Like Random Harvest, Little Nellie Kelly, and a handful of others, Four Daughters is a film that I’ve found myself identifying strongly with.  Surely, we all imagine ourselves or tie our lives into every film plot we meet, but some films allow us to come away with just a little more understanding of ourselves and force us to think a little more about who we want to be.  Four Daughters is one of those films for me.

The film centers around the Lemp family–daughters of musician Adam Lemp (Claude Rains): Emma (Gale Page), Thea (Lola Lane), Kay (Rosemary Lane), and Ann (Priscilla Lane).  In to their lives, comes charming Felix Dietz (Jeffrey Lynn) who turns the girls’ lives upside down when they all think they’re in love with him.  Problem for three of the Lemp girls is that Felix has a preference toward gate swingers.  The lives of the girls are complicated even further when Felix hires a moody fellow, Mickey Borden (John Garfield), to help him with a composition he’s entering in a contest.  The film’s mood turns on a single glance from Mickey to Felix—and therein lies the beauty and depth that Four Daughters takes on.

There’s something about seeing how real sisters interact that is hard to duplicate.  Rosemary and Priscilla might not have gotten along in later years for whatever reason, but you can see the real affection between sisters in this film.  Same can be said for Loretta Young with her sisters in The Story of Alexander Graham Bell.  That something might just be life experience and relationships built throughout an entire lifetime and it probably is, but Gale Page fits right in the mold as well.

I’m not the only fan who truly adores the Lemp Sisters, Adam Lemp, Dietz, Aunt Etta and Mickey Borden, there are many out there who have come across this trilogy of films and have taken bits and pieces of it claiming them as our own.  Most people love Ann Lemp best (I’ve got a handful of Anns in my posse), but I’ve claimed Kay Lemp with her love of chocolates, yen for being lazy, lack of ambition and love of song, as well as fondness for living in daydreams.  Lola, Rosemary, and Priscilla actually had two more sisters—one who didn’t go into show business and another, Leota, who had success on Broadway, but after Gale Page stepped into the role of Emma for the film and was often referred to as “the other Lane Sister.”  These characters are so rich that we all can find a piece of ourselves swinging on the doors of a white picket fence.

Gate swinging and white picket fences—the proverbial American dream—was rarely dissected on film though Warner Brothers had a history of making most of the effort to do so—to question the norm, to question good and evil and to draw a nice grey area.  It’s quite apt that James Garfield made his debut in a Warner Brothers film.  The world had never seen anyone like Garfield on film.  He was smoldering, he was a rebel (often described as the pre-cursor to James Dean), he stole scenes—he was dangerous intellectually and emotionally.  His characters questioned everything that was status quo and then turned all of his observations on their heads once he mingled with the rainbow’s end or some semblance of happiness.  Garfield’s fan base is why Warner Brothers placed his pan on the cover of the DVD and all subsequent contemporary advertising for the sequel (Four Wives) and similar spin-off (Daughters Courageous) released the same year.  [The former is an interesting use of a character who shall we say—disappears?  More on that later].  Surely audiences were ready for a fellow like Garfield to come along and take all cliché’s for a spin.

Priscilla Lane is engaging and youthful as Ann.  It’s hard to imagine anyone who didn’t find her infectious—certainly not I.  Matched with John Garfield, she’s immense.  She could take on scenes with him without losing her presence and challenge his crazy ideas with equally philosophical quips.  It’s Priscilla that carries the film and subsequent films.  Ann’s relationship with Felix Dietz and the drama that unfolds is beautifully done at every turn.  The characters are introduced in such subtle ways and yet you really feel like you have a handle on every one of them—regardless of Mickey Borden’s observations.  For instance, Felix dictating how one should swing on a gate immediately gives you a solid picture of his leading trait—the ability to jump into situations and micromanage them in the most delightful and charming way.  The script was beautifully adapted from the original stories from women’s issues writer Fannie Hurst.  Been my goal for some time to get my hands on the original stories and it just hasn’t happened yet.  Hopefully one day I’ll have even more insight into that transition.

Claude Rains is lovable in this film.  Prior to Four Daughters, I had identified Claude with darker roles.  It’s a lovely change to see him as the incorrigible Beethoven-loving family man who loves all of his daughters.  Along with him, his sister Etta (May Robson) is charming and perfect in her role as well.

Fashion is another element in this film that I love.  There are few clothes on the girls that I don’t love except maybe one thing that Rosemary wears.  It’s all lovely.  I’ve been looking for ages for a wrap like the lace one Priscilla wears during the birthday party.  It’s lovely.  I will find something some day, but for anyone that knows me well, the idea of me actually considering fashion is generally laughable, but after watching Four Daughters and Four Wives, I find myself envying clothes.

The screen captures included in this review are from the Warner Brothers Archive edition of Four Daughters.  I’m so glad that Warner Brothers released the film on DVD.  Don’t get me wrong, but it really could use some restoration and because it’s Garfield’s screen debut.  I would have rather seen a box set of Four Daughters, Daughters Courageous, Four Wives, and Four Mothers just given how many of my own friends love the series.  It’s unfortunate that more time and attention wasn’t given to this film and the films to follow.  There’s about a whole reel where there’s a line midway through the left portion of the screen and that’s more than a bit irritating.

Though my favorite film in the series is Four Wives, I adore Four Daughters just about as much.  The film starts off seemingly ordinary, but suddenly packs an emotional punch.  It’s rare when a script is tight and deep enough to send you through every major emotion without becoming too convoluted or taking itself too seriously, but Four Daughters does so and how.

Been a while since I’ve seen The Story of Alexander Graham Bell and I’ve always loved it, so when I saw it was going to be on Fox Movie Channel again, I couldn’t help but record a fresh copy on my DVR.  It occurred to me only a few minutes into the film that I incorrectly named my iPhone and decided after nearly a year that it should be named Ameche.  [Really, I'm not obsessed at all.]

The film opens with a fellow who walked ten miles to give a lady a message.  She says he shouldn’t have walked all the way over and he assures it was no problem as it was only a two hour walk.  Only a two hour walk–hits home now, especially as we don’t even need to walk over to a telephone wire to receive a call.  In 1939, the telephone was well-used but still fairly new–really didn’t catch on in the United States until the 1920s.  After this film’s release, Ameche became a household name for telephone.  Now his name is but a memory when attached to the telephone except to the faithful few fans who love this film.

Alexander Graham Bell (Don Ameche) is in the process of inventing a more efficient telegraph.  He has trouble getting backing and decides to go to dinner at the home of a man who has the means and the leverage to potentially back his project if Graham worked with his daughter (Loretta Young) who lost her hearing when she was only a little girl with Scarlet Fever.

Ameche plays Bell as an absent-minded professor–always living in his mind with his leading trait running his hand through his hair when he gets into a spot.    When he tries to convey ideas, Alexander speaks with so much enthusiasm that you would think that Ameche would become lost in the lines the way they trip eloquently off the tongue.  The following dialogue is from testimony given by Bell to protect his patent:

“…shall the lonely scientist, the man who dreams, and out of his dreams benefits the world, is he, that often half-starved, lonely little man, to be told the world has no need of him the moment his work is done?  Is he to be told that others, less gifted, but stronger, men with money and power behind them, are waiting to take the product of his genius and turn it to their own uses–leaving him with liar and thief branded on his brow as his only reward? Do that, and you stop the clock of progress. You smother the spark of genius that lies hidden here and there throughout the world. Do that, and the world stands still.”

Bell’s plea really brings the plot around to a lovely end.  It’s lovely, progressive, and idealistic.  In fact, through Alexander Graham Bell, the film itself mocks points of view outside of science a bit.  Hollywood also gave Don Ameche back his baby-face, when he left his trademark mustache behind.

History and Hollywood took many liberties with the film.  It’s a little ironic in the historical time frame that someone who was half Italian played a Alexander Graham Bell, a Scotchman.  There has been much debate well over the past 100 years about who really invented the telephone.  The United States government acknowledged Italy’s Antonio Meucci’s early work on the telephone in 2002 after a long battle by Italy for recognition.  That didn’t end the debate by historians though.  Like Bell in the film, Meucci didn’t have any tangible evidence of his invention, so the battle rages on.

Hollywood played around a bit with events, though it follows Bell’s life a bit closer than many biographical pictures did at the time.  Darryl F. Zanuck, as head of Fox, was quite interested in these biopics.  Within three years, they made many films based on inventors, politicians and entertainers including: In Old Chicago (1937, the O’Leary family in Chicago) Lillian Russell (1940), Swanee River (Don Ameche also starred in this film, also released in 1939 as Stephen Foster), Young Mr. Lincoln (1939, Henry Fonda), and Jesse James (1939, Henry Fonda).  That’s only the beginning.  Could rattle off Tyrone Power films and others made by Fox at the same time.

Loretta Young’s three sisters who were actresses appeared in this film as Loretta’s sisters.  It was the first and only time this happened.  Loretta is beautiful in this film, just radiant and enchanting–very sympathetic character, indeed.  She could have played the role for sympathy though the dialogue clearly dismisses any urge to feel pity for her character.  She provides ‘Alec’ the friendly ear to bounce ideas off of and inspiration when he’s ready to give up.  (Incidentally, Young rivals Alice Faye for the most film appearances with Don Ameche, she was just one short of Faye–unless you count Clive of India where Don Ameche had a bit part–still haven’t spotted him).

The film also sports a great supporting cast that includes Henry Fonda (just coming into recognition), Spring Byington, Charles Coburn, Gene Lockhart, and the lovely Henry Davenport who must have played a judge in at least 10 films.  Spring’s character is not so easily flustered in this film, which is a nice change of pace for one of her roles.  Gene Lockhart has beautifully acted scenes with child star Bobs Watson.  Henry Fonda is charming with the gift of timing and wit you generally don’t see in his roles.

Over all, the film is magnificently, if not masterfully done. Though it had no recognition by Oscar, it might have had it been released in another year, perhaps the film would have garnered more awards.  Oakland Times reviewer H. M. Levy said this of Alexander:

On occasion, the motion picture becomes a radiant and perfect thing, fulfilling its emotional and intellectual mission with a completeness that defies the cynic’s sneer and the fool’s ridicule. Such a play is “The Story of Alexander Graham Bell,”  which started what should become a long and useful career at the Paramount yesterday—one destined to reach the dizzy heights, perhaps, of 1939’s “big” films.

The excellence of this biography lies in the careful fusing of incident and characterization; of inspired acting and masterful direction; of gentility and conflict; of realism and the stuff of dreams. Each element would have made an acceptable drama; all of them together form a monumental and beautiful work.

- H. M. Levy, Oakland Tribune, April 7, 1939

A stunning contemporary tribute to the film, Levy speaks to the importance the film may have had in another year.  Don Ameche had been panned a bit for earlier roles as invoked again by Levy who says Don Ameche gave a “surprising” performance.  He called Loretta Young’s performance “delightfully different.”  All of the performances were wonderful, however, and it all gels together with just the right dose of emotional charge.

Once Upon a Honeymoon is a wonderful comedy about the Nazi deluge of Europe.  Sounds hideous, right?  Not so much.  Not when you add Ginger Rogers and Cary Grant to the mix.  Not when you have witty dialogue and sensitivity to the subject matter.  This is a comedy, make no bones about it and the dialogue is highly quotable.  In fact, I got carried away on the filmography page for the film.

Baroness Katherine Von Luber (Ginger Rogers) meets newspaper reporter Patrick O’Toole (Cary Grant) while he is under the guise of being a tailor. O’Toole believes his way into what goes on with the Nazis is through the Baroness and her husband, Baron Von Luber (Walter Slezak). O’Toole follows the Honeymooners while each country visited seems to fall. At the same time, he tries to convince Katherine Von Luber that the Baron isn’t the man she thinks he is.

Though there were several films in the 1940s such as The Great Dictator (1940) which included plot lines involved with the Nazi party, this film is unique in both being a comedy and taking the locales and the tension into the mix with the sensitivity it should be dealt with–a task one can really only do by walking a fine line with upmost care. To Be or Not To Be (1942) took a view of the Nazi party that made them look highly incapable of doing anything. Once Upon a Honeymoon, which also premiered in late 1942, gives us a better look into the successes of human element of both side and the unfortunate success of the Nazi party up until that point in time.

The film also gives us a look at concentration camps and tugs on our heartstrings as we follow the story of Katherine Von Luber’s Jewish maid and her children. This is really the first humanistic look that I can recall of the inner workings of the Nazi party–and one of the few Americans got during the war, especially the scene where Katherine talks to the Young Nazi who says he is to be married after the war only to find out he had been gunned down only hours later. At least for a space of a moment, you see this fellow as a human being rather than ‘the other.’ Mrs. Miniver is probably the best known film for stirring pro-war favor and giving the allies a human face, but there’s an edge and a dehumanizing element given to the Nazi that needs help you don’t find in Once Upon a Honeymoon. Baron Von Luber, even as Nazi number 5, is given frailties, which is more than a bit shocking considering the scope of the Nazi party and the damage they did in the extermination of millions and the structural damage to large cities and small villages that in some places in Europe still haven’t been repaired.

Ginger Rogers was at her prime when this film was released. Every review I’ve found in this era suggested Ginger should have received an Academy Award nomination had she not received one for Kitty Foyle. The following comes from the Fresno Bee, “As for Miss Rogers’ own performance, many a Hollywood previewer came out of the projection room calling it the best of her career.”  Though Ginger had to play her character as naive in the beginning of the film, it didn’t come off as goofy as some of her other characters which grate on my nerves just a little, little bit (Tom, Dick and Harry for once).  There was a lovely character arc as her character learns more about what goes on.

Cary Grant, despite what the reviewer from the Fresno Bee said, was lovely in the film. He’s the charming Cary we all come to know and love, with the wit and dead pan that can keep ‘em rolling in the isles. He takes on the role of ‘der fitter’ in order to get a news story out of Katherine. Instead of bringing a soft measuring tape, he brings a plastic one and much fun ensues out of the scene. The chemistry between Grant and Rogers is pretty lovely, too.

And then we have Walter Slezak, who has the difficult task of playing the Nazi whose honeymoon we follow. Somehow, I don’t know if it’s Walter himself or his role in the film, the man comes off as charming in his own right. He’s someone you love to hate.

This film has been overlooked and under-appreciated by film historians simply as a glimpse of how Hollywood viewed the war and the inner-workings of the Nazi party. Sometimes it’s easier to look at the fluff on the surface. At the time, there was more than a bit of controversy over the concentration camp scene. I think it’s just more important that it was mentioned and that there is a strain of the despair therein.

Big Bear Lake as the stand-in for the Adirondacks has never been so much fun as it is in Having Wonderful Time.

Teddy Shaw (Ginger Rogers) only gets two weeks vacation every year.  Her friend Kitty suggests she go to camp Kare-Free, which is advertised as a luscious retreat with luxurious private cabanas and loads of fresh air and lovely scenery.  When Teddy arrives, after we see her fighting through loads of family all bunched up in a small New York flat, she finds herself surrounded by people and escorted by a frustrated waiter (Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.) to a small cabin with three other girls (Lucille Ball, Eve Arden, and Peggy Conklin).  Teddy wants to go home, but a talk in the light of a full moon convinces her to stay around.

Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. said in his autobiography, The Salad Days, that originally when they filmed the movie Fairbanks and Rogers did Brooklyn-Bronx accents. When they screened the film in the midwest nobody could understand them, so they had to redub the entire film much to the chagrin of the executives. This was Fairbanks’ third film of four released in 1938.  The others were Joy of Living, The Rage of Paris, and The Young in Heart.  The years just before the war had promise of a great career ahead of him, which he just didn’t quite achieve after the war.

When Having Wonderful Time was released Holiday and The Joy of Living were playing as well–both films also look at whether wealth is important and whether or not society should intrude on living life with substance and quality rather than by the dictates of class or family.  The film was panned by critics.  The review from the Oakland Tribune said that the B picture was far superior and despite the acting skills of Rogers and Fairbanks, the plot was so inferior to the original play that not even the best actors could dredge it from the depths.

Being completely unfamiliar with the play, I think the only thing wrong with the film is that it actually comes off a little heavy-handed at times.  Would have been a little more fun intellectually if Teddy and Chick delved a little farther into why society has forced them into this little corner of the earth in the Catskills to forge for fresh air and a good time without bringing the moon so far into the equation. Then again, we might not have gotten Ginger Rogers’ backgammon insanity and that is necessary, because it makes me happy.  Although, it always drives me a little batty when a Ginger Rogers character acts naive.  Ginger is great playing that character, but because she’s so quick with the quips and so able to deliver great turns of phrase I always expect more from her characters than they deliver in certain films.

One possible cause of the film’s holes may be Red Skelton.  He made his debut in this film, though the powers that be didn’t particularly care for his antics and left a lot of his screen time on the cutting room floor.  This could be why the film is a little on the short side at 70 minutes and why some substance is lost.  Perhaps if his character were a little more fleshed out and involved with the rest of the cast in some fashion, he would be less of a novelty and more of a fixture for the film.  That’s a lot to ask of a script that doesn’t quite meet it’s predecessor, but it may explain the gaps better than I’m able to articulate.

Although, I must say, the title of this film is always altered out of telegram form and I’ve fought hard throughout this review not to add the ‘a’.   Perhaps it was obvious at the time, but there’s no reference to the title in the movie.  Might havehelped if she sent a telegram with “Having Wonderful Time” to her ex-boyfriend in New York, at least that would give a reason for why he just seems to show up out of the blue.

Overall, the film works, but it doesn’t quite gel together as it may have been intended to.  And I can’t help but be pleased to see Ginger and Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. together.  Fairbanks does well at portraying characters who are analytical and self-aware, simply because he was both fairly insecure and self-aware himself.  Ginger is excellent at just about anything.  The film is a pleasure to watch, eccentricities and all.

It’s films such as this one that make me wish I could have seen Havana in it’s golden days.  If only life were as lovely as a Fox film in Technicolor.  The color, the music–all lovely.

I am ashamed to say in my early days of film watching, I sometimes confused Week-End in Havana with Romance on the High Seas.  There’s this lovely scene in the latter that I wish was in the beginning of Havana. Doris Day’s character goes to a travel agency (clearly something she does often) and looks up various trips she can take once she’s saved enough money.  Everyday it’s the same thing.  It’s this scene that confused everything for me, because as both films start on a cruise ship and there the similarities end other than the lavish technicolor in both films. Still, the hopes and expectations of what a cruise would entail and potential romances aboard drives both films.

Week-End in Havana centers on Nan Spencer (Alice Faye), a clerk in the lingerie department at Macy’s, is asked to sign a waver after the cruise ship she’s on is in an accident and she’s privy to why the accident occurred.  In return for her signature on a waver for Jay Williams (John Payne), Nan decides that she must be sent to Havana right away and be assured of a good time.  Williams tries to entertain her the best he knows how, but realizes quickly that the fellow who tried to pick her up (Cesar Romero) at a nightclub might be a more suitable choice despite his character.  To make things more complicated, Monte (Romero) is involved with Rosita Rivas (Carmen Miranda) who becomes jealous of the blonde.  Jay Williams should be in New York getting married, but finds himself tied up in Havana a bit longer than he had bargained for.

Alice Faye generally plays women who are modest though peppy, but Nan Spencer wants to have fun.  It’s not all fun and games though, because she’s got the timing for comebacks that Ginger Rogers does in this film.  John Payne steps out of character a bit from his roles where he plays the fellow always trying to get ahead at the cost of others, to a man always trying to get ahead at the loss of his personality–always hiding behind a pair of reading glasses. Alice made five films with John Payne within four years.  The first, Tin Pan Alley, was released in 1940,Week-End in Havana and Great American Broadcast found release dates in 1941 and The Gang’s All Here and “Hello, Frisco, Hello” came out in 1943.  Payne switched off a bit as a leading man with Don Ameche.

Carmen and Cesar add the prescribed Latin flavor to the film.  The dialogue is lovely though tainted with American views of Latin culture at times.  It’s fairly easy to forgive when Cesar Romero and Carmen Miranda have their battles.  I cringe at the thought of Carmen butchering the English language for show so when in reality she was a very intelligent woman–one of the top money makers in the business.  Bananas ‘is’ her business.  They’re lovable characters you really want to like in the end.

The music is lovely.  Carmen Miranda has four solo numbers, quite a lot considering this was only her second film and her second film with a substantial part.  Substantial enough to give her billing above the title along with Alice Faye, John Payne, and Cesar Romero.  Week-End in Havana was released the same year That Night in Rio and where she played a similar role–jealous nightclub singer, still–it works.  She sings “Week-End in Havana,” “Rebola a Bola (Embolada),” “When I Love, I Love,” “The Ñango,” and a short reprise with the main cast members.

Alice Faye has two songs and a reprise or tw0–her solos are “Romance and Rhumba” and “Tropical Magic.”  The latter she does as a duet with John Payne later in the film.  Alice’s version of “The Man with the Lollypop Song” was left on the cutting room floor, but the footage still exists and is included on the DVD.

Everything about this film is luscious in grand 20th Century Fox style.  Great music makes it enjoyable to watch on a rainy day when you want to be transported to beautiful Havana.  Fox has remastered the film beautifully, as it seems to take great care with all of it’s Alice Faye films.  It is much appreciated by fans such as myself and it only makes it that much easier to spend a few hours in Hollywood-ized Havana of yore in the midst of Romero, Miranda, Payne and Faye.

The suffrage movement is rarely documented on film. I can only think of a handful of films where the movement makes a dominant appearance and The Shocking Miss Pilgrim is one of them.  A theme close to my heart, with the proper viewpoint, The Shocking Miss Pilgrim has always been a favorite of mine.

Miss Pilgrim (Betty Grable) appears to Bostonians to lack all propriety.  You see, Miss Pilgrim is from New York.  She just graduated top of her class from Packard Business College which started a program to get typewriters–male and female–trained so that a typewriter company could actually makes some sales.  Miss Pilgrim finds herself on a train to Boston after she draws Prichard Shipping Company in Boston.  When she arrives, she  is odds with Mr. Prichard (Dick Haymes) and just about fifty percent of Boston as well.  Miss Pilgrim finds lodging with a group of outcasts who aid her with confidence in changing the minds of prim and proper Bostonians, including Mr. Prichard.

Betty Grable shows very little skin as Mrs. Pilgrim which is why critics say it tanked in box office.  It’s unfortunate, because it’s a lovely little film and Betty gets to be a bit more subdued in it and that, frankly, makes me happy.  She does some lovely numbers like “Changing My Tune,” “For You, For Me, Forevermore,” “Waltz Me No Waltzes Sitting Down,” and “Aren’t You Kind of Glad We Did?”  No big dance numbers, unless you count a couple twirls around her bedroom during “Changing My Tune” and it’s reprise.  Just a lovely battle for knife against scissors–a strong argument and solution for women’s rights.

Now, I must admit a little bias.  All my feminist views are dashed when it comes to Dick Haymes.  I wish it weren’t so, but it is.  Like Nelson Eddy and Bing Crosby, he could sing the phonebook and it would make me deliriously happy.  This is by far my favorite film of his.  Mr. Prichard’s life is controlled by women–his aunt who owns an interest in his company, his deep affection that he clearly has for his mother in a relationship that appears to be on an even keel, now he has the first woman typewriter in Boston on his hands–he clearly has affection and respect for women and yet he refuses to bend on women’s rights.  While defending male dominance, he shares the screen beautifully with Betty Grable singing duets of every song mentioned above except “Changing My Tune.”  Oh, he has beautiful solo parts of the songs, too, but he does share his screen time nicely.

I just took a glance at the filmography of Elisabeth Risdon who played Mr. Prichard’s mother.  She has 149 credits on IMDb and yet her biography is only a line long stating that she was a silent star in the UK and made many films during the 30s and 40s in the US.  While watching the film again, I thought to myself that I hadn’t recognized her from other films.  I’m sad that I never recognized her before.  She’s been in many films I have seen, but many more that I haven’t, however, looking back at a couple films–specifically Random Harvest and Theodora Goes Wild, I wouldn’t have recognized her for the life of me.  She makes very short screen appearances in these two films, but in The Shocking Miss Pilgrim she has an ever so slightly longer, more memorable role.  She’s so elegant, too–her character is sensitive and just plain lovely.

Anne Revere is wonderful as Aunt Alice, too.  Aunt Alice, the woman who has a tendency to get things done and does so with a whole lot of repetition.  It’s charming.  This may have been the first film I noticed Anne in come to think of it, but my favorite film of hers by far is her role as Mrs. Brown in National Velvet for which she won an Oscar–such strong women she played.

The supporting eccentrics are genuinely a pleasure to watch.  We have Allyn Joslyn as a poet (also in Heaven Can Wait).  Arthur Shields plays Michael, a painter who only wants to paint in bright colors.  Lillian Bronson is Viola Simmons, a woman who wants to completely re-write the dictionary using common words in new ways–”Balloon is used for full, because the double ‘O’ gives it a fuller sound.”  It’s grand.  Charles Kemper plays a fellow who wants to change the way people read music–music by color.  Last but not least, we have the den mother of the establishment, Catharine Dennison, play by Elizabeth Patterson, who was in many, many films, but is probably best known for being on “I Love Lucy.”

This film has many strong points–the plot, the songs are lovely (they were also recorded on Decca’s label by Dick Haymes and Judy Garland), oh–everything is very happy-making.  The only thing that’s troubling is that it couldn’t pull in higher numbers at the box office.

It’s somehow both twisted and touching that Judy Garland’s last film for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer is set on a farm.  Garland’s first feature film appearance was for Fox and she debuted as Sairy Dodd, catching watermelons heaved like footballs from her backwards brother on the family farm. Then of course, there is Garland’s iconic role as Dorothy.  Never noticed it until just now, but the outfit Jane wears in the beginning of the film is oddly reminiscent of Dorothy Gale’s gingham dress–a 50s update, perhaps?  Intentional or not (and I would wager not), it’s one of many elements of Summer Stock that can be way over-analyzed.  For instance, Jane pulling off a page of her calendar to June 22, the date of Garland’s untimely death.  Never ceases to be a bit spooky to see that scene.

Summer Stock centers on Jane Falbury (Judy Garland) trying to keep her family farm after losing workers that had been with the family for years.  She gets a tractor on loan from her fiancee’s father to try to do the work herself.  This seems perfect for Jane, vowing to pay down the tractor so she brings no debts to the marriage. Unfortunately, Jane’s plans go awry when her little sister (Gloria DeHaven) promises a troop of actors that they can rehearse on the farm.  Jane lets them stay if they can help with the farm work, but one of the actors (Phil Silvers) spins out of control while using the tractor.  Everything seems at a loss.

This is the last of the dubbed ‘barnyard musicals’ that Garland appeared in.  Mickey Rooney was no longer a fraction of the box office draw he once was.  Gene Kelly was then called in for the role much to his chagrin.  Gene always said he did the film for Judy in thanks for what she had taught him during the filming of For Me and My Gal.  He appreciated Judy’s talent and you can see in the dance numbers he really played to her strengths.  She really seems comfortable in her dance routines with him.  They really didn’t dance together in their second film, The Pirate, but they did have a couple short dance numbers as well as two charming knock-out routines in For Me and My Gal. Summer Stock, because of the simple way it was scripted, gave them both the opportunity to revisit the basics.

Despite the low expectations for the film and the flimsy script, Kelly and Garland did salvage a lot of lovely moments in the film to make it pleasant to watch.  Gene Kelly took on philosophy of his character,

“Look, the way I see it, the farm needs a tractor–me, I don’t need a station wagon.  It got us up here, that’s all that matters.  When the show’s a hit, I’ll buy two to take us home in.”

The script provided a station wagon.  It was a means to an end.  Kelly could help Judy Garland and make opportunities for himself to do numbers that brought the simple story line a bit more substance.  Not only was Kelly in a position to humble himself to the task, his character was humble, too.  Kelly’s Joe Ross may have been his most humble screen persona.

As Jane Falbury, Judy Garland does a lot of yelling, a lot of hoofing, and a lot of pondering under the harvest moon.  She has five dance numbers, quite a lot for a Judy Garland film.  She sings six numbers as well.  The highlights though are when she dances “The Portland Fancy” along with Gene Kelly, plays the love interest and does a bit of a soft shoe in “You Wonderful You,” sings a ballad seeking a “Friendly Star,” and last but not least there is “Get Happy” which feels out of place for many reasons, but couldn’t possibly be replaced in the film or omitted.  It wouldn’t be Summer Stock without it.

Gloria DeHaven is deliciously annoying as Jane’s little sister.  One feels the need to slap her.  I’ve never figured out why her hair had to be dyed.  Were they trying to make her less appealing to give Judy a little more gloss in comparison?  It’s hard to say.  DeHaven sings “Mem’ry Island” and sadly doesn’t appear in any more numbers.  Her character has the job of leaving Joe’s show and apparently that was enough to satisfy director Chuck Walters or the powers that be.

Marjorie Main makes her third and final screen appearance with Garland–the other two films were Meet Me in St. Louis and The Harvey Girls. She’s so much fun in this film.  She’s a little more like Ma Kettle in this one than the two previous films with Garland.  Main said she loved working with Judy and it shows in the chemistry between the two of them.

With a grand supporting cast, Garland and Kelly make the best of a dull premise.  Summer Stock is one of those films that grows on you.  You may not like it the first time, second time–fifth time, but eventually it sneaks up on you and becomes lovely and familiar like an old friend.

What if you could choose whether or not you belong in heaven or hell and had to interview either above or below for the opportunity of the lodgings?  A New York playboy who loves chorus girls as much as he does avoiding work chooses hell without reservations for a string of life long misdemeanors–literally, which gives him the opportunity to share his life story with the figure he  politely calls His Excellency.

Heaven Can Wait boasts ‘The Lubitsch Touch,’ making the playful roaming eye of Henry Van Cleve seem absolutely reasonable for his character and the understandable nature of the devil himself quite logical in the world he spun.  The film is a feast for the viewer in technicolor, gorgeous sets, and period settings.  Everything feels realistic, but at the same time with the narration of Henry Van Cleve you’re transported to another place and time.  A place that’s a little simpler, a little more sincere, and often more colorful than our everyday mundane world.

Don Ameche plays the man who is sure of his place, Henry Van Cleve.  This is by far one of Don Ameche’s most endearing film roles.  Through his narration, the film takes us through his life from infancy to death allowing us to see the relationships he had with the women in his life as well as that of his grandfather and son.  Like His Excellency, Henry Van Cleve doesn’t seem to have many redeeming qualities except for his charm, but he’s lovable because of the things he does and the high regard he has for people even if he doesn’t always do the right thing.

Henry’s personality is contrasted with that of his cousin Albert (Allyn Joslyn).  Cousin Albert can do nothing wrong.  He plays by the book, finds and becomes engaged to the girl of Henry’s dreams, and is a genuine stuffed-shirt tattle tale.  It drives home the issue of how one should live their life–conform as Albert was perfectly comfortable with doing often at the expense of others or make the most life trying to keep those who love you happy.  And by bringing Strable family into the Van Cleve family, Heaven Can Wait delves into how one makes their fortune.  Martha Strable (Gene Tierney) is considered a good match for Albert by his parents because she comes from a well-made respectable family.  His grandfather

(Charles Coburn), on the other hand, can’t help but pick on the Kansas-based in-laws.  Henry changes everything when he falls in love with Martha Strable caring little about where her family came from.  The contrast makes for many amusing scenes in the film with Grandfather Van Cleve always choosing to help Henry over Albert.

Laird Cregar does a brilliant job as the devilish lord of the underworld.  He’s lovable.  He truly is.  And that smile and the flash of his eyes seal the deal.  He is a devil.  It’s extremely unfortunate that his career was cut short by his untimely death, because he really could have mastered many more character roles.

And of course there is Gene Tierney, the lovely Martha (Strable) Van Cleve, the girl Henry takes away from his cousin.  Tierney is particularly strong in her portrayal of the later years of their marriage.  She plays a lovely, wistful mature old woman for her 22 years of life.  Her film career picked up fairly quickly, starting in 1940 when she was fresh off Broadway.

Other stand out performances came from Spring Byington as Henry’s mother and Mr. and Mrs. Strable played by Eugene Pallette and Marjorie Main.  Spring nearly steals every scene, but it’s Main and Pallette who quickly gain validity to their characters over a long dining table, a bit of silent treatment, and curiosity about how the hero of a comic manages to get out of a barrel.  It’s brilliantly done.  You see within a few seconds exactly how the relationship works–and not only do you see the dysfunction, you see the dysfunction as advertised by Martha.  It says so much about how wealth may buy an extraordinarily long dinner table and a butler, but it won’t buy you peace of mind.

A classic, an essential, Heaven Can Wait is a grand film with lovable characters, beautiful backdrops, and a lot of heart.  A must watch for any film fan.

The calla lilies are in bloom again–such a strange flower, suitable to any occasion.  I carried them on my wedding day and now I place them here in memory of something that has died.

Perhaps Katharine Hepburn’s most famous lines, taken from a failed play in which she played the lead in 1933.  Stage Door follows aspiring actresses into the world of grease paint and heartache.  One actress tries to find success through important connections (Gail Patrick), another wants to go about it through hard work and persistence even though she begins to fall short (Ginger Rogers), still another had success and her star has already fallen after one great run (Andrea Leads).  We are to follow one aspiring actress specifically, one who has never worked in the theatre, who seems to have the world as her oyster and who has the confidence to pull strings, but is short on talent and the heartbreak to allow her to give a mature performance (Katharine Hepburn).

Hepburn delivers the calla lilies lines with so much heart and sensitivity it really feels like she broke out of the Hepburn mold and has become Terry Randall channeling the character of Kay Hamilton.  On occasion, especially in her earlier films, Katharine Hepburn was melodramatic and disconnected from her roles a bit.  This was Hepburn’s only bright spot of the mid-thirties as far as the critics were concerned prior to 1940 with The Philadelphia Story.  Most of her successful films had a balance of lightness in large doses to the melodrama.  It’s clear from Stage Door that she could carry a film if she didn’t take herself too seriously.

Hepburn is not the center of Stage Door, however. The ensemble cast includes a 14 -year-old-who-forged-her-age-as-17- year-old Ann Miller, the on-top-of-her-game Lucille Ball, the always amusing Eve Arden, Adolph Menjou as the producer who sets everything a-flurry, a very young Jack Carson  who was just getting his start in films in minor roles (he had 14 film credits in 1937–most uncredited), Gail Patrick who I always think of in her role in My Favorite Wife, Andrea Leeds who is wonderful in the role of Kay, and finally the one and only one that shares the title billing with Katharine Hepburn–Miss Ginger Rogers.

Ginger Rogers was every ounce more the star than everyone else in the film and yet she doesn’t take it as her own.  She delivers wise-cracks like no other.  It was not exactly the first film where she played the wise-cracking dame looking for success, but Stage Door did showcase her talents as a comedienne and led to more screwball comedy roles like Carefree.  It’s also a little bit meatier than the roles she played against Fred Astaire–more of an emotional range for her to play and she does seem to go through the gambit of emotions.  She’s at her best in locked battles of wits, but her performance clearly delivers the level of sophistication for the top billing.

Incidentally, quite a bit of the dialogue that takes place between the tenets of the Footlights Club was ad-libbed.  It was a brilliant choice to make, because it adds more depth to the film than canned dialogue would.  You really feel like you’re in the midst of what goes on outside of the theater and rehearsal halls.  It gels the relationships between the girls and heightens emotions in the scenes to come.

As one of the girls, Eve Arden adds to the color of the film by engaging in snuggles with the love of her life–a cat she lovingly calls Henry.  She dangles Henry around her neck as if he were sable.  It’s beautiful. Though Arden’s role is limited, all she has to do is be present in a scene to make it amusing–the beauty of her delivery being the monotone delivery of her lines.  Stage Door marked her fourth screen appearance.  She appeared in Song of Love when she was just sixteen years old.  Arden a long break from film until appearing uncredited in Dancing Lady. She had a plummier role in Oh Doctor, which was the fuel which led her to be cast in Stage Door.

This film also tackles social issues like wealth and security.  Katharine Hepburn’s character ‘comes from the so-called upper class and Ginger’s the lower.’  Much like The Philadelphia Story and Holiday there’s this moral struggle in the female lead over whether or not you should do what you want to in life rather doing what society dictates is your place.  The beautiful thing is that the character has a choice, the problem is that in each of these films the dominant male figure tries to sabotage and take control of what form this choice comes in.

There’s an even darker element involved with Kay Hamilton–the star of last year who is unable to get another lead role.  I won’t give things away, but her role is the emotional hinge that the film turns on, it’s the heart of the film and Andrea Leads lends great depth to the character’s inner turmoil, aided by the music and periodic voices.  She delivered the Calla Lilies to Katharine Hepburn’s Terry Randall.  The hand-off of the role and the torch is tear-inducing and appropriate to the energy that builds from the climax of the film.

If you’ve never seen Stage Door, you must find a copy immediately, because it’s a film that shouldn’t be missing from your collection.  The ensemble cast and stellar performances make this film, though sometimes a weighty emotional roller coaster, one that you’ll want to watch many times over.

Usually the chorus girl to Broadway star includes a little less dignity and a little more scratching up from the bottom.  Not so with Dancing Lady.  Sometimes you get the starlet (Joan Crawford) who wants to do things the right way, though unbeknownst to her she’s sabotaged by a Park Avenue Playboy Tod Newton (Franchot Tone).

Clark Gable is director Patch Gallagher.  He has ideals, too.  He puts everything on the line when his producers stop backing the show.  Though he tries to keep a cool appearance, his heart gets in the way and he comes to the rescue of our damsel in distress with the truth.

Fred Astaire makes his screen debut as Joan Crawford’s dancing partner in one of the production numbers to end all production numbers.  In A Star is Born with Judy Garland, Garland plays with the whole concept of a production number gone global.  Watching the scene with Fred Astaire again reminded me of that and both grand scale production numbers from this film were probably under target with like numbers in “Someone At Last” from A Star is Born.  Of Course, Fred Astaire couldn’t make his film debut with a simple routine.  He goes from dancing with Crawford on solid ground to the heavens, and from there oddly end up in Bavaria.  Don’t ask.  I have no idea.

Joan Crawford did consider herself a hoofer and did dance in the early days of her career even though she didn’t do a whole lot of it on film.  Her style is much like Ruby Keeler’s.  She pounds every step into the ground, is a bit stiff through the wingspan, and has a seemingly insatiable love of her own feet.  It was probably fairly impressive for audiences at the time to see her sing and dance.

Nelson Eddy also makes his screen debut, though it is true that it wasn’t the first film released that he was in.  He made this film first, but the others were released sooner.  His part is fascinating compared to the parts he played with brief appearances he made on other films (Broadway to Hollywood and Student Tour which were released respectively in 1933 and 1934.  Dancing Lady was actually released on January 1, 1934 for the consumption of general American audiences).  In his prior screen appearances, Eddy sang concert songs.  In Dancing Lady, he sings a “modern” number called “Rhythm of the Day.”  It’s ironic given the parts Eddy would have in the future, mostly period pieces–in this film, he sings for those who are not with the rhythm of the day to transport themselves into modern times.  I must confess, when the song gets into my head it stays there for far too long.

Also of small note is an appearance by The Three Stooges.  I’m not sure why, but for some reason in 30s films, there had to be the side-talent as side-talent to the director and/or the director’s sidekick.  Am I missing something?  Unlike The Ritz Brothers in You Can’t Have Everything, they only make a short appearance and aren’t part of the main show.  They don’t even overpower and upstage the stars.  It’s amazing.  Joan Crawford holds her own against them.

And then of course there is the charming Franchot Tone, who does his bit as the playboy and Clark Gable as the director.  A restrained, slightly vulnerable Clark Gable can be pretty appealing and Franchot Tone is fairly charming in whatever he does.  The love triangle doesn’t take over the film as one would think it would.  Definitely gives the plot a twist on an old story.  Sure, you know the chorus girl turned star is going to go with the director rather than the swell from Park Avenue, but I feel like there’s more substance and respect in their relationship.  Gable’s character is a little more fleshed out than your average Joe (Comparable to Cover Girl now that I think of it, except no Ersters, errr–oysters).

The print on the DVD is pretty-near flawless.  Only qualm would be the sound.  Never fails to amaze me how lovely the print has been preserved over 76 years.  A definite must-watch for any fan of Nelson Eddy and Fred Astaire just to see their big screen debuts.  The plot is not really original, not even for the era.  There really aren’t any stand-out performances (other than Fred and Nelson, of course), but it’s a lovely way to spend a couple hours.