On Blu-ray: The Yearling (1946)

 

Few stories explore the beauty and brutality of life as well as The Yearling. The first film version of Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings best-selling novel balances these opposing, but interconnected elements with simplicity and elegance. Directed with restraint by the underrated Clarence Brown, the film is deserving of its classic status. As I recently watched the new Blu-ray release of the film from Warner Archive, I was struck by how beautiful it is as well. 

The setting is Florida in the 1870s. Pre-teen Jody Baxter (Claude Jarman Jr.) lives with his parents Orry (Jane Wyman) and Penny (Gregory Peck) on their small farm. Jody is a good kid, but a dreamer. His father indulges his drifting nature in opposition to his own strict upbringing. His mother is more rigid; she loves him, but the death of three infant children before him (cut down from six in the novel) makes her reluctant to bond with him and be hurt again should he meet a similar fate. 

While the family struggles to survive the damage to their livelihood caused by a bear, thieving neighbors, a flood, and even the titular deer that Jody takes in as a pet, they are always hopeful for better times. Penny is especially optimistic, looking to an extra crop to raise money for a well or arranging the sly trade of a dog for a new rifle so that he can provide for his family in the way he desires. 

The strict mother type is rarely understood in these kinds of stories, but here the grieving Orry is treated with empathy and compassion. Rather than being angered by her coldness, Jody tries to determine why she is this way. Penny encourages his thoughtfulness, describing the more carefree woman he married, and why he is devoted to her happiness. 

As Penny, Gregory Peck is looser than usual. Something about the role seems to have touched him as he appears genuinely in tune with the hopeful spirit of the character. In a difficult part, Wyman subtly balances the hard shell Orry has formed around herself for protection with those moments when her warmth and love for her family slip out. 

Jarman’s Jody is one of the great classic child performances. He’s as gangling and wobbly as the fawn he adopts, but there’s profound wonder and intelligence in his eyes. His emotional engagement is of a depth beyond his years. 

While this family unit is the focus of the story, there are plenty of fascinating characters in the mix. The shifty Forrester family is fully of tricky personalities, with the tousle-haired Chill Wills a stand-out as Buck. Donn Gift is especially moving and intriguingly eccentric as the crippled Forrester son Fodderwing, Jody’s only friend. The always welcome Henry Travers (It’s a Wonderful Life [1946]) also shows up in a small part. 

Iconic cinematographer Charles Rosher (Sunrise [1927]) creates a poetically beautiful milieu, using matte backdrops and paintings to magnificent effect. He manages to seamlessly integrate the studio and location settings so that he captures the grandeur of nature, but also the intimacy of the family’s life together. The film is also beautifully lit, especially in interior scenes where the warmth of the fire and candlelight lend the actors a dreamy glow. 

The Yearling was rightfully a popular and critical success. It received significant awards attention, including Oscar wins for cinematography and art direction. Claude Jarman Jr. won a special juvenile award for his performance as well. 

Special features on the disc include a radio production of The Yearling, the hilarious Tom and Jerry cartoon Cat Concerto, and a theatrical trailer. 

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the film for review.

On DVD: Wartime Laughs In The Doughgirls (1944) and Pillow to Post (1945)

In a time where laughs didn't come easy, Hollywood found ample material for humor in the World War II era housing shortage. The mini-genre met with varying success, from the entertaining but laugh deficient Government Girl (1943) starring Olivia de Havilland to the bona-fide Frank Capra classic The More the Merrier (1943). Now available from Warner Archive, The Doughgirls (1944) and Pillow to Post (1945) fall somewhere between these two. They approach the scramble for housing with relentless good cheer and undoubtedly succeeded in raising wartime audience moral.

Pillow to Post is the least substantial of the two, but it is a consistently entertaining effort. With the exception of some icky sexual politics that could not be laughed off so easily today, it is never less than pleasant. Pre-noir Ida Lupino is endearing as the daughter of a wealthy oil-drilling equipment tycoon who wants to help the war effort by becoming a salesperson for her father.

Lupino hits the road, and finds she has a hard time being taken seriously. When she finally does make a sale at a company near a military base, it is on the condition that she go on a date with the executive making the buying decision. In typical 1940s fashion, this is approached lightly, but at least Lupino manages to keep her dignity and avoid being pawed.

While she is closing the deal the sleepless saleswoman needs a place to stay. After exhausting all her options, Lupino chances into an auto-court near the military base that is strictly for married couples. Desperate to get some sleep, she takes a room before producing a husband. A chance meeting with a helpful Lieutenant (William Prince) solves that problem when he agrees to pose as her spouse to secure the room, but leads to several more.

Of course Lupino and Prince butt heads a bit and then become fond of each other. They are a charming pair; not hilarious together, but amusing enough to make you smile. Though it turns out I've seen a few of Prince's films, I couldn't recall seeing him before and I enjoyed him here. He's one of those handsome, light-hearted actors who pinch-hit for the studio stars who went off to fight in the war. The actor would later thrive in a lengthy television career.

With an appealing pair of romantic leads and lots of activity at the auto-court, Pillow to Post could rate as a light entertainment, but there are a couple of unusual elements that elevate it to must-see for noir and music fans. The first is the fascinating novelty of seeing eternal villain Sydney Greenstreet in a comedy role. Though he is still plenty menacing as Prince's base commander, the actor gets a chance to be silly and it suits him. The other high point is a criminally brief appearance by 22-year-old Dorothy Dandridge in a nightclub scene with Louis Armstrong. Their bubbly rendition of Wat'cha Say? could have been slotted into most any other comedy of the age, and here it is a sublime moment in an otherwise mildly amusing film.

While it can be hit or miss in its chaotic pursuit of laughs, The Doughgirls benefits from bigger comic talents. It's got an enormous starring cast, with Ann Sheridan, Alexis Smith, and Jane Wyman as former showgirls, Jack Carson as a sexually, and otherwise, frustrated newlywed husband of the latter, Charlie Ruggles as his boss and Eve Arden as a Russian guerilla fighter. All of these people and more crowd into the Washington D.C. bridal suite of Wyman and Carson, most of them desperate for a place to stay.

There's never a moment to breathe as the characters scramble to fulfill their needs, which are inevitably at odds with just about everyone else. Wyman is equal parts amusing and irritating as the more boneheaded than blushing bride, but Ann Sheridan and Alexis Smith are sharp and hilariously entitled as her couch-surfing friends. The three of them were exhilarating to watch: slim, elegant, with perfectly groomed hair, nails like talons and impeccable suits, looking like they are outfitted for a war of their own which they are certain to win.

While the cast is uniformly good, Sheridan and Smith are the highlights here. They plunge into their roles with fearless comic glee, taking control of every situation and making certain they have a good time along the way. Sheridan is at her best when she's bold and confident like this, demonstrating that it is only a man's world in name. And why wasn't Smith given more comic roles? Maybe she had the features of the girl who would try to steal your boyfriend, but she had the chops to make people laugh and adore her much like Lombard. Though Eve Arden's Russian soldier speaks in that simple-minded idiotic way that every character with a foreign accent seemed to in classic Hollywood, I found myself laughing anyway. She practically insists that you humor her; I don't think this role would have worked with any other actress.

You get caught up in the energy of all that activity, and it is all helped along by a cast with great comic timing and chemistry.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copies of the films for review. These are Manufacture on Demand (MOD) DVDs. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.

On DVD: Bing Crosby Croons in Just for You (1952) and Here Comes the Groom (1951)

I was delighted when Warner Archive announced that it would be reissuing its duo-pack of Bing Crosby/Jane Wyman musicals. The first time I checked out Just For You and Here Comes the Groom, I was researching for an interview with Robert Arthur, one of the juvenile actors in the former, for a profile in the magazine Films of the Golden Age. Arthur had some fun things to say about the film, which like Groom, is a lovely way to pass some time, with solid, if for the most part not memorable tunes.

You run into plenty of mischievous characters in classic Hollywood films. Heck, Lee Tracy made a career out of rubbing people the wrong way. Usually I am accepting of, and maybe even amused by these troublemakers, who are only that way to give the leading lady something to work against. 

For some reason though, I don't tend to have much of a sense of humor about the Bing Crosby persona. He strikes me as a jerk, a bit a of a bully too, and not an amusing one. His charisma is potent though. He has a way making everything seem like a lark, something he just tossed together, even things that would require great effort from most men. He disarms you just enough with that loosy goosy, bumping along charm, even when he's being an ass.

In Here Comes the Groom, Crosby is a journalist who has come back from his World War II European post with a pair of orphans. He's been a dog to his girlfriend (Wyman) and she is preparing to marry an obscenely wealthy man (Tone) after waiting for far too long for a proposal. Crosby needs her to marry him though, and who knows if he really loves her that much, but he can't adopt his young charges without her. So he harasses her, and her fiancée, until he bends her to his will.

Crosby's pairings with Wyman are pleasant enough, but totally devoid of sex. When they're getting along, they seem like buddies who enjoy breaking into song together. When they're at odds, only Wyman seems like she's fighting off passion.

The best non-musical scenes in the movie are between Crosby and Tone, who have fantastic chemistry. I don't think this has anything to do with the leading lady either. Der Bingle just tended to be a lot better onscreen with other men.

For the most part it's an enjoyable film though. Crosby and Wyman perform the Oscar-winning In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening with such wholesome verve that you forgive them for the other, more lackluster tunes. Franchot Tone is amusingly sly and Alexis Smith shows off some very silly physical humor in a rare comic role as Tone's distant, and smitten, cousin.

Just for You is my favorite of the two films. The songs are a bit more fun and Crosby and Wyman are supported by the extremely likeable Natalie Wood as his teenage daughter and Ethel Barrymore as the head mistress of an exclusive school for girls. It doesn't seem like Wood ever had an awkward age and Barrymore could say totally vile things with that smooth voice and be loveable, but she gets some good quips and has an amusing rapport with Crosby. It may be one of the best interactions he's had with an actress onscreen.

I'm sure I'm being a bit biased due to my conversations with Robert Arthur, but I am especially fond of him in this film, where he plays Crosby's son. It's a shame he was not given many substantial roles, because he had a sensitivity and a way of really seeming to listen to other actors that gave his screen presence a great warmth. He reminds me a bit of Teresa Wright in that regard.

In the film, Crosby is a successful Broadway producer and Wyman is his star. This time around there's not much romantic turmoil between the leads, as most of the drama revolves around his troubled relationship with his kids. There's a smattering of musical numbers, all of which feel spontaneous to the point of seeming entirely unrehearsed, and one in particular where Crosby attempts to show a leading man how he wants a number performed while appearing perfectly polished and completely nonchalant at the same time. There's also some lively lakeside footage that opens up the movie and gives it a bit of air.

During our interview, Arthur told me that he was originally meant to sing the swoonily romantic title tune, which in the story is the first triumph of his aspiring songwriter character. Crosby knew the song was a showstopper though, and with good humor he told the young actor that he couldn't have it. It's a shame, because Arthur did have a pleasing voice, but it was also an understandable move by a star who clearly wasn't going to let a younger actor to steal his film.

I also loved Arthur's story about his encounter with Barrymore. Apparently he was studying his lines at the lakeside location when he heard her distinctive voice behind him, offering to go over his part with him. Of course he accepted with delight.

This is a good double feature for Crosby completists and devoted musical lovers and will likely hold some appeal for most other classic movie fans.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copies of the films for review. This is a Manufacture on Demand (MOD) DVD. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.

TV Tuesday: Lana Turner and Jane Wyman on Falcon Crest

Lana Turner and Jane Wyman have it out in this juicy scene from a 1982 episode of Falcon Crest. I miss nighttime soaps like this one. It makes sense to me that so many classic Hollywood stars appeared in them, because these shows were the closest you could get to a 1940s-50s style production in the 1980s. I mean, people dressed for dinner, they acted larger than life and there was lots of melodrama; that's pure old school Hollywood.

I think the only way a show like this could survive today would be as a parody. And I'd take that just to see this kind of crazy glamour on television again!

You can watch the full episode (and nineteen more) here at WB online.

Jane Wyman 1914-2007

Jane Wyman started her film career as an ingenue, flitting in and out of celluloid parties and dancing in chorus lines. She developed her talent throughout the forties, gaining special attention as Ray Milland's sensitive girlfriend in The Lost Weekend (1945). In 1948, sge reached new heights with her performance as a deaf-mute woman in Johnny Belinda. The industry rewarded her with the Academy Award for Best Actress. As she entered middle age, she excelled as the sensible gal capable of quite unreasonable passion in the Sirk melodramas, Magnificent Obsession (1954) and All that Heaven Allows (1955). By the mid-fifties, she had moved to television, where she had her own show, Jane Wyman Presents the Fireside Theatre, for three years, in addition to appearing on several other shows. She even made her mark on the golden age of evening soaps, playing the steely matriarch of Falcon Crest throughout the eighties. Solid and dependable, but with a flirtatious charm, she has left behind a diverse and satisfying body of work.