“Push the button, Max!” – Professor Fate, usually before a catastrophe of his doing strikes
To say things have gotten tumultuous since the last review would be a gross understatement. But we’re not here to discuss today’s upheavals, important as they are. Let’s just take a moment to reflect and laugh. Lord knows we could use a good one right now.
Directed by esteemed comedy director and Hollywood bad boy Blake Edwards, The Great Race is a loving pastiche and send-up of silent comedies and melodramas from the early days of cinema (classic Laurel and Hardy in particular; the film even opens with a dedication to them). Thankfully the movie itself is not silent. What kind of genius madman would try to make a silent comedy in the late twentieth century?
Believe it or not, The Great Race was inspired by a real automobile race from New York to Paris that took place in 1908. Some of the more outlandish elements of the race like floating on icebergs across the sea were even based on genuine ideas that were proposed for the race but wisely ruled out. Despite its star power and a huge budget, The Great Race was a flop on release and quickly fell into obscurity. Critics assumed it was trying to ride off the popularity of Those Magnificent Men And Their Flying Machines, another big-budget all-star comedy with a similar premise. I’m more inclined to believe that its failure was due to the roadshow phenomenon that boomed in the late ’50s dying out at this point. It would be several more years until the epic format of a three-hour film with an overture and intermission faded from theaters completely, but audiences were already losing interest, and that rung The Great Race’s knell. Regardless, it’s garnered something of a cult fanbase from automobile aficionados (the original cars are still displayed at conventions), fans of classic cinematic comedies, and it even inspired the wildly popular Hanna-Barbera cartoon Wacky Races.
Hi! If this is your first time here, I highly recommend checking out my other movie/tv/holiday special reviewsbefore this one, just to get a more positive idea of what to expect from my writing. Usually, I’m not this…well, you clicked on this review, didn’t you?
I suppose I should begin this month with a little bit of Rankin-Bass’ history. It was founded in 1960 by Arthur Rankin Jr. and Jules Bass under the name Videocraft International. They began by producing animated television series for children, alternating between stop-motion and traditional cel animation before combining both with a process they called “Animagic” (which sounds more like a fireworks show at Disney World than an actual animation technique if you ask me). All the animation for these shows and the holiday specials and films that they would later branch out into were outsourced to Japan. Throughout the studio’s existence, work rotated between five different Japanese animation houses: MOM Production, Toei Animation, TCJ (Television Corporation of Japan), Mushi Production, and Topcraft. Chances are if you’re into anime, then these names ring a few bells. These studios have produced hit after hit on the big and small screen, with some of them continuing to do so today, and many of Topcraft’s animators went on to bigger and better things at Studio Ghibli.
Most of Rankin-Bass’ Christmas specials, particularly the ones I’ll be looking at, follow a simple formula – take a well-known holiday song and build a story around it. It’s not a bad concept if a bit overutilized. Their first outing, and most beloved in the eyes of many, is Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer, based on the tune of the same name written by Johnny Marks (who would also write the other songs in the special) and popularized by Gene Autry in 1949. The song itself was taken from a children’s book created a decade prior to promote the Montgomery Ward department store, and the special was sponsored by General Electric, who, by a stunning coincidence, were selling Christmas lights that holiday season which happened to resemble Rudolph’s nose.
In short, this special originated as a commercial, and always was one through and through.
In spite of its original intent, Rudolph has become a holiday staple and icon as big as Santa Claus himself. And if you are one of the millions of people on this planet who loves this special, there is absolutely nothing stopping you from doing so, and you are not wrong for enjoying it. After all, this is just one person expressing their opinion. If this person’s opinion differs from yours, that doesn’t invalidate how you feel nor should you feel as if you absolutely must agree with them –
“Hey…you’re making it sound like you’re about to say something bad about Rudolph!”
“Well, I-“
“Nobody dislikes Rudolph! Everyone in the entire world loves it! It’s a classic! The perfect Christmas special! You like Rudolph too, right? RIGHT?!”
“Please observe me if you will, I’m Professor Harold Hill,
And I’m here to organize the River City’s Boy’s Band!”
Let’s close out the summer with what I consider a must-watch summer musical. Doesn’t hurt that the main action kicks off on the Fourth of July.
“Missing another appropriate holiday-themed movie by several months. Ah, it’s good to be back.”
Based on the stories and childhood of Meredith Wilson, The Music Man weaves a tale of small town turn-of-the-century America, marching bands, charming charlatans, and the power of music that brings them all together. The original stage production notoriously beat West Side Story for Best Musical at the Tony Awards, though Tony and Maria got the last laugh when it came to the Oscars. I contend however that 1962’s The Music Man is a prime example of how to do a stage-to-screen adaptation. Through a combination of top-notch talent, music, staging, and witty witticisms it’s one of the crowning jewels of the Golden Age of Hollywood Musicals that lasted through the 60’s. Fifty years later its impact is still felt, at least musically. Chances are if you ambled down Main Street USA in any of the Disney parks you’ve heard the melodies of “Iowa Stubborn”, “Lida Rose”, “The Wells Fargo Wagon”, and “76 Trombones” playing in the background. It’s a staple for community theaters across the country. And like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and The Sound of Music, it’s one of Seth MacFarlane’s most beloved and referenced musicals.
As the song goes, “Let’s start from the very beginning, a very good place to start…”
In September of 1938, Georg and Maria von Trapp, who, along with their seven children, made up the talented singing group The Von Trapp Family Singers, emigrated from Austria to America to escape the growing hostility of Hitler’s early years in power. Their story was made into a film in 1956, “The Trapp Family”, which was seen by Broadway director Vincent J. Donehue. He thought it would be the perfect vehicle for his actress friend Mary Martin and brought on Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II, aka Rodgers and Hammerstein, aka the songwriting team known for “South Pacific” and “The King and I” among others, to write a couple of songs for it. Eventually R&H ended up turning the play with music into a full-out musical, and in the process created one of the most iconic and beloved shows to date. The original production won five out of its nine nominated Tonys, many of its songs have become vocal standards, and it’s enjoyed countless revivals on Broadway and the high school theater circuit (I myself was in my school’s production; despite the fact I had a good chance of playing Liesl I got the role of the housekeeper because the director liked to play favorites when casting).
Naturally the show’s success meant a film adaptation was inevitable, and much of the show’s original creative team was on board. Cancer had other plans, however, and it sadly took the life of Oscar Hammerstein shortly after the original theatrical production premiered, leaving Rodgers to re-work the music and write new songs on his own. Despite losing half of Rodgers and Hammerstein, there wasn’t much difficulty in getting the film made apart from coaxing Robert Wise – who had already directed the Oscar-winning adaptation of West Side Story and was the first choice to direct this movie – to sign on. Another first choice to play Maria was Julie Andrews, who screenwriter Ernest Lehman clamored to join immediately after seeing her in Mary Poppins. A much harder actor to get was Christopher Plummer for the role of Captain Von Trapp; he eventually agreed but only if he could work with Lehman to improve the character. Normally when an actor does this it rarely turns out well (and Plummer later admitted that he was quite arrogant at the time due to his successful stage career), but I think Plummer’s enhancements were a major improvement to Captain Von Trapp, and I’ll get into why later.
The Sound of Music is often cited by critics and theater fans in general as one of the greatest musicals of all time, and arguably the best stage-to-screen adaptations to date – and they’re not wrong. As someone who’s been in the stage version, I personally think the movie is even better (and that’s not bitterness towards the director talking). The musical numbers are iconic to the point of being parodied countless times AND most revivals of the show go out of their way to incorporate elements from the film rather than follow the show’s original book. The Hollywood Bowl in California has a sing-along with the movie every year that always sells out, Austria has a popular tour route that visits locations where the film was shot, it’s been shown annually on ABC during the holidays since 1976, and it has the unusual distinction of being Seth McFarlane’s favorite movie (then again, looking at how many times he’s referenced it on his shows, it’s no big surprise. I swear he hosted the Oscars just so he could make this joke when introducing Christopher Plummer).
So after all that buildup, how does the film hold up? Let’s find out.
We open on a version of the 20th Century Fox logo without the traditional fanfare. Sounds weird, huh? It’s hard to imagine it without the music that always accompanies it, but it leads into the film in a way that took Robert Wise a lot of convincing on his part to accomplish, and pays off brilliantly. The film truly begins on a montage of the Austrian countryside, starting through the clouds and flying over the mountains. I remember hating this part as a kid because there was no music and it felt like it dragged on forever. It was something I never truly appreciated until I was older, however. Slowly the film draws us into its world, showing us the majesty and making us anticipate the Also, thanks to the magic of blu-ray, we can hear the orchestra starting up in places like snatches of birdsong on the wind, all leading up to the film’s most iconic shot – in one long take, we pull in on a vast green hill, where a tiny lone figure climbs up and spins in rapture as we draw closer.
And the opening song…my words can do no justice. Enjoy.
Everything from the visuals to Julie Andrew’s beautiful voice makes it one of the greatest film openings of all time. I admit, it’s hard for me not to get a little choked up seeing it.
The sound of church bells calls Maria away and after returning for her discarded habit, she runs to the abbey. After the opening credits, we see the nuns in the abbey performing mass, and regardless of whether or not you’re religious in any capacity, this whole scene is beautifully shot. It gives you the idea of how these nuns live, showing their devotion to God through their solemnity.
After the mass, Mother Abbess (Peggy Wood) is approached by one of the sisters who is searching for Maria. Mother Abess recommends searching somewhere unusual since Maria herself is “unusual”. This leads into her and the rest of the nuns, Sister Margaretta, Berthe and Sophia (Anna Lee, Portia Nelson and Marni Nixon respectively) discussing the situation that is Maria – she is a novice hoping to take her vows, but she has a youthful enthusiasm and playfulness that is impossible to tame. Sisters Margaretta and Sophia find her antics amusing, but Sister Berte finds her immature and out of place in the abbey. The others are split, and they sing about her transgressions – her lateness for everything except supper, her honest penance but (gasp!) singing in the abbey – in “How Do You Solve a Problem Like a Maria”, a tune that’s impossible to get out of your head once you hear it. As if to prove their point, Maria herself interrupts the number by running in to wash up and sneak into the chapel, only to realize she’s been caught and skulks off.
Also, if I may, I’d like to give a shout-out to Marni Nixon. You’ve probably heard her sing in a lot of other classic musicals but have never seen her face – this is because she was hired to dub over the singing for some of the actresses. Natalie Wood in West Side Story, Deborah Kerr in The King And I, and Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady are all guilty of “stealing” her voice.
Robert Wise liked Miss Nixon enough to recognize that she could act as well as sing, and gave her a role in the film. It’s nice that after a long time of singing behind the scenes, she was able to finally do so onscreen.
