Backlots

By Lara Gabrielle Fowler

My good friends Jessica of Comet Over Hollywood and Lindsay of Lindsay’s Movie Musings have collaborated on a blogathon focusing on journalism in film–a topic that yielded some of the most intricate films to come out of Hollywood. From the epic Citizen Kane to the quirky and comedic Nothing Sacred, journalism is often portrayed in Hollywood as a bitter and cynical profession, and journalists as merciless in their pursuit of a story. Interestingly, several significant films involving journalism were released between the years of 1940 and 1941, including His Girl Friday (1940), Citizen Kane (1941), and Meet John Doe (1941).

These were the war years–Hitler’s troops invaded Poland in 1939 and war was in full throttle in Europe by 1940. No one yet knew when or if America was going to get involved. In this era of insecurity, Americans and others worldwide relied heavily on newspapers to keep them informed of constantly changing events. As movies sway with the tides of public consciousness, an influx in journalism-based movies seems to be a logical expectation for the years 1940 and 1941. The general distaste for the morality of the profession was magnified, no doubt, by the negative external forces at play in the world during that time that journalists had to report. Though the genres of these films range from screwball comedy (His Girl Friday) to epic drama (Citizen Kane), the portrayal of journalists as scavengers remains constant through all of them.

Meet John Doe goes one step further. Barbara Stanwyck plays a journalist who, as an act of vengeance upon being fired from her job, pens a letter from a fictional “John Doe” and submits it as her final column. The letter says that John Doe will commit suicide on Christmas Eve by jumping off the roof of City Hall as a protest against the state of civilization. It is published in the paper and it causes an uproar, with some thinking the letter is fake and others disturbed about John Doe’s distress. The newspaper editor calls her in for the letter, but she calmly tells him that there is no letter, she made it up. She outlines a plan to use the public’s outrage to the newspaper’s advantage, and create a “real” John Doe to sell more papers. Out of dozens of men who come to the newspaper office to say that they wrote the John Doe letter, they choose to use John Willoughby, an injured former baseball player who had just come to look for a job. He is groomed into John Doe, and little by little the story of John Doe is created. He is the downtrodden everyman with whom everyone identifies, and he attracts millions of listeners on the radio as well as creating a boom in newspaper sales. The lies grow, until John Willoughby and John Doe become one and the same in the eyes of those who created him.

Though it is officially listed as a comedy, the truth of the matter is that it this movie is virtually unclassifiable. There are moments of humor, moments of intense drama, and all through the movie John Doe’s phoniness is palpable and uncomfortable. This is the genius of Frank Capra, the director of the movie and Hollywood visionary extraordinaire. In the early 1930s, it was Capra who saw potential in young Barbara Stanwyck, casting her in his film Ladies of Leisure (1930) and helping build her image. Meet John Doe was the last of their 5 movies together, and Capra instinctively understood how to make the best of Stanwyck physically, emotionally, and through outside influences like lighting and camera angles. All of these things helped secure her character as a cunning and cutting journalist who pulled off the dupe of the century to get her job back. It works magnificently.

Meet John Doe is prescient in many ways–cinematically and socially. In 1976 Network, which focused on a ploy to keep television ratings alive by using a crazy man’s rantings to get people to tune in, was created with a very similar plot outline.

Though the filmmaking practices were markedly different due to different filmmaking standards (the fall of the production code allowed Network to be raw and gritty, while Capra’s signature smooth and soft camerawork gives Meet John Doe a gentle quality), the similarities are evident and both are reminders of the power of journalism to influence and brainwash. Today, in the era of biased 24-hour news networks, we would do well to remember Meet John Doe to remind ourselves of what journalism can make us believe and how easily we can be persuaded.

Thanks to Jessica and Lindsay, and be sure to check out all the other great entries over at Comet Over Hollywood and Lindsay’s Movie Musings!

Lara G. Fowler

By Lara Gabrielle Fowler

Today was a very special day at Cinecon, as guests anxiously awaited a much-anticipated Q&A session with the legendary Shirley Jones following a screening of April Love. As you may know, I am a big fan of Jones’ portrayal of the prostitute Lulu Barnes in Elmer Gantry and I was excited to tell her so. She was to sign copies of her recently published memoir after the screening and Q&A, so I had been looking forward to the screening all weekend.

I had never seen the movie before, and had no idea what to expect. What I found was that this film was a hearty slice of Americana starring wholesome crooner Pat Boone as a “wayward” teenager sent to live with his aunt on a farm after stealing a car, where he meets the tomboy neighbor and horse enthusiast played by Jones. As can be expected, they fall in love. How Boone could have been a “bad boy” is beyond me, he’s a complete angel in the movie. I have never seen a more wholesome teenager. Though he ultimately gets in trouble again for driving a car without a license, he redeems himself by coming clean and the police officer forgives him. Basically this movie was a censor’s dream.

Prior to Elmer Gantry, Shirley Jones played almost exclusively these types of girl-next-door, Americana good girls. Her sweet face and beautiful soprano voice allowed her to play these roles to great effect, and her talent in this milieu was well-known.

“People Will Say We’re In Love” from Oklahoma, Jones’ film debut after a successful career on the Broadway stage.

April Love is no exception to the rule, and her performance is, once again, the highlight of the film. One moment especially stands out–during a song called “Do It Yourself,” Jones gets the opportunity to demonstrate her solid musical technique. She sings two brief operatic cadenzas within the song, and not only are they musically flawless, but she hits one VERY high note, one so high it is close to unheard of in Jones’ field of musical theater. In addition to her expertise in musical theater, my guess is that Jones must have had some operatic training. Her voice shows evidence of opera technique, and her ability to hit those extremely high notes suggests a vocal range honed in operatic studies.

“Do It Yourself.”

After the movie, I intended to go up to Shirley Jones, tell her about my admiration for her role in Elmer Gantry and ask about any operatic training she may have had. She and Pat Boone, who was also there, answered some questions posed in an interview and then Shirley headed up to the lobby to sign copies of her newly published memoir. I own a copy, so I brought it for her to sign so that I could meet her. There were many people waiting, and understandably, Shirley needed to keep the line moving. I did tell her about my love for role in Elmer Gantry, which she appreciated and she commented on how well the movie still holds up today. Unfortunately I didn’t have enough time with her to ask about her opera training, but I’m hoping that someday I might get to meet her again. She makes frequent appearances at festivals and still does concerts, so perhaps our paths will cross again and I will have more time with her.

I recently made a post about Shirley Jones in Elmer Gantry, explaining more about Shirley Jones’ career before the movie and how it changed her perception in the industry. Click here to read it.

By Lara Gabrielle Fowler

A hysterically funny screwball comedy about a female marriage counselor in the army who is going through a divorce with her own husband, Suddenly It’s Spring has been the #1 highlight of the festival for me thus far. I was very excited to see it, as it was the sleeper hit of the TCM Classic Film Festival this past year and I missed the screening there. It was the talk of the festival, and left many wondering how it is that this movie is not more widely known. It does not have a DVD release, nor is it available (to my knowledge) on VHS.

The movie stars Paulette Goddard, one of my favorite actresses, paired with Fred MacMurray, one of the most versatile actors of the 1930s and 1940s. Fred MacMurray has played screwball comedy, drama, and noir with equal flair, and in this movie he plays the perfect clueless husband in a great comedic performance.

Paulette Goddard is a very interesting actress. In the 1930s she had a reputation for playing strong, rjch, well-defined roles such as the sassy dame Miriam Aarons in The Women, and the orphaned gamine in Modern Times with Charlie  Chaplin. She starred with Chaplin again in 1940 as the Jewish girl caught in the throes of a familiar-sounding anti-Semitic dictatorship in The Great Dictator.

Goddard in The Great Dictator.

(To digress a bit, Charlie Chaplin was commonly known to be married to Paulette Goddard. The public knew nothing of the circumstances of their marriage, and to this day there exists no definitive proof that they ever were married. Chaplin referred to Goddard once as his wife, but neither of them discussed their marriage publicly to the press. It remains a topic of contention among classic film aficionados, though the general consensus is that they were indeed married.)

In Suddenly It’s Spring, her role is strikingly less defined than the films she made in the 1930s and early 1940s. She plays a generally calm and ordinary housewife, with conflicting emotions about divorcing her husband that come out in very funny ways. In one scene, as her husband tries to drive her away at the bequest of his current girlfriend, he starts acting like a drunken buffoon, scaring away her army friends who are paying a visit. When the ladies leave, she looks at him and basically throws herself at him, saying she has never been so attracted to him as when he acts that way. It is a classic screwball moment, and it got a huge laugh from the Cinecon audience.

Another interesting side note–the role of Paulette Goddard’s mother in the movie is played by none other than Lilian Fontaine, the mother of Joan Fontaine and Olivia de Havilland. I was very pleasantly surprised to see her name in the opening credits. Though she appeared in several films, this is the largest role I have seen her play. She has a lovely, lilting voice, and looks remarkably like her older daughter Olivia, with many of the same mannerisms. I recently wrote a post about her relationship with Joan, click here to see it!

This was by far the best movie I have seen yet at Cinecon this year, and perhaps last year as well. I regret that there are very few stills that exist of this movie. I wish I could share them on this post, but they are just not there to share. My wish for this movie is that it can be more widely seen, and perhaps Universal (who owns Paramount, the distribution company) will recognize its appeal and put it out on DVD.

See you tomorrow!

By Lara Gabrielle Fowler

After an exhausting day of movie-watching and hours of research at the Margaret Herrick Library, I was ready to head home around 11:00 after 3 evening movies. But when I learned that the final movie of the night was about a newspaper reporter who covers the story of why a black mother has a white child, I knew I had to stay and see just how they handled this.

The story begins as a newspaper reporter (Claire Trevor) is passing through a black neighborhood and she sees a policeman (played by Bill “Bojangles” Robinson) leading the neighborhood children in a tap dance. Around comes a young girl who is significantly lighter than her friends. It comes to light that there has been discussion in the neighborhood that the girl, named Sunny, may not be her mother’s biological child. The newspaper reporter picks up the story and through a series of circumstances that would be deemed very racist, we learn that Sunny is NOT in fact her mother’s biological child and she had been left in her care by another couple (the woman was played by Sally Blane, best known as being the sister of Loretta Young), who come to claim her at the end. But the couple tells the woman who raised Sunny that she will not have to leave the child–she can come along and be the child’s nurse.

It usually takes a good deal for me to become offended and angry, and this movie did it for me. It is completely unapologetic about its racist attitudes and almost boasts of them. I will not justify its racism, nor will I extol this movie in any way. I will, however, provide some context.

The year was 1937, and this was segregated, discriminatory America both in real life and on film. In the movies, those of African-American heritage were portrayed almost exclusively as cooks, servants, or maids, and almost always in an unflattering light. In real life, Jim Crow laws were in effect and interracial relationships were illegal. Movies often shot just a few scenes featuring black actors in an otherwise white cast, because in order to be able to sell movie tickets in the American South, those parts would have to be removed before distribution in that area. In this regard, the producers of One Mile From Heaven probably thought they were being progressive–a mixed cast? In 1937? That was close to unheard of.

But the one step of progress the movie made in that regard was promptly nullified by two steps back…and back…and back. The beautiful, heartwrenching performance of Fredi Washington as the woman who raised Sunny is the highlight of the movie, and everything else is a mess. What is missing in this movie is any sort of empathy toward the woman who has raised this child from the time she was a baby. The movie almost goes out of its way to say, almost word-for-word, that the baby belongs in a white family. There are other movies like this, but this movie, to me, symbolizes just how big of a mess America was in during this time period.

When watching classic films, it is important to remember context and judge movies accordingly. Thankfully, attitudes have shifted considerably over the past 70, 80, 100 years. We are lucky to live in a society that can call out segregation, discrimination, and racism as inherently unfair, and to understand just how lucky we are, it is necessary to look to the past. The situations in One Mile From Heaven were, unfortunately, cruel realities.

At some point soon, I would like to make a larger post discussing racial issues in classic film. There is a lot to say, and it’s far too complicated for an impromptu article right in the middle of Cinecon. When I get back, stay tuned for my opinionated take on the issue and I will invite you, the reader, in for a discussion. As for this post, please feel free to weigh in with your thoughts on the movie. Have you seen it? Would you see it?

See you tomorrow for more coverage!