We're Going To Wake This Town Up Ourselves: The Blob (1958)

Before getting into the amazing cinematic gem that is 1958's The Blob, I want to thank Michael and Jill at Sittin' On A Backyard Fence for giving me the opportunity to be involved in the TCM Summer Under the Stars blogathon, because it is allowing me to both revisit some of my favorite pieces of cinema, while also catching up with at least one film I have never seen, in hopes of capturing a new gem.  As such, my first entry focuses on The Blob, a work I have often described as a "fine wine" of the b-movie genre, because unlike many of its counterparts it is a film that seriously does seem to become more rewarding with age.  Everything from the earnest attempts of the amateur church actors to the stunning performance by Steve McQueen make up for a highly watchable film, one that carries an considerable amount of believability despite being about a large mass of goo attacking a small town.  Of course, much of this has to do with the aforementioned acting that contains balance of professionalism and amateurishness, thus reflecting what a small town in the grips of a natural disaster might look like, however, that is only one part of the equation.  For being a film that barely clocks in at eighty minutes, The Blob is a wonderfully cinematic experience, using surprisingly thrilling special effects that seem just as real fifty years from its release, as I am sure they did when initially shocking moviegoers way back when.  I would be entirely ready to call The Blob a piece of cinematic perfection purely from a structuralist standpoint, considering that a scene like The Blob invading the movie theater stand as one of the great moments in metacinema, however, this film, much like many b-movies, affords  itself a high degree of social commentary under its guise of simply being a schlocky horror film.  Considering its release date in 1958, it is a film decidedly coming to terms with an imminent Cold War, a ideology that literally influences the film, however, when one considers some of the other classics of Cold War horror, it becomes clear that The Blob is far from paranoid propaganda and, indeed, is something more indicative of considering lingering trauma, the fears of unquestioned authority and a general study of the pains of moving away from youthful innocence.

The Blob begins, as you may know with one of the iconic opening songs, written by a then relatively unknown musician by the name of Burt Bacharach.  The upbeat and swinging song manages to become a point of irony when the film immediately shifts to an image of a young couple making out quietly in the woods.  The couple Steve (Steve McQueen) and Jane (Aneta Coursat) are young and foolish, especially Steve who gets caught in his own web of faux seduction, when Jane calls him out for using the same rehashed pick-up lines to woe her into laying in his arms.  Yet, their moment of bickering and subsequent fondness are undermined when an unusually large shooting star fills the sky, one that catches the attention of not only Steve and Jane but a group of young men from town, who pass the couple, demanding that they race them backwards through the streets of town.  When caught by a local deputy known by his first name Dave (Earl Rowe) Steve and Jane agree to settle down and not get into more trouble through the night, a promise that is immediately broken when they discover a man on the side of the road flailing and screaming with an arm that appears to be covered in a large mucous-like blister.  Confused the two rush the man to Dr. Hallen (Stephen Chase), their local physician, who is equally baffled by the mass that appears to be expanding.  Assuming that the doctor has things under control, Steve and Jane leave, but when Steve witnesses Dr. Hallen being attacked in his office, the two head to the police station to warn of an attack by some sort of monster.  Given that the two have already been caught speeding, Dave and the rest of the police force are skeptical, particularly when an investigation seems to suggest vandalism and not a monster attack.  Frustrated the police return the couple to their parents and plan to investigate further the next day.  Steve is certain that he saw a monster and with the help of Jane, leaves his house to investigate, discover that there is indeed a large blob attacking the city.  Throwing all understanding of authority to the wind, Steve wakes the town up in time to avoid a huge attack at the local theater, thus leading to the police acknowledging the problem.  After a fearfully being trapped in a dining car, Steve, Jane and a handful of other people discover that the blob is fearful of cold things and using CO2 fire extinguishers, manage to keep the monster at bay long enough to have the government transport it to the frozen tundra of the arctic, with the suggestion that such a method of suppression is only temporary.

Indeed, it is the very notion of having to freeze this beast that carries the most anachronistic reference to the Cold War, wherein a decidedly scientific form of attack destroys a monster that expands inexplicably consuming humans in its path.  The idea of an entity growing and consuming those around it was one of the major fears of the Cold War, especially in regards to communist rhetoric and ideology.  I would posit, however, that the narrative of The Blob, is not one of a cautionary tale against the assumed threats of communism, although, a case could be made for it being a drawn out fire safety PSA!  I would be more inclined to suggest that much of The Blob is concerned with dealing with lingering traumas and the affect they have on youthful bliss.  Many references are made to characters having experienced loss in their past, particularly the police chief whose wife, it is suggested, died in an unfortunate traffic accident.  His particularly vindictive attitude towards the teens in his town, exists because the other person in the accident happened to be young.  Yet his angry disillusionment is not the only one that exists, indeed another man makes considerable note of his own angst as a World War II veteran who finds the decided decadence and indifference of late 50's America baffling and disconcerting.  As such, a particular malaise seems to cloud over the town, affecting Steve, Jane and the other teenagers, not physically but emotionally, making it as though they are criminals and trouble even when at their most innocent, or in the case of Steve most inclined to help.  The presence of The Blob, then comes to represent a physical manifestation of this malaise and trauma, one that the the adults and authorities in the community want to ignore, because doing so allows them to attain a degree of power and complacency through ignorance, yet when the monsters reality becomes far too large to ignore, Steve and the other young people's wild delusions of grandeur become a reality.  The adults must face their literal monster(s), one that continues to grow until they learn to freeze and suppress it, although it does always carry the possibility of reemerging.  Also, it is worth noting that the movie theater scene, could almost exist now as a metaphor about the way Cold War propaganda seeped into American culture, here in a very literal sense.

Key Scene:  While the movie theater moment is the obvious answer here, I want to make note of a monologue Steve McQueen gives earlier in the film after the realization of the blob coming from space. He speaks about things becoming not about him and Jane, but about the universe as a whole, thus changing the meaning of every action.  For a film of such a low budget and action oriented plot, this has to be one of the great existential moments of pondering ever filmed.

I had a chance to catch up with the Criterion bluray.  It is spectacular and a crisp transfer.  One that is almost worth nabbing for the menu screen alone and to check out more excellent posts from The Summer Under the Stars blogathon, head on over to Sittin' on a Backyard Fence and ScribeHard on Film for blogs about Steve McQueen movies, as well as a ton of other great stars from the classic years of Hollywood.

2013 Summer Reading Classic Film Book Challenge (Book 2) British Cinema and the Cold War: The State, Propaganda and Consensus

I recall earlier on in my academic career giving a presentation on the image of Latin America in Hollywood from the forties through the seventies, which meant that I had to discuss the effect of Cold War ideology on a particular set of films released from the fifties through the sixties.  After I had completed my presentation a former professor of mine asked my thoughts on what "caused the Cold War" to which I do not recall my exact response, but I am certain it was something along the lines of suggesting that is impossible to pinpoint all the complexities of what started and to another degree what ended the war of ideals.  I figured that by entrenching myself behind the purely filmic I would never have to deal with such analysis, or could at least pass it off with vague indifference.  I used to think that, but then I read Tony Shaw's magnificent study of British cinema during the era titled British Cinema and the Cold War: The State, Propaganda and Consensus.  Where many historians will occasionally throw a piece of culture or two into their political breakdowns as a means to show that they are not stuffy intellectuals, Shaw does not bend under the pressures of historical exactitude and manages to draw out the necessary information about British involvement between East and West opposition.  Furthermore, when doing histories of cinema, it is often the case that the film historian working on the piece will make sweeping brush strokes about rather detailed historical moments, hoping that by doing so the reader will glean only enough to make their argument worthwhile.  Shaw does neither, he works with intimate care to assure that both the history and the cultural product receive an equal degree of mention, making sure to acknowledge the moments when an event led to a cultural product, just as he notes moments when a film, or a series of films lead to a political movement or were used in a propagandistic manner to affirm or discredit a cause.  I can say with absolute certainty that there is not a better text written about Cold War culture available and would even argue that Shaw's text stands to be one of the best works on history of film in general, holding such importance as Haskell's From Reverence to Rape or pretty much any text released by the late Roger Ebert.  Simply put, there are few texts with such cohesion as Shaw's, and it only helps that he choses absolutely enthralling films to discuss.

The Cold War and cinema does, admittedly, seem like a highly specialized topic and one that would be relevant to only those doing research.  Indeed, I came to it by the way of looking for information about masculinity in the era and while Shaw's book does not provide much in the way of that topic, it did prove quite informative in my understanding of studio systems, production and the process of British filmmaking that will invariably help me undertake at least two different imminent projects.  As noted earlier, this serves a hybrid text that intersects two areas of academia flawlessly allowing for unison to form.  When this is unsuccessful the result can be unflattering, as is the case with Jeremy Black's incredibly well-researched buy dry and unreadable The Politics of James Bond.  I would go so far as to suggest that Shaw's book is the ideal place to start if a person were interested in looking at the way in which politics influence film, regardless of era or locale.  Similarly, Shaw handles the equally complex topic of propaganda with such grace and poise that were it not for the seminal text by Edward Bernays I would say that this would be the place to begin such a quest for understanding.  Fortunately, even with his ability to attract the most general of readership, Shaw's text provides moments of insight and hidden gems for the more seasoned reader, tackling more experimental and non-mainstream texts alongside the important franchise works of the time, given brief but necessary credit to both the Carry On series, as well as James Bond.  Furthermore, in his understanding of the global nature of Cold War cinema, Shaw occasionally taps into the wealth of American films made during the time to draw upon ones that would extend metaphorically to Britain as well.  His reading of Dr. Strangelove is spot on and refreshing in comparison to its usual entrenchment within the psychoanalytic.  For those who have a preconceived notion of British cinema existing in a stuffy vaccuum of period piece melodramas and quip heavy comedies should take a glance at British Cinema and the Cold War, it will cause you not only to reconsider an entire nationhood's film history, but it will inspire you to branch your research beyond just the cinematic texts.

Best film discovery of the book:  While it is technically a rediscovery, because I know I watched it at least once as a kid, Shaw's discussion of the 1954 animated version of Animal Farm speaks to it as being one of the highlights of Cold War cinema, despite its seemingly specified audience.  A bit baffled by its inclusion, I decided to catch up with it only to realize that it is a creepy and thematically dark text that does wonders to metaphorically comment upon the Cold War, as well as existing as a solid adaptation.  You can find relatively cheap copies of the text readily available on Amazon, for which the cool cover helps.

People Gotta Talk Themselves Into Law And Order: High Noon (1952)

High Noon was a film that stood high on my shame list for having not seen, particularly considering that it was perhaps the most often recommended western, when I did my initial search and planning for viewings, not to mention being one of the highest ranking westerns on the greatest films of all time lists, usually breaking into top fifty in many cases.  In fact, at #27 it is the highest ranking western on the AFI Top 100 movies list, which is a respectable feat, considering the other worthy films it is beating out for the honor.  I knew that I would enjoy this film some combination of Grace Kelly, Gary Cooper and Fred Zimmerman assured that this would be a great film and when I received my bluray from Netflix in the mail I was admittedly baffled by its relatively short runtime of eighty odd minutes a initial hesitation that was contradicted when I realized that this particular western is filmed in near real time, each even building within the course of a few hours and edited in such a way as to allow for the paranoia and nervousness of an impending shootout to tick away like the pendulums of the clocks that occupy the film continually.  In fact, if I am to concede to The Furies being the best shot film in the entire month, then it goes without saying that High Noon will prove to be the most well-edited, between repeated shots to empty train tracks awaiting the arrival of the film's antagonist and the continual use of close-ups that quickly jump to empty chairs and desolate town streets drive the feeling of this film to another level, only aided by a maddening soundtrack.  If all of the magnificent elements of the film's composition were not enough, High Noon proves to be one of the greater realizations of Cold War cinema, with perfect metaphors to the McCarthy Hearings, as well as a set of characters who possess a deep rooted fear of an impending crisis, one that causes them to be incredibly self-invovled and indifferent to law and justice in the face of their own survival.  High Noon, again, does all of these things perfectly and in such a concise manner that it is hard not to completely adore this work, each shot being a vision of filmmaking whether casting an aura of over the ethereal Grace Kelley or feverishly capturing the piercing eyes of a very young Lee Van Cleef.

High Noon begins with a marriage between the aging Will Kane (Gary Cooper) and his younger Quaker wife  Amy Fowler (Grace Kelly).  Their marriage is a point of happiness and joy for the town, who are proud to see their martial who has served them with great zeal and dedication discovering his own happiness, even if it is with a woman of a somewhat unusual religion.  Yet, given the minutia of law rulings, Will's next marshall appointment will occur the following day, technically, leaving a gap of a day in which no law figure will be present within their New Mexican town.  Normally, the event would be irrelevant since the town is stable and well-behaved, but the announcement that a man Will convicted named Frank Miller (Ian MacDonald) has been pardoned and is returning to the town to exact his revenge changes his outlook and his initial promise to Amy to put down his badge immediately after their marriage.  Will initially leaves hoping that the town will be fine when Frank arrives and cannot find his nemesis, although, Will's paranoia and concern for reprimanding those who have done wrong leads to his belief that returning to the town is inevitable, despite Amy's many requests that he just put his past forever behind him and begin their life together.  When they return, it is discovered that Frank will arrive just before noon and with that news Amy tells Will that she will be leaving on the noon train herself, his decision to join is entirely his own.  Frank, who attempts to recruit the help of his former townsfolk to no success, knows that his standing up to Frank is of a higher purpose than anything else and will set in course, in Will's grand vision, the entire state of law in the nation for decades to come.  At first, Amy accepts his decision and leaves knowing that she can never pull the lawman from his past, yet when it is revealed that the entire town has bailed on Will, fearing for their lives, she returns as a form of emotional support, and eventually goes against her staunch religious beliefs to save her husband by firing a gun at one of Frank's posse.  Will wins out in the end, but not without some physical injuries, ultimately, throwing down his badge in disgust, understanding that he has sacrificed himself far too long for an ungrateful town.

I know that the closing moments of this film would suggest something against the sort of out and out idealism of jingoistic nationhood that would influence cold war era cinema, particularly in the fifties and sixties, where a constant fear of nuclear fallout or a "red" invasion factored into every action, leading to government breeches of privacy and culture as they deemed fit to correct any message that might remotely suggest a support for communism.  Of course, the unusual nature of High Noon is that it digs down to ask who is really sacrificing their lives and images in a war that is ostensibly non-combative.  While most American's during the era spouted their disdain for Russia and a support for democracy, and, subsequently, capitalism, few were willing to standup and take action, only yelling and judging those around them, hoping to catch them in any at that could be deemed un-American.  Extend this to what is perhaps America's most notorious case of censorship and othering in the McCarthy hearings and one can consider the value of law and justice, when it is used in a divisive and problematic way.  The overly zealous and profusely misguided Joseph McCarthy took it upon himself to clean house on Hollywood and the arts in general, picking off any individual who even remotely envisioned something that was not wholly democratic.  This did not fair well for Jewish-American's working in motion pictures, nor anyone who was from Europe.  Fred Zimmerman, who was born in Vienna clearly had a frustrating experience with this ordeal and felt the willingness of his colleagues to betray others in the name of their own safety to be a complete destruction of all notions of justice and honesty, and High Noon, particularly, the character of Will exist to celebrate those who were willing to sacrifice their careers and personal advancement to call attention to the stupidity and absurdity involved in the entire set of McCarthy hearings.  Beyond this, the film deals with the manner in which a paranoia of "invasion" led many to betray ideals of justice.  The threat of Frank and his gang is somewhat inconceivable, much like the Russian invasion, therefore, the visions of destruction were blown out of proportion causing each family to wall itself off from its neighbors and entrench themselves in the belief that anybody going against the status quo to be trouble.  The townsfolk see Will as trouble and, ultimately, betray him for their foolish attempts at safety.  High Noon paints a picture of the Cold War ideology, arguably without realizing it, and uses the western to do so, much like Casablanca it is a film whose traditional execution manages to transcend its cinematic space and speak to a zeitgeist, even if one that is not fond to reflect upon, which perhaps helps to explain its seminal place in the history of American cinema.

Key Scene:  Each cut to the empty train tracks is so heightened that when the train finally emerges in the shot it has a power almost equal to that of the Lumiere Brothers first use of a locomotive to challenge moviegoers assumptions about the possibilities of film.

Buy this now...on bluray of course.

We’ve Both Spent Our Lives Looking For The Weaknesses In One Another: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011)

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy was one of the films that I knew I had missed out on by not seeing it in theaters.  Fortunately, for me, the advances in home entertainment have allowed for theater like experiences to exist outside of actual theaters, and this, combined with a Redbox coupon allowed me to view the spy thriller in a setting that replicated the big screen.  The grandiosity of such a film is only helped by viewing it in an encompassing manner, particularly considering that the film is both incredibly cinematic and narratively dense.  Viewing the film is no passive activity and between the brilliant screen adaptation of the seventies miniseries and a veritable onslaught of Academy Award deserving performances, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is everything one could desire in a thriller.  It is becoming rarer and rarer to find a thriller that is not easily predictable or repetitive and despite knowing the plot to this film prior to engaging with it, I still found myself on the edge of my sofa wondering what would happen next and at what point each character would meet their demise.  The release of this film, along with The King’s Speech a year earlier is quickly restoring my faith in the presence of British filmmaking, something that for so long seemed to  be carried solely by Danny Boyle.  Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is a giant achievement in reminding moviegoers of how complex and magical a piece of cinema can be when executed correctly.

The plot for Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is a long, drawn out piece of narrative that is to be experience and would suffer from the slightest of spoilers.  However, I will attempt to give a cursory explanation as to the workings of the film in order to allow readers some semblance of what the workings of the film.  The narrative places those watching within the aftermath of a recent assassination of a British spy, one Jim Prideaux (Mark Strong) who was sent by a higher up with the intent of ratting out a Russian spy within their own forces.  His assassination is unexpected and the result of an overreaction by persons within the Russian infiltrate.  Realizing the emerging danger within such actions, British intelligence brings their best spy George Smiley (Gary Oldman) out of retirement in hopes of finding the rat within their organization.  Armed only with his wits and the help of a younger agent, Smiley delves into an investigation that leads him to the realization that every individual within British Intelligence is suspect to odd behavior, including himself.  Smiley quickly becomes a point of contempt by members of the agency and is watched as closely as those he is investigating.  Travelling between Britain, Hungary and France Smiley unfolds a trail of deceit and paranoia that also forces him to reflect on his own past, one that is full of loss, despair and disillusionment.  Ultimately, the film ends with an explosive climax of realizations on both national and personal scales fading out with what will perhaps prove to be the best use of Julio Iglesias music ever.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is an incredibly nostalgic film.  It would seem odd to call a spy film about the divisive effects of The Cold War to be such, but the signs are all there.  The characters exist in a world very similar to that of the television series Mad Men, when unspoken rules of etiquette and social mores outweighed individuals desires to prove a point or rise in the world.  This notion is only double when placed within a British society that highly values manners and formalities.  The characters in the film clearly exist to provoke viewers into reflecting on a past when spies could get drunk at parties and bureaucracy could be overturned simply by knowing the right individuals.  Despite reflecting fondly on the past, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is also fairly critical of the era, making note of the incredibly misogynist existence of the agency, manifested quite clearly in the dismissal of the suspicions of one female spy within the film.  Furthermore, the other women within the film are either relegated to the corners of the scenes or completely non-existant, as is the case with Smiley’s wife Ann, who never makes an appearance, despite the film existing in multiple time periods.  Furthermore, when characters engage in behaviors seen as socially unacceptable behavior they do so behind close doors, because their being spies only exacerbates their possibility for exploitation.  To some extent, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy plays out like an old school James Bond film in that it seems cool on a surface level, yet is clearly problematic when one looks at each of the pieces individually.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is profound.  It is well worth owning and in this case bluray is the only way to go.

Just Get Through The Goddamn Day: A Single Man (2009)

When a person approaches film narrative from a stream of conscious ideology, I often get concerned as delivering a coherent narrative is often difficult.  Of course there are exceptions to this concern, such as Gondry's Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind or Lynch's Lost Highway.  However, it is rare for a movie to deliver stream of conscious narrative in a manner that is both accessible and perfectly poetic.  A Single Man, the debut film for Gucci designer Tom Ford, is a case where poetics and approachability combine  magically and in what could prove to be one of the most overlooked masterpieces of the past decade.  Obviously inspired by the successes of Mad Men, A Single Man focuses on the life of a professor in 1960's America at the height of Cold War fears.  Furthermore, it uses a set of respected actors who neither possess superstar images nor overact for the sake of assumed Oscar nominations.  Tom Ford's period pieces is all about subtlety and this helps the surreal nature of the film exponentially.  To add to my already exuding adoration for this film, I will state that it is precisely how a film should perform character study, by focusing on the character in a very singular and internal sense.


A Simple Man follows the course of events over a single day for the aging British professor George Falconer (Colin Firth) who is reeling from the recent loss of his partner Jim (Matthew Goode).  His loss is quite internal given the staunch conservatism which exists, even in the relatively liberal Los Angeles college community of which George teaches.  Given his depression, which has resulted from inner turmoil, George has vowed to commit suicide at the end of November 30th.  He plans to simply make it through the day and off himself with a gun, leaving everything that represented his life sitting out in his kitchen.  George begins to deal with his plan rather stoically until the world around him begins to interfere.  This begins with the inquiries of a young Jewish student about anti-semitism that leads George on a brilliant diatribe about the illogical nature of fear. After the deeply philosophical speech, George heads to his office to clean out his desk and down a fifth of whiskey.    This speech inspires a young student named Kenny (Nicholas Hoult) to approach George after class and discuss his own beliefs, as well as his past drug use.  Before parting Kenny purchases George a yellow pencil sharper as a gift for escorting him across the campus, it is quite apparent at this point that George desires Kenny.  However, realizing his purpose George leaves and stops by a liquor store to purchase gin for his former lover Charlie (Julianne Moore) of whom he was intimate with, prior to his coming out.  Upon leaving the liquor store George bumps into a young Spanish man dropping the bottle of gin and breaking it.   This accident leads to a discussion with the man named Carlos (Jon Kortajanera) who states that George is in dire need for someone to like him.  Shrugging this off indifferently, George heads home in an attempt to kill himself.  However, he finds himself unsuccessful at shooting himself and after receiving a call from Charlie decides to head to her house for a few drinks.  After dinner and a pass on the part of Charlie for sex, George leaves and heads to a bar, which him and Jim frequented.  There, by chance, he meets Kenny  again and after a drink they decide to go swimming.  During their swim at the beach George is knocked unconscious, at which point the two decide to return to George's house.  While finding a bandaid, for George,, Kenny discovers a  naked picture of Jim and proceeds to distance himself from George for the remainder of the night.  When George awakes a few hours later, he discovers Kenny lying on his sofa holding George's gun as a form of defense against his advances.  Realizing that Kenny had no desire for him, George enters his room with a new level of serenity, unfortunately, his decision to be happy is quickly followed by deathly heart attack that leaves George on the floor, which fulfilled his original plan for the day.

The film is quite impressive for its approach to a quite overlooked narrative in America prior to the 1970's, this of course being the experiences of homosexuals in the United States.  While Mad Men has dealt with this to some extent, they have never made it a matter to focus heavily on the alternative world of gay underground, let alone as a sole narrative.  Prior to a film like this, the commentary of gay life prior to Stonewall reserved for documentary filmmaking and narrative distanced from film.  I would imagine one of the biggest factors in changing this in cinema was the critical acclaim received by Brokeback Mountain.  IT is great to see a gay narrative emerge in film and even more so that it was provided with a respectable budget.  In years prior gay filmmaking was reserved to the avant-garde and experimental realms with filmmakers like Kenneth Anger and Su Friedrich leading the way.  A Single Man represents a complete change to voices about the past, as well as voices present in contemporary filmmaking.  I am glad to see films like this being made for a variety of reasons and hope the change continues, but if films like Beginners have anything to do with it, the trend is only beginning.  Sorry the criticism is not heavy in theory, but this is such an experiential film that explanation is somewhat arbitrary.

Watch this movie immediately, somehow it fell under my radar in 2009 and for that, I feel terrible.  Make sure you get a copy and share it with your friends; it is truly a visual manifesto.

I Am No Cog; I Don't Even Like The Sound Of It: The 5,000 Fingers Of Dr. T (1953)

I am always surprised by some of the hidden film gems I have come across.  I recently picked up a rather impressive Stanley Kramer box set mostly for its inclusion of Guess Who's Coming to Dinner and The Wild Ones, only to discover that one of the films included was a little know musical entitled The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T.  I assumed it to be a run of the mill children's musical until I read the synopsis and realized that this film's script was the only one written by the great children's author Dr. Seuss.  Intrigue got the best of me and I decided to give this movie a whirl in my dvd player.  The awe came almost instantly, between the sweeping dance numbers, wacky Seuss inspired lexicon and the generally humorous plot everything about The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T is enjoyable and well worth the time I spent watching the film.  It is a film that manages to study single parenthood with great fervor, while not losing its self in a sort of preachy self-awareness.  While many of the musical numbers are dubbed over and more than a few of the acting moments are dull, it is hard to hate on this film.  I would be much more inclined to include it in the realm of  Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory or Mary Poppins as a fantastical technicolor musical that is both family friendly and incredibly watchable.  It is truly a shame not more is made of how excellent this film is in relation to its contemporaries.

Like anything involving Dr. Seuss one should expect crazy rhyming schemes and elaborate plot twists, but they should also expect simple, yet fully realized characters that interact seamlessly with their unconventional environment.  The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T certainly adheres to this notion by placing much of the film within a dream sequence.  The films opening shows a young boy, donning a baseball cap with a large yellow hand running wildly from what appear to be some sort of net wielding child catchers only to wake up from his nightmare to see a large piano.  This child Bart Collins (Tommy Rettig) has dozed off at yet another one of his piano lessons with the insolent Dr. Terwiliker (Hans Conreid) who is more concerned with keeping his prestigious image as a renowned piano tutor than befriending the young Bart.  Despite pleading with both his mother Helois (Mary Healy) and the local plumber August Zabladowski (Peter Lind Hayes), affectionately known as Mr. Z, Bart is told that he must continue his training for a few more hours.  With a great deal of disdain Bart accepts his mothers demands and continues to play his piano, only to fall into another dream.  This time the dream is much more elaborate and relevant to Bart's previous conversations.  Bart is informed that he is trapped at the Terwiliker Institute for Boy's Piano, in which he will be held indefinitely pending an upcoming performance with 499 other boys, thus creating the 5,000 fingers mentioned in the movies title.  Finding no amusement in this realization, Bart sets out to find his mother, but is upset upon discovering that Dr. T has seduced her and caused her to act only in the interests of the institute.  Her duty to Dr. T is so severe that she has trouble even recognizing her own son.  Failing to win his own mother over, Bart pleas with Mr. Z, who, within Bart's dream, has been employed by Dr. T to build sinks for his institute at the rate of two thousand pastoolas a day.  Bart, with much effort, helps Mr. Z realize that Dr. T is simply taken advantage of his poverty and recruits him to help destroy the institute and Dr. T in the process.  After a series of dance and song numbers, including the nightmarishly dark "Elevator Song" Bart and Mr. Z are able to escape the evil clutches of Dr. T and, along with the other boys, make a complete mockery of Dr. T's conservatory thus ending his career.  Elated Bart awakes to his mom as well as Mr. Z talking.  Mentioning his dream, which included Mr. Z referring to Bart as his son, both Heloise and Mr. Z share a glance, which implies that they had not considered each other as romantic interests, but were only realizing the possibilities at the recent suggestion of Bart's dream.  Such an on the nose ending makes the film as much a work of Dr. Seuss as it is of Dr. Freud.

Another element of the work of Dr. Seuss is his incredibly astute social observations.  His books often carried heavy messages of the problems of conformity, prejudice and environmental abuse.  The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T is certainly no different.  This film is absolutely about approaching the issues faced by a non-traditional family during the height of the nuclear family in the United States.  It is apparent that Bart's quest to destroy Dr. T is equal parts loathing for the piano as it is finding a place in an unreceptive world.  In a rather somber moment, Bart sings a song about the woes of being a child, because adults automatically assume him to be irrational and irrelevant.  This has real world relevance to Bart, given that nobody listens to his desires to pursue other hobbies such as fishing over being a pianist.  Dr. T ignores him in favor of his image, his mother ignores him because she is simply to exhausted from maintaining her domestic image and Mr. Z chooses not to side with Bart because as a plumber he has little if any social power and mobility.  What the film provides, via the Seuss script, is a study of the illogical performativity of Cold War America as seen through a child, right down to gender and class issues that place an aging and virulent piano teacher above an honest and respectable plumber.  The film also approaches the problem of widowhood in 1950's America.  It is subtle, but obvious that both Bart and his mom are pariahs given that no specific details about Bart's father are provided.  The only person who seems to accept the family is Mr. Z and it is not until Bart makes it apparent that he approves of Mr. Z's affections for his mom that it is alright and even then it is assumed only permissible within the confines of the Collins household.  The observations are copious, yet well placed and it is perhaps a prime example of Cold War cinema, if not, it is certainly the most overlooked.

I highly recommend checking this film out; it was slammed upon initial release, but has accrued a large cult following over the years.  If you decide to buy a copy I would suggest going with the Stanley Kramer Collection, because it comes with a bunch of other excellent titles, with this one being its shining star.