Ugh.
Only two new releases this weekend. One of them is a wretched-looking Jonah Hill comedy (getting panned), and the other is a seasonal film from washed-up rom-com director Garry Marshall (getting worse). I normally wouldn’t mind a slow weekend like this in August or March, but this is December. It’s Oscar season. The studios are rolling out films like Shame, The Artist, Sleeping Beauty and Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. Hell, I don’t even know why the studios didn’t think to premiere The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo or Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows a couple of weeks early. They could have filled this void and started a blockbuster theatrical run relatively free of competition.
But no, the studios had to leave the field free and clear so that Breaking Dawn could get another weekend at #1 in the box office. And meanwhile, the aforementioned awards darlings are currently in limited release, none of which have yet come to Portland. To repeat: Ugh.
So this weekend, I must sate my cinematic appetite with an older release. I should take the opportunity to see a classic that I haven’t gotten around to just yet. And owing to the holiday season, something appropriately festive would be a plus. The selection at Movie Madness didn’t leave many such films to choose from (can’t imagine why), but it did offer several copies of White Christmas.
Hey, can’t go wrong with Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, and Irving Berlin. Oh, and it was also directed by Michael Curtiz of Casablanca fame. How could this get any better?
As if to answer my rhetorical question, the film opens with the statement: “Paramount proudly presents the first picture in VISTAVISION.” That’s seriously a title card that plays over the Paramount logo, with a fanfare and everything. Can you imagine what it would be like if studios still did that? Somehow, I doubt that Avatar would have made nearly as much money if it started with a list of cinematic inventions and innovations that went on for fifteen minutes. But I digress.
After the credits, the film has another title card: “Christmas Eve, 1944.” And literally before I could say “Oh, this must be a World War II movie,” the camera pulls back to show that we’re in an army camp. Either this movie’s that predictable or I’m getting that jaded. Anyway, the film’s prologue goes on for way longer than it had to. Really, all that’s needed to know is that Kaye and Crosby play war buddies who go on to be vaudeville stars after VE day. They later meet their love interests, a sister act played by Rosemary Clooney (yes, they’re related) and Vera Ellen. Convoluted hijinks ensue.
Our protagonists eventually meet another war buddy, formerly the general who commanded Kaye and Crosby, who’s now running a hotel on the verge of bankruptcy. So naturally, they have to put on a show to raise some money and keep the business solvent. And this point isn’t raised until 50 minutes into a two-hour film.
The plot of this movie is all over the map, the pacing is awful, and the structure is close to non-existent. Then again, part of the reason why is because so much screen time is given to the musical numbers. Luckily, these sequences are mostly outstanding for all the screentime and effort put into them, though there are some weaker ones. “Sisters” isn’t quite as fun or as comical as it should be, at least until the second time it’s performed. There’s also a song called “Snow,” which I personally found rather boring.
On the other hand, there’s the title song, which is of course untouchable. I was also very fond of the Minstrel number, a spectacular set piece overflowing with great set design, marvelous costumes, and some wonderful dancing, all with a merciful lack of blackface. Really, the screen absolutely lights up when Kaye and Crosby are singing and dancing together. Kaye makes for a very talented clown, and his dancing skills are phenomenal. As for Crosby, he needs no introduction. We all know that his voice is the stuff of legend, and this film is a great showcase for it.
Then we’ve got Clooney and Ellen, both of whom play characters who were transparently designed to be female versions of the male leads. Still, the actresses do a lot to make the characters fun. The romance subplots work beautifully, and not just because the four leads have such great chemistry. This musical uses the classic storytelling shorthand of having characters fall in love by singing and dancing together. And when the leads are this talented, that is a staggering thing to watch. “The Best Things Happen” and “Count Your Blessings” are both excellent cases in point.
Unfortunately, this cast has a major Achilles’ heel. I’m referring to the general, played by Dean Jagger. Not that Jagger does a terrible job, mind you, it’s just that the narrative lavishes so much affection and importance onto the character, and most of it feels unearned. The character gets relatively little screen time and he doesn’t do much of anything. I found this to be a considerable problem, since pretty much everything done by the other characters is done to some degree out of compassion and loyalty to the general. This was something I could neither share in nor understand on any level aside from the most superficial. Because I never really got to know this character, there was quite an emotional disconnect, particularly during the climax.
White Christmas is a brainless film, totally superficial, utterly inconsequential, and light as a feather. Though in a strange way, that’s part of the old-school charm that pervades the entire movie. Additionally, the acting is very good, the comedy is outstanding, and the musical numbers are spectacular by and large. This is just a quick and breezy 1950s romp to be enjoyed for two hours and immediately forgotten about afterwards. It’s definitely worth a recommendation on those grounds, and it’s a must-see for any musical fans out there.