Below you'll find the movies that, to my mind, best capture the essence of Christmas, year in and year out. These titles seem particularly fitting now, as we see the rampant consumerism of recent years yield to the fundamentals of the holiday - as a special time for family and friends to come together and give thanks. The values and emotions imparted in these timeless films are sure to stoke the spirit of "Peace On Earth, Good Will Towards Men" (and Women).
Holiday Inn (1942) - Don't miss this funny, festive Bing Crosby/Fred Astaire musical about two friends who launch an inn open only on holidays. The film is best known for first introducing "White Christmas", the best-selling single of all time, and an instant favorite with troops then overseas. "Inn" remains consistently tuneful and entertaining, with a sublime Irving Berlin score that covers not just Christmas, but all major holidays. And Astaire and Crosby make a winning team. (For the record, I prefer this Crosby feature to the overbaked, oversaturated "White Christmas", released twelve years later.)
It's A Wonderful Life (1946) - A heartwarming holiday treat, Frank Capra's masterful handling of the bittersweet storyline-in which one George Bailey (James Stewart) sacrifices his own dreams to save the family savings-and-loan business and keep his hometown of Bedford Falls out of the greedy paws of a heartless banker-is pure Hollywood magic. Donna Reed (as Bailey's wife, Mary) and Lionel Barrymore (as the banker) give exceptional performances, but Stewart is the dynamic, all-too-human force holding it all together.
Miracle On 34th Street (1947) - Was there ever a better big-screen Santa than Oscar-winner Edmund Gwenn? This delightful fable about an elderly retiree turned Macy's Santa who sets New York a-twitter with his claim to be the real article gets at the heart of the question: if we humans can no longer believe in things we may not understand, what exactly is the point of Christmas? Look for a cute, young Natalie Wood as a disbelieving young girl Gwenn's Kris Kringle converts.
The Bishop's Wife (1947) - Cary Grant portrays Dudley, the suavest of angels who visits Earth at holiday time to set a certain bishop's priorities straight. Co-starring David Niven as the bishop and a dazzling Loretta Young as the title character, this joyful, witty film still has something to say about keeping the spirit of Christmas alive all year round. And Cary was never better.
Scrooge (1950) - Based on Charles Dickens's most widely read and enduring story, this definitive 1951 British version outdoes all others for atmosphere and characterization. The incomparable Alastair Sim, a gifted actor who seamlessly inhabits the title role, makes you feel there could be no other Scrooge. The film runs just eighty-five minutes, yet delivers the story's full impact, with Sim's droopy eyes projecting all of Scrooge's terror, shame, and regret.
The Apartment (1960) - Peerless Billy Wilder feature about C.C. Baxter (Jack Lemmon), an insurance man climbing the corporate ladder by lending out his bachelor pad for his bosses' assignations. Baxter falls for elevator girl Fran (Shirley MacLaine), but she's still involved in a messy romance going nowhere. Unhappy circumstances draw Fran into Baxter's orbit over the holidays. Will love blossom between these two lost souls? We find out by New Year's, in this poignant tale of loneliness and love.
The Homecoming (1971) - This was the wildly successful TV movie that spawned "The Waltons" TV series. On a Christmas Eve during the Depression, Olivia Walton (Patricia Neal) and her large brood wait anxiously for patriarch John, who's been forced to take a job far from home. With inclement weather making roads impassable, will he make it home for Christmas? The simple, touching "Homecoming" underlines the importance of family love and solidarity over material possessions. Neal is superb.
The House Without A Christmas Tree (1972) - Director Paul Bogart's deceptively unadorned story, adapted from Gail Rock's autobiographical book, involves one transformative Christmas in the 1940's. Precocious Addie (Lisa Lucas) badly wants a Christmas tree, but for James, her widower Dad (Jason Robards), such beauty only brings back his lost wife and past holidays he feels he must forget. He sternly forbids a tree in the house, but underestimates Addie's determination and cunning. See this one for Robards, one of the most powerful actors of his time.
A Christmas Story (1983) - An irresistible, often hilarious 40's-era holiday tale about young Ralphie Parker (Peter Billingsley), growing up in a loving but eccentric family, and his obsession with getting a very special air-gun for Christmas. Initially, his parents (Darren McGavin and Melinda Dillon) supply precious little hope. Will Ralphie's desperate yearning wear them down in the end? Based on a Jean Shepherd short story, the movie benefits from an immense heart, rich period detail and quirky comic characters.
A Child's Christmas In Wales (1987) - Spending Christmas with his daughter's family, a grandfather (Denholm Elliott) reminisces with his enraptured grandson Thomas about his own boyhood holiday memories in Wales. Inspired by a Dylan Thomas poem, Don McBrearty's lyrical, heartwarming "A Child's Christmas" is a simple, one-of-a kind piece originally produced for public television. Some of the language may be lost on the little ones, but the movie exudes so much charm and Yuletide spirit that it really won't matter.
As we confront an uncertain and bewildering economic downturn, it's
instructive to look back at the factors that sustained the public
through the truly desperate conditions brought on by The Great
Depression.
Part of what differentiates that period from any fiscal downturn
since is the lack of safeguards then in place to blunt the impact of
sudden joblessness and destitution. The safety nets that have existed
since, while hardly ideal, have helped, but they were only created in
response to that unprecedented crisis that began close to eighty years
ago.
Stories abound of the fallout from that first shocking collapse:
Wall Street millionaires turned penniless hurled themselves out of
office windows or simply put a gun to their head. But most Americans,
of course, survived. How did they manage it?
Believe it or not, movies contributed...more than one might guess.
But it wasn't simply the intrinsic nature of motion pictures that
accounted for this palliative effect. It was a savvy Hollywood that
responded to challenging times by recognizing what a transformed public
would want to see and leveraging the full might of the studio system to
provide it.
Entering the '30s, the film industry itself was in a precarious
place. Just as Black Tuesday hit, the business was in massive flux
converting from silent films to sound. Careers had ended and been
launched virtually overnight, and Hollywood was investing heavily in
sound technology, focusing feverishly on making the new technology work
better so that "talkies" could reach their full potential.
There was no guarantee that movies would survive in this new
environment. In fact, conventional wisdom held that filmed
entertainment was a luxury that few could or would be able to access.
The moguls then decided that the best possibility for success was to
make movies literally indispensible to people's lives and well-being.
First, they would move heaven and earth to get the public back in
theatres, offering another free plate for their plate set with each
theatre visit, and giving them a whole string of entertainment to make
their experience richer and more varied: cartoons, newsreels, serials
or "B" film entries, and finally, the "featured attraction".
Doubtless all the extra inducements, both on- and off-screen, helped
boost initial ticket sales, but primarily what made people skip meals
to go back to the movies again and again had more to do with the main
features- known as the "A" pictures.
Hollywood knew that the most precious commodity for the times was
escape, and they were in a unique position to deliver it via their best
films. Such productions were intended to boost industry prestige, as
well as serve as a tonic for battered souls in dire need of some
laughter and reassurance. These movies showcased the talented and
glamorous stars which the studios shaped and groomed so assiduously,
and employed the talents of the finest directors, writers and craftsmen
then under contract.
So if the public had to survive without all the good things money
could buy, at least they could live vicariously through on-screen
characters that did possess them. They'd laugh at the absurdity of the
leisure class and their contrived, shallow problems, while also
drinking in their heady style and sophistication. Having done so, they
would emerge from the theatre with enough renewed hope to get them
through one more week of grim reality.
Thus was born the screwball comedy- a form very much of its time, as
more recent attempts to recreate it have almost invariably fallen flat.
Yet the best screwballs also remain timeless, as fresh and clever today
as they were on release.
Following in chronological order are my own selections for top screwball entries from the 1930's:
Trouble In Paradise (1932) - Parisian jewel thieves
Gaston (Herbert Marshall) and Lily (Miriam Hopkins) fall in love over
dinner-trying to pick each other's pockets. With a wealthy widow, Mme.
Colet (Kay Francis), as their latest mark, they craftily install
themselves as her secretary and typist, respectively. But things get
complicated when Gaston must pretend to fall for the beautiful heiress
(or is he pretending?), and she returns the compliment. German-born
director Ernst Lubitsch specialized in soufflé-light, sophisticated
comedies that poked sly fun at conventional mores. "Trouble" is one of
his best outings, cheerily touting the marvels of sex and riches. Along
with the rarefied atmosphere, the snappy dialogue and witty ripostes
exemplify what came to be called "The Lubitsch Touch." If you like your
chuckles with a touch of class, here's your movie.
Twentieth Century (1934) - Broadway producer Oscar
Jaffe (John Barrymore) creates a star in the beautiful Lily Garland
(Carole Lombard), then alienates her, ultimately causing a decline in
his own fortunes. He happens upon Lily (now embarked on a successful
Hollywood career) on the luxurious Twentieth Century Limited train, and
while she is a captive audience, attempts to woo her back into the
Jaffe fold. Don't pass up this opportunity to see Barrymore in his
funniest performance as the histrionic Jaffe. Meanwhile, Lombard is
leading lady gorgeous, but also exhibits her trademark comic flair in
the ripe role of Lily. The screenplay, by partners Charles MacArthur
and Ben Hecht, moves as fast as that train. By all means, get on-board!
It Happened One Night (1934) - Ellie Andrews
(Claudette Colbert), a mixed-up heiress, hits the road incognito to
escape a loveless impending marriage and a chronically over-protective
father (Walter Connolly). Riding with the common folk on a bus, she
meets reporter Peter Warne (Clark Gable), who grudgingly befriends this
unusual creature, who appears curiously oblivious to the ways and
customs of real life. When Peter discovers her true identity, he knows
he's got hold of the story of the century, but by this time, he's also
started to have feelings for Ellie. What's a smitten newsman to do?
Frank Capra's sublime romantic comedy swept the 1934 Oscars, and it's
still easy to understand why. Few seventy-five year old movies hold up
like this one. Colbert makes a winning, deft comedienne (check out that
hitch-hiking scene!), and Gable was never more natural and appealing,
winning his only Oscar for this role. The scene where Peter takes off
his shirt and exposes his bare chest was a first, and reportedly,
sounded a death knell for the undershirt industry. Hail to the walls of
Jericho!
My Man Godfrey (1936) - Through a charity contest
only the idle rich could invent, a daffy family chooses a forgotten man
from skid row to become the new butler in their chaotic household.
Younger daughter Irene (Carole Lombard) proceeds to fall in love with
him. However, Godfrey (William Powell), the object of her affections,
is not precisely who or what he seems. Gregory La Cava's sublime comedy
blends screwball elements with more serious overtones on Depression-era
class injustice, to create a wildly entertaining yet thought-provoking
movie that holds up beautifully. The term "debonair" must have been
coined for Powell, and Lombard makes for an adorable ditz. (Trivia
note: the two stars had been married briefly several years earlier, but
had divorced amicably). Highlights: comic actor Mischa Auer as Mrs.
Bullock's "protégé", along with the rotund Eugene Pallette as Mr.
Bullock, the family's frustrated industrialist father, who appears more
like an impotent keeper at an asylum.
Libeled Lady (1936) - The ever-smooth William
Powell returns as Bill Chandler, a freelance journalist hired by his
old newspaper to squelch a libel suit brought by society heiress Connie
Allenbury (Myrna Loy). To do this, Bill must make Connie fall for him
and then place her in a compromising position. Ultimately, he melts her
icy exterior, but ends up falling in love himself. What's yet another
smitten newsman to do? Nominated for a Best Picture Oscar in 1936, Jack
Conway's underexposed gem is a raucous farce buzzing with zany humor,
thanks to a flurry of impeccable one-liners delivered by Powell and
Loy, reunited from their first pairing in "The Thin Man." Playing
Haggerty, the newspaper's frantic editor, and Gladys, his continually
jilted fiancée, Spencer Tracy and Jean Harlow round out a stellar
foursome in this fast-paced, ingenious laugh-fest.
Topper (1937) - George and Marion Kirby (Cary Grant
and Constance Bennett) seem to have it all: they're rich, attractive,
and live the high life- that is, until they're killed when driving
their roadster a bit too fast. Now bona-fide ghosts, it seems the
couple have one final errand to do before going to their eternal rest:
help their stifled, hen-pecked banker Cosmo Topper (Roland Young) get
more out of life-while he's still living! This uproarious comedy
represented another crucial step to super-stardom for Cary Grant, who
proves himself a gifted comic player as well as handsome leading man.
Bennett (older sister of Joan) is the essence of high-toned style and
effervescent charm as wife Marion. Still the revelation is Young, who
proves a consistent delight as the put-upon Cosmo, a man who must cope
not only with a rigid, controlling wife (Billie Burke), but a couple of
goofy, upper crust specters who keep turning his well-ordered world
upside down.
Easy Living (1937) - Frustrated with his wife's
spending habits, financier J.B. Ball (Edward Arnold) throws his wife's
new $58,000 sable coat out of the window, where it alights on the
shoulders of working-girl Mary Smith (Jean Arthur), who's riding to the
office on a double-decker bus. When she tries to return the coat, the
blustering "Bull of Broad Street" indulges her with a new hat and a
ride to work, unwittingly opening the door to a world of instant
fortune--and a heap of personal troubles. The great Preston Sturges
penned this farcical, rags-to-riches romance, in which an innocent
secretary is assumed by her snitty coworkers and a hotelier to be the
mistress of an older, married tycoon. As always with a Sturges picture,
this is only the beginning of delightfully nutty entanglements, and
director Mitchell Leisen's light touch with the script allows the
future director's comic vision to unfold without a hitch. A young Ray
Milland also shines as Ball's independent- minded son, who becomes
Mary's bumbling love interest.
The Awful Truth (1937) - Cary Grant and Irene Dunne
play Jerry and Lucy Warriner, a wealthy young couple who temporarily
drift apart, stray and finally, initiate divorce proceedings. Both are
unwilling to admit the obvious fact that they're still in love. Their
eventual rapprochement becomes one delightful, often hilarious dance.
Director Leo McCarey was considered a comedic genius, and this
consistently sharp, side-splitting picture supports that claim. The
film cemented the reputations of both Grant and Dunne as gifted comic
players with superb timing. Ralph Bellamy also stands out in the
thankless role of the other man opposite Grant, a part he would assume
again in the classic "His Girl Friday" several years later. Finally,
look for the pooch who plays the Warriners' pet, Mr. Smith. He is none
other than Skippy, who played Asta in "The Thin Man" and George in
"Bringing Up Baby".
Bringing Up Baby (1938) - Paleontologist David
Huxley (Cary Grant) leads a quiet, studious life, and is engaged to a
proper, like-minded young woman. Then, quite by accident he runs into
dizzy heiress Susan Vance (Katharine Hepburn), who immediately takes a
shine to the handsome, bespectacled scientist. Used to getting just
what she wants, Susan simply won't let David go. Before long, Huxley's
life gets turned upside down, as Susan kidnaps him to her starchy
aunt's Connecticut estate, along with her explorer brother's recently
arrived present, a tame leopard called "Baby". The comic mayhem
escalates from there. Howard Hawks's quintessential screwball outing
remains one of our most riotous and inspired screen comedies. Grant and
Hepburn (who'd do "The Philadelphia Story" two years later) are in
fabulous form, with Grant wholly convincing as the nerdy, befuddled
victim, and Kate on fire as a flaky but determined lass who's finally
found true love, and intends to hold on, come what may. This "Baby" is
fun, fast and oh-so-funny.
Midnight (1939) - Arriving at midnight in Paris
without a penny to her name, American showgirl Eve Peabody (Claudette
Colbert) meets Hungarian cabbie Tibor (Don Ameche), who takes an
instant shine to this beauty in gold lame. Eve has other plans, though,
and ditches Tibor to crash a Parisian high-society party, using his
exotic-sounding surname. There, the "Baroness Czerny" meets aristocrat
George Flammarion (John Barrymore), who, once he learns of Eve's clever
disguise, makes her an irresistible proposition. Colbert was never
better than in this inspired comedy directed by Mitchell Leisen, which
has lost none of its punchy wit or saucy flair with time. That has a
lot to do with the cheeky script by Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett,
who keep things delightfully ripe with the threat of Eve's exposure:
Barrymore lures her to Versailles, where her job is to distract Jacques
Picot (Francis Lederer), playboy lover of his wife, Helene (Mary
Astor). When Ameche shows up in pursuit of Colbert, the fun really
begins. The impeccable plotting and cynical banter will keep you in
stitches.
Revisiting this impressive and enduring movie legacy inevitably begs
the question: will Hollywood again raise their sights and put out some
first-rate comedies to help us weather this latest mess? Considering
the structure of the industry today and the quality of their recent
output, I wouldn't bet on it--but how I would love to be proven wrong!
