Cast a Dark Shadow (1955): Bluebeard Bogarde

Dirk Bogarde was a cinema star of international magnitude in the 1960’s and 70’s, his films being screened across Europe and North America. In the 50’s however, his star shone mostly in Britain (albeit shown very brightly) and he was cast in a variety of roles including the comedic “Doctor” series. But some of his best roles from this period and precursors of those parts which made him a mega star, were those which cast him in a dark shadow. How’s THAT for a segue way?

Cast a Dark Shadow (1955) is a shadowy suspenser, very British and highly enjoyable. Bogarde plays Edward “Teddy” Bare (really, Teddy Bare?), a modern day Bluebeard, an unsavory charmer of well-off widows. As the film opens, Teddy is married to the much older Monica or ’Monnie’ as he affectionately calls her (Mona Washbourne). Innocent and trusting Monnie enjoys her drink a little more than she should, thanks to the coaching of her lay about husband. Unbeknownst to Teddy, she means to change her will in his favor, leaving him everything. Believing she is meeting with her attorney to adjust her estate without him in mind, he kills her, making it appear an accident, she being the victim of a gas fireplace. He later discovers he has slain the goose AND done away with the golden eggs.

Running low on funds (as most gigolos) our Teddy Bare seeks the green pastures of a recently widowed barkeep, Freda, who is coarse, loud and heavily endowed financially. Freda (convincingly played by Brit powerhouse Margaret Lockwood) is no shrinking violet and takes the slick Mr. Bare on toe to toe. They marry with the new Missus thinking her husband has as much spinach as she herself. He soon realizes Freda is no soft touch and his eye turns to a new, attractive widow in town named Charlotte (Kay Walsh).

Shadow is based on a play called “Murder Mistaken” by British playwright Janet Green. It has twists, turns and is a bit Hitchcockian in feel, Agatha Christie in theme. The deep black and white photography is brought to the screen via cinematographer Jack Asher, who would shoot many of the best known Hammer thrillers later in the decade and into the next. And not to be left out is the performance by Kathleen Harrison as Emmy, the slow witted, guileless servant, a role very similar to the one she played in her more famous film, the 1951 version of A Christmas Carol.

Portrait of Jennie (1948): Haunting Beauty

"Who knoweth if to die be but to live, and that called life by mortals be but death?" ~ Euripides

Portraits have played key plot elements in several classic movies during the 1940’s, sometimes even being the central theme around which the film is based. From Kitty (1945) and Laura (1944) to The Picture of Dorian Gray (also 1945), the mystery and enchantment of someone’s painted image intrigued moviegoers throughout the decade. One of the most fascinating examples in this circle took over four years to get on the screen. Portrait of Jennie (1948) is a romantic fantasy with shades of mystery and more than its share of haunting beauty.

 The film was based on a 1940 novel by Robert Nathan, who had also authored The Bishop’s Wife, which was adapted for the screen in 1947. MGM had taken an option on the story but dropped it, when producer David O. Selznick picked it up in late 1944. When casting discussions began, Vivien Leigh was considered for the part of Jennie. She was still under contract to Selznick at the time and there was even talk of she and husband Laurence Olivier starring together but the idea was dropped. There was also discussion among Selznick’s production team to film it with Shirley Temple, who was also under personal contract, over a period of years to take advantage of Temple’s transition from youth to young adulthood. As tempting as the marketing angle was to the publicity genius, Selznick felt it would be a perfect project for his then lover Jennifer Jones. Joseph Cotten was then cast in the male lead, making it the fourth film teaming for the duo in as many years (Cotten and Jones had previously co-starred in Since You Went Away (1944), Love Letters (1945) and Duel in the Sun (1946)).

Eben Adams is a downtrodden artist, a wandering soul in search of what he’s not entirely sure. His name fairly drips of early-mid century American artist. He half heartedly wanders into the low key but high quality gallery of Matthews and Spinney, the latter name belonging to a straight talking, self proclaimed old maid who takes a shine to Adams. Receiving a verbal as well as a financial renewal at Matthews and Spinney, the artist heads back out into the cold that is Manhattan in winter. While wandering in the park, he encounters a strange but lovely girl named Jennie. She talks of things and places from 20+ years earlier, as if they were happening that day. She leaves as suddenly as she appeared, leaving Adams to speculate on such an odd child. Taken with Jennie’s unique spirit, the artist creates a sketch of her which he presents to Matthews and Spinney. Mr. Matthews, who originally thought Eben’s work lacking, finds the sketch so striking and inspired, that he offers him a relatively substantial sum.

Adams once again meets Jennie, while out and about, but notices that she seems to have aged somewhat, changing from a child into a pre-adolescent. His subsequent encounters with her prove just as strange, each revealing a maturity in years. As she “ages” he falls in love with her and she with him. This romance, created beyond the confines of time and space, blossoms but where will it lead?

With production beginning in February 1947 and ending in October 1948, Jennie was fraught with problems, least of which was Selznick’s perfectionism. William Dieterle was chosen to direct. His creative sense of the visual had been used to great effect in the fantasy The Devil and Daniel Webster (1941), which had photographic elements that could transfer into this project. Ethel Barrymore was perfectly cast as Miss Spinney, as was Cecil Kellaway as Mr. Matthews and Lillian Gish as a kind nun who knew Jennie as a child.

Portrait of Jennie was released on Christmas Day 1948 and although not very well received, has over the course of time become a classic. Joseph Cotten won the International Prize for Best Actor at the 1949 Venice International Film Festival for his portrayal of Eben Adams and Selznick and Jones married the following year. Though problems and chaos plagued production of the movie, the end result is a fascinating fantasy ghost romance.

A Kay Francis Double Feature: "Wavishing"

Most fans of classic movies know film divas of the 1930’s such as Bette Davis, Joan Crawford and Greta Garbo. They are iconic figures who more often than not, appear as caricatures of there original screen image. But among these movie queens, there is a name that hardcore cinephiles also recognize with as much stature in the deco era: Kay Francis.

A sultry brunette who was always dressed to the nines, Francis wrung her hands and suffered long in films at both Paramount and Warner Brothers studios during the Depression. She headlined both light comedies and heavy melodramas, with emphasis on the latter. Two prime examples of a “Kay Francis film” are featured below, the first from her early days at Paramount and the second during her tenure at Warners.

The Virtuous Sin (1930)
Is there such a thing as a virtuous sin? Kay seemed to think so in this very early talkie in which she co-starred with Walter Huston. Set in World War I Russia, it’s actually a bit hokey and kind of dated but since it’s a pre-code, there’s enough risqué hanky panky to make it fun.

Kay plays the wife of a medical researcher (Kenneth McKenna), an eager chap who is taken into the military against his will. His disgust of his current station leads to insubordination and eventually court martial. Sentenced to execution by his superior (Huston), our doctor friend is hopeless. Enter Kay, determined to save him no matter what it takes, even though she has admitted she isn’t deeply in love with him. She frequents a café cum bordello in an attempt to tantalize the general who sentenced her husband to die, hoping to “persuade” him to reverse his decision. So what does she do instead? She falls in love with him!

The Virtuous Sin is the kind of improbable melodrama that ran rampant in pre-code Hollywood. Hand to forehead tales with overacting styles that carried over from silent films. They are a hoot to watch though and rarely boring. As an interesting side note, Kay and costar McKenna carried on a torrid affair during filming which culminated in their marriage in early 1931.

Living on Velvet (1935)
Although not one of Francis’ better known or more notorious vehicles, Living on Velvet is a good example of the genre she starred in while at Warner Brothers. At her zenith, she was among the highest paid stars in Hollywood. At her lowest ebb at the studio, she was among the highest paid stars in Hollywood. You see, hers was an extremely lucrative contract and even when Warners thought her time had passed and gave her sub par scripts in hopes her ego would make her break said contract, she plugged along collecting her paychecks and becoming a very wealthy woman.

Living on Velvet gave her two leading men, George Brent and Warren William (though there was no doubt that Kay was the star). Aviator Brent loses his parents and sister in a plane crash in which he had piloted the plane. Guilty and reckless, he feels he is now ‘living on velvet’. When he meets Kay, it is love at first site for them both, although she is Warren’s girl. Kay marries George only to be plagued by his lackadaisical outlook about making a living and life in general.

Francis had worked with both George Brent and Warren William before and worked with Brent several more times before leaving Warners. Life was not velvet for William during this period. Once a leading man at the studio and on loan-out films like the previous year’s Cleopatra and the original Imitation of Life, Velvet relegated the actor to what was basically supporting status. Far from the suave and virile men he’d played earlier in the decade, he was a mere door mat for best friend Brent and girlfriend Kay to walk across on there way to the alter.

One notable scene from Living on Velvet has Brent’s character giving Francis a diction lesson. The star had a noticeable lisp, where her ‘r’s came out as ‘w’s. So much so that she was often teasingly called the “wavishing Kay Fwancis.” In their shared scene, George gives Kay a verbal exercise where she must repeat “around the ragged rocks the ragged rascal ran,” only Francis’ version went: “Awound the wagged wocks the wagged wascal wan.” Audiences found her self deprecation charming.

The actress continued making films after she left Warner Brothers in the late 1930’s, but her glory days were long behind her. A workhorse (she made 15 films in 1930-31 alone) as well as a clotheshorse (her costume changes were legendary), Kay Francis was also a true blue star.
For more information about the colorful Kay Francis, author Scott O’Brien has penned a fascinating biography entitled, Kay Francis: I Can't Wait to be Forgotten - Her Life on Film and Stage (linked below).

The Women (1939): Color It “Jungle Red”

Start with one highly seasoned Norma Shearer. Next, add a fairly hard boiled Joan Crawford (she will toughen even more during cooking). Take one second string star, Rosalind Russell, just waiting to blossom. Mix in a couple of fresh faces with fresh figures, preferably Paulette Goddard and Joan Fontaine. Then sprinkle the whole thing with colorful supporting players like Marjorie Main, Mary Boland and Lucile Watson. Serve up with art direction by Cedric Gibbons and couture by Adrian (no last name necessary) and you’ve got a recipe for cinematic success known far and wide simply as, The Women (1939).

With a cast largely consisting of discarded Scarlett O’Hara wannabes, The Women was produced the same year as Gone with the Wind and was second only to that gargantuan film in profits for its studio, MGM, in 1939. Director George Cukor was signed on to tame these lipsticked lionesses after also being discarded as director from the Civil War epic, when the films’ star, Clark Gable, complained that he was giving too much attention to the female leads. Cukor said of The Women: “ At the time it probably wasn’t as silly as it seems now, because it came from a different world. ‘Kept women’ and marital break ups were big moral questions then. Now, of course, everybody would be screwing everybody, and everybody would know about it. Crystal wouldn’t be a kept woman, she’d be carrying on with another girl.” But Cukor’s deft and skillful directing aside, the classic comedy belonged entirely to its title characters.

The plot is indeed as Cukor described it about ‘kept women’ and marital break ups, in a gossipy modern high society circle of “friends” in NYC. Based on the hit Broadway play by Clare Booth Luce, it ran 666 performances on the Great White Way in 1936. In a nutshell, wealthy and elegant socialite Mary Haines (Shearer) goes through her privileged tasteful life in bliss with her handsome, engineer husband, Stephen and their daughter, Little Mary (it must be noted that nary a man steps in front of the camera during the two plus hours of celluloid. They are merely referenced….A LOT!). Her happy existence is threatened big time with the onset of Crystal Allen (Crawford, pictured here with her signature designer Adrian), shopgirl, home wrecker and floosie supreme. Enter Sylvia Fowler (Russell), et al, Mary’s dearest “friends” who verbally and maliciously take her (and each other) apart piece by piece.

Most, if not all, of the movie’s stars were in some sort of career shift. Norma Shearer, whose MGM high-up honcho husband, Irving Thalberg had died two years earlier, was in a state of dated star decline, holding her own basically because she was also holding substantial MGM stock left to her by her dear departed spouse. Joan Crawford was also on the verge of “has been” status after a string of flops at Metro. Pop columnist Sheila Graham noted in early 1939, “After three misses in a row, if Joan Crawford doesn’t come up with a hit picture soon, she will be joining Luise Rainer in the Hall of Forgotten Stars at Metro.” Never any love lost between Shearer and Crawford, the two divas had an long standing feud over who was the female powerhouse at MGM. Crawford always felt that Norma got the choice roles at the studio, merely because she was sleeping with the boss and was fond of calling her “Miss Lotta Miles”, a moniker Shearer had worn back in the 20’s as a model for a tire manufacturer. Their attempts to one up each other on the set were legendary, including Crawford’s clacking knitting needles during many of Shearer’s scenes.

Rosalind Russell had been at MGM for half a decade, relegated to second tier status for most of that time with a few exceptions, most notably on loan out to Columbia for Craig’s Wife (1936). With the success of The Women, Russell’s talents as a comedic gem had been discovered and utilized. Like Russell, both Paulette Goddard and Joan Fontaine were actresses who were just on the verge of stardom. Goddard had actually been a hair’s length away from winning the coveted role of Scarlett in GWTW before losing out to Vivien Leigh. On loan out from producer David O. Selznick for The Women, she would leave the showman’s employ later that year to enter a long term, very successful run at Paramount where her star would shine. Fontaine would also shoot to stardom in 1940, when Alfred Hitchcock cast her as the second Mrs. deWinter in his classic Rebecca. Not as high profile as most of the other females on the Women set, Fontaine had up until that time, fell mostly in the shadow of her more successful, higher profile sister, Olivia de Havilland. In “Joan Crawford: The Essential Biography” the star praises Cukor and most of her cast mates (except Shearer, of course!) with the noted exception of Fontaine. “I think the only one I could have done without was Joan Fontaine. She wasn’t a bitch, she wasn’t nasty - there was just something about her. She had the smallest part of all of us and maybe she was just a little jealous."

Marjorie Main presented a trial run of her Ma Kettle character ten years early and it suited her Lucy character in The Women to a tee. Comedy veteran Mary Boland spouted her faith in “l’amour” throughout the film, cracking many hilarious one-liners along the way and in a small but fun part, luscious Virginia Grey, as one of Crawford’s department store co-workers, makes one wonder why Stephen Haines didn’t sniff around HER end of the perfume counter instead of the world weary Crystal’s.

Above, MGM boss Louis B. Mayer, with Paulette Goddard and director George Cukor at The Women premiere

The Women was an enormous hit. It’s premise was successful enough to warrant not one but two remakes, albeit sad disappointments, both. First in 1956 with The Opposite Sex starring June Allyson and Joan Collins, then again over 50 years later under the original title with Meg Ryan and Annette Benning. Neither even came close to the sparkling wit and vicious bite of the original film. It’s phenomenal ensemble may never be duplicated under such circumstances again.

2012!: Let the Classic Movies Continue!

It’s another year and another passel of great classic films to look forward to in the next twelve months. I’m not sure who or what films might show up, but there are some stars, films and film genres that I hope to feature in the near future. Look for Carole Lombard, Edward G. Robinson, Alfred Hitchcock, Olivia de Havilland, a glimpse of classic British films from across the pond and much more.

Thank you for sharing your love of classic film with me and letting me share it with you in 2011. I hope great things are in store in 2012. Happy New Year!

Heidi (1937): Shirley Temple Climbs a Mountain

During the 1930’s in Hollywood, the top brass at 20th Century-Fox knew a good thing when they saw it and they saw it in a little tyke named Shirley Temple. Depression weary audiences flocked to the movies of the grammer school cupie-doll in droves, allowing her to single-handedly save her home studio from bankruptcy. Already the top box office draw in America for two years running, Temple was starting to age by 1937 (she was all of 9 years-old) and Fox studio boss Darryl F. Zanuck handed over the newest Temple vehicle, Heidi, to director Allan Dwan to see what he could do with it. It would be the first of three film collaborations for Dwan and Temple and the most successful, being a perfect vehicle for the star and keeping her at the top of the box office for a third year in a row.

Based on the classic children’s story by Joanna Spyri, Heidi is a little orphan girl, thrust upon her brusque and bitter grandfather by a mercenary and unloving aunt in the Swiss Alps. Cold and indifferent at first, the Grandfather (Jean Hersholt) warms quickly to the natural and loving child and the two become very attached. Enter evil aunt Dete again, whisking Heidi away to sell her into servitude to a wealthy aristocrat. While the Grandfather searches high and low for his beloved grandchild, Heidi begs to be taken back to her Alpine haven, only to be told she must stay in the opulent household to entertain a sad crippled girl named Klara (Marcia Mae Jones). All this is overseen by Klara’s sinister governess Fraulein Rottenmeier (Mary Nash).

Temple could have easily taken this to the saccharine, and some may say she did, but her natural charm and good humor shines through and makes for a highly entertaining family film. The fake snow proved a problem though when little Shirley accidentally swallowed some and had to be off the set for a day or two to recuperate. But if the snow was phony the settings are authentic in look and feel and that is mostly attributed to the fact that much of the outdoors was shot at Lake Arrowhead in San Bernardino County, California.

A musical number, “In Our Little Wooden Shoes” was inserted in the middle of the picture, much influenced by the miniature star herself. As a personal observation, the scene seems tacked on. It’s actually a dream sequence but lends nothing at all to the story. However, it is a cute way to interject Shirley in a few ornate costumes.

Heidi is a favorite around the holiday season. The snow, the classic story for children, the curmudgeonly Santa look-alike in the Grandfather all come together to give a Christmas aura (plus, the film climaxes on Christmas Eve). I know I first saw it as a kid on Christmas break from school. It was actually the first Shirley Temple movie I ever saw and for anyone who hasn’t seen one and wonders what she’s all about, it is a good film to get started.

Deck the Halls With Tinsel(town)!

Classic Hollywood knew how to deck the halls (and the terrace and the pool house and the second story mezzanine and the....well, anyway) with all the glitz and glamour that only it could.  Bet Elizabeth Taylor (above) knew the joys of icy diamonds even at this youthful age.

Alice Faye is definitely in the giving Yuletide spirit!

Gene Tierney makes a lovely and colorful Christmas card.

Cary Grant mugging as St. Nick with galpals Lucille Ball and Ann Sheridan egg(nog)ing him along.

Joan Bennett and daughter Melinda in the late 1930's.

Carole Lombard has been a good girl (or maybe a bad one), as evidenced by her haul of Christmas goodies.

June Allyson filling her stockings with care.

The Lemon Drop Kid (1951): Ring Those “Silver Bells”

Damon Runyon was a writer of short stories whose literary world was hard boiled and street smart, where women were ‘dames’ or ‘tomatoes’ and men were named ‘Benny the Gouge’ and ‘Harry the Horse’. He wrote of the shady types whose domain was Broadway during and shortly after Prohibition. Paramount produced two films in 1934 based on Runyon tales, Little Miss Marker and The Lemon Drop Kid. In 1949, the studio remade Little Miss Marker as Sorrowful Jones starring their top comedian Bob Hope. Hope, along with co-star Lucille Ball, made the film a big success and the funny man decided he wanted to try another Runyon story as a film vehicle. The next year production started on a remake of the other ‘34 movie, The Lemon Drop Kid.

It’s silly fun, like most Bob Hope movies, but an added attraction was a holiday ditty written by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans, called “Silver Bells”. It was sung by Hope and his female lead, blonde Marilyn Maxwell and became an instant hit and holiday standard. Story has it the song was originally going to be called “Tinkle Bells” but Mrs. Jay Livingston advised against it, making reference to childhood slang for urination, hence “Silver”.



It’s a fun story. Hope plays a small time swindler called, you guessed it, the Lemon Drop Kid, who hustles tips at a Florida horse racing track and touts a race to a gangster’s unsuspecting moll. The losing horse ends up costing the thug $10,000, and the mob comes a knocking. Kid heads back to his stomping grounds of NYC and tries to solicit help from his chorus girl cutie Maxwell. Instead he ends up concocting a scheme to collect money for a fake retirement home called, get this, the Nellie Thursday Home for Old Dolls! Classic. Bob gets to dress in a sad looking Santa suit (as do his band of shady elves) and even takes a turn in drag as one of the “old dolls”.

To many, Bob Hope is remembered for his television comedy specials, his USO tours or his numerous turns as Oscar host but after transitioning from vaudeville in the late 1930’s, he became a major film star at Paramount. His “Road” pictures with Bing Crosby and Dorothy Lamour were mega hits and his non-Road films were box office gold as well. By the time he made The Lemon Drop Kid, he was top of his game.

The colorful characters of Runyon’s world were portrayed by a colorful roster of Hollywood supporting players. William Frawley (who made this film just before starting his run as Fred Mertz on the long running T.V. classic, “I Love Lucy”), Jane Darwell, Lloyd Nolan and Fred Clark are all hilarious or hilariously menacing. And then there’s the pretty Marilyn Maxwell, but when it’s all said and done, it’s Bob Hope film and Bob more than delivers.

March of the Wooden Soldiers (1934): Laurel and Hardy Meet Santa Claus (AND the Boogeyman!)

As a kid, I always looked forward to March of the Wooden Soldiers (1934) starring the hysterical twosome Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy. But I must admit that I did so with excited trepidation. To put it bluntly, that flick creeped me out! Much like The Wizard of Oz, March (originally released as Babes in Toyland), featured many surreal looking characters and situations that fascinated as well as terrified this five year-old.

Based on a Victor Herbert operetta from 1903, the film was a fantasy extravaganza without the use of the yet to be invented CGI. Set entirely in Toyland, bizarre almost grotesque looking costumes adorned inhabitants such as the Cat and the Fiddle, the Three Little Pigs and even a Mickey Mouse (almost) look-alike. THEN there were the Boogeymen, Sasquatch wannabes who hooted and hollered while terrorizing Toyland. Santa Clause even makes an appearance though he looks as if he made a stop at the North Pole Bar and Grill on his way in (make it a double Blitzen). But of all these weird and wonderful eccentrics two ‘humans’ were creepiest of all and perhaps that’s because they were real people. First, Silas Barnaby, the meanest man in Toyland, was a cross between Ebenezer Scrooge and the hated black clad villain in silent film melodramas. You know, the one who tied the virginal damsel in distress to the railroad? Henry Brandon, billed as his birth name Kleinbach here, would again play this Barnaby-like character in an Our Gang episode a few years down the road. Second, and perhaps most surprising was Mother Goose. I don’t know, when she walked out with her gray finger waved, Goldie locked hair set underneath that tall prick-a-finger-you-die pointy black witches hat, heavy framed glasses sloped down on her nose and Salem witch trial collar wrapped ‘round her neck, I just didn’t get a good vibe. On top of that, this was all heaped around a face that didn’t look a day over 25! Creepy…….

But these were mere window dressing for the deco grand guignol by producer Hal Roach. The film was really a vehicle for Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy, whose massive popularity was catapulted further still by the release of this film in Fall 1934. As Stannie Dum and Ollie Dee, L and H tumble and bumble in the most celebrated way while trying to help Widow Peep and her daughter Little Bo Peep battle the nasty Barnaby, who holds the mortgage on the shoe they all live in together (get it, the Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe?). Bo Peep makes eyes at Tom-Tom, the Piper’s Son and he gets in on the action too.

Although Stan and Ollie were the stars of the film no holds barred, the other actors overplayed their parts to perfection. I mean this was Toyland in the midst of the Depression. Kids loved it and dragged parents in droves. Charlotte Henry, who was cast as Bo Peep, had just played another literary ingenue as the title character in the previous year’s Alice in Wonderland at Paramount. As the comely maiden, wearing a blond wig borrowed from Jethreen Bodine, she always reminded me very much of June Marlow, another Hal Roach player who immortalized Miss Crabtree in his Our Gang shorts. And speaking of resembling someone else in Tinseltown, if you have the opportunity to check the film out sometime, see if you don’t agree that as Tom-Tom, tenor Felix Knight could be the kid brother of Robert Taylor.

Seems kind of odd that physical comedy giants L and H would be plunked down in the middle of a Herbert operetta but for celluloid whimsy it works and Stan and Ollie aren’t required to sing anyway (although Oliver Hardy did get his show business start singing). With the flood of television sets in the 1950’s and 60’s, March of the Wooden Soldiers, also like The Wizard of Oz, made annual appearances to generations of kiddies. Colorized at the end of the 20th century, the original black and white version is better, lending an even eerier feel to an already tantalizing funfest.

Meet Me In St. Louis (1944): Have Yourself a Charming Little Movie

You like splashy color? With Meet Me In St. Louis (1944) you got splashy color! You also have one of the most charming, enduring and elegant classic musicals ever put to film. Developed by the MGM musical powerhouse of producer Arthur Freed and director Vincent Minnelli, it showcased the fragile songbird Judy Garland at the height of her fame and talent and became a box office bonanza for the mega studio in the winter of 1944-45.

Set in the Missouri burg of the title in 1903, the film centers on the Smith family, middle class and ready to see and celebrate the coming Louisiana Exposition of 1904 but instead of a straight narrative, St. Louis is really a set of colorful, sentimental vignettes set to some of the catchiest tunes and loveliest melodies to come from Hollywood in the 1940’s, with Garland of course taking on the bulk of the lilting tones. Along with “The Boy Next Door” and “Under the Bamboo Tree” with the precocious moppet Margaret O’Brien, Judy and gang belt out one of the most glorious four minute interludes of musical magic known to the golden age of American cinema with “The Trolley Song”. Written by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane, “The Trolley Song” was not only nominated for an Academy Award as the year’s Best Song (it lost out to “Swinging on a Star” from Going My Way) but had several very popular renditions that hit the airwaves during the decade. The most enduring song to come from the St. Louis musical resume however, was Judy’s poignant holiday signature, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”. Hauntingly beautiful in its delivery both visually and audibly, “Christmas” has become a standard on Yuletide play lists.

 

In an auburn wig with very heavy bangs, Garland had shed the “baby fat” much discussed by her studio boss Louis B. Mayer, but her trimmer figure could still pack a vocal wallop and did so. She is handsomely supported by a superlative array of MGM talent including the above mentioned O’Brien, Lucille Bremer, Mary Astor, Leon Ames, Marjorie Main, Harry Davenport and Tom Drake, as the “boy next door”. The entire cast charms its way from scene to scene evoking the feel and sound of turn of the century Americana via the MGM backlot.
 

Off-screen the film’s star found her own “boy next door” in director Minnelli. A confusing and tumultuous relationship, the two were married and begat Liza with a Z. However, whatever problems their future held, the two created a film musical masterpiece and the biggest financial hit MGM released since Gone With The Wind. There were many nostalgic period copy cats (Summer Holiday and Fox’s Centennial Summer) but none even came close to this jewel.