Come on Baby, Light My Fire

Films: Joan of Arc
Format: DVD from NetFlix on The New Portable.

As I get down to the last few dozen movies on my Oscars lists, I’m starting to find more and more movies that I avoided for one reason or another. With Joan of Arc, my avoidance happened because the movie wasn’t available anywhere I looked. Oh, I found a shortened version on YouTube that cut something like 45 minutes out of the theatrical release. I’d have watched that if I got desperate enough. But lo! and behold, suddenly NetFlix is carrying the film once again. I have to say this is one that, had I not had it on a list, I’d have walked away from partway through.

Joan of Arc isn’t a bad film; it’s just not a great one, or even a very good one. It’s long and talky and it doesn’t pull this off that well, which means that it’s also long and boring. It suffers as well from putting a mid-30s Ingrid Bergman in the role of a French teenager. We’ll get to that soon enough.

Off Script: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1941)

Film: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1941)
Format: Turner Classic Movies on rockin’ flatscreen.

There’s something oddly reassuring to me about sliding into a film like the 1941 version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I know what’s going to happen in general. I’ve read the story and seen the story depicted on the screen enough to be more than passing familiar with the basic run of events. The big switch here is seeing Spencer Tracy in the role of Dr. Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde. Tracy was so often a warm, paternal presence on the screen that seeing him as a sadistic monster is surprising and kind of fascinating.

This is the pretty standard story with which you are almost certainly familiar. Dr. Henry Jekyll believes that both good and evil exist in every man. Through experimentation, he discovers a formula that more or less enhances his own evil side, which names itself Edward Hyde. When he drinks the formula, the mild-mannered, decent Jekyll becomes the brutish and sadistic Hyde, who more or less lives out the dark fantasies of the good doctor.

Up, Up, and Away

Film: Test Pilot
Format: Turner Classic Movies on rockin’ flatscreen.

As TCM’s 31 Days of Oscar rapidly approaches, I find myself in a position of still having a DVR that is disturbingly close to full. Part of that is that I have a backlog of films that I just haven’t watched yet. Part of that is that I live with a wife and two daughters who record shows and evidently have no desire to ever watch them once they are recorded. I can only do my part to clear my stuff to make room for more, so here I am, watching films that I put on the DVR months ago. Eventually, I’ll catch up. At least that’s what I tell myself. I realized recently that among my recordings are the last three Best Picture films I haven’t seen from 1938. I picked Test Pilot for no real reason save that it was one of those three.

The obvious draw for the time was Clark Gable, but there are a few other joys here, at least for me. Primary among them is Myrna Loy, who I love. If I hadn’t already decided that my classic movie sweetheart was Barbara Stanwyck, Loy would be my choice. In addition to being drop-dead gorgeous, she was also a fine actress and possessed of brilliant comic timing, although that is on display here only a bit. Also present is Spencer Tracy, who is rarely disappointing. And there’s Lionel Barrymore, who seems to have been in pretty much every film of this period.

Fine China

Film: The Good Earth
Format: DVD from Rockford Public Library on laptop.

I’ve spoken of the acting prowess of the great Paul Muni before. He’s a forgotten actor these days, and it’s a damn shame. The man was, in addition to being a commensurate actor, a chameleon. This quality worked against him during his career because he was difficult to market. It works against him now, because he is frequently unrecognizable. In 1937, Muni had three movies released. One, The Life of Emile Zola, won Best Picture. Another, The Good Earth (the subject of this review), was nominated. It was a good year for Muni.

The Good Earth is an oddball of a film for 1937. It’s an epic, but it takes place in China, a world that would be completely alien to the majority of Americans. Once Muni was tagged to play Wang, the lead character of the film, the Hays Code required that any actress playing opposite him in the role of O-Lan, his wife, would need to be white as well. The role was filled by Luise Rainer, who became the first person to win back-to-back acting Oscars thanks to this role. It does feel like an odd film, though, especially these days with white actors in, for lack of a better word, yellowface. Some Chinese actors were used in other roles, but having white actors play foreign roles was hardly unusual for the time.

Fish Out of Water

Film: Captains Courageous
Format: DVD from Rockford Public Library on kick-ass DVD player.

Some stories tell you where they’re going from the first few minutes. Captains Courageous is like that. Once we spend a few minutes with him, there’s no real shock where we’re going to end up. The film is based on a Kipling story, and there’s no shock that this was turned into a film before 1940. It’s a natural for the sort of treatment stories got in the early talkie days—it’s almost as if Kipling wrote it to be turned into a movie.

Young Harvey Cheyne (Freddie Bartholomew) is a child of privilege, and he makes sure that everyone around him knows it. Master Harvey treats the family servants like, well, servants instead of like people and treats his friends as if they exist only for his own pleasure and amusement. In the opening sequence, Harvey is spending a vacation from boarding school at home with his father and a couple of friends. Harvey insists on getting his meals in bed, and then attempts to bribe one of the boys into getting him entrance into a particular school club. There’s precedent for Harvey; he’s one of the editors of the school paper because his father bought the school a printing press.

Sadly for Harvey, he’s confronted by one of his teachers (Donald Briggs) about his attempts at using cash to influence everyone around him. Rather than learning his lesson, Harvey runs away back to home and spins a tale for his father, Frank Burton Cheyne (Melvyn Douglas). But it goes nowhere—Harvey is temporarily booted from school, and his father takes it upon himself to teach the boy something of the world.

This doesn’t last long. On a ship crossing the ocean, Harvey falls overboard after attempting to show off to a couple of other boys. He’s picked up by a fisherman in a dory. This fisherman, a Portuguese sailor named Manuel (pronounced MAN-you-el and played by Spencer Tracy) takes Harvey back to the boat where the young lad encounters the rest of the crew including Captain Disko Troop (Lionel Barrymore), his son Dan (Mickey Rooney), Long Jack (John Carradine), and a number of other salty dogs.

And you can tell where this is going, can’t you? Harvey is going to come of age on this ship, and there are going to be a number of hard lessons for him to learn en route. Manuel will act as his surrogate father for the months the ship spends hauling in cod, and Harvey will resist every lesson he’s taught until he learns the value of hard work, of being a part of the team instead of trying to buy the team, and the real value of other people. You know this is where we’re going; it’s really the only place we can go.

And you know what? It doesn’t matter. Harvey grows up thanks to the attention that is paid him by Manuel, who eventually takes him out in his dory after betting that he and Harvey can bring in more fish than Long Jack and his partner. Harvey tries to guarantee this by fouling Long Jack’s lines. This behavior—precisely in line with the way Harvey has behaved his entire life—but Manuel won’t put up with that sort of a cheat, especially when Long Jack gets stuck and ends up with a hook embedded in his arm. But, when Harvey attempts to apologize and Long Jack gets upset with him, it is Manuel who protects the boy.

And this is the lesson that Harvey needs. From this moment on, he becomes a true member of the crew, helping to bring in the fish, cleaning the ship, and otherwise acting like one of the men aboard. It’s also evident that it’s the first time that Harvey is really happy with himself and with his life. He’s finally learned to be a man, and he discovers that he likes it, likes fishing, and wants to stay with the boat the next time it goes out.

It’s not a stretch to call this film predictable. It’s not a stretch to have a very good idea of what will happen near the end, since this is a coming-of-age story for Harvey. And yet it still works, even though I knew what was on tap for the end.

Why? Because of Spencer Tracy, who is an absolute wonder, as always. I didn’t realize until he actually mentioned that he was intended to be Portuguese; I thought he sounded Italian. But it doesn’t really matter. He speaks English with a sort of familiar foreign patois that indicates he’s been working around English speakers for a long time, but learned the language late enough in life that he never quite got the hang of it. He’s fatherly and sweet, wise, and funny. He is, in short, the kind of a man that young boys wish to be and the sort of man adult men wish they could have turned into.

I admit that I did not go into this movie expecting a whole lot, and I was pleasantly surprised by it. The characters are vibrant and interesting, and even Harvey, once he’s put in his place a bit, is someone worth rooting for. But Spencer Tracy’s mop of curly hair, his hurdy-gurdy playing, and his quiet strength and wisdom carry this picture, and carry it all the way.

Why to watch Captains Courageous: Because Spencer Tracy is an absolute treasure.
Why not to watch: You’ve seen the story one time too many already.

Fiddle-Dee-Dee

Film: Gone with the Wind
Format: Streaming video from NetFlix on middlin’-sized living room television.

Let’s talk movie event, shall we? While there were certainly great movies before Gone with the Wind was released in 1939, there had never really been a film that anyone could call “must see” other than people like me who follow lists made by other people. Other films had spectacle, great casts, epic length, sweeping stories, but until Gone with the Wind, no one put them all in one big shiny package. This film has it all plus a bag of chips, the chips being the fact that it’s in color.

Based on Margaret Mitchell’s book of the same name, the story covers the years immediately prior to the American Civil War, the years during, and the dark years that follow. We concern ourselves mostly with Katie Scarlett O’Hara (Vivian Leigh), a headstrong woman who has never been denied a thing she wanted in her entire life, with one exception. Scarlett wants anything that is possessed by someone else. She wants all of the attention, all of the men, and everything else as well. But what she really wants is Ashley Wilkes (Leslie Howard). Sadly for her, Ashley is engaged to her cousin, Melanie Hamilton (Olivia de Havilland).

What follows, then is one of the great unrequited love stories ever put to film. Scarlett does everything but hump Ashley’s leg every time she sees him, and while Melanie appears to notice this, she doesn’t do anything to discourage it. Melanie, it turns out, is one of those genuinely nice and decent people who look for the best in everybody.

Scarlett marries and is immediately widowed by the war, leaving her free to continue pursuing Ashley. At the same time, she is pursued by Rhett Butler (Clark Gable), a wealthy ne’er-do-well, smuggler, and otherwise shady individual. Scarlett first dislikes and then comes to appreciate the attention of Mr. Butler, mostly because of the “wealthy” part. War eventually comes to the South, Sherman marches to the sea, and Atlanta is burned in Technicolor. And during all of this, Scarlett’s home plantation, Tara, is virtually destroyed, her mother (Barbara O’Neill) dies, and her father (the always great Thomas Mitchell) loses his mind. These are the tough years, during which Scarlett must learn to work the farm herself and not depend on her servants. And just before the intermission, she famously declares that she’ll never go hungry again.

Things are looking up financially in the second half of the film. Scarlett marries again, this time stealing the fiancée of her own sister to get the money to pay the new taxes on Tara. She continues to expand her husband’s new business, operating a sawmill with her beloved Ashley, until her husband is killed while enacting some Klan-style retribution. Widowed again, she is successfully wooed (again, mostly thanks to the money) by Rhett Butler, setting of the stormiest relationship to that point in film history. This involves the birth of a child, the death of the child in a horse riding accident (just like Barry Lyndon. Authors note: keep young children away from horses), a miscarriage, fights, reconciliation, public embarrassment, attempted reconciliation, and, eventually, Clark Gable saying, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn!”

Wow!

So let’s talk about a few of the specifics here. I would be remiss if I didn’t talk at least a little about Hattie McDaniel, who plays the house slave/servant Mammy. McDaniel is both the first African-American nominated for an Oscar and the first to win one, which is quite an achievement. She also earned it. Mammy is one of the more memorable characters from this film. She’s simultaneously protective of the women in her house as concerns outsiders and a harridan around those people for whom she believes a little moral ass-whipping is needed—Scarlett more often than not. While the role itself didn’t do much to advance minority rights or better minority roles in Hollywood, McDaniel made the role hers and sold it so completely that the character has become as legendary as Scarlett and Rhett.

As for the other main players, I may differ from the opinions of a number of people. I don’t really like Scarlett that much. I don’t see her as a figure of feminism or a powerful woman. Instead, she is patently manipulative, scheming, and except when times are very bad, spoiled rotten. Sure, there is evident strength in her when it needs to be there, but when her world is fine financially, she turns into the moral equivalent of a Jell-o mold. She is the stereotype of the fainting Southern belle, always looking for assistance to do any minor task and repaying any and every kindness shown to her by a man with fawning flattery. And except for those poor saps under her spell, it’s immediately obvious what she’s doing and why she’s doing it. She’s an attention whore.

Melanie is a far more interesting character because, while she is physically frail through most of the film, she is morally strong and exhibits a sort of true kindness that someone like Scarlett can see and benefit from, but can emulate only in its most pathetic and saddest form. Melanie is almost purely good, which is of course why Ashley loves her.

And Ashley…Jeez, what a mush. Seriously, he’s perhaps the most unappealing romantic male character ever conceived. The man exhibits one strong opinion in the film at one time, and does so after a decade of stringing Scarlett along by the nose. He’s so concerned with being a nice guy to everyone that he ends up being sort of an asshole.

Finally, we come to Rhett Butler. He’s impossible not to like. He’s morally corrupt, says and does what he pleases, and cares little about the opinions of others, but he looks good doing it. Butler has style. He has panache. He’s the reason women love bad boys.

All told, this is a film you have to watch. It’s not my particular cup of tea, honestly, but it is great and grand in a way that few films are. No other film screams “old Hollywood” the way this one does, and there are perhaps half a dozen scenes in this film that rank among the greatest ever filmed—I can think of three or four right now without even trying. There’s a reason the phrase “must see” exists, and Gone with the Wind was tailor-made for that phrase.

Why to watch Gone with the Wind: The first, best, and greatest definition of Hollywood blockbuster.
Why not to watch: Some of the remarks are cringe-worthy with modern sensibilities.

What a Woman Won't Do for a Pair of Shoes

Film: The Wizard of Oz
Format: The Egyptian Theater

When I was a kid, The Wizard of Oz was on television once a year. If you were like my family, you planned your week around it. When The Wizard of Oz was on, you stayed home and you watched it. Of course, this was in the days before DVRs, DVDs, and even VCRs, so things like The Wizard of Oz appearing on television was an event. Everyone had that one year when he or she missed it, and it really felt like something missed.

I’m not going to discuss much of the plot here. You’ve seen this movie, or you’re a communist. Of course, my wife had never seen this movie until a few years after she and I were married, so your mileage may vary in terms of your political outlook. Seriously, there’s no question of whether or not this film belongs in the hearts and minds of…everyone. Few films have the sort of cultural relevance of this one, and my guess is that should The List be reduced to 100, or to 10, this film would still make the cut.

So, since you’ve undoubtedly already seen this film, let’s talk about some of the details rather than the plot. And if you haven’t seen this film, go watch it and come back. Seriously. If you’re old enough to use the Internet and find this site and you’ve never seen The Wizard of Oz, only breathing could be more important for your cultural and mental future at this moment. Go watch it.

It always surprises me when I see this movie how long we stay in sepia-toned Kansas. A lot happens in Kansas, really. We meet all of the major players who will come back in Oz. Of course, we’re introduced to Dorothy Gale (Judy Garland) and her dog Toto (who is played by a dog named Toto. Go figure). We encounter the farmhands who work on the Gale family farm: Hunk (Ray Bolger), Hickory (Jack Haley), and Zeke (Bert Lahr), who will show up in Oz as the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Lion respectively.

We also meet Miss Gulch (Margaret Hamilton), who shows up later as the Witch. And of course, there’s also Professor Marvel (Frank Morgan), who is the Wizard and about half a dozen minor characters once we reach the Emerald City. But really, there’s a lot to Kansas—the whole plot with Toto being destroyed by the police, and Dorothy running away, and the twister, and of course “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” which is the first we get to hear the angelic voice of Judy Garland.

The moment when Dorothy opens the door into Oz is still one of the most magical moments ever captured on film. I don’t have anything else to say about that.

Like many a good children’s movie, there are some genuinely scary parts of this film. The flying monkeys are really pretty terrifying, especially for little kids. When I was a little kid, the scariest part of the film for me was seeing the Witch’s face appear in the crystal ball when she’s trying to kill off Dorothy in the castle. That moment still gets to me.

As with the length of time in Kansas, I’m always a little surprised at how short this film is. Things happen very quickly. I remember as a kid thinking that it took forever for the Lion to show up, but he’s actually a part of the group relatively quickly. And if you really think about the film, those scenes that you remember don’t have much filler between them. They come one right after the other in pretty rapid succession.

It’s also somewhat in vogue to pick out all of the weird little inconsistencies or problems in this film, and there are a number of them. Glinda the Good Witch of the North (Billie Burke) could have sent Dorothy home right away—but instead she enlisted the girl in her own private war against the Witch of the West, putting Dorothy in harm’s way and forcing her to kill. Yeah, okay. Seen it. But there is one unresolved plot point that bears some thought. Once back in Kansas, Dorothy seems to have forgotten that Miss Gulch has a police order out for the destruction of Toto, which means the little dog should have probably stayed over the rainbow with the Tin Man.

But so what? Sure, it’s a silly movie in many places. It’s overly simplistic, moves too quickly in spots, and even the advice learned by Dorothy at the end of her journey is not only simplistic but possibly dangerously narrow-minded. And I don’t care. It’s The Wizard of Oz. It’s nostalgia and warmth, it’s a cozy blanket on a cold night, it’s home and happiness, and seeing kids smile when Toto escapes from a basket and runs for help. It’s childhood, and it’s special, for all of its faults.

I hadn’t planned on watching this film for quite a few months, but when the opportunity to see it in a classic old movie theater with an interior of pyramids and Egyptian statues arose, how could I not? And how could I not take my girls? And how could I not fall in love with it all over again in that environment?

Why to watch The Wizard of Oz: Don’t be stupid—it’s The Wizard of Oz.
Why not to watch: Because your inner child is dead.