#649) All My Babies: A Midwife’s Own Story (1953)

#649) All My Babies: A Midwife’s Own Story (1953)

Directed & Written by George C. Stoney

Class of 2002

“All My Babies” is available for viewing on the Library of Congress’ YouTube page. I can’t embed it here because it has an age-restriction (you’ll learn why in a minute) but you can watch it here.

The Plot: Produced by the Georgia Department of Public Health, “All My Babies” follows Mary Francis Hill Coley, a real life midwife in Albany, Georgia who helps deliver babies throughout Dougherty County. After a lecture from a doctor about the importance of proper hygiene, we witness Mary helping deliver babies for two families: one that practices healthy prenatal care, and one that doesn’t. Don’t worry, no one dies during this, but you will see an on-camera birth, so be prepared for that.

Why It Matters: The NFR calls the film a “landmark” that “inadvertently captured a telling snapshot at the socioeconomic conditions of the era”. Film historian Joshua Glick is on hand with a detailed essay on George Stoney and the film’s production.

But Does It Really?: “All My Babies” is the kind of unique film the NFR was made for, highlighting creative talent and exceptional communities far removed from Hollywood studios. Any NFR film gets points for me if I can instantly tell how and why it made the list and if nothing else, this is the NFR movie with a live childbirth. Definitely an unforgettable moment, though admittedly it overpowers and distracts from the rest of the movie (at least for me). Still, you can’t deny the importance of people like George Stoney and Mary Coley, and “All My Babies” is more than worthy of its NFR standing. Just don’t eat before watching it.

Everybody Gets One: George Stoney started off as a writer and field research assistant before pivoting to filmmaking after World War II. Using his pre-war experience, Stoney focused on educational films. His 1946 offering “Palmour Street” concerned mental health within the Black community and earned him a commission from the Georgia Department of Public Health to make a film about midwives. Stoney was given 118 talking points (!) to make in his midwife film, but was given the creative freedom to present these points however he wanted. Mary Coley was a veteran midwife in Albany, Georgia who was selected out of 20 potential candidates to appear in “All My Babies”. Aware of the “mammy” stereotype that could be associated with her appearance in the film, Coley worked with Stoney to present her community with respect and dignity. In addition, Coley helped craft the film’s overall structure.

Title Track: Mary says the title twice, including the final line: “I’m proud of all my babies.” Side note: On multiple occasions I have accidentally referred to this movie as “All My Sons” and “All My Children“. It’s just one of those titles, I guess.

Wow, That’s Dated: I’m definitely out of my element when it comes to medical practices, but I assume that modern midwifery is very different from how it’s depicted in this film.

Seriously, Oscars?: No Oscar for “All My Babies”. For the record: 1953’s Best Documentary Feature was fellow NFR entry “The Living Desert“.

Other notes 

  • I am very unqualified to discuss the aforementioned “socioeconomic conditions” of this movie, but it is worth mentioning that this film about a Black community was made by a White filmmaker. Stoney was able to gain the trust of the Black community depicted in this film with the help of Bishop Noah, a local pastor of Mary Coley’s church. The flip side of that is Stoney having to cow-tow to his (White) producers, depicting a South where both White and Black medical workers interact in harmony, definitely not the case in 1950s Georgia. Stoney also had to make a film that promoted midwives while simultaneously presenting them as “a temporary and unfortunate necessity” in rural Georgia.
  • Shoutout to this film’s Chief Electrician Robert Downey, who to the best of my knowledge is of no relation to either Sr. or Jr.
  • This movie is that “Forgotten Frontier” style of docudrama in which real people are recreating events from their own lives, which must have been weird. We also get a dangerous combination of thick southern accents and stilted non-acting from these performers. Patience is required for the more expositional scenes.
  • The Musical Art Chorus of Washington D.C. lend their vocal talents to the film, underscoring several key moments as joyous and celebratory. That being said, at one point the choir sounds like they’re gonna start singing “Spider-Pig“.
  • And now this movie’s most notable moment: a real-time live birth. Just when I think I’ve seen everything on this blog, I witness the beautiful, disgusting miracle of life. This is one of the rare times where going into a film cold was a disservice. Still, this was easier to watch than “Pink Flamingos“. And once the baby arrived, I immediately went into “look at that cute baby” mode. If that baby is still alive, he would be in his early ’70s and probably grossed out that he can watch his own birth.
  • Also dated: Dads-to-be waiting in another room while the baby is being born. You get your ass in there and help out! This is your doing too, you bastard!
  • A brief sequence of a mother breastfeeding her newborn child reminds me: Breastfeeding is neither gross nor sensual. If you’re on either extreme, mind your own business.
  • At one point, the doctor’s admonishment “Something wasn’t clean” echoes in Mary’s head. Maybe I just needed to lighten the mood after this movie’s darker scenes, but all I could think of in that moment was “Pinch hitting for Pedro Borbón, Manny Mota-Mota-Mota.”
  • Interesting that the second birth isn’t shown on camera. I guess the kid didn’t sign a release form.
  • “My, what a husky little peanut we have here.” That may be the worst thing you can say about a newborn child. I hope that’s not the baby’s first memory.

Legacy 

  • “All My Babies” was well received within the medical community, and even managed to be screened at New York’s Cinema 16 as an “avant-garde” piece (This designation allowed a film with childbirth to be publicly screened).
  • George Stoney continued making educational films for the next 50 years! Stoney also taught film at Columbia and NYU, and was an early advocate for democratic media, earning the moniker “the father of public-access television”.
  • Mary Coley delivered over 3,000 babies during her three-decade midwife career, and continues to be celebrated for her accomplishments; being added to the Georgia Women of Achievement list in 2011.

#648) Life of an American Fireman (1903)

#648) Life of an American Fireman (1903)

OR “The Editing Inferno”

Directed by Edwin S. Porter

Class of 2016

The Plot: A fire chief (James H. White) has a vision of a woman and her child (Unknown Actor and Vivian Vaughan) in danger when their house catches on fire. Almost immediately afterwards, that vision becomes a reality, and we follow the firefighters as they hurry to the house. A fireman (Arthur White) rescues the two in one of the first American films to feature intercutting as a form of storytelling. Or…maybe not.

Why It Matters: The NFR calls it “among the most innovative in terms of editing, storytelling and the relationship between shots.” The film’s status as a “controversial topic in American film historiography” is also highlighted.

But Does It Really?: This one is tricky. On the one hand, the NFR is understandably quick to induct and preserve these early attempts at narrative film, especially with heavy-hitters like Thomas Edison and Edwin Porter attached to it. On the other hand, it seems like this film’s historical significance comes from a later cut of the film with more advanced cross-cutting that was erroneously accepted as the original. This feels like if 100 years from now the NFR inducted “The Phantom Menace” only to realize the film they really wanted was “The Phantom Edit”. I can give “Life of an American Firefighter” a pass as a “stepping stone” movie: the missing link between the actuality films of early cinema and the first narrative stories like “The Great Train Robbery“. Plus its “controversy” among film historians puts it in the rare “Manhattan” category of NFR films in which their controversy is also their legacy.

Before we go any further, you may be wondering what exactly is this editing controversy I keep referencing. I’m glad you asked: it’s time to break down this film’s editing history, aka Life of “Life of an American Fireman”.

As presented in 1903 the final two shots of “American Fireman” were presented as seen in the video embedded above: The first of the two is an 81 second shot inside the woman’s bedroom in which she wakes up, discovers the fire, and is rescued along with her daughter by a fireman via a ladder outside her window. This is followed by an 85 second shot of these events from outside the house in which we see the firefighters prop the ladder under the woman’s bedroom window and rescue her and her daughter.

At some point, an unknown editor (potentially history’s first fan editor) recut these two shots so that the action intercut between inside and outside the house. In 1944, this recut version ended up at the Museum of Modern Art who, naturally, assumed it was the original, leading to a decades-long evaluation of Edwin Porter as an innovative editor. Around the 1960s, the original paper print (the film’s positive print submitted on paper for copyright purposes) was rediscovered within the Library of Congress with the original uncut takes, and a debate began among film historians about the validity of both versions. An original 1903 print of “American Fireman” was discovered by the American Film Institute in the late 1970s, proving that the MoMA print was a re-edit. And so from all of this we get an NFR film whose historical significance is one big misunderstanding. It’s the “Three’s Company” of NFR movies!

Wow, That’s Dated: Primarily the technology being used by the firefighters. The one that was the most intriguing to watch in action were the horse-drawn fire engines. Steam-pumped engines had been around for a while but hadn’t caught on, and the first motorized fire engine was invented in 1897 (six years before “American Fireman”), only becoming a serious contender to replace horses around 1905.

Other notes 

  • So the fire chief has a vision of the fire and then it happens? When did firefighters stop being Precogs?
  • Total tangent, but worth mentioning: For years my closest polling place was a fire station, and every time I voted I would ask if I could slide down the pole and the answer was always no. Understandable, but I bet voter turnout would be a lot better if you let people slide down the pole.
  • All this talk about firefighters got me thinking about the future of the profession; specifically if AI could ever replace human firefighters. The answer, for the time being, is a surprising no. My research shows that while AI is currently being used to help firefighters respond faster to fires and save more lives, they are only being used to aid humans rather than replace them. Which makes sense: I imagine an AI firefighter calendar wouldn’t sell as well.
  • The version I watched of “American Fireman” was from a 2004 DVD release that includes a piano score and a song! Definitely wasn’t expecting to hear an actual voice during my viewing. I cannot for the life of me find out the name of the song, but I suspect it is of the era (it has a Gilbert-and-Sullivan vibe to it). I typed in practically every intelligible lyric of this song into my search engine and couldn’t get a single lead on a name or a composer. WHO ARE YOU!?

Legacy

  • Sure, Edwin Porter can’t put “Revolutionary Film Editor” on his resume, but he still made “The Great Train Robbery”, so there.
  • Firefighters have continued to be a source of dramatic storytelling in the last century-plus of filmmaking. I’ve never seen “Backdraft”, but I did see the special effects show at Universal Studios. That counts, right?

Further Viewing: “Fire!” the 1901 British film by James Williamson that many film historians cite as an influence on “Life of an American Fireman”. I assume being a British firefighter is a lot like being an American one, except they spell it with an extra “u” for some reason.

#647) 3:10 to Yuma (1957)

#647) 3:10 to Yuma (1957)

OR “Van Transit Ford”

Directed by Delmer Daves

Written by Halsted Welles. Based on the short story “Three-Ten to Yuma” by Elmore Leonard.

Class of 2012 

The Plot: Dan Evans (Van Heflin) is a rancher in the Arizona Territory whose finances have taken a turn due to an ongoing drought. One day Evans witnesses a stagecoach robbery by a gang of bandits led by the infamous Ben Wade (Glenn Ford). When Wade and his gang arrive in the nearby town of Bisbee, Wade is arrested, and the stagecoach’s owner Mr. Butterfield (Robert Emhardt) offers $200 to anyone who volunteers to escort Wade to Contention City and make him board the 3:10 to Yuma, home of the territory’s main prison. Typically averse to confrontation or risk-taking, Evans volunteers because the money would get him out of debt. As the pair get closer to the train’s departure, Wade and Evans play a psychological cat-and-mouse game more dangerous than any shots fired along the way.

Why It Matters: The NFR calls the film “one of the best westerns of the 1950s”, praising its “progressive insight”, as well as the “innovative” work of Delmer Daves.

But Does It Really?: We have a rarity on this list: a Western I actually liked. “3:10 to Yuma” has a lot going for it; a solid storyline that cuts down on the genre’s mythologizing and focuses more on character, two great lead performances (especially Glenn Ford), wonderful cinematography, and if nothing else a runtime of only 92 minutes. “3:10” is not the first movie people think of when they think great westerns, but in many ways the film’s underratedness proved to be an asset in my viewing: no major plot points were spoiled for me beforehand, so I was able to experience the film’s tension effectively. I’ll put “3:10 to Yuma” in the “minor classic” category: Not the most important western ever made, but still entertaining enough (and referenced enough thanks to its remake) for me not to question its NFR standing.

Everybody Gets One: Delmer Daves started out in the film industry as a prop boy for 1923’s “The Covered Wagon”. By the 1930s Daves was a screenwriter, most notably co-writing the original 1939 “Love Affair”. His directorial debut was 1943’s “Destination Tokyo”, but he quickly found his niche helming Westerns that subverted the genre’s tropes (1950’s “Broken Arrow” featured one of the first Indigenous protagonists). Daves liked using the same roster of actors in his movies, and “3:10” includes Daves regulars Glenn Ford and Felicia Farr.

Title Track: In the aftermath of “High Noon“, “3:10” is another Western on this list with a title number. Composed by George Duning and Ned Washington, “The 3:10 to Yuma” is sung by Frankie Laine in what I consider his second-best title song performance. Shoutout to Washington for rhyming “Yuma” with “rumor”. [Chef’s kiss]

Seriously, Oscars?: No Oscar love for “3:10 to Yuma”, but the film received a handful of precursor nods, including a BAFTA nomination for Best Film from any Source, losing to “The Bridge on the River Kwai“.

Other notes 

  • I definitely got the sense that “3:10 to Yuma” was based on a short story, but the film’s padding didn’t bother me as much as it has with similar NFR films. The original Elmore Leonard story constitutes the second half of this film, with the first half being an appropriate amount of setup and expansion of everyone’s motives.
  • We’ve covered three other Glenn Ford movies on this list, and this is the first performance of his that impressed me. Ford was originally offered the role of Dan (more in line with previous Ford roles), but he requested to play against type as Ben instead. I gotta say, maybe this should have been Ford’s type to begin with. Ben Wade has a Hannibal Lecter thing going: as a prisoner, he should have the lowest status of any character, but he manages to keep control with his low-key charm and his ability to exploit people’s psychological weaknesses. Ford is clearly having a field day playing the heavy, inviting you to sympathize with a character that would be villainized in any other Western.
  • If I’m going to go on and on about how great Glenn Ford is in this, I gotta give Van Heflin his due. Heflin’s only other NFR appearance is as a co-lead in “Shane“, so it’s nice seeing him take center stage here, with his restrained, conflicted performance meshing well with Ford’s showier part. Also is it just me or does Van Heflin kinda sound like Buster Keaton in his later years? There’s a gravely quality to both their voices that I associate with the vice-filled lifestyles of your Classic Hollywood stars.
  • I have no idea why the character of Emmy the saloon girl is here other than to pad the story and be “the girl” in the picture. Don’t get me wrong, Felicia Farr’s not bad, and she conveys a lot of character with her subtle glances, but Emmy doesn’t really add much and we never see her again once the plot kicks in. Farr also must have had a great agent, getting equal billing with Heflin and Ford despite having maybe 10 minutes of screentime. Fun Fact: Felicia Farr was married to Jack Lemmon!
  • I do love how much time Ben focuses on the color of Emmy’s eyes. It’s a black and white movie: Who cares? Also, how does Emmy fall for Ben’s creepy come-ons? Maybe I don’t understand how flirting work.
  • Robert Emhardt is giving me a sort of Sydney Greenstreet/Burl Ives-without-a-goatee vibe.
  • I love that the amount Mr. Butterfield offers Evans is the exact amount he needs to get out of debt. It’s like that Talent Show trope where the grand prize is the exact amount the gang needs to save the rec center. Wow, I don’t know what surprises me more: The fact that I just made a “Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo” reference on this blog, or that it took me six years to do so.
  • Shoutout to Charles Lawton Jr., longtime Columbia cinematographer who shoots the hell out of the Arizona landscape and injects a surprising amount of noir-esque shadows into this western. We’ll see more of Lawton’s impressive cinematography when I finally get around to covering “The Lady from Shanghai”.
  • Henry Jones gives as much heft as he can to Alex Potter, the movie’s resident redemptive drunk. And every time the kids call him Mr. Potter I flash on Lionel Barrymore.
  • Man, Evans’ kids are annoying as hell. The younger one in particular is like a western Dennis the Menace. I laughed pretty hard at the mom’s added prayer to “give us the wisdom that comes with silence.”
  • The scenes in the Contention City hotel room (aka where the original short story begins) are understandably the best. Van and Glenn play their respective sides of the scenes with such impressive subtlety that I genuinely didn’t know how the scene would play out. Proof that a scene with just two people talking can be as thrilling as any action scene.
  • I’m confused by Alex’s line “I’m a family man in a way.” Is that a euphemism for something?
  • That’s an interesting ending. Not bad, but it just kind of happens. The climactic moment might be too obscured by the surrounding elements, but I do love the final shots as the end theme swells.

Legacy 

  • “3:10 to Yuma” was released in August 1957, and was a hit with critics and audiences. Even Elmore Leonard considered it one of the better film adaptations of his work. You know who didn’t like this movie? Howard Hawks. Between this and “High Noon”, Hawks hated how philosophical and metaphorical Westerns were becoming, which inspired him to make his own Western in response, fellow NFR entry “Rio Bravo”.
  • Delmer Daves continued making westerns throughout the ’50s (most notably “The Hanging Tree”), but his weakening heart condition led him to withdraw from the on-location hazards of westerns for a safer in-studio climate. Daves’ later films include “Spencer’s Mountain” and “A Summer Place”, the latter of which has a theme song that I now have stuck in my head for the rest of the day.
  • This is one of those movies that tends to be referenced in pop culture mainly for its title. Someone will refer to a train (or any other important mode of transportation) as “the 3:10 to Yuma”, but that’s about it.
  • Did you know that Elmore Leonard wrote the books and short stories that would become the films “Get Shorty”, “Jackie Brown”, and the TV series “Justified”? If I knew any of that, I defintely forgot.
  • After a bit of development turnaround, a remake of “3:10 to Yuma” hit theaters in fall 2007. Directed by James Mangold and starring Russell Crowe and Christian Bale, this “3:10” is on the list of rare remakes of classics that are as good as the original. When I told people I was covering “3:10” for the blog, a lot of them assumed it was the remake.
  • Perhaps the film’s most enduring legacy happened in another country. “3:10 to Yuma” was one of the last films released in pre-revolution Cuba and citizens used the film’s title as slang for Americans: “yumas” (a variation on “La Yunay”, their term for the United States). After the revolution, American pop culture was banned, but a wave of nostalgia for these old movies hit Cuba in the late 1970s, and some US titles started to make the rounds again. “3:10” returned to Cuban culture, as did the term “yumas”.

Bonus Clip: The theme from “A Summer Place”, so that we can all suffer this earworm together.

#646) Ninotchka (1939)

#646) Ninotchka (1939)

OR “Commie Dearest”

Directed by Ernst Lubitsch

Written by Charles Brackett & Billy Wilder and Walter Reisch. Based on an original story by Melchior Lengyel.

Class of 1990

The Plot: Sure I could give a detailed plot description of “Ninotchka”, but I will never be able to top Melchior Lengyel’s initial pitch for the film: “Russian girl [Greta Garbo] saturated with Bolshevist ideals goes to fearful, capitalistic, monopolistic Paris. She meets romance and has uproarious good time. Capitalism not so bad, after all.”

Why It Matters: The NFR calls the film a “sparkling romantic comedy”, praising the work of Garbo, Lubitsch, Wilder, and Brackett.

But Does It Really?: Oh yes. I had a good time watching “Ninotchka”. So many great films of the studio system are the magical combination of a solid script and the right star power, and “Ninotchka” has both in spades. “Ninotchka” holds up better than most romantic comedies because its core concept isn’t a battle of the sexes, it’s a battle of the ideals. Both Greta Garbo and Melvyn Douglas play their sides of the Communism vs. Capitalism debate quite well, Garbo in particular is giving her most human performance here. On top of the solid love story is the assured direction of Ernst Lubitsch and the expected brilliance of a Billy Wilder/Charles Brackett screenplay. “Ninotchka” is one of the jewels in the 1939 Classic Hollywood Crown, and while the film may not be as well remembered today, its NFR induction is certainly warranted.

Shout Outs: Garbo comes very close to quoting her famous “I vant to be alone” line from “Grand Hotel“, giving us such near-misses as “We want to be alone”. Such a tease.

Wow, That’s Dated: You should probably brush-up on your 1930s Communism in order to fully appreciate the film’s political commentary. For instance: I didn’t realize the Soviets had a five-year plan. Is this what they’re asking about in job interviews?

Seriously, Oscars?: A hit upon release, “Ninotchka” received four Oscar nominations: Best Picture, Actress, Story, and Screenplay. In another year “Ninotchka” would have had a legitimate shot at winning one or two of these categories, but unfortunately it was 1939, aka The Greatest Year for Movies, and the film lost three of these categories to “Gone with the Wind” and the fourth to “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington“.

Other notes 

  • Melchior Lengyel conceived “Ninotchka” during a conference to come up with star vehicles for Greta Garbo, whose film career took a hit when she was labeled “Box Office Poison” by the Independent Theater Owners Association in 1938 . Originally, Ernst Lubitsch was only meant to produce this film, with George Cukor set to direct. Once Cukor left the project in favor of “Gone with the Wind”, Lubitsch agreed to direct, as long as MGM allowed his next project to be “The Shop Around the Corner“. Lubitsch ordered a re-write, and apparently made enough contributions to the script that Wilder & Brackett unsuccessfully lobbied the Writers Guild to give Lubitsch a credit.
  • That Wilder/Brackett dialogue comes at you fast and furious in the opening scenes. Lubitsch handles the screenwriters’ trademark repartee with the delicate touch synonymous with his movies. The pacing is quick enough to keep the momentum going, with time to let the dialogue sink in without feeling tossed off a la “Ball of Fire“.
  • This is my first experience with young Melvyn Douglas, being more accustomed to his later career as an Oscar winning elder statesman. Here Douglas is quite charming as Count Leon, the kind of romantic cad you would expect to see Don Ameche play (apparently Cary Grant and William Powell were in consideration).
  • Wasn’t Garbo in this? Seriously, it is a very long twenty minutes before she shows up. In the meantime there’s a lot of plot setup, plus some comic interludes with the three Russian Board of Trade agents (Sig Ruman, Felix Bressart, and Alexander Granach). There’s also a running gag about the agents ordering French maid/cigarette girls to come up to their hotel room. This is of course back when French maids still dressed like…well, French maids.
  • The best exchange in the movie: Ninotchka, upon learning that a porter’s job is to take her bag, “That’s no business, that’s a social injustice.” The Porter: “That depends on the tip.”
  • We have previously covered Garbo’s other two NFR films on this blog, and yet have never really talked about the woman herself. Garbo’s work in “Flesh and the Devil” and “Grand Hotel” plays to her established screen persona, the stoic woman caught in a forbidden and/or doomed romance, and I had nothing substantial to say about either other than “Yep, that’s a Garbo performance.” With “Ninotchka” Garbo still plays to type, but also gets the chance to be funny while doing it. Having Garbo play the first half of the movie with a total stone-face is the right choice; milking every laugh out of how thoroughly unamused Ninotchka is by her surroundings. It makes her eventual warming up all the more satisfying. This is the first Garbo performance I actually enjoyed watching; her statuesque exterior giving way to her proverbial feet of clay.
  • The scene in the cafe when Leon finally gets Ninotchka to laugh is worth the wait. Side note: The film’s tagline “Garbo Laughs!” is a play on “Garbo Talks!”, the tagline for Garbo’s first sound picture “Anna Christie”.
  • I like that Ninotchka is a little awkward upon being with Leon when she buys the hat. Again, it goes with letting Garbo actually play a nuanced character rather than her persona. It’s more entertaining to watch, and helps the film age better.
  • Garbo drinks! Apparently Garbo had misgivings about playing a scene where Ninotchka gets drunk on champagne, which she consider vulgar. Lubitsch himself expressed his frustration in the press, calling Garbo “the most inhibited person I have ever worked with.”
  • Wow, even Vladimir Lenin gets a laugh in this. There’s your Lubitsch Touch!
  • Shoutout to Ina Claire, a stage actress making one of her rare film appearances as the Grand Duchess Swana, the woman Count Leon has a casual dalliance with. Unlike other rom-com third wheels, Grand Duchess Swana is more like 2E from “Breakfast at Tiffany’s“: yes she’s the other woman, but she’s holding all the cards. Claire doesn’t have much to do until the Grand Duchess’ confrontation with Ninotchka at the end, but she nails the scene, making us understand that this woman does not live or die by the love of one man. Interestingly enough, Ina Claire was briefly married to John Gilbert after his famous love affair with Garbo, so I can imagine there was a little extra friction behind the scenes that day.
  • Wow, the last chunk of the movie when Ninotchka returns to Russia really drags. I don’t care about how bleak communist Russia is or what happened to the three agents, I just want to know how Ninotchka and Leon get back together.
  • During the lulls of the final half hour, I thought, “Didn’t I see Bela Lugosi’s name in the opening credits? Did I miss him?” Turns out Lugosi only has one scene, right before the finale as Commissar Razinin, his only non-vampire NFR appearance. “Ninotchka” was one of Lugosi’s last forays into an A picture before being permanently typecast by his work with Universal monsters. Despite his brief screentime here, Lugosi receives 4th billing for his performance. Either someone at MGM really liked Lugosi or he had a great agent.
  • And then we get a weird tag after Ninotchka and Leon’s “happily ever after”: a throwaway gag about the agents and their restaurant business. Once again, I don’t care about these subplots, just end the movie!

Legacy 

  • “Ninotchka” was the hit Garbo needed to combat her “Box Office Poison” label. MGM immediately re-teamed her with Melvyn Douglas for another rom-com, 1941’s “Two-Faced Woman”. The film was not well-received by critics, and while it did okay at the box office, didn’t make its money back and became one of many reasons Garbo left MGM. Garbo had every intention of returning to film after World War II, but every opportunity that arose either fell through or was rejected by Garbo, until eventually she opted for retirement. “Ninotchka” proved to be the penultimate film of Garbo’s career, and her last hit.
  • Unsurprisingly, “Ninotchka” did not go over well with Soviet Russia, and an attempt to release the film in Vienna after the war was met with controversy. Vienna finally played “Ninotchka” in 1951 after the city reclaimed its full sovereignty from Russia.
  • A musical adaptation by Cole Porter called “Silk Stockings” played Broadway in 1955 staring German actress Hildegard Knef and Don Ameche (I told you he’d be good in that part). The inevitable film adaptation came in 1957, starring Cyd Charisse and Fred Astaire, and was one of the last MGM musicals under the fabled “Freed Unit”.
  • Other movies that share a bit of “Ninotchka” DNA include 1940’s “Comrade X” and 1956’s “The Iron Petticoat”.
  • But the person who got the biggest career boost from “Ninotchka” was one of its screenwriters. “Ninotchka” was the first major hit for Billy Wilder, who would be directing his first Hollywood movie within three years of this film’s release, paving the way for his nearly 30 year run as one of Hollywood’s most celebrated writer/directors.

#645) Ringling Brothers Parade Film (1902)

#645) Ringling Brothers Parade Film (1902)

OR “The Greatest Show Unearthed”

Produced by the Selig Polyscope Company

Class of 2021

The full film, with a delightful introduction from film historian David Kiehn.

The Plot: As per the Selig Polyscope Company’s listing, “Ringling Brothers Parade Film” is “the finest circus parade caught by a moving picture camera.” Filmed on May 12th, 1902, the film documents the Ringling Brothers Circus parading down Capital Avenue in downtown Indianapolis, Indiana ahead of their performance in town later that day. In three minutes we see all the sights (but not sounds -it’s a silent film) of the fabled Ringling Brothers Circus: cages of wild animals, riders on horseback, a marching band, clowns, camels, and a finale of elephants! The Selig Company calls it “the greatest and grandest circus parade ever seen on a motion picture film”, though to be fair in 1902 it was probably the only circus parade ever seen on film.

Why It Matters: The NFR calls the short a “delightful gem” and highlights the film’s “rare glimpse of a prosperous northern Black community” at a time when African-Americans were rarely seen on film.

But Does It Really?: Yes, because why the hell not? “Ringling Brothers Parade Film” is not the most important or significant movie on the list, but you know what: it’s fun. While I never went to the circus as a kid, I enjoyed watching this footage of a circus in its prime, and equally enjoyed hearing David Kiehn talk about the film’s rediscovery in the video embedded above. The NFR’s spin about the film’s depiction of a Black community is commendable, but it strikes me as an attempt to justify the inclusion of this film on a list of more diverse selections (this is the year of “Selena” and “The Watermelon Woman” after all). Yes, there are Black people in this film, but in terms of representation this ain’t exactly the “Solomon Sir Jones Films“. Overall, “Ringling Brothers Parade Film” delivers what the title suggests, and I’m glad this little oddity has found its way onto the Registry.

Everybody Gets One: Albert, Otto, Alfred, Charles, and John Ringling started performing their juggling act together around 1882 in their hometown of Baraboo, Wisconsin (there were two additional brothers – Gus and Henry – who weren’t part of the act). Once the boys started touring, the act continued to expand, officially becoming a circus in 1884 with their purchase of the Yankee Robinson Circus. Over the next thirty years, the Ringling Brothers Circus traveled the country, keeping tabs on their main competition, Barnum and Bailey’s. With declining attendance and the death of co-founder Jonathan Bailey, the Ringlings officially merged with Barnum and Bailey in 1919, and toured for the next 98 years as “The Greatest Show on Earth”.

Wow, That’s Dated: I was ready to add “circuses in general” to the list, but I guess they’re back? While Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus closed in May 2017, Feld Entertainment (the circus’ operating company) announced recently that Ringling will resume touring in September 2023, sans animal acts. Feld, if you really love circuses, let them go.

Other notes 

  • First and foremost, a shoutout to David Kiehn and the Niles Essanay Silent Film Museum in Fremont, California. All information we have about this film stems from Kiehn’s research. Side note: Like myself, David Kiehn is an alumni of SFSU! What’s up, fellow Gator?
  • Among the details Kiehn used to determine the film’s identity: background signs for “Park Theatre” and “Cleveland Club” (what the latter was doing in Indianapolis I have no idea), the carvings on the wagons (unique to Ringling Brothers), and a trolley car labeled “Blake”. This is the kind of deep-dive researching that makes me love film history. It’s amazing what you can figure out with internet access and a thirst for knowledge. By the way, one of the resources Kiehn used was the Internet Archive. If you love any sort of film history research projects like this one, please donate anything you can to them.
  • The Polyscope description says the parade is lead by “Mr. Ringling”, though it never specifies which one. They were all still alive in 1902, so it’s anyone’s guess.
  • I love the little moment where a female onlooker is tapped on the shoulder and asked to stand back. I wonder if they knew she was partially blocking the shot. “Would you step back miss? You’re obstructing the posterity.”
  • There are several parade watchers holding umbrellas. Turns out Indianapolis was unusually hot that day, with a high of 85 degrees! And everyone’s wearing suits and dresses! I would not have survived back then.
  • Yes, there are lions and tigers and bears in the parade, but their cages are so dark you can barely see them. I’ll take your word for it, movie.
  • Wait, are the clowns the guys on top of the wagon playing instruments? Either that or the bit of film with the clowns is missing from this reel. Regardless, those of you with a fear of clowns should be able to watch this with no problem.
  • Everyone in this movie is dressed like they’re in “The Man Who Would Be King“.
  • After seeing all the horses in this parade, I have come to the conclusion that circuses smelled awful.
  • And there’s elephants too? Yeah, nothing about this experience smelled good. The people of Indianapolis must have been really starved for entertainment in 1902. Thank god the Motor Speedway was only a few years away.
  • Did you know that David Letterman, Brendan Fraser, Jane Pauley, Madam C.J. Walker, and John Dillinger are all from Indianapolis? And so is “Double Dare” host Marc Summers! Sorry; I’ve fallen into a research rabbit hole, where were we? Oh right, the circus.

Legacy 

  • “Ringling Brothers Parade Film” was released in July 1902, and was available for purchase to be screened at your exhibition hall for $18 (over $600 in today’s money!). The film was still advertised by the Selig Company as late as 1908, but seemingly disappeared after the company folded in 1918. Cut to the Niles Essany Silent Film Museum in 2011, when an elderly couple from Oakland donated an unmarked reel of film they discovered in their home in 1969 (you may be thinking, “Why did they wait 42 years before turning it in?” but don’t we all have items on our To Do list that we keep putting off?) Thanks to the detective work of David Kiehn, the unmarked reel was identified as “Ringling Brothers Parade Film” and received a 5K restoration. The restored film was uploaded onto the Niles’ YouTube channel in October 2020, and made the NFR 14 months later.

Further Viewing: This viewing made me realize how few circus movies are on the Registry (the only other ones I can think of offhand are “Dumbo” and “HE Who Gets Slapped“). As for possible future entries, I suppose DeMille’s “The Greatest Show on Earth” has a shot. Sure, it routinely ranks among the worst Oscar Best Picture winners of all time, but as I recently learned from “The Fabelmans”, it’s the film that gave young Steven Spielberg his love/fear of the movies. That’s a legacy!