The National Film Registry Class of 1992: Baby Got Back

December 3rd, 1992: After receiving its first renewal the previous June, the National Film Registry is back with another 25 movies, reaching the important milestone of 100 movies! Having just finished watching the last of this group, it’s time for me to take a look back. Here again is the National Film Registry Class of 1992, along with my previous write-ups:

  • The Birth of a Nation (1915) (“[It’s] even worse than you think it is.” “totally indefensible.”)
  • Within Our Gates (1920) (“the earliest surviving film to be directed by an African-American”, “a powerful reminder of…what filmmaking from different voices can accomplish.”)
  • The Big Parade (1925) (“not the greatest movie ever made, but it is an undeniably important film”, “the silent film medium at the height of its artistry”)
  • The Gold Rush (1925) (“the first essential in Chaplin’s filmography, but his best work as an artist was still ahead of him.”)
  • Big Business (1929) (“[Laurel & Hardy] are hilarious throughout this short, but I miss hearing them speak.”)
  • Morocco (1930) (“Am I missing something with [von Sternberg]?”)
  • Footlight Parade (1933) (“too much backstage/not enough musical”)
  • The Bank Dick (1940) (“the most polished of [W.C. Fields’] inducted films”)
  • Double Indemnity (1944) (“filmdom’s quintessential film noir entry”)
  • Detour (1945) (“the best of the B [movies]”)
  • Letter from an Unknown Woman (1948) (“an enjoyable classic Hollywood melodrama and a fine representation of Max Ophuls.”)
  • Adam’s Rib (1949) (“the ‘two steps forward, one step back” of feminism in film, but Tracy and Hepburn’s natural chemistry help smooth over the rough patches.”)
  • Carmen Jones (1954) (“a testament to the career of Dorothy Dandridge.” “Preminger, you’ve done it again!”)
  • Salt of the Earth (1954) (“the only blacklisted movie in film history.”, “a message that still rings true…70 years later”)
  • The Night of the Hunter (1955) (“quite bizarre, but admittedly it’s that bizarreness that has helped it endure”)
  • Paths of Glory (1957) (“has ‘minor classic’ written all over it, but it’s fun to see where Stanley Kubrick got his ‘start’.”)
  • What’s Opera, Doc? (1957) (“one of the most revered and influential pieces of classic animation”)
  • Psycho (1960) (“a game changer for the thriller genre”, “I’ll be damned if this movie still can’t scare the crap out of me every time.”)
  • Dog Star Man (1961-1964) (“One hell of an experimental trip”, “a sort of cinematic Rorschach test.”)
  • Ride the High Country (1962) (“a well-made, character-driven western enhanced by [Sam Peckinpah’s] unique perspective.”)
  • Castro Street (1966) (“I could not get into [this movie], but it’s my own fault for not doing my homework.”)
  • Bonnie and Clyde (1967) (“helped define a new era of filmmaking, and is a no-brainer for NFR inclusion.”)
  • Salesman (1969) (“the subject matter is fascinating…but I just couldn’t get into this one.”)
  • Nashville (1975) (“a bit slow by today’s standards, [but] there are enough dynamic characters and performances to hold your interest.”)
  • Annie Hall (1977) (“a great film…[a]s difficult as it is for me to separate the art from the artist”)

Other notes

  • The big NFR news at the time was that in June 1992, the National Film Preservation Act got renewed by Congress for an additional four years, guaranteeing more movies being added to the Registry through 1996, bringing the total to an even 200 movies. Also noteworthy is that with this renewal, films added to the Registry are no longer required to have been shown in a theater, opening the door for more unconventional entries like “Dog Star Man” and “Castro Street” (and later on the Zapruder film). Reports on the renewal also claim it lifted its feature-length requirement, allowing shorts to be inducted, but that announcement contradicts such previous short entries as “Meshes of the Afternoon” and “Gertie the Dinosaur“.
  • My first takeaway from seeing this list again was, “Man this a good group”. Every movie on this list is either an untouchable classic or iconic enough to make the cut regardless of my opinion. You also get the beginnings of the NFR’s ongoing game of “Who isn’t on the list yet?” (Robert Altman! Marlene Dietrich! Bugs Bunny!). While not every movie on the list is one I feel should have cracked the top 100, each of them has a solid enough legacy to make their inclusion inevitable.
  • At the time of the Class of 1992 induction, future NFR entries “Malcolm X” and “Unforgiven” were playing in theaters. Also playing at the time that I have dogeared for eventual NFR induction: “Aladdin”, “The Bodyguard”, and “Reservoir Dogs”.
  • While we’re on the subject of 1992: I mean, of course “Annie Hall” should be on the list, but only a few months after the whole Soon-Yi thing? If you ask me, that was too soon…Yi.
  • Shoutout to Variety’s article about that year’s induction: “Diverse pix mix picked“. What does that even mean?
  • This year’s group of double-dippers is lower than in previous years (a trend that will continue as each year’s selection covers a longer timespan). For 1992, we have actors Shelley Duvall, Jeff Goldblum, and Adolphe Menjou, composer Miklos Rozsa, and title sequence designer Saul Bass.
  • Thematic double-dippers: ’40s film noir, tragic romances, World War I, films told entirely in flashbacks, Cross dressing, Depression era career pivots, opera music with new lyrics, bank robberies, mining for gold, thoroughly misguided patriotism, Christmas in Los Angeles, criminals trying to sell their cars, and Jeff Goldblum with minimal dialogue.
  • Favorites of my own subtitles: You’re in Good Hands with…Murder!, You Can Kill Me Al, Let’s Get Bizet, Rev! Run!, Oedipal Arrangements, Grumpy Gold Men, Brother Can You Spare a Crime?, Jesus Schlept, and What’s It All About, Alvy? Special shoutout to my alt “Double Indemnity” subtitle: Like a Good Murder, Stanwyck is There.
  • And of course, points to the NFR for inducting Oscar Micheaux’s “Within Our Gates” the same year as “Birth of a Nation”. The inclusion of “Birth of a Nation” on a list of significant American films was unavoidable, and I appreciate that this NFR roster permanently links it with a rebuttal by America’s most prominent Black director of the time. Librarian of Congress James Billington even pointed out in his Registry announcement that “Birth” is one of the films on the list that highlight “unpleasant or even reprehensible points of view.” Though to be fair he may have been referring to “What’s Opera, Doc?” and Elmer Fudd’s pro-wabbit kiwwing agenda.

Well that was fun. On to 1993! Stay safe, keep taking care of each other, and happy viewing!

Tony

#692) Ride the High Country (1962)

#692) Ride the High Country (1962)

OR “Grumpy Gold Men”

Directed by Sam Peckinpah

Written by N.B. Stone Jr. (with uncredited re-writes from Peckinpah and William Roberts)

Class of 1992

The Plot: At the turn-of-the-century in a much less wild west, aging lawman Steve Judd (Joel McCrea) is hired by a bank in Hornitos, California to transport gold from the mining camp Coarsegold in the Sierras (the high country, if you will). Aware of the trek’s potential hazards, Steve enlists the help of his former partner Gil Westrum (Randolph Scott), who in turn recruits his young assistant Heck Longtree (Ron Starr). What Steve doesn’t know is that Gil plans to double-cross him and take the gold for himself. En route, they meet Elsa Knudson (Mariette Hartley), who joins them on their travels to escape her oppressive father (R.G. Armstrong) and marry her fiancé Billy Hammond (James Drury), currently mining near Coarsegold. Once everyone arrives in Coarsegold, things do not go as expected in this rumination on morality in a changing world and only the second feature film from Sam Peckinpah.

Why It Matters: Unusually for an early NFR pick, there is no major superlatives in the film’s write-up. Instead we get a detailed plot synopsis, and reference to the film’s “poignant finale.” An essay by Peckinpah expert Stephen Prince is much more praising, highlighting the film’s uniqueness among Peckinpah’s later filmography.

But Does It Really?: I liked, but didn’t love, “Ride the High Country”. Admittedly my issues with the movie were my own genre bias, as well as a few other factors we’ll get to, but overall, it’s a well-made, character-driven western enhanced by a young director’s unique perspective. While I don’t object to the film’s NFR induction, I do question how it got on the list in only the fourth year. If you want Sam Peckinpah on the list, why not “The Wild Bunch”? If you want older actors revisiting their western days, why not “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance” or “Rio Bravo”? I’ll designate “Ride the High Country” as Peckinpah’s steppingstone film; the movie that was successful enough to get him the creative freedom that would lead to his better-known work. “Ride the High Country” is worthy of NFR preservation, but at the very least it should have switched places with “The Wild Bunch”, which had to wait another seven years before finally making the cut.

Everybody Gets One: Upon arriving in Los Angeles in 1927, Randolph Scott started out in the movies as a bit player and very quickly worked his way up to leading man status. Although he acted in a variety of genres, Scott’s domain was the Western: first in the 1930s in a series of movies based on the work of Zane Gray, and in the ’40s onwards as various lawmen trying to tame the west (I suspect this is the reason he is so revered in “Blazing Saddles“). Initially cast as the more law-abiding Steve Judd in “Ride the High Country”, Scott agreed to switch roles with Joel McCrea to play against type. Scott also successfully secured top billing over McCrea by winning a coin toss while the two were at lunch with Sam Peckinpah.

Title Track: N.B. Stone Jr.’s original screenplay went by the name “Guns in the Afternoon”. Among the numerous improvements Sam Peckinpah made in his re-write was the title “Ride the High Country”, an apt allegory for Steve’s morality. Composer George Bassman co-wrote a title song with lyricist Ken Darby that doesn’t appear in the film but was released as a single.

Seriously, Oscars?: No Oscar nominations for “Ride the High Country”, although the BAFTAs nominated Mariette Hartley for Most Promising Newcomer to Leading Film Roles. The only non-Brit in a category with Terrence Stamp and Sarah Miles, Hartley lost to Tom Courtenay for “The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner”. Home court advantage, I guess.

Other notes

  • By the early 1960s, screenwriter N.B. Stone Jr. had fallen on hard times but had a screenplay he had written years earlier about two older men in the west that he wanted to see produced. His friend, fellow screenwriter William Roberts, gave the script to producer Richard Lyons, who declared it “awful” but liked its general concept. William Roberts did a full re-write but chose to remain uncredited out of respect for Stone (this is one of two westerns on the NFR that Roberts substantially re-wrote). Once Sam Peckinpah signed on as director, he exercised his contractual obligation for another re-write (a right he insisted on after losing creative control of his first film “The Deadly Companions”). Peckinpah spent four weeks re-writing most of the dialogue, infusing the character of Steve with many of the traits he admired from his own father, David. In addition, Peckinpah gave the film its new title, and made a major alteration to the film’s ending (more on that later).
  • Admittedly, the timing of my “High Country” viewing didn’t help my overall enjoyment. I watched this shortly after watching “Bad Day at Black Rock“, another MGM-Cinemascope movie with aging movie stars demonstrating their sustained virility against a Sierra Nevada backdrop. While still very different movies, there’s enough shared DNA that gave “High Country” a feeling of sameness to “Bad Day”, which is no one’s fault by my own.
  • In the 20 years since we last saw him in “Sullivan’s Travels“, Joel McCrea worked almost exclusively in Westerns, and was equally famous for turning down work to spend more time on his ranch (he considered himself a rancher who acted as a hobby). I’m glad McCrea signed on for “High Country”, because the straight-forward Steve fits him like a glove (though the idea of him initially playing Gil is intriguing; potentially a Henry Fonda “Once Upon a Time in the West“-style subversion).
  • Even in his later years, McCrea continues to look like William Holden dubbed by Gary Cooper. He’s also still very tall, which is tough in a widescreen movie when he shares a shot with significantly shorter actors. Things improve when he’s paired with the equally tall Randolph Scott, and once they hit the Sierras everyone else can stand on a higher elevation level to match them.
  • This is Mariette Hartley’s film debut (she even gets the “Introducing” credit in the opening). It’s a capable performance where she more than holds her own against her two established leads. And although Mariette Hartley’s film career never really took off, you can see her star quality that would make you believe that career path was possible. Elsa’s presence in the movie reminds me of McCrea’s great line in “Sullivan’s Travels”: “There’s always a girl in the picture. What’s the matter, don’t you go to the movies?”
  • One line that made me laugh out loud comes from Gil, after watching Steve and Mr. Knudson tensely exchange Bible verses over dinner: “You cook a lovely ham hock, Ms. Knudson, just lovely. Appetite, Chapter One.”
  • Ugh, I don’t need to see Joel McCrea or Randolph Scott in long johns! Make it stop!
  • No offense to Ron Starr, who as of this writing is still with us, but he is not great in this. Starr’s acting career petered out within a decade of “High Country”, and hopefully he moved on to better things in another venue. Thankfully, his car navigation and safety systems seem to be much more effective.
  • Another issue with this movie that is also my fault: I have no history with either McCrea or Scott. Aside from “Sullivan’s Travels”, I’ve never seen either of them in anything else, unlike someone my age in 1962, who would have watched their careers happen in real time and understand their history with westerns that’s baked into the film’s subtext. The closest thing I can equate this to is watching De Niro and Pacino all my life and then watching them revisit the gangster genre in “The Irishman”.
  • Once everyone arrives in Coarsegold, I got massive flashbacks to my grade school field trip to Columbia, California, which is partially preserved in its gold rush aesthetic. Good times.
  • Gah! Enough close-ups of the Hammond brothers! They’re all so off-putting. Side note: Henry Hammond is played by Warren Oates, aka GTO from “Two-Lane Blacktop“. If Henry is the kind of underdeveloped character Oates played in every Western, I see how the critics took notice of his work in “Two-Lane”.
  • In one of my least favorite recurring themes on this blog, the whole Elsa & Billy wedding sequence is uncomfortable (though admittedly that’s the point). It leads to another round of unpleasant close-ups of the guests, particularly the Hammond brothers as they creepily leer at their new sister-in-law. All right cinematographer Lucien Ballard, you’ve lost your close-up privileges. Give me your keys.
  • The last third of the movie takes its time, but we get some solid morality debates between Steve and Gil, the kind of gray area that started to crop up more and more in westerns. This all leads to the final showdown, which made me appropriately tense as I waited to see how it would all end.
  • [Spoilers] In the original N.B. Stone draft, Gil was killed during the climactic shootout as an act of sacrificial redemption, but Peckinpah switched it so that Steve is killed, and Gil redeems himself by taking the gold to the bank. It’s a real downer of an ending, but also a surprising and more complex one. Even though I wasn’t fully engaged with the movie by then, I was genuinely saddened to see Joel McCrea slowly slink to the ground as the credits roll.
  • I think the moral of this movie is don’t trust anyone under 50.

Legacy

  • Although “Ride the High Country” tested well, MGM didn’t have faith in its box office potential and put it on the bottom half a double bill: first with the Italian swords-and-sandal epic “The Tartars”, and later with the sex comedy “Boys Night Out”. Reviews were mostly positive, with the film making it on a few year-end top ten lists (Newsweek even declared it the best film of 1962). This critical praise, aided by news that audiences preferred “High Country” over the top half of the bill, convinced MGM to re-release the film as a standalone feature in early 1963.
  • After “Ride the High Country”, Randolph Scott felt he couldn’t top his performance and, after years of shrewd investments, retired from acting. Joel McCrea went back to his ranch after “High Country” but was occasionally talked out of his semi-retirement for a few more westerns before hanging it up for good in 1976.
  • Although Mariette Hartley has a few more notable films on her resume (“Marnie”, “Marooned”, “Encino Man”), her best work was in television. Hartley has spent over six decades on various TV projects, including a run in the late ’70s/early ’80s where she got six Emmy nominations in five years (winning for a guest spot on “The Incredible Hulk”). And for the last time: No, she is not James Garner’s wife! 
  • Sam Peckinpah’s next film was 1965’s “Major Dundee” starring Charlton Heston, who hired Peckinpah based on his work in “High Country” (Side note: Heston also tried to remake “High Country” in the late ’80s starring him and Clint Eastwood, but nothing came of it). Although the production of “Dundee” was a disaster (not helped by Peckinpah’s chronic alcoholism), Peckinpah bounced back with his next and most famous film: “The Wild Bunch”.

The National Recording Registry Class of 2024!

This photo is from Billboard’s article about the Registry inductees.

It’s mid-April: the weather is less depressing, you’ve filed your taxes (if that’s your thing), and the Library of Congress has inducted 25 new recordings into the National Recording Registry! Here is the Class of 2024 in chronological order:

  • “Clarinet Marmalade” – Lt. James Reese Europe’s 369th U.S. Infantry Band (1919)
  • “Kauhavan Polkka” – Viola Turpeinen and John Rosendahl (1928)
  • Wisconsin Folksong Collection (1937-1946)
  • “Rose Room” – Benny Goodman Sextet with Charlie Christian (1939)
  • “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” – Gene Autry (1949)
  • “Tennessee Waltz” – Patti Page (1950)
  • “Rocket ‘88’” – Jackie Brenston and His Delta Cats (1951) 
  • “Catch a Falling Star” / ”Magic Moments” – Perry Como (1957)
  • “Chances Are” – Johnny Mathis (1957) 
  • “The Sidewinder” – Lee Morgan (1964)
  • “Surrealistic Pillow” – Jefferson Airplane (1967)
  • “Ain’t No Sunshine” – Bill Withers (1971)
  • “This is a Recording” – Lily Tomlin (1971)
  • “J.D. Crowe & the New South” – J.D. Crowe & the New South (1975)
  • “Arrival” – ABBA (1976)
  • “El Cantante” – Héctor Lavoe (1978)
  • “The Cars” – The Cars (1978) 
  • “Parallel Lines” – Blondie (1978)
  • “La-Di-Da-Di” – Doug E. Fresh and Slick Rick (MC Ricky D) (1985)
  • “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” – Bobby McFerrin (1988)
  • “Amor Eterno” – Juan Gabriel (1990)
  • “Pieces of Africa” – Kronos Quartet (1992)
  • “Dookie” – Green Day (1994)
  • “Ready to Die” – The Notorious B.I.G. (1994)
  • “Wide Open Spaces” – The Chicks (1998)

Other notes

  • First off, the NRR made a playlist with this year’s inductees available wherever you listen to music.
  • As is typical with each year’s NRR inductees, I recognize about half of the recordings and artists on this list, and I will take the NRR’s word that the other half is also historically significant. These 25 are a good eclectic mix and bring the NRR’s total to a respectable 650. If I had focused my blog on this Registry rather than the other one, I’d be done by now.
  • To the best of my knowledge, 24 of the 25 recordings are musical in nature. With get the comedy album “This Is a Recording”, but no radio programs or news coverage. Better luck next year, National Public Radio.
  • Shoutouts to Jefferson Airplane and Gene Autrey, both making their NRR debuts after I have written posts pointing out their conspicuous absences. Bonus shoutout to Jefferson Airplane, whose song “Somebody to Love” I recently mentioned in my “Apollo 13” post. Along with the induction of CCR’s “Fortune Son” in 2013, the NRR now has two songs that serve as movie shorthand for “turbulent ’60s”. All they need is Jimi Hendrix’s cover of “All Along the Watchtower” for the hat trick.
  • Thanks to this list, my current earworm is Bill Withers’ “Ain’t No Sunshine”, but just the part where he sings “I know I know I know I know I know” about 187 times.
  • I really should listen to Lily Tomlin’s comedy albums one of these days. Speaking of, along with Debbie Harry, Benny Goodman, and the aforementioned Gene Autrey and Jefferson Airplane, Lily Tomlin is part of a growing group of artists whose work has been inducted to both of the Library of Congress’ national registries.
  • Interesting that The Chicks are credited here by their current name, even though in 1998 they were known as The Dixie Chicks. The NRR write-up mentions the name change in 2020 because…well it was 2020 and that’s what we were doing. Between this, tearing down racist statues, and closing Splash Mountain, we kept ourselves busy during lockdown.
  • Did you know that The Notorious B.I.G.’s real name was Christopher Wallace? I definitely did not.
  • Pop sensation ABBA is this year’s reminder that the NRR is more open to international recordings that have become part of American pop culture than their counterparts at the NFR. I am genuinely curious if the NFR will ever consider adding international films, and the massive floodgate that will open if they do.
  • And finally, you can nominate recordings for the National Recording Registry’s Class of 2025 right now! According to the NRR, a record-breaking 2899 recordings were nominated that year, so let your voice be heard. Nominations can be submitted at the Registry’s website, with a deadline this year of October 1st, 2024. They also have a list of artists not yet on the Registry. It needs an updating, but it’s a good starting point.

Happy Listening, stay safe, and…Oh for the love of – Who put Green Day on the list?

Tony

#4) The Gold Rush (1925)

#4) The Gold Rush (1925)

OR “Yukon Do It!”

Directed and Written by Charles Chaplin

Class of 1992

Note: For this post, I watched the 1942 “revival” of “The Gold Rush”, the version most readily available when the film made the NFR. This is also a revised and expanded version of my original “Gold Rush” post, which you can read here.

The Plot: Charlie Chaplin reprises his popular role of the Tramp, who this time is The Lone Prospector traveling through the Yukon during the Klondike Gold Rush of the late 1890s. When a blizzard hits, the Tramp ends up trapped in a cabin with wanted criminal Black Larsen (Tom Murray), as well as Big Jim (Mack Swain), another prospector whose gold parcel has been buried by the blizzard. The three wait out the storm for several days, reaching a point of starvation and near-cannibalism. After the storm subsides, the Tramp journeys to a nearby boom town, falling for local dance hall girl Georgia (Georgia Hale). But as with so much of Chaplin’s work, all of this is just backdrop for his trademark mix of inventive comedy and heartfelt drama.

Why It Matters: The NFR states that the film is “[o]ften considered one of Chaplin’s greatest” and gives a rundown of the movie’s iconic scenes and Oscar stats. An essay by film historians Darren R. Reid and Brett Sanders delves into the influence Chaplin’s childhood of poverty had on his films and is a semi-promotion for their documentary “Looking for Charlie”.

But Does It Really?: I’ve watched “The Gold Rush” several times over the years, and as much as I enjoy it, it’s a movie that I admire more than I love. In only his fourth feature, Chaplin raises the stakes with massive sets and special effects, but still manages to keep the film character driven and packed with some decent laughs. “Gold Rush” is the first essential in Chaplin’s filmography, but his best work as an artist was still ahead of him. Still, you can’t have a list of iconic American movies without Chaplin eating his shoe and dancing with bread rolls, so “Gold Rush” is an absolute must for the Registry.

Everybody Gets One: Georgia Hale was cast in “The Gold Rush” after Chaplin saw her performance in Josef von Sternberg’s “The Salvation Hunters” and needed to re-cast his leading lady (more on that later). Chaplin would go on to hire Hale as a replacement for Virginia Cherrill as the Blind Girl in “City Lights” but ended up re-hiring Cherrill and discarding Hale’s footage (though some of it survives and has been released as supplemental material). Hale’s filmography spanned only seven years and 16 films, a majority of which are now lost.

Seriously, Oscars?: Well, here’s an interesting one: Originally released in 1925, “The Gold Rush” was obviously ineligible for the Academy’s first ceremony four years later, but the film’s 1942 re-release with a brand new soundtrack was nominated in two categories: Sound Recording, and Scoring of a Dramatic or Comedy Picture. Continuing Chaplin’s complicated relationship with the Oscars, “Gold Rush” lost in both categories to, respectively, “Yankee Doodle Dandy” and “Now, Voyager“.

Other notes

  • In 1923, Chaplin’s first and only attempt at a straight-forward drama – “A Woman of Paris” – was not well received by his audience. Chaplin decided his next movie would be another comedy starring The Tramp, and inspiration for “The Gold Rush” came while he was reading about The Donner Party, the famous group of pioneers who got trapped in the Sierra Nevada and resorted to cannibalism for their survival. Not exactly “ha-ha” funny, but if anyone could successfully mine a dramatic scenario for humor, it was Chaplin.
  • Production on “The Gold Rush” began in February 1924 in Truckee, California. Although initially planning to film entirely on location, two weeks into shooting Chaplin moved the entire production to his studios in Hollywood, building a massive recreation of the Klondike (the opening establishing shot of the miners heading into the mountains is the sole on-location shot in the final film). That September, production was halted when Chaplin learned that Lita Grey (his on-screen leading lady and real-life lover) was pregnant. When filming resumed in December, Grey had been replaced by Georgia Hale, who Chaplin would also have an affair with during production. Filming was completed in April 1925, with the film being released that summer.
  • The 1942 version is dedicated to Alexander Woolcott “in appreciation of his praise of this picture.” I couldn’t find Woolcott’s specific review of “The Gold Rush”, but the New Yorker film critic and Algonquin Round Table mainstay was a big fan of Chaplin’s, calling his Tramp character “the finest gentleman of our time.” Woolcott died less than a year after “The Gold Rush” was re-released and dedicated to him.
  • While I have admitted previously that I prefer Buster Keaton over Chaplin, that doesn’t make Charlie any slouch by comparison. While Keaton always had funnier gags, Chaplin made the better, more nuanced movies. Chaplin was such a talented filmmaker it’s easy to overlook the skill and discipline on display in his movies. His timing both on-camera and behind-the-scenes is flawless, and always imbued with character. There’s a point where superlatives don’t do him justice and you just sit back and admire the work.
  • I get that this narration was recorded 17 years later, but Chaplin always sounds different that I think he will. So much more authoritative, so much more…British. I guess I’m thinking of what his Tramp persona sounds like in my head. Speaking of, I do love how Narrator Chaplin always refers to the Tramp as “the little fellow”. Very endearing.
  • In addition to a few edits made by Chaplin, the 1942 re-release runs roughly 50% faster than the original 1925 version. That’s because film stock used during the silent era was projected at 16 frames per second (fps), while sound film has a projection rate of 24 fps. A silent film run through a sound projector is therefore going to have that sped-up quality we associate with the silent era.
  • Iconic Moment 1 of 2: The shoe eating scene. Before the Donner party resorted to eating each other, they ate their own shoes to survive, and Chaplin took this detail and turned it into a meal (if you will). I love the detail of treating the laces like they’re strands of spaghetti. As best I can tell the shoe Chaplin eats was made of licorice.
  • At one point Big Jim, out of starvation, starts to envision the Tramp as a giant chicken. Is this where we get the “hungry person sees someone as food” trope?
  • I always forget how many live animals are in this: dogs, cats, a mule, a bear. Although once the bear enters the cabin it quickly switches from a real bear to a guy in a bear suit, which is still funny, and infinitely safer for everyone on set (except for maybe the guy sweating it out inside the bear suit).
  • At a budget of $923,000 (roughly $16 million today), “Gold Rush” was one of the most expensive silent films ever made, and you can see that money on the screen. In addition to the Klondike set reconstructions and all those animals, “Gold Rush” has some genuinely impressive special effects, particularly the process shots and model work being done during the avalanche sequence. 
  • Georgia is…also a character in this movie. She doesn’t have much to do, but when the director has a crush on you, you’re going to look great. Fun Fact: The other actress considered to replace Lita Grey was a young unknown named Carole Lombard. She would have been great, but she also would have been 16, so 24-year-old Georgia Hale is a good call for everybody.
  • The moments that made me laugh the hardest this viewing were any time sincere underscoring played during one of the Tramp’s pratfalls (getting knocked to the ground, getting pelted with a snowball, etc.) As always, ridiculous comedy is always funnier when played straight, and that goes for the music too.
  • Iconic Moment 2 of 2: When the Tramp fantasizes about hosting Georgia and her friends for New Year’s Eve, he entertains them with the Oceana Roll dance, utilizing two bread rolls with forks stuck in them as his dancing legs. It’s a bit Chaplin used to do at parties that made its way into “The Gold Rush”/film immortality. The story goes that at the film’s Berlin premiere, this scene was so well received by the audience, the projectionist immediately replayed it for an encore. And who says Germans don’t have a sense of humor?
  • While not as iconic as this movie’s other two big scenes, the cabin teetering over a cliff is another highlight. We get a surprisingly intense mixture of Chaplin’s flawless timing with more of those great special effects. The cherry on top for me is the Tramp thinking that the rocking cabin is just a side effect of his hangover, or in this movie’s parlance his “liver attack”.
  • Wait, that’s it? The original version ended with the Tramp and Georgia sharing a romantic kiss, but by 1942 Chaplin’s affair with Georgia Hale was long over and he had the kiss removed, cutting abruptly from a shot of them walking away together to the end titles. Chaplin tries to smooth over the cut with narration, but it’s still a bit awkward.

Legacy

  • Upon its release, “The Gold Rush” exceeded Chaplin’s expectations by being a critical and financial hit, ultimately becoming one of the highest-grossing silent movies of all time. Chaplin himself would often cite “Gold Rush” as the film he wanted to be best remembered for.
  • Chaplin’s next film was 1928’s “The Circus”, which he made while simultaneously dealing with a divorce, the death of his mother, and trouble with the IRS. While not one of Chaplin’s more famous movies, “The Circus” earned him one of the first honorary Oscars at the inaugural Academy Awards.
  • In 1942, Chaplin re-released “The Gold Rush” with a new soundtrack, new narration in lieu of title cards, and a few editing tweaks to tighten the pacing. This was the most readily available version of “The Gold Rush” until the early 1990s, when the 1925 version was restored. I’ve seen both and trust me, stick with the 1942 cut. The original is good, but longer and paced for a much more patient audience than me.
  • In 1953, Chaplin did not renew the copyright on “The Gold Rush” (he was -ahem- out of town) and the film fell into public domain, leading to, as with so many other movies on this list, its frequent showings on TV and subsequent rediscovery by a new generation of film lovers.
  • At the 1958 Brussels World Fair, “Gold Rush” was named the 2nd greatest movie ever made by a poll of over 100 film critics, falling just five votes behind Eisenstein’s “Battleship Potemkin”. Since then, “Gold Rush” routinely appears on various greatest films lists, including both AFI Top 100 lists.
  • But of course, the film’s main legacy are the two iconic scenes mentioned above: the shoe-eating scene and the roll dance. The latter gets spoofed quite a bit, although at least one lawyer representing the estate of Charles Chaplin is quick to stop any “unauthorized imitation”.

Further Viewing: In 1979, Werner Herzog told aspiring filmmaker Errol Morris that if Morris ever finished making “Gates of Heaven”, he’d eat his shoe. Morris did, and Herzog’s end of the deal was documented in Les Blank’s aptly titled “Werner Herzog Eats His Shoe”. As expected, clips of Chaplin in “The Gold Rush” are featured.

#60) What’s Opera, Doc? (1957)

#60) What’s Opera, Doc? (1957)

OR “Wide of the Vawkywies”

Directed by Chuck Jones

Written by Michael Maltese. Songs by Maltese and Richard Wagner.

Class of 1992

This is the revised and expanded version of my original “What’s Opera, Doc?” post, which you can read here.

The Plot: After 17 years of their cat-and-mouse game (so to speak), Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd’s feud climaxes in a grand operatic fashion. Taking a cue from the operas of Richard Wagner, Fudd (voiced by Arthur Q. Bryan) is the Germanic legend Siegfried, who must “kill the wabbit” with his spear and magic helmet. Bugs (voiced by Mel Blanc) outwits Siegfried by dressing as the Valkyrie Brünnhilde and seducing him. In seven minutes, Chuck Jones distills Wagner’s epic Ring cycle for a mass audience, and in the process creates one of the most celebrated animated shorts of all time.

Why It Matters: The NFR calls it an “animation classic” that is “often considered to be [director Chuck] Jones’ cinematic masterpiece.” An essay by Chuck Jones’ grandson Craig Kausen is a tribute to the man as well as his three NFR inducted shorts.

But Does It Really?: Oh sure. As someone who grew up watching a lot of Looney Tunes on TV, “What’s Opera, Doc?” is one of their more iconic offerings. Watching it again, the short is still a visually stunning work that never forgets to be entertaining or funny. You get the sense that Chuck Jones and his team are doing this for themselves as artists rather than just cranking out another “product” to hit a studio mandated quota. “What’s Opera, Doc?” is one of the most revered and influential pieces of classic animation, so it’s no surprise that it made the Registry so early. That being said, I still think there is room for a more conventional Bugs vs. Fudd cartoon on the list, and for more Looney Tunes in general. How about those “Duck Season! Rabbit Season!” shorts? Those were great.

Shout Outs: One of the major influences on this cartoony stab at classical music was “Fantasia“, particularly the “Dance of the Hours” segment, which also played opera tropes for laughs.

Title Track: The title is of course a play on Bugs’ famous catchphrase “What’s up, doc?” which he does say (or more accurately sing) at the beginning of this short.

Seriously, Oscars?: Although “What’s Opera, Doc?” was on the Academy’s shortlist of potential nominees for Best Short Subject – Cartoons, it failed to receive a nomination. Warner Bros.’ nominees that year were the Speedy Gonzales short “Tobasco Road”, that year’s winner, the Sylvester & Tweety short “Birds Anonymous”. Chuck Jones would eventually win an Oscar for his 1965 short “The Dot and the Line”, as well as an honorary Oscar 30 years later for lifetime achievement.

Other notes

  • In the original version of this post, I wondered aloud what the difference was between Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies, but never looked into it. After a deep research dive, the short answer is “Not much.” Initially created for Warner Bros. by independent studio Harming-Ising Productions (which later evolved into Leon Schlesinger Productions), Looney Tunes began in 1930 as a direct copy of Walt Disney’s Silly Symphonies, with each Looney Tunes centering around a pre-existing song from the Warner Bros. catalog. Following the success of Looney Tunes, Warner Bros. commissioned a second unit of animated musical shorts called Merrie Melodies. Initially, Looney Tunes focused on recurring characters, while Merrie Melodies featured more stand-alone stories (Merrie Melodies‘ switch to color in 1934 also helped differentiate the two). The two series started to meld together in the early 1940s when Leon Schlesinger sold his production company to Warner Bros., and all their cartoons were produced exclusively in color. By decade’s end, Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies were so interchangeable even the animators didn’t know which title their shorts would be released under.
  • Early versions of Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd had been appearing in various Warner Bros. shorts since the late 1930s, back when Bugs was an unnamed white rabbit and Elmer was an off-shoot of the character Egghead. The characters weren’t paired together until 1940’s “Elmer’s Candid Camera”, and another pairing three months later – “A Wild Hare” – marked the official debut of Bugs Bunny and is considered the first true Bugs/Elmer cartoon. Over the next two decades, Bugs and Elmer would go head-to-head in over 35 shorts. “What’s Opera, Doc?” would be one of their final confrontations during the initial Looney Tunes run, and the last to be directed by Chuck Jones.
  • Although Mel Blanc is the only credited voice actor in “What’s Opera, Doc?”, Elmer’s voice was provided by radio actor Arthur Q. Bryan. Bryan voiced the hunter starting in the late ’30s up until his death in 1959. Side note: Mel Blanc would occasionally supply the voice of Fudd over the years, typically a single line or vocal effect when Bryan was unavailable. Blanc can be heard as Fudd in “What’s Opera, Doc?” for exactly one word: “SMOG!”
  • I don’t have a lot to say about the short itself, hence the abundance of contextualizing in this post. This is another one of those NFR entries where my opinion of the actual film is “It’s good. It’s very good.” I will take a moment, however, to point out how much I love Elmer Fudd’s singing voice. I think it’s a combination of Arthur Q. Bryan’s very sincere performance and Fudd’s famous abundance of W’s in his speech that makes me laugh every time.
  • Dressed as Brünnhilde, Bugs Bunny continues his running gag of dressing in drag to confuse his antagonists, a trait of his even before he was officially Bugs Bunny. As with so many of Bugs’ shorts, “What’s Opera, Doc?” obeys the comedy rule of cartoon drag: No one notices it’s a disguise until the wig falls off. It’s also worth noting that Michael Maltese had previously dressed Bugs as a Valkyrie in the 1945 short “Herr Meets Hare”.
  • In a twist from the usual Bugs/Fudd cartoon (and from Wagner’s opera), Elmer actually defeats Bugs. This is one of only three shorts in which Elmer is victorious, though this is the only one where he feels remorse for his actions. But all is fine when Bugs addresses the audience with the great curtain line: “Well, what did you expect in an opera? A happy ending?”

Legacy

  • “What’s Opera, Doc?” was released in July 1957, and thanks to its frequent airings on television quickly became one of the best known of the Looney Tunes/Merrie Melodies. Reflecting years later in his autobiography, Chuck Jones called the short “probably our most elaborate and satisfying production.”
  • You’ll read in a lot of places (including the official NFR write-up) that “What’s Opera, Doc?” was the first animated short inducted into the National Film Registry. That’s all well and good, but are we not counting “Gertie the Dinosaur“, inducted the year before? I guess we can technically consider “What’s Opera, Doc?” the first fully animated short in the Registry, but let’s give Winsor McCay his due.
  • In 1994, animation historian Jerry Beck published “The 50 Greatest Cartoons: As Selected by 1,000 Animation Professionals”, now considered the animation equivalent of the American Film Institute’s Top 100 Movies list. “What’s Opera, Doc?” was voted the number one greatest cartoon in the book and is one of thirteen shorts on the list that have been inducted into the National Film Registry so far.
  • Surprisingly, several accomplished opera singers (including Elizabeth Bishop and Jamie Barton) have cited “What’s Opera, Doc?” as their introduction to the artform and their inspiration to make it their career.
  • But of course, this short’s biggest legacy was and is Elmer Fudd’s iconic new lyrics to “Ride of the Valkyries”: “Kill the wabbit, kill the wabbit, kill the wabbit”. You cannot hear that music without hearing Elmer Fudd singing his heart out. Heck, I rank it above that one scene in “Apocalypse Now” as the definite use of that music in a movie.