedies or tragedies, that have so many memorable quotes.  Hamlet is, of course, is one of Shakespeare’s most popular plays, only being superseded, perhaps, by Romeo and Juliet.  This Oscar winning version is widely considered one of the best film adaptations of the drama, largely due to the film’s adaptor, director, and leading actor, Sir Lawrence Olivier.

The basic story is one that can be summed up in a nutshell.  Prince Hamlet’s father is murdered and the dead king’s ghost tells him to get revenge.  However, much of the tale’s drama comes from the psychological journey that Hamlet takes in enacting that revenge.  But I am not going to attempt to write a review of the plot of Shakespeare’s play.  Rather, I intend to focus, as much as possible, on Olivier’s film adaptation.   Keep in mind that the stage play is actually over four hours long.  This film adaptation runs just over two and a half hours.  Plenty of the play’s content was cut.  Most noticeably, the characters of Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and Fortinbras were completely left out.

Once again, I cannot wait until films start coming out in color.  The costumes alone were probably brilliant and dazzling, but as the movie was black and white they seemed diminished, somehow.  In fact, the film won an Academy Award for best Costume Design.  (The Queen’s costumes were particularly fantastic!)  But that being said, I recognized a specific benefit to the film being done in black and white.  I think one of the film’s biggest flaws was easier to hide without color.  Olivier was forty years old when performing the role.  Eileen Herlie, who played Gertrude, his mother, was only twenty-eight.  Despite the heavy makeup and bleach blonde hair, Olivier was obviously too old for the part.  Yes, his acting was superb, but he was just not young enough to play the youthful Prince.  Having the movie filmed in black and white, helped to hide that problem.

The movie’s score was composed by famous classical composer William Walton.  Much of the music sounded appropriate for the period in which the story takes place.  But during the dramatic moments, the score had a wonderful gravitas that seemed to emphasize the tortured psyche of Prince Hamlet, through which the plot leads us.

Other actors who stood out to me in the cast were Basil Sydney as King Claudius, Jean Simmons as Ophelia, Eileen Herlie as Gertrude, and in a very minor role as the Gravedigger, Stanley Holloway.  Holloway is best known for playing Alfred P. Doolittle in 1964s My Fair Lady.

I’ve seen Hamlet on stage and I’ve seen another film adaptation – Kenneth Brannagh’s 1996 version.  So I am no stranger to the plot.  But one thing I never really understood was the exact nature of Ophelia’s death.  I mean, yes, she lost her marbles.  But then she goes out and commits suicide by drowning herself?  In Olivier’s version, her demise did not seem so deliberate, and that made it more believable to me, or at least more understandable.  This movie portrayed it as more of an accident than an intended suicide.  Her mind was so far gone that when she decided to get in the water and lazily float along with the river, it never occurred to her to try to stay afloat when her soaked clothing pulled her under the surface.  Simmons was gorgeous and played crazy well.

Another thing that I found very effective about the film was a simple, yet ingenious, special effect.  It was actually very cool and did a great job of building tension.  There are two scenes in which the dead King’s ghost makes an appearance.  Both times, they had the fog machines going and Walton’s music was dark and mysterious.  Each time, the camera was focused on the characters to which the apparition would appear.  Then, the sound of something like a heart-beat began, and the camera would phase in and out of focus in time with the ominous beating.  The first time it happened, I didn’t understand what was being done.  But the disorienting shifts in focus along with the crescendo of the music really made for a spooky effect.  Add to that the frightened expressions on the faces of the actors, and the effect accomplished its goal.

Lawrence Olivier really did a fine job, both behind and in front of the camera.  Once I got over the idea that he was too old for the part, I had to admit that he really was a great actor.  His emotions seemed real and believable.  I especially liked the “To be, or not to be” speech.  You often hear it quoted out of context, but Olivier’s delivery within the context of the play made it so much more meaningful.  In fact, Olivier has been considered by many to be the greatest actor of the 20^th century.

Interesting note:  Olivier had been the only actor to direct himself into an Academy Award for Best Actor until 1998, when Roberto Benigni did the same with the movie Life is Beautiful.  However, Benigni’s movie did not win the Academy Award for Best Picture.  Ironically, it lost that honor to the movie Shakespeare In Love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gentleman’s Agreement – 1947

I’m not sure why, but this one turned out to be a pretty long review.

Plain and simple, this movie was about anti-Semitism and its message was shouted loud and clear.  For those who might not know, anti-Semitism is a very specific prejudice against Jewish people.  It actually required that I do a bit of research into the subject.  The title of the film, Gentleman’s Agreement, is not exactly an obvious one.  It was not clear as to why this movie was so called until about three quarters of the way through the movie.  The point was made that the unjust treatment of the Jewish people was a problem that was not talked about.  It was generally hushed up and ignored, not recognized, and not dealt with.  It was a sort of gentleman’s agreement that the distasteful subject should just be overlooked by polite society.

I have been fortunate not to have grown up in or lived in an environment that that exposed me to that kind of prejudice.  That being the case, I don’t understand why any person would treat another human being differently because of a religion that he follows.  However, times were different back then and social attitudes and prejudices were likewise different.  In 1947, following the end of World War II, anti-Semitism was a real problem.  This movie took a definite stance and attempted to practice exactly what it preached.  It is not enough to just say you are not anti-Semitic.  You have to behave in a manner that actively fights against it.  Social change begins at home.

The film starred Gregory Peck as Philip Green, a journalist recently moved to New York, who is commissioned to write an article on anti-Semitism.  He has a reputation for writing powerful and thought-provoking articles, but even he is daunted by the sensitive subject.  He finds that he has difficulty finding the profound and unique angle that he needs to make the article what he wants it to be.  His solution, since he is still mostly unknown in New York, is to tell everyone that he is Jewish and see, first hand, how he is treated.  By today’s standards, he is treated horribly.

But I had to ask myself: how accurate was the problem depicted in the film?   Here is where my little bit of research comes in.  Apparently, it was just as bad as it was portrayed, though maybe not so concentrated.  Here is what that means:  In the film, Green starts telling people that he is Jewish.  Immediately and categorically, he and his family are shunned, ostracized, cheated, verbally and socially abused, and in general treated like second class citizens.

But therein lies the one major problem I had with the plot.  The writers seemed to make a list of all the most common forms of anti-Semitism, then one by one, they forced them upon Mr. Green, and by extension, the audience.  This made the story seem contrived, and consequently, very preachy.  Maybe that was their goal.  They went out of their way to examine the issue from a number of different angles and points of view.  How does it affect the Jewish people?  How does it affect non-Jews?  How does it affect Jewish children?  What forms of behavior are considered anti-Semitic?  How do Jews react to the extreme injustices they are forced to endure?  How do they cope with this horrible form of prejudice?  All these questions are systematically asked and answered.

Most of the characters in the movie are aware that anti-Semitism is an ugly thing.  But the movie also makes this point: simply looking the other way and allowing such behavior to continue is just as bad as perpetrating it.    This point is really driven home in Mr. Green’s relationship with his fiancé, Kathy Lacey, played by Dorothy McGuire.  I thought this actress did a wonderful job.  Not only did I like the way her part was acted, I liked the way it was written.  From the beginning, Green let her in on the charade, but her initial reaction to the scheme set the tone for everything that came to follow.  As soon as he told her that he was going to “come out” as Jewish, McGuire did a fantastic job of showing you exactly what went through Lacey’s mind.  She was afraid of being known as the fiancé of a Jew.  It was an instinctive reaction, but not because she thought she would be known as a Jew herself.   It was because she knew how badly Jews were being treated and she was afraid of being treated that way.  It seems to me to be a subtle but significant difference.  I thought her reaction was understandable.

However, her character’s behavior, when viewed critically, could be considered anti-Semitic – but usually in an indirect way.  You have to really be looking for it; you have to WANT to see it.  At one point, she is so tired of being treated so harshly whenever he perceives her as being anti-Semitic, she leaves him, and I said “Good for her!”  I didn’t really like Peck’s character.  He was so obsessed with his article that he forced everyone in his life to endure the hardships that he willingly took upon himself.  It was all about him, and everyone else be damned.  Sure anti-Semitism was a real problem, but the innocent people around him were made to suffer for his ideals.  I would have left him, too.

A breath of fresh air amid the heavy cloud of the film’s drama was the character of Anne Dettrey, played by Celeste Holm.  She won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress for the role.  She was a character who was truly not anti-Semitic.  As Mr. Green’s co-worker and friend, she was unashamed of her Jewish friends and the actress really did a fine job showing it.  In fact, half the time I wanted Mr. Green to end up with her at the end of the movie because she was such a genuine and self-assured character.  She was honest and sympathetic to the plights of others.  And she was a true enough friend to be brutally honest with Mr. Green when he really needed it.

I also have to mention John Garfield, who played Mr. Green’s Jewish friend Dave Goldman, who gave him yet another perspective on the issue.  He was a bigger name actor at the time, but because he was actually Jewish and wanted to be a part of the film, he took a smaller supporting role.  He did a great job, and was very believable in the part.

This movie was informative and honest about the subject of anti-Semitism, but as a plots go, it seemed a bit too contrived, and had a tendency to force its point on the audience.  Anti-Semitism is a cruel and ugly thing that has no place in a civilized world.  I get it.  But it was so forcefully shoved down my throat, I almost felt like I, myself, was being accused of anti-Semitism for even sympathizing with McGuire’s character.  It is alright to make a point, but I felt like it went a little too far.

All that being said… everything that the film tried to say is unfortunately true, and it is sad that there are still anti-Semitic people in the world today.

Interesting Note:  The political nature of the film upset the House Un-American Activities Committee.  Elia Kazan (Director), Darryl Zanuk (Producer), John Garfield, and Anne Rever (actress who played Mrs. Green – Mr. Green’s mother) were all called to testify before the committee. Revere refused to testify outright and although Garfield appeared, he refused to “name names”. Both were placed in the Red Channels of the Hollywood Blacklist.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Best Years of Our Lives – 1946

This was a very good movie for several reasons.  It had some wonderful acting, believable characters and story lines, serious dramatic content, and even an overall feeling of social consciousness.  It dealt with the difficult subject of WW II veterans coming home after the war and their attempts to return to their normal lives.  But the devastating war left no man unmarked, or undamaged.  The men who fought for our freedom were forever changed, forever scarred – some physically, some emotionally.

The film was nominated for eight Awards, winning seven of them.  Aside from Best Picture, it took home Oscars for Best Director (William Wyler), Best Actor (Fredric March), Best Screenplay, Best Supporting Actor (Harold Russell), Best Film Editing, and Best Music.

When it comes to this Academy Award Best Picture winner, I was quite pleasantly surprised.  I went into this movie thinking that is was going to be depressing and sad.  But thank goodness, I was wrong.  Sure, there were depressing moments, but the story was incredibly well written, giving it a feeling of hope despite terrible hardships.  I have to give a special notice of congratulations to MacKinlay Kantor for a job well done in writing the novella the movie was based on, and Robert Sherwood for writing the brilliant screenplay.  Sherwood won the Academy Award for best screenplay.  The plot was so incredibly believable.  What really cemented the realism for me was the ending.   It was not your typical Hollywood ending.  Not all the problems were resolved.  Not every character ended up happy.

The plot revolves around three service men in different branches of the military.  Actor Fredric March played Sergeant First Class Al Stephenson.  His problem: estrangement from a family he has not seen in several years and consequently, severe alcoholism.  Dana Andrews plays Air Force Captain Fred Derry.  His problem:  an inability to find satisfying work in a post-war low job market, a wife who is practically a stranger whom he married on a whim only a few weeks before shipping out to war, and post-traumatic stress syndrome.  Finally, non-actor Harold Russell played Petty Officer 2nd Class Homer Parrish.  His problem:  The loss of both hands during the war, and an inability to accept his own disability, rejecting others because he is afraid of being rejected.  He thought that others saw him as a freak, but I think that he couldn’t get past seeing himself as one.

As you can see, very serious and very realistic problems.  But the entire cast was up to the task.  The acting seemed natural and easy, even for Russell, whose disability was not a special effect.  He really did have prehensile hooks in place of his hands.  He did a fantastic job, even during the heavily dramatic moments of the demanding role.  There seemed to be more there than just simple acting.  He acted the part well because he had lived it.

A very handsome Dana Andrews did a great job as well.  He looked sharp in his Air Force Uniform, like a nice guy you’d want to know.  But though the disability he portrayed was not physical, it was certainly just as devastating.  His character would frequently relive the horrors of being a bomber in the war, screaming in his sleep and waking drenched in sweat.  As it turned out, he was the romantic lead of the film.  His love interest was an actress whom I have mentioned in an earlier review.

Teresa Wright played the part of Peggy Stephenson, Sargent Stephenson’s adult daughter.  Just as in Mrs. Miniver, Wright was a delight to watch.  She is beautiful and vivacious, and she always seems to have a sparkle in her eyes.  She played a much more adult character here, and once again, she stood out to me as an exceptional actress.

Like I mentioned earlier, one of the things that made the plot so much more real to me was the fact that not all the problems were resolved by the end of the film.  Sargent Stephenson was still drinking too much, Captain Derry was still reliving his experiences as a bombardier, and Petty Officer Parrish still had his physical disability to cope with.  But the point was made that despite the scars that all soldiers came home with, there was the hope of happiness and a light at the end of every tunnel.  Parrish got to marry his girl, Derry got away from his bad marriage and got together with Peggy, and Stephenson’s family was supporting him through his fight with his alcohol abuse.

This was a very emotional movie.  So far, in all the Academy Award winning films I have watched up to this point, I might even go so far as to say that this was the most dramatic Best Picture winner yet because it is one of the most realistic stories.  I imagine it might have hit close to home with a lot of audiences in 1946.  The subject matter was current for its time but still relevant for audiences of today.  The scars of war that all soldiers bear affect more than just the soldiers.  They affect the families and friends that they return to after the wars are over.

Interesting note:  Producer Samuel Goldwyn reportedly said of this film, “I don’t care if it doesn’t make a nickel… I just want every man, woman and child in America to see it.”  I can see what he meant.  The stories are just that powerful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Lost Weekend – 1945

I can see why The Lost Weekend won the Academy Award for Best Picture, because it dealt with a subject that is very serious:  alcoholism.  Even today, alcoholism afflicts roughly 18 million people in the United States alone.  The movie pulled no punches and attempted to show the frightening depths to which a true drunk on a drinking binge will sink.  The results were pretty ugly, and made all the more so because they were so realistic.  To put it simply: alcoholism ruins lives.

The film starts out as Don Birnam, played by Ray Milland, is packing to go on a trip out of town with his brother.  He makes a point of telling him that he hasn’t had a drink in ten days.  But his brother Wick, played by Phillip Terry, is skeptical.  Right from the very beginning, it is clear that Don is hiding something, lying to his brother, and is dying for a drink.  He has hidden a bottle of Whisky by hanging it outside the window, but Wick finds it and pours it down the drain.  His girlfriend Helen, played by Jane Wyman, arrives to see them off.  Like Wick, she is also painfully aware that Don has a drinking problem, but is desperate to believe the best of her man.

The film wastes no time in showing that Don has a very serious problem.  You see, Don is no ordinary drunk.  Don is the kind of alcoholic that would put a dope fiend to shame.  From the very beginning, he is already at the point where he is prepared to beg, lie, cheat, and steal for a drink.  He has no concern for those around him and is only concerned with one thing – that next drink.  When he is finally left alone, he searches the apartment in vain for any drop of alcohol that he might have hidden – anything that his brother might not have found.  My first thought was that Millan was portraying the character and his behavior so completely over the top that it seemed unrealistic.  But then I remembered a documentary I once saw about alcoholism and substance abuse, and the lengths to which addicts will go for their drug of choice, and it started to make a lot more sense.  If his alcoholism had reached that point, his behavior was all too real.

The movie is based on a book of the same name, written by Charles R. Jackson.  Apparently, the movie follows the book pretty well with very few deviations.  The book was so well written and realistic, some have even said that it “was obviously semi-autobiographical.”  However, it is interesting to note one minor difference.  In the book, the character of Don Birnam is described as being tormented by a homosexual incident he’d had in college.  They left that alone, and I don’t think the film suffered for it.

The movie was very well done in that it showed the how low alcoholics are able to sink.  The begging, lying, cheating, and stealing were all there, but it got even worse, even to the point of horrific hallucinations and suicide attempts.  His brother got fed up and abandoned him to his fate.  And even his girlfriend was ready to do the same until she learned that he planned to kill himself.  But the film ended with a ray of hope.  Helen returns to stop him.  She even desperately tries to get him to drink more alcohol, saying that she would rather have him drunk than dead.

It was a god movie, being neither polite nor pretty.  Instead, it was gritty and real.  The acting was good and the characters believable.  Here is where I think the movie turns a little strange, and perhaps fails to translate for a modern audience.  The music.  For me, the soundtrack didn’t really seem to fit the story.  It was creepy music that would have been appropriate for an old Hollywood monster movie like The Creature From the Black Lagoon or The Mummy, not a serious drama about a raging alcoholic on a four day drinking binge.

The soundtrack employed an electronic instrument called a theremin which was supposedly used to create the pathos of alcoholism.  All it did for me was to remind me of Plan 9 from Outer Space.  The theremin makes a sound that is wobbly and high-pitched, eerie and other-worldly.  I kept expecting a slow close-up of a monster lurking in the closet.  But when the horror movie music played, they would start panning in for an extreme close-up on a glass of rye, as if maybe the alcohol itself was the monster.  Maybe the music might have been effective for 1945.  After all, The Lost Weekend was one of the first movies to employ the theremin as part of the soundtrack.  But by today’s standards, it didn’t seem to fit the film.

Another character in the film that I enjoyed watching was Nat, the local bar tender that gets Don started on his binge, played by Howard Da Silva.  He does everything a friendly bartender should do.  He is a good server and an attentive listener.  When he realizes that Don has gone completely off the deep end, he gives him one last shot before cutting him off and encouraging him to get some help.  That showed a certain amount of compassion and the desire to help out his friend.  Well done, Howard.

The subject of alcoholism is a difficult and serious one, and the movie was not afraid to show some of the seedier sides of the disease.  It was not always comfortable to watch, and as such it achieved its goal.  The hallucination scene was particularly disturbing.  But I think it was worthy of the Best Picture Academy Award it won.

Interesting note:  The day after the Oscar Ceremonies, Director, Billy Wilder, and Producer, Charles Brackett returned to work at the film studio complex.  They noticed that co-workers had hung empty alcohol bottles outside the office windows in homage to the Best Picture win.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Going My Way – 1944

Here we come to Going My Way, a nice movie about an Irish Catholic priest named Father Charles “Chuck” O’Malley who is assigned to take over the financially failing church, St. Dominic’s. The elderly priest in residence is Father Fitzgibbon. Things seem hopeless, but then again, O’Malley is played by the biggest box office drawing actor of the 1940’s, Bing Crosby. Of course everything will be alright. Critics have called this film Crosby’s best, even putting it above such favorites as The Bells of St. Mary’s or White Christmas. Unfortunately, I can’t confirm or deny that appraisal. This is the first film starring Bing Crosby I have ever seen.

The movie was nominated for ten Academy Awards, winning seven of the coveted statuettes. Besides Best Picture, Crosby took home the Oscar for Best Actor. Fitzgibbon, played by Barry Fitzgerald, won for Best Supporting Actor, though he was also nominated for Best Actor, losing to Crosby. I’m still trying to reason that one out – Nominated for Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor for the same role. What if he had won them both? The film also won Awards for Best Director (Leo McCarey), Best Writing, Screenplay, Best Original Motion Picture Story, and Best Music, Song (more about that later).

The character of Father O’Malley was the kind of guy that was practically perfect in every way. He was written to be the priest we all wish we could have. He was kind and generous, smart and self-effacing, gentle and mild, funny and could sing like an angel. He had a great love for music, and a talent for composing, which, by the way, became a plot point in the story. You see, he finds that the best way for him to save the church from foreclosure is to write and sell a hit song.

He begins by starting a boy’s choir, recruiting the local hoodlums and teaching them to sing. But this is just set-up so that later in the film he will have a back-up choir to help him sell his hit song to the record producer, Max Dolan, played by William Frawley, otherwise known as Fred Mertz from I Love Lucy. He even has a connection to (and therefore the help of) the world famous opera star, Genevieve Linden, played by real life opera star Rise Stevens, who fronts the song for him. The plan works, but not in the way that O’Malley intends.

The title song, “Going My Way“, is his big hopeful, but Dolan turns it down, calling it too high-class and schmaltzy. As the record producer is leaving, Crosby sings the song “Swinging on a Star” with his pitch perfect hoodlum choir. Dolan hears it and decides to buy it on the spot. The Church is saved! The mortgage is paid and everyone is happy!

But none of it matters because the half church burns down in a fire.

Some elements of the plot vaguely reminded me of the 1992 movie Sister Act. A failing church is put back on the straight-and-narrow because of someone who breathes life back into it, using the gift of music. And I have to admit, Crosby sure had the gift. He was, of course, an accomplished actor, but I think he was just as well known as a singer. He had a beautiful baritone voice that was soft and velvety and perfectly even from his low to his high range. He sang five songs in the movie.

The title song was a beautiful tune that really lent itself to Crosby’s crooning style. But let’s face it – nobody today remembers it. Everyone, however, remembers “Swinging on a Star“. It has a delightful, catchy melody and cute lyrics. In fact, this is the song that won the Academy Award for Best Music, Song. As I watched the movie, I kept thinking that the movie should have been called Swinging on a Star, but I guess that would have given the little plot twist away.

All that, of course, was only the main story line of the plot. There were others. For example, there was a bit of drama that centered around Father Fitzgibbon as the doddering, elderly priest who had to step aside to make way for the spry, young one. As a matter of fact, Fitzgerald did a very good job as the aged clergyman. He was mildly crotchety, slightly cantankerous, and wonderfully endearing.

Another story line was that of Carol James, played by beautiful Jean Heather, a young woman who had run away from home and is suspected of being up to no good. So where do the police bring her? Why, to the church, of course. Father O’Malley helps her out with a little money and sends her on her way. She meets the handsome son of the banker behind the foreclosure of the church and marries him. To me, this little side story was so insignificant to the main plot that it is almost not even worth mentioning but I know exactly why it was part of the movie.

A few weeks after the couple are wed, the young man joins the military and goes off to war. Remember, this is still 1944 and World War II is not yet over. We can’t pass up the chance to display a handsome young man in his sharp military uniform fighting in the service of his country, his tearful young bride waiting for his return.

If I had any real criticism of Going My Way, it would be that the character of Father O’Malley was so noble and righteous, so godly and perfect, he was not really believable. A man like that would surely be given sainthood. I’m not saying that there aren’t actually people who are that good, but he didn’t seem to have a single flaw. Not one. Something, anything – a loss of temper, a bad habit, a dark past – would have made him seem more real to me.

This was another film that, while I enjoyed it, was a little too slow paced for my tastes. But it was good to finally see Bing Crosby in a film. I understand why he was such a popular actor.

Interesting note: After World War II, Bing Crosby and Leo McCarey presented a copy of the motion picture to Pope Pius XII at the Vatican. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Casablanca – 1943

Casablanca is another war-time drama, which is not surprising since World War II was still in full swing. The year was 1943 – still two more years to go until the end of the war. But the movie was significantly different than most other war-time films. The characters were iconic and memorable. The setting and the costumes were wonderfully exotic. The plot was engaging and the music was timeless. A great movie, well worth the Best Picture award.

The whole story took place in the city of Casablanca, which is the capitol city of Morocco. For those who don’t know, Morocco is on the north-western tip of the continent of Africa. Casablanca is right on the Atlantic Ocean. Much of the film takes place in an upscale nightclub and casino called Rick’s Café American. Humphrey Bogart plays Rick, the owner of the popular bar. In comes Ugarte, a small-time criminal played by Peter Lorre, who has in his possession letters of transit, which are basically free rides to the free world. Ugarte gives the papers to Rick for safe-keeping before being arrested and killed, and the drama begins.

Rick is a great character. He is incredibly noble, fighting for the good guys, doing what is right, helping those in need, all the while keeping his hands clean by knowing when and where to do his good deeds. He professes to be completely amoral and neutral in the affairs of politics, even though he is eventually revealed to be anything but. He turns out to be a patriot, fighting for the free world in his own way. But all that is thrown into jeopardy when the leading lady walks in.

Playing opposite Bogart is Ingrid Bergman playing Ilsa, his former Norwegian lover who once mysteriously left him at the train station in Paris, breaking his heart. (This is starting to sound like a day-time soap opera!) She shows up in Rick’s Café with her husband, infamous Czech freedom-fighter Victor Laszlow, played by Paul Henried. Ilsa makes a point of keeping her past a secret from Rick as much as she can, and she has the misfortune to fall in love with two men for two very different reasons. Her loyalties are torn and Bergman seemed to pull off the character’s internal conflict effortlessly.

The entire movie was so well cast and the actors did a fantastic job. Bogart was very believable, but I have to mention one criticism. He often didn’t open his mouth wide enough to be understood clearly. He spoke through his teeth and it sometimes sounded like he had cotton balls in his cheeks. Bergman was gorgeous enough to get the soft-focus treatment almost every time she was on the screen. Most critics call Henreid’s performance too stiff, but I thought he portrayed Laszlow as a man with a demeanor that was calm and practiced, clear-headed and yet passionate, making him seem more noble and righteous.

Another actor who stood out to me was Claude Rains. He played the corrupt French Police Chief Louis Renault. Even though the character was undeniably compliant with the German oppressors who, lets face it, really controlled the city (a man who, in real life, would have been detestable), Rains played the part with an almost devil-may-care smile and cocky attitude, making the character likeable, even though he was a willing puppet of the Third Reich.

The music was, of course, very memorable. The song “As Time Goes By” is the most famous tune that was used in the film, but “It Had to be You”, and “The Very Thought of You” were also great songs. In fact, only one song was written specifically for the movie called, “Knock on Wood.”

Interesting Note: I always notice in movies whether actors are actually playing their instruments or not. Watch Sam’s (played by Dooley Wilson) hands whenever you can see them tickling the ivories. There is no way he is really playing that piano, and it is painfully obvious.

The movie is also famous for its many memorable lines. “Here’s looking at you, kid.”, “Play it, Sam. Play ‘As Time Goes By‘” (which most people remember as “Play it again, Sam.”), “Louis, I Think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship”, “Round up the usual suspects“, “We’ll always have Paris,” and “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.” Many people who have never even seen Casablanca know where those lines are from. OK, so maybe some of the film’s dialogue is a little hokey, but who doesn’t love those lines?

I was also impressed with the wonderful costumes. The German and French military costumes were authentic-looking and impressive. Fez hats are always fun, the long skirts on the women’s evening gowns were appropriately fashionable, and the men’s tuxedos were neat and stylish. All that, combined with the garb of the Moroccan locals gave the whole movie a feeling of civility in the midst of the wilds of the Sahara Desert.

Any movie that deals with World War II, having intimidating Nazi characters, always has an underlying tension that the viewer often feels more than sees. Casablanca is no exception, and I bet that the movie-going audiences of 1943 felt it even move poignantly than would the audiences of today. Sure, Casablanca was a Hollywood movie, but things like that were actually happening at that time, all over the world.

Interesting note: The specific use of bar-like shadows in the background of many scenes are meant to give the viewer the feeling of being in a prison. Very clever subliminal manipulation. Thank cinematographer Arthur Edeson for that little trick.

This was an excellent movie. I had seen it before a long time ago, but I think I understood more of the subtleties of the plot the second time around. The great cast of actors really did a fantastic job of drawing me into the story and making me feel for the characters they were portraying. I enjoyed the film and think it is a fine addition to the list of Academy Award Best Picture winners.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mrs. Miniver – 1942

Here we have another war-time drama, this one dealing with World War II in rural England. In fact, it was so relevant for its time and was such an inspirational film, President Roosavelt used it as a morale-builder for the American people, as the United States had just entered the conflict. The initial filming was finished before the attack on Pearl Harbor, but once the America joined the war, certain scenes were re-filmed with stronger anti-German and pro-British sentiments.

Mrs. Miniver is the title character of the film, played my Greer Garson. From the very beginning, she appears to be the perfect wife and mother. Her husband, Clem Miniver, played by Walter Pidgeon (who also happened to be in the previous year’s Academy Award Best Picture winner) is a successful architect, and they appear to have the perfect life. They have no worries, plenty of money, and a beautiful home and family. But then the war comes and their charmed lives are threatened by the horrors of the World War.

As I watched I was, at first, a little disappointed by Mrs. Miniver’s character. I thought she had a fairly weak personality. She did very little to actively move the plot along. Everything happened to her or around her and she simply reacted. Even when a wounded German fighter pilot parachutes into her yard and holds her at gun-point, she does what she is told, giving him food and water, until the soldier passes out from his injuries. Then she picks up his gun and calls the police.

But upon further reflection, I realize that her character displayed an incredibly brave, stiff upper-lip in the face of danger. It is a very British trait. Really, what else could she have done in that situation? She shows courage under pressures that would make most people shudder with fear. Even with her husband gone for nearly a week, assisting with the Dunkirk Evacuation, and her son, a British Fighter Pilot engaging the enemy in the air, she remains calm and brave, waiting for them to return. Yes, Garson did a fine job portraying courage under pressure. In fact, Garson won the Academy Award for Best Actress for the role.

Interesting note: Garson’s acceptance speech at the Awards Ceremony was the longest acceptance speech in Academy Award history, coming in at five-and-a-half minutes. Shortly thereafter, acceptance speeches were limited to forty-five seconds.

Now, the real emotional gravity of the film was in Mrs. Miniver’s son’s story line. Vin Miniver is the family’s eldest boy, played by Richard Ney. Shortly before the start of the war, he meets and falls in love with young Carol Beldon, played by Teresa Wright. She is beautiful and intelligent, and I loved watching her. Her character was just lovely and pleasant. Mr. and Mrs. Miniver are happy to welcome her into their family.

But war is never fair. I kept expecting Vin or even Clem to be killed in action. I was stunned when the tragedy happened, and it was Carol who was shot during a German air raid, only two weeks after her marriage to Vin. The fact that she was so young and vivacious made her death that much more shocking and emotionally devastating. I really felt for Mrs. Miniver, holding her daughter-in-law’s body and finally losing her iron British composure, breaking down into sobbing tears.

The final scene is a powerful sermon given by the local vicar, played by Henry Wilcoxon. This is what really inspired Roosevelt to use the film as a morale-builder to a nation at war. He ordered the film rushed into theaters as a propaganda film. With the crumbled wall of the church behind him, he preaches, “It is the war of the people, of all the people. And it must be fought not only on the battlefield but in the cities and in the villages, in the factories and on the farms, in the home and in the heart of every man, woman and child who loves freedom.” The Minivers and the rest of the congregation then sing loudly and proudly “Onward Christian Soldiers.”  All this, as the camera pans up to show the bombed-out ceiling of the church.  You can’t get much more inspirational than that.

Interesting note: At the end of the closing credits, as the words “The End” faded from the screen, but before the music ended, the following admonishment unexpectedly appeared on the screen: “AMERICA NEEDS YOUR MONEY. BUY DEFENSE BONDS AND STAMPS EVERY PAYDAY.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How Green Was My Valley – 1941

First, let me say – How Green was My Valley?  Not very.  The movie was black and white.  This would have been better done in color.  In fact, it was originally intended to be filmed in color on location in Wales, but World War II was in full swing, and they had to build a set on Fox Ranch in Malibu Canyon – which doesn’t really explain why it wasn’t filmed in color.  A color film would have served the plot well.

The story is told through the recollections of a young man who, as a boy, who grew up in an impoverished mining town.  At first everything is green and beautiful, but by the end of the film, the town is even poorer and blackened with mining spoil.  The young boy, Huw Morgan, is played by a 12 year old Roddy McDowall.  Of course, we all know that McDowall has been in many fine films as an adult, but it was interesting to see him as such a young actor.  As child actors go, I thought he did a very good job.

His father Gwilym Morgan, played by Donald Crisp, was also a stand-out member of the cast.  I watched a 1941 trailer for the film before watching the movie.  The voice-over of the trailer called him “the tyrannical father.”  But I thought he was anything but a tyrant.  He was certainly stern and ruled his house as best he could, but he was also compassionate at the right times, and obviously wanted the best for his children.  Crisp won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor for the role.  Well done, Donald.

Huw had five older brothers and an older sister.  The brothers were pretty non-descript.  Their personalities and story arcs were pretty much all the same.  But the sister Angharad Morgan, played by Maureen O’Hara had her own story line which carried a fair portion of the emotional content of the movie.  She falls in love with the local priest, played by Walter Pidgeon.  But he refuses her love, saying that as a priest, he has resigned himself to a life of poverty, and cannot ask her to share that life.  So instead, she enters into a loveless marriage with a rich man.  But even then, much of the characters’ emotions seemed to be played under the surface.  Even when certain characters died in the mine, the family’s display of grief appeared to be short and almost unimportant.  But then again, I suppose that being married to a miner means living with the knowledge that fatal disasters can happen at any time.

Over all, it was a pretty slow paced movie.  However, there was one sequence in the film that was especially satisfying to watch.  When Huw goes off to school, a bully beats him up, so his father gets a man in the village named Dai Bando, wonderfully played by Rhys Williams, to teach the boy to fight.  The next time Huw is at school, he beats up the other kid.  Unfortunately, the teacher sees him fighting and as punishment, he uses a cane to give Huw the beating of his life.  After that treatment, Huw’s brothers offer to teach the teacher a lesson.  Huw makes them promise not to because, after all, he had been told not to fight.  Dai Bando, however never makes that promise, and the next day, he walks into the classroom and beats the teacher senseless in front of his students.  The whole time he is speaking to the students, giving them a lesson in boxing.  After the teacher is unconscious on the floor, Dai Bando addresses the class and says, “I’m afraid he will never make a boxer.”  Like I said – a particularly satisfying sequence.

Another aspect of the film that is worthy of note is the singing.  At first it seemed strange that a choir called the Welsh Singers were in the opening credits.  Then in the film, the men of the village turned out to be a pitch perfect choir that would sing at the drop of a hat (or after a drop of whiskey).  Not terribly realistic, but I thought that just because there were singing men in the script, Hollywood was just showing off by hiring a professional choir.  At least they justified the musical towns-people by making the choral music part of the story.

The movie had an overwhelming sense of futility and depression, but that might have just been the subject matter.  I mean, coal mining in those days was probably never a happy subject.  Neither is child labor, strikes, mining accidents, and child abuse.  At least they didn’t explore the subject of black lung.  The only happy parts of the movie were those in which the Morgan family was together and united.  But over the course of the film, the family slowly dissolved.  Some of them moved away and others died.  The only ones left in the end were the women and children.  Of course, the whole film was a flash-back, so really the women are all gone as well, leaving Huw to leave the valley alone.

So, what am I saying?  This wasn’t really a bad movie, but it was too slow paced and depressing for my tastes.  Not exactly my kind of film.

Interesting note:  The author of the original book actually wrote three sequels which follow the adventures of Huw as he moves to Argentina, of all places, and eventually back to the Valley.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rebecca – 1940

Alfred Hitchcock is best known for his psychological thrillers and mysteries.  Rebecca is a perfect example.  The byword of the day is creepy!  This was a creepy movie, from the characters and the settings to the music and the plot.  I would say that Hitchcock gave us what we were waiting for, except that this was one of his earlier films, so I should say he was letting us know what to expect in the future.  While I enjoyed the film, there was one aspect which was never explained.  But more of that later…

The opening shot is an intriguing one, where the camera is following a winding path on a dark and misty night.  The spooky music is playing in the background and a woman’s melancholy voice is describing how she sometimes comes here to this place.  Eventually, the road leads to the burnt-out shell of a house.  I found myself wondering who was speaking, a live woman or a ghost.  With Hitchcock, you never know.

The main character is, for some reason, never named.  The credits list her as the Second Mrs. de Winter, never giving her a first name.  She is played by Joan Fontaine, and is a woman who has so little self-confidence, or so much shyness (or maybe both) that she can never look anyone in the eye, not even when she is in a face-to-face conversation with them.  Creepy!  But despite this extreme fear of connecting with anyone, she is able to catch the eye of super-rich Maxim de Winter, played by Lawrence Olivier.   He pursues her, and within the space of a few weeks, she falls madly in love with him.

Of course, he has a temper that rears its ugly head whenever she mentions the sea, or his past, or costume parties, or anything that reminds him of his first wife, Rebecca, who is dead.  Never-mind the fact that his head housekeeper Mrs. Danvers, played by Judith Anderson, keeps all Rebecca’s things exactly as they were when she was alive.  Apparently, Maxim doesn’t mind that, but he flies into a rage any time the Second Mrs. de Winter even begins to so much as look too much like Rebecca, or does anything to remind him of her.

Mrs. Danvers is the creepiest character of all.  Hitchcock even turned up the volume on the spooky haunted house organ music when she is first introduced, as if he wanted the audience to have no doubt that this was the scary bad guy.  But he needn’t have gone so far.  Anderson’s wonderful portrayal was enough.  Almost immediately, you could tell that she resented Maxim’s new bride.  The only time she ever smiled was the scene in which she was showing off Rebecca’s old room to the Second Mrs. de Winter.  She had, of course, kept the room exactly as it had been before Rebecca’s death.  Creepy!  But then when she began to fondle Rebecca’s old fur coat, and even took a moment to caress the other woman’s face with it, I finally began to understand.  Even though the movie never explicitly stated it, the lesbian tendencies in Mrs. Danvers suddenly became all too evident.

Interesting note:  Apparently, the original book that the movie was based on made Mrs. Danver’s obsession with Rebecca one of maternal love, not romantic or sexual love.  We can thank Hitchcock for giving it that little twist.

Another thing that caught my attention about the film was that in nearly every scene or shot, there are shadows.  Some shadows were on the walls, some on the floor, and some on the actors.  I don’t know if this was a conscious decision on Hitchcock’s part or not, but it gave the entire film a subtle mysteriousness.  It was like a subliminal manipulation, making the viewer imagine a variety of hidden things – hidden motives, subtle subtext, buried emotions, unseen dangers.  Creepy!

In my research, I found that the movie remained pretty close to the book, due largely in part to producer David Selznick.  The one major difference that he had to concede to was the ending.  Apparently, in the book, Maxim actually did murder Rebecca by shooting her.  But in the movie, he only thought of killing her, whereupon she fell, hit her head, and died.  You see, that little detail had to be altered to comply with the Hollywood Production Code which stated that the murder of a spouse had to be punished.  We can’t have him getting away with something like that!

One of the things that the movie never explained to my satisfaction was the reason behind the Second Mrs. de Winter’s crippling social anxieties.  They gave very little of her back story.  That being said, I really enjoyed Fontaine’s performance.  She made the character’s transition from a painfully shy nobody to the mistress of a rich and powerful man’s estate very believable.  She was overwhelmingly intimidated by her new position and status, and little by little, her character grew into someone who could own the role of being the millionaire’s wife.

All in all, it was a good movie, but then again, you can rarely go wrong with Hitchcock.  He really knew what he was doing.

One last thing.  Watch out for the character of Ben, played by Leonard Carey.  Super-creepy!