Showing posts with label Mickey Rooney. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mickey Rooney. Show all posts

Friday, March 02, 2018

The Home Front at War



"The ending is only the beginning."

Ray Collins (Mr. Macauley)

Even when I first saw "The Human Comedy" as a child, I remember being struck by the many mythological references. My parents were educators so I got more exposure to that kind of thing when I was growing up than most of my contemporaries — even before I saw "The Human Comedy."

I didn't know all the myths, but I knew the references. I also didn't know that, while comedy in the modern sense refers to humor, the ancient Greeks knew comedy to be more dramatic, ironic in its nature — and that was how this story was told. It had its funny moments, but it was almost entirely a drama despite the apparently contradictory nature of its name.

The main character in "The Human Comedy" — which premiered 75 years ago today — was named Homer, which was also the name of the author of two epic books from ancient Greek literature, "Iliad" and "Odyssey." The story was set in the fictional town of Ithaca, California, which was based on the hometown of the author of "The Human Comedy," but the town's name was inspired by the books. Ithaca was also the name of the home of Odysseus, the hero of Homer's writing.

(There are some real Ithacas — most notably in New York — but the one in California was entirely fictional.)

Also, Homer's love interest in "The Human Comedy" was named Helen. In Greek mythology, Helen of Troy was said to be the most beautiful woman in the world — and the cause of the Trojan War. It was Helen's face that was said to have "launched a thousand ships."

Well, there is more, but I don't want to keep anyone from making those discoveries for themselves. Suffice to say there were many parallels between William Saroyan's novel and the stories from ancient Greece.

It would have been surprising if there weren't.

The book actually began as a screenplay that Saroyan wrote. Then Saroyan was fired from the film production and rushed to finish the book and get it published before the movie hit the theaters.

As I said, the story revolved around Homer (Mickey Rooney), a high school student who worked part time as a telegram delivery boy during World War II (his boss was played by Frank Morgan, who is remembered for playing Professor Marvel, the Wizard and the Gatekeeper in "The Wizard of Oz"). In that capacity, he often had to deliver news from the war to residents of the town. The narrator of the story was Homer's deceased father, played by Ray Collins.

The news was often sad — notices that people had been killed on the battlefields of Europe or in the Pacific — and it took its toll on Homer's sensitive soul.

"The Human Comedy" was a sentimental flick about the effects of war on the home front. In many ways, it was a precursor to The Waltons — if not in its setting, certainly in its affirmation of basic human values — worthy of Frank Capra.

Capra didn't direct it, though. Clarence Brown did — and he was nominated for the Best Director Oscar but didn't win.

The movie was nominated for Best Picture and Best Black–and–White Cinematography, and Rooney was nominated for Best Actor; all lost.

Saroyan won the Oscar for Best Original Motion Picture Story. How's that for irony?

Sunday, December 14, 2014

'National Velvet' Holds Up After 70 Years



"Some day you'll learn that greatness is only the seizing of opportunity — clutching with your bare hands 'til the knuckles show white."

Mi Taylor (Mickey Rooney)

Mickey Rooney (who died last spring) got top billing in "National Velvet," which premiered 70 years ago today.

But Elizabeth Taylor is the one who really made it the children's classic it became.

Before I saw it, I assumed from the title that the movie was about a horse named National Velvet — but that was not the way it was. Velvet was the name of Taylor's character, and the National part came from the Grand National steeplechase for which she trained the horse (who was known as "The Pie," short for "The Pirate," a name he acquired from a previous owner).

Rooney was in his 20s and a veteran of dozens of movies when "National Velvet" hit the theaters. Taylor, who was 12 years old, had been in only four, and two were uncredited (her most recent credited appearance had been in the first of the Lassie movies, "Lassie Come Home").

Even more of a newcomer was 19–year–old Angela Lansbury, who made her movie debut in "Gaslight" seven months earlier. Lansbury's role was small, like the roles of the other members of the family (including Anne Revere and Donald Crisp, who starred as the parents). They were mostly there as filler; by and large, it was a two–person show.

As attractive as Lansbury was as a young woman, I have often heard it said that Taylor was a great beauty even as a girl. The term woman–child seems like an exaggeration for most, but it might be appropriate for Taylor — for it almost seems as if she went from being an infant to being a woman overnight — with nothing in between.

I once saw a clip of an interview with a producer who was in the business in the 1930s and 1940s. He said Taylor was more beautiful at the age of 7 than most women ever are at any age.

Mr. Hallam (Arthur Shields): So you're to win the gelding, are you, Velvet?

Velvet: Oh, of course, I'm to win.

Mr. Hallam: There are ways of arranging it, aren't there? And your father's a clever man ...

Velvet: Oh, I didn't bother him, Mr. Hallam. I just arranged it with God.

Some people would argue about that, I guess, but there is no disputing the fact that Taylor was a very beautiful woman — and stunning as a girl.

And she played a resourceful character.

Rooney's character believed himself to be a coward because he wouldn't ride horses — he was a jockey at one time, but he caused an accident that led to the death of another jockey.

Anyway, for reasons that are best left to individual viewers to discover, the horse had no jockey the night before the Grand National, and Rooney tried to muster up enough courage to ride him — but Taylor decided she wanted to ride. She told Rooney to cut her hair so she would look more like a boy.

And he did.

I've seen a few horse racing sequences in the movies — some were good, some were not.

I was disappointed in the racing sequence in "Seabiscuit." I was more impressed with the sequences in "Secretariat," but, as in real life, the 1973 Belmont lacked suspense.

The sequence in "National Velvet" holds up well, even 70 years later, but if I was going to compare it to anything, I wouldn't compare it to another racing sequence. I would compare it to the fight scenes in the original "Rocky."

Both movies were mentioned in the American Film Institute's list of the top 100 inspiring movies. ("Rocky" was #4; "National Velvet" was #24.) "Seabiscuit" was on that list, but, inexplicably, "Secretariat" was not.

It's a heart–pounding, pulse–racing experience, all the more impressive because it was done with the limitations of 1940s technology.

While her screen time was limited, Revere won Best Supporting Actress, one of two Oscars won by "National Velvet" — Robert Kern's editing was the other.

Friday, November 28, 2014

The Premiere of Judy Garland's Transitional Movie



"A lie's a lie, and dressed in white don't help it."

Katie the maid (Marjorie Main)

Vincente Minnelli's "Meet Me in St. Louis," which premiered 70 years ago today, is highly regarded by the American Film Institute — as well as many devotees of the movie musical.

I say that from personal experience because my grandmother was a fan of movie musicals, and she always liked "Meet Me in St. Louis." Maybe that was because she really liked Judy Garland — which I knew as a child. But, when I got older and saw the movie for myself, I kind of felt the main attraction for "Meet Me in St. Louis" really was 6–year–old Margaret O'Brien, who appeared in several movies in 1944 and was rewarded with a special juvenile Oscar.

It was O'Brien's most memorable role in a movie career that was too short; she wasn't able to make the transition to adult roles as Garland (who also won a juvenile Oscar) had.

(Whatever the reason, I often heard my grandmother singing songs from "Meet Me in St. Louis." My grandmother loved to sing, and she had a pretty good voice, too. As a child, I didn't know which musical featured those songs, but the first time I saw the movie, I knew the words to the songs — and, in my head, I could hear my grandmother singing them.)

"Meet Me in St. Louis" was something of a milestone for Garland, though. It was her transitional movie, marking her shift from children's roles to adult roles. She was 22 when it premiered. She had been a teenager when she made "The Wizard of Oz," which was probably her breakout role (even though she had already made movies with Mickey Rooney by that time), but it was also a children's role.

And movie purists might argue that "Meet Me in St. Louis" wasn't really her first adult role; they might be inclined to mention "Presenting Lily Mars" or "For Me and My Gal," but I'll stick with "Meet Me in St. Louis" because it was more commercially successful than the others.

The story was set around the turn of the century — in St. Louis in the months before the opening of the 1904 World's Fair. It followed the Smith family, who enjoyed a middle–class lifestyle (which, at the turn of the century, was pretty darned affluent — affluent enough to afford a maid to take care of the family and the large house it occupied).

Leon Ames played the head of the household, and Mary Astor, not too far removed from her role in "The Maltese Falcon" and her Oscar–winning part in "The Great Lie," played his wife. Garland was one of their daughters. So were O'Brien, Lucille Bremer (who always reminds me of Julianne Moore — maybe it's the red hair) and Joan Carroll; Henry H. Daniels Jr. played the only son.

Carroll and Daniels had relatively small roles; Garland, O'Brien and Bremer got the most attention. Marjorie Main, who was best known for playing the movies' Ma Kettle, was the maid.

When I saw it for the first time, it was already three, maybe four decades old, and it struck me as being similar to "Life With Father" (which came out a few years later but was set perhaps 20 years earlier than "Meet Me in St. Louis").

Both movies were so frothy and sweet they could give you cavities — but they were also charming and endearing with stories that were mostly told from the young people's points of view. When Mr. Smith's work required him to uproot the family and move to New York, it created crises within the family: They would have to leave St. Louis before the start of the fair they all had been eagerly anticipating, and Garland's blooming relationship with the boy next door would collapse.

Oh, the humanity.

What's more, O'Brien (who was more aware of mortality than most children her age) began a serial execution of snowmen upon learning the news.

O'Brien stole the show, but "Meet Me in St. Louis" really was built around two themes — music and crises. It started with songs, then there was a family crisis, followed by more songs, then more crises, then more songs ... well, you get the idea.

Astonishingly, it was nominated for four Oscars. It didn't win any, but it was still nominated for its cinematography, screenplay, musical score and song ("The Trolley Song" by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane).

"Meet Me in St. Louis" was noteworthy for something else.

It was the first pairing of Garland and Minnellii, who married the following year.

The marriage ended in divorce, but it did produce a child — Liza Minnelli — who has enjoyed some professional success of her own.

They worked together on "The Clock" (1945) and "The Pirate" (1948) before they divorced, but Liza remains their most famous post–"Meet Me in St. Louis" collaboration.

The movie itself was remade twice for television — in 1959 and 1966.

The second remake was made without music and was intended as a pilot for a TV series, but it wasn't picked up. That's for the best, I suppose. O'Brien notwithstanding, it's hard to imagine "Meet Me in St. Louis" without Garland, isn't it?

(By the way, you can see "Meet Me in St. Louis" tomorrow at 11:30 a.m. Central time on Turner Classic Movies.)