Monday, December 13, 2010

Power to the People



So you've gotten all warm and fuzzy over "It's a Wonderful Life."

And maybe, just for good measure, you've pulled out your video tape or your DVD of "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" or "It Happened One Night," maybe even "Arsenic and Old Lace."

And you think you know Frank Capra.

I'll grant you, those are probably the highlights. There were so many classics in Capra's career, and many of them were almost fantastic in their nature, screwball in their humor.

And I can see how, after a certain point, it can be tempting to say that, if you've seen one Capra movie, you've seen them all.

"Meet John Doe," which will be shown on Turner Classic Movies Saturday night at 7 (Central), was like that, too, but it had more of a political edge than most of Capra's works, even "Mr. Smith," which was really more of a morality tale than a political one.

In fact, even though the movie was made 70 years ago, the timing might be right for an updated remake. And, as you will see, there are certain elements that undoubtedly would require revision because they are simply too implausible for 2010.

Barbara Stanwyck plays a spitfire of a reporter who loses her job when the management of her newspaper makes a mass downsizing decision. In her last column, she writes about a phony letter from a John Doe moaning about the plight of the "little people" and threatening to jump off city hall on Christmas Eve.

"If you ask me," writes Stanwyck's character, on the brink of joblessness and fretting over how to support her family, "the wrong people are jumping off buildings."

Now, Stanwyck wasn't like some actresses who were featured in Capra's movies — Jean Arthur, for example. Stanwyck excelled in a variety of movies, not just the screwball comedies.

That isn't meant as a slap against actresses who find their niche in screwball comedies. I'm just saying that Stanwyck was extremely versatile. I thought she was great in films like "Meet Jone Doe." She was great in classic film noir productions like "Double Indemnity," too.

(For that matter, Arthur didn't confine herself to screwball comedies, either. But that's another story ...)

My point is that Stanwyck, who was recognized by the American Film Institute as the 11th greatest actress of all time, enjoyed success in many roles — as did her counterpart among the actors, Gary Cooper, who just happens to be recruited to play John Doe.

Anyway, John Doe unexpectedly becomes the most popular guy in town. Everyone, it seems, wants to offer him a job or a place to stay. A few marriage proposals have even trickled in to the newspaper office.

It appears that being down on his luck was the best thing that ever happened to him — that is, if he ever actually existed.

Stanwyck's character knows a good thing when she sees one, though, and she persuades the editor to ride the popularity of John Doe and his "letter" as long as he can — but, in order to throw their newspaper competitors off the scent, they need somebody to present in public — enter Gary Cooper, a hobo who once played pro baseball, a pitcher until his arm went bad.

(And there is something that clearly needs to be changed if someone decides to do a remake. In the present economy, there are almost no American cities with more than one newspaper anymore. Heck, some cities don't even have one.

(So, while the angle of struggling newspapers has resonance here in the 21st century, the concept of actual competition in the newspaper industry seems, well, quaint. If someone is really entertaining the notion of doing a remake, it might be wise to change the employer of the Stanwyck character to an online news site or something like that.

(Oh, and those typewriters that Stanwyck uses? Clearly, they would need to be replaced with computers — preferably laptops. Even an electric typewriter — and they seemed oh so cutting edge when I was in school — would be hopelessly old–fashioned in 2010.)

Cooper is believable enough in his part, but his character brings some baggage — namely, his hobo companion played by Walter Brennan. Brennan's character in this film, known only as The Colonel, has always been one of my favorites, particularly in his rant against the "Heelots," which you can see in the attached clip.

(That philosophical rant reminds me of a slapstick routine I saw the Smothers Brothers do during the Vietnam era in which Tommy explained his theory of the relationship between clothing and political power. The people in charge, he said, were the people who wore suits and ties [they had more on] while the people who were subjugated were the people who wore shorts and T–shirts [they had less on]. Thus, Tommy said, the people in power were the "more–ons.")

Well, the Colonel resists the trappings of fame and fortune and encourages John to do likewise. But John falls victim to the allure of success (and, with it, regular meals and a real bed) and all the opportunities it could make possible (like getting his arm fixed and reviving his baseball career), and he ultimately winds up making speeches that seem sincere in their "love thy neighbor" message but are, in reality, the cynical products of Stanwyck's promotional pen.
"Everything in that speech is what a certain man believed in. He was my father. When he talked, people listened. They will listen to you, too."

Ann (Barbara Stanwyck)

At such points in this film, you really can tell if someone is truly a Capra aficionado.

For example, Stanwyck's character finds herself struggling to write the speech that, as she observes, could mean financial security for her and her family — and then her mother volunteers that she doesn't think anyone will listen to it.

"People are tired of hearing nothing but doom and despair," her mother tells her. "[W]hy don't you let him say something simple and real, something with hope in it?"

Sure, it's a Capraesque line, but it also happens to be a demonstrably successful advertising principle — which may make this the most cynical film Capra ever made.

Then she shares with Stanwyck her late father's diary. "There's enough in it for a hundred speeches," she says, "things people ought to hear nowadays."

And there's another Capra theme — the value and wisdom of experience and common sense.

As Cooper embarks on the Stanwyck–engineered "John Doe" campaign, a veteran Capra watcher can see the influences from earlier Capra movies — the images of newspaper front pages with Cooper striking his "I protest!" pose, for example, are straight out of "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington."

There are many such Capra touches, even if the story isn't standard Capra.

But Cooper is a man conflicted. Playing along with the John Doe story seems to hold the promise of restoring his baseball career — until it is pointed out to him that, if it is revealed to the public that he has participated in a deception, it will mean the end of that career.

Cooper's character comes across as every bit as naive as Jimmy Stewart's in "Mr. Smith" — or, for that matter, in "It's a Wonderful Life" — but cynically so, whereas Stewart's characters were selfless.

John starts believing those poisonous press clippings until he is confronted with the truth — the whole John Doe movement has been manufactured by Stanwyck's boss to further his own presidential ambitions via the creation of a new political party.

And then he delivers a speech that really needs to be seen in the context of the rest of the film. It's impressive by itself, but it really makes the movie.

"Meet John Doe" is certainly more pessimistic than what one normally associates with Capra. There is no positive resolution to the story, which is kind of refreshing if you've become accustomed to the often overly sweet stories his films usually told, but it can be kind of a letdown if you're looking for a George Baileyesque tale of redemption.

I'm not sure there is redemption for Long John Willoughby (also known as John Doe). I don't think he even got his arm fixed.

But the film ends with the implication that there is hope of redemption for Long John. And that, I guess, elevates the story above most of Capra's other films.

You can't say that you really know Capra's work until you've seen it.