Directed by Georges Meliés
France, 1901
France, 1901
This is Andersen's Little Match Girl, but from the inside, or the perspective of the fortunate. Great idea. We get sweet masque like visions, processions and
dances, angels and snowflakes. Meliés' work is always stylized (mimed, dance-like), but he also contrives a few terrifically knowing, socially authentic things here. For instance, the shot where the rich people all go in to be prosperous at the same time that an equal number of people, completely unremarked, hold lamps and
lead horses and do all the work. At the end the
servants push the beggar out, but the gentleman invites him in. Very pretty. Now we just need to find a systemic alternative to glancing, unreliable individual largesse. Not charity, but justice!
(A famous, morally incontrovertible example from a few pioneers of American broadcast journalism: http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=7087479n)
(A famous, morally incontrovertible example from a few pioneers of American broadcast journalism: http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=7087479n)
 |
| Catherine Hessling, in Renoir's 1928 version |
Santa’s Workshop
Produced by Walt Disney
US, 1932
No conflict! What a sweet and friendly thing. Its geography is great, starting with an establishing shot of a luminous north pole, and then exploring the workshop in patient and charming detail. Note that the interest is not narrative. It’s better than that: atmosphere and procedure is the whole point, and occupies the whole film. The proliferation of activity, and especially the elaboration of the manufacturing processes, is terrific. Santa is wonderfully rendered, and he represents more than just commerce, or the usual Silly Symphony shorthand (shortchange) of well-known characters. Watch him go: Billy’s list was too long, and the pinched elvin accountant adds that he hasn’t washed behind his ears for seven years. Santa (cf. One Magic Christmas, and to a degree Elf; when is Santa not really Santa?) laughs, meets and trains Billy's excessive wishes by giving him a Noah’s Ark, and throws in a cake of soap for good measure. In other words, didacticism and anarchy, in equal and harmonious measure. "Mammy!"
Tolkien created something similarly charming for his weans (1920-1942). See The Father Christmas Letters, pub. 1976, rev. 1999:
Lady for a Day
Directed by Frank Capra
US, 1933
A lot of these movies end on Christmas day, which isn't the same as being a Christmas movie. They affirm/exploit the fact that Christmas is an easy and obvious symbol of all sorts of other plenitudes. We're invested, and then they proceed to have their way with us. Filmmakers!
Mind you, this one makes up for all of its manipulations. The Christmas climax is stirring, and affecting, because the whole wise-cracking, Runyonesque setting is so well-established. Director Capra has really hit his stride, as has writer Robert Riskin. The Utopian conclusion to this whole concoction may be preposterous, but it's neither dumb nor naive. Fairytale of New York: the Depression is the dark forest, and charitable, class-collapsing collectivism keeps the wolves at bay. Call the House Un-American Activities Committee!
A lot of these movies end on Christmas day, which isn't the same as being a Christmas movie. They affirm/exploit the fact that Christmas is an easy and obvious symbol of all sorts of other plenitudes. We're invested, and then they proceed to have their way with us. Filmmakers!
Mind you, this one makes up for all of its manipulations. The Christmas climax is stirring, and affecting, because the whole wise-cracking, Runyonesque setting is so well-established. Director Capra has really hit his stride, as has writer Robert Riskin. The Utopian conclusion to this whole concoction may be preposterous, but it's neither dumb nor naive. Fairytale of New York: the Depression is the dark forest, and charitable, class-collapsing collectivism keeps the wolves at bay. Call the House Un-American Activities Committee!
 |
| Starring, William, Robson, & Mr. Sparks |
The Night Before Christmas
Produced by Walt Disney
US, 1933
The less melodramatic,
cartoon-lengthening conflict, the better. This has a very pretty establishing shot. There’s
a diaper hanging on the mantel along with all those stockings. Some of the Silly Symphonies lecture and hector annoy all over the place. This one is
for kids: note the great, gratuitous digression
in which these terrifically imagined and executed toys (including a few craftily product-placed Mickey Mouses) play around much more than was necessary. In late 1933, when most audiences
are still depression-ravaged, this probably provides a welcome bit of
cave-of-wonders wish fulfillment. As
such, Santa’s kindly generosity when confronted with the stocking with the hole
at the bottom—see last Christmas's entry—is quite sweet. (He
inverts an umbrella, opens it, and starts pouring.) It's still Arabian Nights, but now it’s not the
morbid fantasy of the poor, but a warm hint of divine grace. Also, as usual, a blackface joke.
US, 1933
 |
| Vintage |
The Shanty Where Santy Clause Lives
Directed by Harmon & IsingUS, 1933
Nice one. There’s some bite to the poverty at the opening, and there's real relief as it subsequently gives way to bounty. It feels like the Depression is a presence, and not just a gimmick or placeholder.
Children From Overseas
Produced by Stuart Legg
Produced by Stuart Legg
Canada, 1940
National Film Board propaganda about refugee English children, evacuated to Canada. It effaces all sorts of trauma and sorrow, but as usual with Legg, the context of the situation is so well and clearly established that you can still easily read the emotion, the high stakes between the lines. Unusually for a Legg film—in these early days he and Tom Daly mostly compiled their work from archival material—they actually shot some footage for this production. More importantly, they went out and recorded sound, too. A similar innovation led to the much more celebrated Housing Problems (UK, 1935), but the effect here is just about as electrifying. That earlier film brought us poignant trauma and urgent witness. Here, we simply hear the kids, calling the folks back home at Christmas. In these blithe, fathomless exchanges we feel the hopeful optimism of the colonies, and the painful paradox of these kids' thriving being measured by the dimming of their home memories. Great Britain saves the world, and then its Empire crumbles. Of its time, and much more.
Read all about it (Canadian vendor and everything):
http://www.chapters.indigo.ca/books/Guests-Of-War-Trilogy-Kit-Pearson/9780140388411-item.html?cookieCheck=1
Wide! :
National Film Board propaganda about refugee English children, evacuated to Canada. It effaces all sorts of trauma and sorrow, but as usual with Legg, the context of the situation is so well and clearly established that you can still easily read the emotion, the high stakes between the lines. Unusually for a Legg film—in these early days he and Tom Daly mostly compiled their work from archival material—they actually shot some footage for this production. More importantly, they went out and recorded sound, too. A similar innovation led to the much more celebrated Housing Problems (UK, 1935), but the effect here is just about as electrifying. That earlier film brought us poignant trauma and urgent witness. Here, we simply hear the kids, calling the folks back home at Christmas. In these blithe, fathomless exchanges we feel the hopeful optimism of the colonies, and the painful paradox of these kids' thriving being measured by the dimming of their home memories. Great Britain saves the world, and then its Empire crumbles. Of its time, and much more.
 |
| Parp, parp! |
Read all about it (Canadian vendor and everything):
http://www.chapters.indigo.ca/books/Guests-Of-War-Trilogy-Kit-Pearson/9780140388411-item.html?cookieCheck=1
Kitty Kornered
Directed by Bob Clampett
US, 1946
Starts with a bang. It’s 9 o’clock of a winter evening, and everyone is tossing their cats out of the door. Porky expels three Sylvester-like felines, and then a fourth, tiny kitten throws him out. This is a Bob Clampett film all over the place: really manic, really energetic, chock-full of jokes. In this case—sometimes Clampett films are too much of a good thing—the jokes are pretty well all successful. For instance the room that becomes a billiard table, or the part where they pull on that moose bust and the whole moose body pops out. Tons of surrealism here, with happy impossibilities, and a lot of the gags that feature physics/plausibility-defying transformations and metamorphoses. There’s a fun War of the Worlds (Welles) bit, and at one point the cats turn into four Teddy Roosevelts. We don't know why. Michael Barrier expresses great appreciation, over there on that second track commentary. Imagine achieving a feeling of spontaneity in the midst of a process as belaboured as animation.
Putty Tat Trouble
Directed by Friz Freleng
US, 1951
The setting/situation, with little Tweety like some avian pillar saint perched in the cold between those two very urban apartment buildings, is superb (Beckett-like, elemental, primordial). How vulnerable are the little ones! Except for this one, who actually isn’t vulnerable at all, diminutiveness notwithstanding. Tweety is never scared! His films reassure kids by telling them that the meek shall indeed inherit the earth, even if they’re not particularly meek.
This picture is not very consistent with its setting, nor with the urban naturalism that tended to emerge from it. Way too hopeful! In this way, I guess, it’s like those little WB cartoon domestications of the horror films and of a kids’ fairy tale anxieties. (Sesame Street will take this on later, and in a much more systematic manner.) The sources are very serious, and substantial. Their derivations are completely for fun, for laughs. Don't be fooled, though. There's a theme, tremendously substantial, tremendously successful. Here are the realities, kids. And you’ll be all right.
Snow Business
Directed by Friz Freleng
US, 1953
US, 1953
This second cat provides
possibiities. In a strange way it takes
Sylvester out of the antagonistic relationship with his prey, and turns turns the film toward a purer, more abstract violence. Striving is all, and what you strive for
doesn’t really matter. Or, war impulses
are raised to the point of absurdity by the miniscule objective over which
they’re all battling. (Cf. the Roadrunner cartoons). Great stair
shot! The dippy bird sequence is
accompanied by some superb music, which, again, is a particular hallmark of the Freleng
films. The sound effects are also
terrific. They import sounds that you
wouldn’t quite expect, giving flesh in ways you would never have imagined. This is one of the roots of comedy, or, if
you concentrate a bit, wonder. The final
ice stuff is really great—another exemplary bit of gag construction.
Santa’s Surprise
US, 1947
No big studio, no big distributor. Poverty Row, in fact. Pretty good, too. (Features Jack Mercer and Mae Questel!) Think of all the obscure things we miss out on. Here’s a combination love letter and dream come true for the Santa fans in the audience. They join the main characters in a visit to Santa’s workshop. The salutary variation is that this isn’t a sugar-plum vision. They’re all there to help, and the film nicely splits the difference between visions of avarice and the fact that you have to earn your rewards. More, that service should eventually become more pleasurable than being paid for it. Ethnic stereotypes everywhere, and they're all good ones. It’s not caricature that does the damage, it’s when caricature isn't balanced by reality and complexity. I don’t think that the Dutch consolate need get upset over this one.
 |
| I'm offended! |
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
Directed by Max Fleischer
US, 1948
US, 1948
Poverty row. What’s with the sound? Still, here’s a fresh take on this horrible
franchise. Rudolph lives out in the
world, and Santa pulls away from all that cruel incomprehension because he needs
help and sees the little guy’s potential.
Not quite Howard Hawks, but better than usual.
 |
| Great artist, crappy song... |
Meet Me in St. Louis
Directed by Vincente Minnelli
Directed by Vincente Minnelli
Going My Way
Directed by Leo McCarey
Directed by Leo McCarey
US, 1944
Bing Crosby is the greatest. Leo McCarey is also the greatest, or was for quite a long time. This movie, it seems to me, is not the greatest. You may disagree. Does feature one of those Christmas climaxes, and Barry Fitzgerald's Oirish schtick (he is a native, mind you, and authentic when he's not out milking it), as well as his ancient doddering faux mother.
Bing Crosby is the greatest. Leo McCarey is also the greatest, or was for quite a long time. This movie, it seems to me, is not the greatest. You may disagree. Does feature one of those Christmas climaxes, and Barry Fitzgerald's Oirish schtick (he is a native, mind you, and authentic when he's not out milking it), as well as his ancient doddering faux mother.
Miracle of Morgan's Creek
Written and directed by Preston Sturges
Written and directed by Preston Sturges
US, 1944
A stunning parable, as well as being a kind of purloined letter, hiding in plain sight of all of the censors and watchdogs who should have objected, and yet somehow missed it. (Or could there have been reasonable functionaries in there, turning blind eyes when they could?) The movie's central, alleged marriage is very funny, in all its particulars. But in real life it never happened. Something else did, though, and a lot, during this fearsome, frightening wartime period. Young people came crashing together, with ardent irresponsibility, and irresponsible ardour. Shouldn't have. Did. Now what are we going to do about it?
Interlude: sometimes fingers should be wagged, but they should still be wagged decently. Do we really think—have we so forgotten?—that this kind of exchange is exclusively carnal? Mr. Springsteen remembers, and aptly sets forth the secular trajectory. Listen to the sequence of the lyrics on the bridge: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=384lSOHiyyo. Isn't that right, and in two senses of the word? That kiss will lead to a touch, like your folks warned you, and like probably they were warned. But touching can also lead to the heart, and to strength and hope and faith. The kiss and the touch brings us back to the face, which is not just the ever-present physical, but also body and spirit combined unto completeness: to love and the dream and the entire being, to his and her entire life. The soul. Cue ecstatic guitar...
(Big Star: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qAIuim4GXK0)
(This video doesn't seem to know how profound this song is. The Beach Boys: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7QB2Ck00YZ8)
Obligatory Christmas climaxes can be nice, what with our sentiments, and our sentimentalities, and such. Contrary to that run-of-the-mill, this film's climax is Christmas significant, and Christmas appropriate. Doctrinal aptness, theological heft; forgiving and forgiven, for Christ's sake. Then the sextuplets.
A stunning parable, as well as being a kind of purloined letter, hiding in plain sight of all of the censors and watchdogs who should have objected, and yet somehow missed it. (Or could there have been reasonable functionaries in there, turning blind eyes when they could?) The movie's central, alleged marriage is very funny, in all its particulars. But in real life it never happened. Something else did, though, and a lot, during this fearsome, frightening wartime period. Young people came crashing together, with ardent irresponsibility, and irresponsible ardour. Shouldn't have. Did. Now what are we going to do about it?
Interlude: sometimes fingers should be wagged, but they should still be wagged decently. Do we really think—have we so forgotten?—that this kind of exchange is exclusively carnal? Mr. Springsteen remembers, and aptly sets forth the secular trajectory. Listen to the sequence of the lyrics on the bridge: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=384lSOHiyyo. Isn't that right, and in two senses of the word? That kiss will lead to a touch, like your folks warned you, and like probably they were warned. But touching can also lead to the heart, and to strength and hope and faith. The kiss and the touch brings us back to the face, which is not just the ever-present physical, but also body and spirit combined unto completeness: to love and the dream and the entire being, to his and her entire life. The soul. Cue ecstatic guitar...
(Big Star: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qAIuim4GXK0)
(This video doesn't seem to know how profound this song is. The Beach Boys: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7QB2Ck00YZ8)
Obligatory Christmas climaxes can be nice, what with our sentiments, and our sentimentalities, and such. Contrary to that run-of-the-mill, this film's climax is Christmas significant, and Christmas appropriate. Doctrinal aptness, theological heft; forgiving and forgiven, for Christ's sake. Then the sextuplets.
It's A Wonderful Life
Directed by Frank Capra
Directed by Frank Capra
US, 1946
A Pilgrim's Progress.
A Pilgrim's Progress.
 |
| Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me... |
Miracle on 34th Street
US, 1947
Edmund Gwenn, with his charming turn as Kris Kringle, is the Trojan Horse. Let him into your house and in no time the moneychangers will drop out and desecrate the place. The spirit of giving and Christmas are here pressed into the service of Macey's, Christmas commerce, Mammon. "They don't make 'em like they used to," they always say. They is a knucklehead.
 |
| Dick W.'s cat |
3 Godfathers
Directed by John Ford
Directed by John Ford
US, 1948
Ford's eccentric remake of his tremendous 1926 Western, Three Bad Men. It's a Christmas parable, for some reason, and the previous version's plucky young heroine is now a stranded and endangered male infant. The wise men are bandits. (Shepherds and kings combined, à la the myth of American democracy?) I'll bet the Merian Cooper papers, housed in BYU's Arts and Communications archive, could explain it all for us. (Ask 'em: http://lib.byu.edu/sites/artcomm/artscom/) Exalted reputation notwithstanding, Ford clunked on occasion. Eccentricity notwithstanding, this isn't one of those occasions. Don't you find that the same ol' Christmas texts start paling and palling after so many repetitions? This'll get you there from a completely different angle.
Records indicate that our whole gang watched this on Dec. 15, 2003. They also indicate the following:
Ford's eccentric remake of his tremendous 1926 Western, Three Bad Men. It's a Christmas parable, for some reason, and the previous version's plucky young heroine is now a stranded and endangered male infant. The wise men are bandits. (Shepherds and kings combined, à la the myth of American democracy?) I'll bet the Merian Cooper papers, housed in BYU's Arts and Communications archive, could explain it all for us. (Ask 'em: http://lib.byu.edu/sites/artcomm/artscom/) Exalted reputation notwithstanding, Ford clunked on occasion. Eccentricity notwithstanding, this isn't one of those occasions. Don't you find that the same ol' Christmas texts start paling and palling after so many repetitions? This'll get you there from a completely different angle.
Records indicate that our whole gang watched this on Dec. 15, 2003. They also indicate the following:
"The Robert William Pedro Hightower stuff really lodges in Spencer's (7 years of age) head. Drew's (12) nose starts gushing, for no discernible reason. 'Too much blood!' says Claire (2), over and over."
