And We Won't Come Back Till It's Over Over There: Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942)

I remember way back in the days of high school I though it a worthy idea to take a web design class.  The high school I went to at the time was far from exceptional and certainly lacked all the resources to actively and properly teach a class, especially since our professor insisted on the use of Geocities as a web server.  While I did not learn anything worth value in relation to the art of html or designing of websites, we were fortunate to be provided with an assignment where we created a website for an actor or actress that had won an Academy Award, the only stipulation being that they could no longer be alive, thus limiting, rather considerably, who I could choose.  When I was told that my choice of John Wayne would not suffice since he had only received an honorary Academy Award I decided, instead; to go with James Cagney.  Knowing nothing of the man, I preceded to discover that not only was he an icon of the gangster picture of the thirties, but that he also happened to be in Yankee Doodle Dandy, a performance that netted him a deserved Oscar.  This all happened well before I got into film, indeed, I think at that point I probably only cared about Lord of the Rings and could not be bothered to even acknowledge a world where other cinema might exist.  Yet, in the back of my mind I had always had this curiosity about Yankee Doodle Dandy, looking at the stills from the film and hearing brief soundbites of the actor delivering lines.  I have since then sought out the the film but never had the right moment to engage with it in any real way.  This month of musicals, however, is such an occasion and it was a frontrunner for inclusion.  Thankfully so, because Yankee Doodle Dandy within all of its grandstanding, jingoistic patriotism is something extraordinary, it is the forties musical at its most realized and absolutely fitting as a World War II propaganda piece that also doubles as an exceptional film.  It is baffling to think that Michael Curtiz released this film in the same year as Casablanca.  Other directors would work through their entire career just to obtain the success of one of these singular works.  For Curtiz it was a matter of multiple occurrences in the same year.  However, what is exceptionally phenomenal about Yankee Doodle Dandy, is not the work of Curtiz, although it helps, it is wholly the magic that the unlikeliest of performers brings to stage, the incomparable James Cagney.

Yankee Doodle Dandy focuses on the life of George M. Cohan (James Cagney) prolific songwriter and performer, known for his patriotic tunes "Over There" and "Yankee Doodle Dandy," although it sets the narrative up within the context of the elderly Cohan meeting with Franklin D. Roosevelt (Jack Young) whom Cohan has recently played in a musical.  Inquiring as to his thoughts on performing, Cohan begins to unfold his entire life story for the president, looking back on his time in vaudeville shows with his father, mother and sister, wherein he made a huge break taking on the role of Peck's bad boy, landing him in the curious eyes of agents and showman hoping to exploit his talent for huge financial gain.  In a wave of precociousness, a young Cohan is able to negotiate highly for his family, so much so that they can live comfortably well into Cohan's late twenties when the performer takes a shift towards songwriting specifically.  The Irish-American Cohan finding great joy in creating songs about the power and strength of America, making a name for himself in his rousing performances of revues that included songs like "Yankee Doodle Dandy."  Yet, Cohan seemingly always aware of the expectations of both audiences and critics strives to achieve the best possible in each scenario, answering the demands by critics that he branch away from his singular use of flag waving, or showy dance numbers.  Through trials and tribulations, Cohan manages to find his niche, always bring delight to audiences, even stepping in to serve as a figure of morale to troops during World War I when he is informed his age is a severe limitation to his being able to join the service.  Of course, age does catch up with Cohan, as does it with the rest of his family, both his mother and father stepping down from their jobs as performer to retire.  As they do so, Cohan comes to realize that the world around him is moving into a world of moving pictures and popular music, his show tune days becoming as aged as his body.  Yet, the spirit of resilience remains strong with Cohan, thus affording him a part in a play about Roosevelt.  In this moment the narrative returns to Cohan's discussion with the president, wherein Roosevelt rewards Cohan with a medal thanking him for his service to the country.  The elated Cohan dances down the stairs out into the streets, where marching soldiers are sing his tune, Cohan joining in the procession with tears in his eyes.

Jingoistic as Yankee Doodle Dandy may be, it is quite difficult to find a film with more inherent heart and good feeling within its structure.  Sure the film exists in a time when racial identity and gender oppression were troublesome, yet unlike the earlier reviewed Show Boat, Yankee Doodle Dandy does not purport to make these elements part of their narrative only to turn around and destroy them for the sake of white privilege.  The narrative of Yankee Doodle Dandy is a biopic first, afforded its musical status almost entirely as a result of its subject matter.  Music here works in a very literal sense, as they serve as depictions of moments from Cohan's life, as opposed to non-diegetic intrusions into the diegetic world of cinema that become things with which characters react.  Yankee Doodle Dandy, despite also being propaganda, also manages to tackle some issues of who is allowed to appropriate the American identity, particularly in a time when such actions took up layered implications.  Cahon's Irishness within the film, while not wholly acknowledged, is integral to the text, his attempts to break into the larger revue field, requires that he and his sister perform a song about Irish individuals, wherein, Cohan delivers his lines with a severe accent, almost knowing performing this element to mock the listening agents.  It makes within its narrative quite clear that the American mentality during World War II, even with something as seemingly inconsequential as music served as a state of heighten defensiveness, almost to the point of being confrontational.  Hell, one only needs to read the lyrics to "Over There" to discover how exceptionally flag-waving and idealistic films of the era proved to be.  It also works on layers, however, by showing Cohan interacting with a younger audience that to properly exert propaganda must require working within the space of the old ideas of entertainment (Cohan and his music) and new experiences within culture (the kids speaking adoringly of movies).  In many ways this is what Yankee Doodle Dandy does so brilliantly, it manages to be a culture exploration of patriotism and pride that works for a generation living with film and one who is decidedly confused by its operations.

Key Scene:  "He's a yankee doodle dandy...."

Buy this film.  It is an important backbone in the narrative of American cinema.

For Your Awareness: Mother (1926)

For this month of women in film, I decided to dig pretty deep into the film canon and find some rather obscure gems, not to mention a film that is directly tied to some research I am currently doing for a class, it is the veritable two birds with one stone way of executing things on this blog when possible.  As such, I decided to go with the 1926 Soviet montage film Mother, which, much like its contemporaries, exists in a succinct and envisioned manner that pops off the screen capturing viewers intrigue by its near surrealist use of juxtaposition and high level cinematic to draw in viewers.  In the fashion of so many films from the Soviet Union of this era, the narrative is very much centered in a Marxist state of mind, where in, the proletariat (working class) is living in insufferable conditions and attempts to make advances through revolutions, which are seemingly always suppressed by the powerful and emotionless bourgeois (upper class) who seem far more content on making profits and keeping within their ivory towers than concerning themselves with the suffering of the common man.   If the Soviets were making movies circa 2011 it would be a 99% vs 1% rhetoric, although the revolutionary zeal and artistic output that emerges in his context is far greater than anything which emerged in relation to a bunch of people occupying parks.  Of course, I did not necessarily pick Mother for this month in film, because of its relationship to Marxist politics, although oppression and finding voices against that is certainly something that has emerged in the previous blogs for the month, no, I picked this because I wanted to start mapping a trend I have witnessed, particularly in class fueled narratives of revolt, wherein mother is an image used in a sort of sacrificial exploitation manner, a fact, which is clear in Battleship Potemkin, as well as less obviously in a handful of other films of the era.  I draw upon this film not to critique it stylistically because it is a masterful piece of cinema that is as indicative of the Soviet montage as any of its contemporaries, but, instead; to ask why in a film so concerned with oppression that it makes no qualms about exploiting a female figure for its narrative benefit.

Mother focuses rather loosely on the Russian Revolution of 1905, primarily as it relates to a metallurgy plant set on gaining better wages for their families.  The Mother (Vera Baranovska) is broken down by her lack of food and ability to take care of her family, all of who are equally distraught, the worst of all being her drunkard of a husband who fails to do anything productive.  Yet when he is convinced to help with the revolution efforts he and his son become key figures in the fight, and it is when the father looses his life, that the mother attempts to protect her son from the inquiries of military officers.  Realizing that the mother is protecting secrets she is jailed for a length of time, during which the revolution escalades and her son becomes inextricably tied to the movement, upon release the mother and eventual son who receives his own jailing time, the two are now heavily invested in the movement.  During their final confrontation with their enemies, the son dies and the mother takes up arms as a very real symbol of loss and anger, only to be trampled in an intense scene moments later.  The mother makes for a powerful symbol of sacrifice and one that is from a propaganda standpoint flawless.  Yet, one must remember that as a woman this cause does not allow her to move outside of the domestic space, nor does it afford her any sort of right to correct, say an alcoholic husband, yet her image as a signifier of sacrifice is embraced and pushed to the revolutionary forefront.  One only needs to consider that Russia is often referred to, at least in this era, as the "motherland," yet, mothers, as this film, shows, likely without intention, are the most relegated and othered group within Soviet Russia and their involvement within the revolution was quite exploitative, at once a thing of symbolic empowerment, as well as something to be ignored in the face of the masculine drives of war.

This is, as I already noted not a critique, but simply a consideration.  The mother is a key figure in culture, and in the example of propaganda they exist as a point of problematic exploitation.  I still highly recommend viewing Mother because it is a thing of cinematic perfection, although getting ahold of a quality copy might be a bit expensive.

Your Mothers Were Slimy Rats! Their Milk Was Sour!: Hangmen Also Die! (1943)

I am currently enrolled in a Contemporary Women's Playwrights course for which I am finding myself completely enthralled with the complex, masterful and exceptional plays which are being discussed, however, I am not a theater student and am instead taking it as an extension of my gender studies certificate.  As such, when the fellow students reference terms like "Brechtian" I find myself completely lost as to what precisely they mean and have been seeking to better understand.  I thought that by watching Hangmen Also Die!, a play whose script was written by Bertolt Brecht that I would come to better understand exactly the nature of such a style included.  Sadly I am no closer to understanding the deeply philosophical roots of all things Brechtian, however, what I did receive was a rather excellent viewing experience from one of my personal favorites Fritz Lang.  Admittedly, Hangmen Also Die! was a bit slow to start and I found my interests waning a bit instantly labeling it as yet another propaganda heavy war film from an exceptionally good time in Hollywood Cinema, but then something happened and the film found a second, perhaps even third, wind and became an extremely watchable highly cinematic study in human frailty, the notion of good and evil and deception in the name of a larger good.  A chiaroscuro revelation that could only come from the magnificent eyes of the Austrian Expressionist auteur, Hangmen Also Die!, like so many of the rarefied Kino Films releases stands to be obtained and watched, repeatedly if possible, but also suffers from a degree of obscurity that makes the prints available less then stellar, in fact, this particular print is considerably grainy and the sound often drops mid sentence for many characters, nonetheless, it becomes so stylistically impressive that all concern for its damaged nature disappear in the face of cinema at its finest, and a film that I initially chided for its choice of American actors playing gestapo officers, became something with a hugely complex and absolutely enthralling war film with just the right touch of noir madness.

Hangmen Also Die! exist within wartime Chzechoslovakia, which the name alone tells one was a time prior to two World Wars, and in this particular case a moment in which Germany occupied the nation, leaving its citizens uncomfortably within the rule of a cruel fascist hand.  One Czech patriot named Dr. Svoboda (Brian Donlevy) takes it upon himself to kill a German officer who has earned the infamous reputation of being the "hangman of Europe" for his willingness to murder all those not within the strict ideal of Aryan identification.  This act of course makes him criminal number one within the country leading to an all out assault by the Nazi occupants to seek revenge.  Fortunately for Svoboda, an elderly history professor named Stephen Novotny (Walter Brennan) and his daughter Mascha (Anna Lee) agree to help him and in the process also become intertwined within the gaze of the Nazi's.  Realizing that their best means to get the citizens to talk is to take hostages and begin killing civilians until they agree to speak against their neighbors, an action that proves relatively unsuccessful, even as men from the towns are gunned down by frustrated gestapo.  In fact, one member of the community a garrulous, rotund brewer named Emil Czaka (Gene Lockhart) sees the entire thing as a means to assure his well-being and safety within the ever growing power of Nazism and sells out his town for riches and protection.  When word is spread about Czaka's terrible decision a plan hatches to use his as a red herring, thus affording Novotny to go free, as well as to lift the eyes from Svoboda who is growing more conspicuous every day.  While the group is eventually able to convince the Nazi's that Czaka was responsible for the actions, through some clever deviations and redirected truths, it does not negate the deaths of so many via assassination, and while the film ends on a decidedly high note, it, nonetheless, reminds viewers of the losses within the film, which, no doubt, reflected very real loss at the time.

While I will fully admit that this film helped me little in better understanding the intricacies of Brechtian ideology as it relates to cinema specifically, I was quite enthralled by its genuine commitment to the concept of the group collective challenging the forces of evil.  It is out and out a film of World War II, in where the Allies make fools of the Axis, in this case going so far as to appropriate a country very close to Germany as an image of America, right down to its take no bullshit attitude and overemphasis on romanticism.  Of course, this appears to be a critique, but I am more than aware that it is a result of the culture and very much influenced by the propaganda of the era.  What Hangmen Also Die! ask viewers to do is to follow it as a group of individuals make a on-the-fly plan work in their favor, taking odds completely out of the picture, especially considering that so much of the success of their actions is predicated on their good fortune.  This is clearly evident in the luck Mascha has when obtaining Czaka's coveted golden lighter as a tool to frame him in their indictment, or when Svoboda is saved in the nick of time from almost certain death by, none other than Mascha's fiance, whom he had made a cuckold of only scenes earlier.  This sort of reliance on a larger good, helps events like these land, where petty wrongdoings like minor theft and pseudo-infidelity are diminished in the face of military style executions, and what would later be revealed to be large scale genocide.  While religion is certainly discussed throughout the film, it is not a central factor by any means, allowing for it to filmically exist within the context of expressionist noir, a genre very much associated with Lang's later films and while this will not prove to be anywhere near the film that Metropolis or Scarlett Street would be, it still whispers moments of brilliance, and could even be seen as being thematically within the same vein as his well-known masterpiece M.

Key Scene:  The stand-off in the hospital locker room is chiaroscuro perfection.

This, as so many of Kino's gems are, is an expensive DVD.  However, with a little patience one can obtain this as a rental from Netflix and it is more than worth pursuing, as it is a truly wonderful piece of lesser known film.

For a Spoonful of Bortsch: The Battleship Potemkin (1925)

Propaganda can be a good thing.  Casablanca is the shining example of this.  However, other countries also pushed propaganda through the medium of film, and Sergei Eisenstein was one such example.  Eisenstein's 1925 silent film The Battleship Potemkin doubles as propaganda and unfiltered artistic imagery.  The film is over the top, but such is expected of a silent film that uses theater actors as its source for characters.  Regardless of this it is enjoyable, well executed and at times awe-inspiring.

The film focuses on the revolutionary efforts of  a group of beleaguered sailors who have been subjugated to degrading living standards that range from cramped living spaces to being served rotten food.  Their lack of respect from higher-ups drives them to kill their superiors in a fit of revolution, which is shot with the same vigor and eye for intensity of the most contemporary action films.  The revolt results in the loss of their leader Vakulinchuk (Aleksandr Antonov) who is used to exalt the proletariat ideals, by serving as a martyred signifier for the effort.  In classic propagandistic fashion, the film not only focuses on the ideals of a group, but how they relate to an entire country.  As such, the film focuses on a revolt in Odessa, which involves images of unending peasants standing against militaristic oppression, using mothers and their children in sacrifice to the cause.  Ultimately, the members of the Potemkin and Odessa unite in a brotherhood of the working class desires as the film fades out into a Marxist driven future.

The film promotes classless ideals, but not genderless ones.  It promotes a notion that revolution is a masculine thing, despite involving blatant and literal sacrifices of women.  I have to accept that the film is set in 1925 ideology, yet I cannot dissuade the sexist rhetoric that ensues.  It serves as a serious reminder to how problematic even the most liberal of government plans can be.  It proves that even notions of classlessness do not by default ensure equality.

Sure, the film have problems and sure it is silent, but it is damn good and one of the best films ever made.  I recommend this as a must see film, as do so many scholars.  Not including a choice to add some color to some scenes, Kino Film has done a great job with the most recent restoration.