The Horse's Head

December 16^th, 2003: Before heading off to midnight screenings of “Return of the King”, the Library of Congress throws 25 more movies into the National Film Registry, bringing the grand total to 375 films. I’ve just finished watching all 25, and here is my regular recap. In chronological order, here’s the Class of 2003:

• The Dickson Experimental Sound Film (1894): “the earliest known attempt to synch film with sound”
• Princess Nicotine; or, The Smoke Fairy (1909): “confusing, but man are those special effects a sight to behold.”
• Matrimony’s Speed Limit (1913): “not very entertaining today…[but] is one of a handful of surviving films from Alice Guy-Blanché”
• The Chechahcos (1923): “Its Alaskan production claim might be this film’s sole reason for making the NFR”
• The Son of the Sheik (1926): “I just don’t understand why the NFR didn’t induct “The Sheik” first (and as of this writing, still hasn’t).” “It don’t make no sense.”
• Fox Movietone News: Jenkins Orphanage Band (1928): “the only footage available online is 10 minutes of outtakes.” “Does the final newsreel still exist?”
• Show People (1928): “a funny love letter to early Hollywood.”
• The Wedding March (1928): “an intriguing behind-the-scenes story, but ultimately a viewing experience reserved solely for film buffs.”
• Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933): “how can you say no to the musical that gave us ‘We’re in the Money’?”
• Tarzan and His Mate (1934): “this Tarzan is a perfect representation of the overall series.”
• Naughty Marietta (1935): “the kind of escapist romantic movie musicals that delighted Depression-era audiences.”
• Young Mr. Lincoln (1939): “As a biopic it’s a bit on the nose…[a]s courtroom drama it’s a bit more engaging…[a]s a classic film worthy of preservation, I have my doubts”. [Note from the future: Jeez, that was harsh. I don’t remember hating this film that much, or at all.]
• National Velvet (1944): “a sweet, genuinely heartfelt movie”
• White Heat (1949): “an entertainingly tense, well-scripted entry in the [gangster] genre.”
• One Froggy Evening (1955): “still really funny with solid animation” “Who am I to say no?”
• The Hunters (1957): “I did not start this blog so I could watch a giraffe snuff film.”
• Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969): “a continuation of New Hollywood’s deconstruction of the classic Western”.
• Medium Cool (1969): “a chance to see what happens when [Haskell] Wexler has full control over a movie.”
• Patton (1970): “an iconic piece of filmmaking”
• (nostalgia) (1971): “deceivingly simple, yet quite thought-provoking.”
• Film Portrait (1972): “a thoughtful, entertaining memoir”.
• Antonia: A Portrait of the Woman (1974): “a tribute to an unsung artist who finally got her moment in the sun”
• Young Frankenstein (1974): “not only one of the funniest films ever, but also a frontrunner for best parody ever.”
• Atlantic City (1980): “I’m a sucker for a well-acted character study”
• Tin Toy (1988): “an important stepping stone movie in the history of Pixar”.

Other notes

• The big news at the time was the reauthorization of the National Film Preservation Act in November 2003 (cutting it a little close for that December announcement, but it all worked out). There weren’t too many amendments this time, other than language to encourage public accessibility to Registry titles, as well as their inclusion in the collection at the National Audio-Visual Conservation Center in Culpeper, Virginia. Also, in a surprising move, Congress actually gave the National Film Preservation Board more money! Appropriations to the NFPB at the time were $250,000 a year, with the reauthorization allotting $500,000 annually to the Board in 2004 and 2005, and then up to $1,000,000 a year through 2013. While those figures would get lowered again in a 2008 amendment, they wouldn’t be lowered to pre-2003 amounts, so that’s still a win for everyone.
• The NFR Class of 2003 is a continuation of the “minor classic”/“what isn’t on the list yet” path the Registry traveled for most of the 2000s. A few iconic titles are here, but mostly encores from artists already represented (another Cagney gangster pic, another Busby Berkeley backstage musical, another Mel Brooks comedy, etc). The Class of 2003 checks off a few more missing bits of American film history with a Tarzan movie, an Eddy/MacDonald musical, a Rudolph Valentino vehicle (though arguably the wrong one), and the first Pixar short on the list. In addition, the NFR still made room for films by such lesser-known filmmakers as Hollis Frampton, as well as unique titles like “Princess Nicotine” and “The Chechahcos”.
• My posts on these 25 films can be summed up in two words: “I guess.” There’s only a handful of these films that I unconditionally support for NFR inclusion in these write-ups, and the rest are a series of passes I gave for historical or cultural significance, with one or two whose inclusion I questioned outright. Once again: I don’t recall hating “Young Mr. Lincoln” that much, but that post was pretty early in my run so perhaps a re-watch is in order. 
• Side note: In my “Atlantic City” post I slam anti-vaxxers a full year before the COVID-19 pandemic. I am nothing if not consistent. 
• Shoutout to 1894’s “The Dickson Experimental Sound Film”, which at the time was the earliest film on the Registry. It would hold this distinction for seven years before being supplanted by the current record-holder: 1891’s “Newark Athlete”.
• At the time of the NFR announcement, “The Last Samurai” was number one at the U.S. box office. No current NFR titles were playing in theaters, but the sequel to one was: “The Matrix Revolutions”. Other notable titles in theaters included “Elf”, “Somethings Gotta Give”, “Master and Commander”, “School of Rock”, and “Love Actually” (which is mercifully ineligible for the NFR).
• Quite a few Double-Dippers in the Class of 2003. Among them: actors Peter Boyle, Cloris Leachman, and Kenneth Mars, art directors Cedric Gibbons and A. Arnold “Buddy” Gillespie, editor John C. Howard, and possibly Robert Z. Leonard (he has a cameo as himself in “Show People” and was the original director of “Naughty Marietta” for literally one day).
• Thematic double-dippers: Portraits (Both “Film” and “of the Woman”), historical biopics, extraordinary animals, unhappy engagements/arranged marriages, train robberies with explosives, the descendants of more famous characters, gold diggers both literal and figurative, entries set/filmed in Africa, pie fights, films made explicitly to test new technology, and the song “Ah! Sweet Mystery of Life”
• Favorites of my own subtitles: Fear and Loathing in Los Anchorage, Polly Parker Pranks a Pair of Pickled Patrons, Strong Arm of the Ma, Ol’ Blood and Guts is Back, Burn After Filming, and A Movie-able Feast.
• As always, I’m at a loss for how to end these recaps, so here’s Michigan J. Frog! It was either him or the “Tin Toy” baby, so consider yourself lucky.

The Plot: Tinny is a small one-man-band toy excited for playtime, until he sees that the child who wants to play with him is a slobbering infant whose idea of playing involves putting toys in his mouth and throwing them across the room. Tinny tries to hide from the baby, but soon showcases the first instance of Pixar asking the question, “What if toys had feelings?”

Why It Matters: The NFR hails the film as “one of Pixar’s best short subjects” despite its “clunky foray into human characters”. I’ve read some backhanded compliments from the NFR in my time, but this one takes the cake. You never want an organization like the NFR to use the word “clunky” when describing your contribution to American culture.

But Does It Really?: If it’s 2003 and Pixar is in its creative prime and “Toy Story” isn’t NFR eligible for another two years, then “Tin Toy” is a natural choice to represent Pixar on the list. Like “Luxo Jr.” before it, “Tin Toy” is an important stepping stone movie in the history of Pixar. The technology is crude by modern standards (and don’t worry, we’ll get to the baby), but the film serves as an incubator for the kind of heartfelt, original storytelling the studio would later perfect in its features. A pass for “Tin Toy” on the NFR.

Shout Outs: Look quickly for a picture of Luxo Jr. hanging on the wall. Because who doesn’t have a framed photo of a lamp hanging in their living room?

Seriously, Oscars?: In 1989, “Tin Toy” won the Oscar for Best Animated Short, the first computer-animated short to take home the prize. The clip below not only includes the presentation for Best Animated Short (and the acceptance speech by co-producers John Lasseter and William Reeves), but also for Best Live-Action Short, which went to “The Appointment of Dennis Jennings”, produced by Dean Parisot and Steven Wright. Yes, that Steven Wright.

• This is the second film I’ve covered this year that has “The Price is Right” playing in the background. We are one step closer to inducting that “Price is Right” episode where that lady’s tube top falls off.
• My god that is one creepy looking baby. It’s like a cross between a possessed baby doll and a raisin. It’s so horrifying it distracts from the short’s otherwise excellent animation, especially Tinny’s characterization. In all fairness, Pixar wasn’t pleased with the baby’s final look either. The limited production timeline of “Tin Toy” prevented Pixar from perfecting some of the baby’s details (primarily its movement, which is very stiff in the final film), though believe it or not they were able to refine its face, which apparently looked even worse in the beginning. Also in everyone’s defense, it would take about another decade before computer-animation technology could handle more realistic human characters.
• The short makes up for its anticlimactic ending with some interesting credits. Several longtime Pixar employees get mentioned here, as does a “Very, Very Special Thanks” to Steve Jobs. There’s also a section called “Babies John Looked at a Lot”; which definitely could use a retitling. It’s also worth freeze-framing the legal disclaimer at the end for such extra details as “Seatbelts save lives”, “This bag is not a toy”, and an addendum to the standard no illegal reproduction disclaimer: “or we won’t be your friends anymore.” Even with their hectic production schedule, its nice to see the Pixar team retained its sense of humor.

• Pixar has made a few references to “Tin Toy” in their subsequent work over the years, most notably Tinny’s cameo in “Toy Story 4”. While a harmless nod to Pixar’s own history, this easter egg has led to the fan theory that “Tin Toy” is a “Toy Story” prequel and that the baby is actually Andy. Please people, not everything is connected in a cinematic universe.

• “Tin Toy” is one of the first in a long line of memorable Pixar shorts. Personal favorites include “Geri’s Game”, “Bao”, “Presto”, and that “Toy Story” short at the fast-food restaurant with the very random “Condorman” reference. I can’t believe anyone remembers “Condorman”. 

The Plot: Sissy Spacek IS Loretta Lynn: singer, songwriter, and the First Lady of Country Music. In 1948, a young Loretta Webb lives in Butcher Hollow, Kentucky with her family. One day she meets Oliver “Doolittle” Lynn (Tommy Lee Jones), and their whirlwind romance leads to them getting married one month later. Although their marriage is tumultuous from the start, Doolittle encourages Loretta’s singing talents, having her perform at local honky-tonks and recording a demo for radio stations. By 1960, her first single “I’m a Honky Tonk Girl” is a hit, earning Loretta a spot on the Grand Ole Opry radio program, and a tour with country music legend Patsy Cline (Beverly D’Angelo). But all this fame takes it toll on Loretta’s well-being (and her marriage) in this intelligent, straightforward biopic.

Why It Matters: The NFR salutes the film for “help[ing] set the standard for every musical biography that has followed it” and praises Spacek’s “deeply heartfelt and true-to-life performance”.

But Does It Really?: I’m not a fan of country music or musical biopics, but I must admit to enjoying “Coal Miner’s Daughter”. A lot of that is the lead performances of Spacek and Jones, but it’s also because of the very wise decisions made by this movie’s direction and screenplay. “Coal Miner’s Daughter” feels more like a real movie than a musical biopic, largely avoiding the cliches and story beats of many similar movies in the last 45 years, focusing on our two leads and treating them like the real people they are. While “Coal Miner’s Daughter” isn’t the first movie people think of when it comes to iconic biopics, it still works as an engaging retelling of Loretta Lynn’s story, and its NFR inclusion is surprising but welcome.

Everybody Gets One: Born in Buckinghamshire, England, Michael Apted got his start as a researcher at Granada Television. One of his first assignments was assisting director Paul Almond with his documentary “Seven Up!” which chronicled 14 seven-year-olds in their daily lives, and spawned several follow-up films directed by Apted. In addition to documentaries, Apted began directing feature films, and the success of 1979’s “Agatha” got him hired to direct “Coal Miner’s Daughter” following the departure of original director Joseph Sargent (more on this later). Both Loretta Lynn and Sissy Spacek praised Apted for his commitment to portraying Southern culture authentically, devoid of any prejudice towards “hillbillies” an American director might have included.

Title Track: In addition to being the name of the movie and the memoir it’s based on, “Coal Miner’s Daughter” is a song written by Loretta Lynn that appeared on her 1971 album of the same name. The song appears in the movie, but you have to wait for it.

Seriously, Oscars?: A hit upon release, “Coal Miner’s Daughter” received seven Oscar nominations, including Best Picture. While the film lost in most categories to “Ordinary People” and “Raging Bull”, it won the category that mattered most: Best Actress for Sissy Spacek, which she accepted with a beaming Loretta Lynn in attendance. Spacek also received a Grammy nomination for her performance in the film’s soundtrack album, losing to Anne Murray for “Could I Have This Dance”.

• The movie picks up steam when Beverly D’Angelo shows up as Patsy Cline. As presented here, Patsy is Loretta’s fairy godmother, helping her gain more confidence and take more control of her career and image. D’Angelo is giving a very self-assured, fun performance, and she could have easily gotten a Supporting Actress Oscar nod if Patsy had stuck around longer. Spoiler: How many more NFR movies do I have to watch in which a real-life figure dies in a plane crash?

• The film’s second half follows the “What goes up must come down” law of musical biopics, but again it’s all done subtly enough that you don’t mind. Loretta’s Valium addiction is touched upon, and the jury’s still out over whether or not she had a nervous breakdown during one of her concerts as depicted here. This may be the only time I wish people had their phones out during a concert.

• It takes almost two hours, but we finally get the title song! Holding off until the end for “Coal Miner’s Daughter” is a smart choice, with the lyrics receiving extra emotional weight after we experience Loretta’s highs and lows alongside her. That being said, these are some of the slantiest slant rhymes I’ve ever heard, with Loretta rhyming “daughter” with “holler” and “yard” with “tired”. If you keep stretching like that you’re going to hurt something.
• Another thing I appreciated about this movie: no epilogue text telling you what happened to everyone. If you want to learn about Loretta Lynn following the events of this movie, look it up yourself. Or just read the “Legacy” section below.
• During the end credits, we get the interesting note “All songs sung by Sissy Spacek & Beverly D’Angelo”. Both actresses were singers before their acting careers, and more than up to the challenges of this film, with Spacek spending time with Loretta Lynn to study her cadence and guitar playing skills. The rest of the end credits play over a semi-hasty medley of Spacek’s songs from the movie. It plays almost like a victory lap now that you know she did her own singing.

• “Coal Miner’s” producer Bernard Schwartz followed up with “Sweet Dreams”, a 1985 Patsy Cline biopic starring Jessica Lange. Although Lange received an Oscar nomination for her performance, she was criticized for lip-synching to Cline’s original recordings rather than doing her own singing. Adding insult to injury: Loretta Lynn does not appear as a character in “Sweet Dreams”. Ouch.

• In the years following “Coal Miner’s Daughter”, Loretta Lynn continued recording albums and receiving every lifetime achievement award a country singer can get. She also wrote her second autobiography, 2002’s “Still Woman Enough”, which sadly was never turned into a sequel to this film. Despite the marital difficulties depicted in the film, Loretta and Dolittle stayed together until his death in 1996. Loretta Lynn died in 2022 at age 90, a year and a half after the release of her 46th and final album.

Listen to This: Both Loretta Lynn and Patsy Cline were inducted into the National Recording Registry within its first decade: Cline’s “Crazy” in 2003, and Lynn’s “Coal Miner’s Daughter” in 2009. NRR stalwart Cary O’Dell wrote an essay on “Coal Miner’s Daughter”, while special guest essayist Douglas Gomery penned this one about “Crazy”.

The Plot: During a service in a Black church, a pastor (Carlton Moss) acknowledges the members of his congregation serving in the Army. The pastor’s sermon becomes a lecture on the history of African-Americans who fought for their country throughout its history, citing the importance of African-Americans in shaping our country’s future. This brings us to the present day, with Black men serving in the Army and fighting in World War II. Congregation member Mrs. Bronson (Bertha Woolford) reads a letter from her son, a recently enlisted Army soldier, who writes that despite all the hardships of training and war, every man in the Army – Black or otherwise – understands that they are all fighting for the freedom of the world. Brought to you by the US Department of War.

Why It Matters: The NFR quotes historian Thomas Cripps, who called the film, “a watershed in the use of film to promote racial tolerance”. The write-up also salutes the “dignified, realistic, and far less stereotypical manner” in which African-Americans are depicted in this film.

But Does It Really?: Yes, this film’s subject matter helps it stand out from other WWII propaganda on the NFR. And yes, the film’s depiction of African-Americans is positive and stereotype-free. This all being said, the phrase that kept coming up for me during my viewing of “The Negro Soldier” was “separate, but equal”. While this film highlights our African-American citizens in a way that mainstream media hadn’t up until that point, it’s all couched in the segregation of the time. Black soldiers may be united with White soldiers in their fight against the Nazis, but that union is strictly figurative. Like so many NFR films of this era, “Negro Soldier” is very progressive for its time, but a modern viewing reads more as “two steps forward, one step back”. On the plus side, as of this writing “The Negro Soldier” is the last wartime propaganda on the NFR I have to watch for this blog, so that inadvertently earns the film a few points in its favor.

Shout Outs: Among the many films incorporated into “The Negro Soldier” is the construction of the Transcontinental Railroad from John Ford’s “The Iron Horse”. There’s also apparently footage from “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington” and “The River”, but I can’t confirm that.

Everybody Gets One: A theater director from North Carolina, Carlton Moss worked in the Negro Theatre Unit of the Federal Theatre Project, taking over the unit after John Houseman’s departure in 1936. In 1942, Moss was recruited by Frank Capra to write the script for “The Negro Soldier” after initial drafts (by White writers) were deemed unsatisfactory. Moss’ first draft, titled “Men of Color to Arms”, was rejected for being too angry, so Moss re-wrote the script under the restrictions of various government mandates, including the exclusion of any mention of segregation within the film. In addition to penning the screenplay, Moss conducted research for the film, served as a technical advisor, and played the Pastor within the film.

• Carlton Moss continued making films for the next 40 years, becoming an important voice in Black independent filmmaking. Future subjects of Moss’ films included Frederick Douglass, George Washington Carver, and Paul Laurence Dunbar.
• The biggest influence of “The Negro Soldier” was its positive depiction of African-Americans. While the future of American film still had (and has) its share of harmful Black stereotypes, “Negro Soldier” helped paved the way for the likes of Sidney Poitier, Dorothy Dandridge, and countless other Black artists who would help push the development of African-Americans on film into a more positive light.

The Plot: Arthur “Cody” Jarrett (James Cagney) is a tough, merciless gangster with one major Achilles’ heel: His psychological obsession with his mother (Margaret Wycherly). A successful train robbery by Jarrett and his gang catches the eye of the US Treasury Department, and a manhunt begins. Jarrett successfully evades the law by turning himself in for a lesser crime he didn’t commit that doubles as his alibi for the train robbery and spares him from the death penalty in a federal prison. With Jarrett behind bars in a state prison, the Treasury enlists undercover agent Hank Fallon (Edmond O’Brien) to pose as convicted criminal Vic Pardo, gain Jarrett’s trust, and learn who is laundering Jarrett’s stolen money. It’s a cops-and-robber thriller, with an added Freudian element and zero explanation of what exactly the titular “white heat” is. Is it the cops?

Why It Matters: The NFR calls the film “[o]ne of the toughest and most brilliant crime films ever made”. An essay by Raoul Walsh expert Marilyn Ann Moss unsurprisingly focuses on Walsh’s directorial contributions to the film.

But Does It Really?: “White Heat” is in the “minor classic” category of both classic Hollywood movies and gangster pictures. While “White Heat” isn’t as well-remembered as some of Cagney’s earlier gangster offerings, it is an entertainingly tense, well-scripted entry in the genre, with Jarrett’s psychological issues adding a nice complex layer to the proceedings. With a memorable star turn by Cagney and its iconic final moments, “White Heat” is more than worthy of its NFR status.

Wow, That’s Dated: Plenty of dated elements, mainly the pre-GPS direction finders the cops use to track down Jarrett. Also, among the places Jarrett and his gang hide out in are a drive-in movie theater and one of those newfangled “motor-hotels”.

Everybody Gets One: Screenwriters Ivan Goff and Ben Roberts first met in the late 1930s while they were both staff writers at Republic Studios. The met up again in New York during the war, collaborating on the play “Portrait in Black”, which had a successful Broadway run. Goff and Roberts continued their writing partnership for the next 40 years, and although “White Heat” was the peak of their screenwriting careers, the two had a successful run on television in the ‘60s and ‘70s, writing among other things the pilot to the original “Charlie’s Angels”.

Seriously, Oscars?: Warner Bros. didn’t have a lot of major contenders at the 22^nd Oscars, but “White Heat” snuck in with one nomination for Virginia Kellogg’s original story, losing to MGM’s baseball biopic “The Stratton Story”. Kellogg would be nominated in the same category the next year for “Caged”, based on her magazine article “Inside Women’s Prison”.

• Surprising no one, the movie Jarrett, Verna, and Ma watch at the drive-in is a Warner Bros. picture: the war film “Task Force” starring Gary Cooper. Now playing at a theater near you!

• This movie is to the Treasury Department what “Double Indemnity” is to insurance investigation. I had no idea working with the Treasury Department is so action-packed. Characters are getting shot in the line of treasury duty!
• Edmond O’Brien is one of those actors who wasn’t on my radar until I started this blog, and he delivers here in a role similar to his work in “The Killers”. “White Heat” was a big turning point in O’Brien’s career, playing the second lead alongside Cagney. Allegedly the only reason O’Brien didn’t get above the title billing in “White Heat” is because Warners didn’t want people to see Cagney & O’Brien on a marquee and think that Cagney was reuniting with his old co-star Pat O’Brien. I can’t confirm that story, but it’s so dumb it just might be true.
• In the film’s second act, things pivot from a cat-and-mouse chase to a prison drama. It’s not a bad change, but it does become a different movie.
• I’ve been on a bit of an “MST3K” run recently, so imagine my surprise when Sid Melton (aka Monkey Boy) shows up here as one of the prisoners. Primarily an actor of TV and cheap B movies, Melton miraculously has two NFR appearances (this and “On the Town”).
• [Spoilers] Unfortunately, both of this film’s iconic moments are major spoilers. The first is Jarrett’s breakdown in the mess hall upon learning about his mother’s death. Jack Warner tried to get Walsh to film the scene in a chapel to save money (smaller set, less extras), but eventually agreed on the original setting, with the proviso the scene be filmed in under three hours. Apparently, Cagney’s unrestrained reaction was a surprise to everyone on set, and it still packs the intended punch today.

• Man, what a bastard Jarrett is. Throughout the movie he leaves one of his men for dead and shoots another one in cold blood, to say nothing of his verbal and physical abuse towards Verna. This level of screen villainy is a fun trade off with the rules of the Code era: We know Jarrett has to pay for his crimes by the end of the movie, so he might as well do as many bad things as possible before he goes.

• After Jarrett’s prison escape, the movie shift gears again and becomes a third movie about the gang planning a payroll heist at a chemical plant in Long Beach. If nothing else, this third gives us Cagney’s modern retelling of the Trojan Horse tale.
• Once Jarrett learns that Vic Pardo is actually Hank Fallon, he starts shouting “A coppah! A coppah!”. Sure that’s one gangster movie way to respond, but this was a missed opportunity for Cagney to call someone “you dirty rat!” It was right there!
• [Spoilers] The film’s most iconic moment is when Jarrett, alone on top of a huge spherical gas tank and surrounded by cops, goes out in a literal blaze of glory: shooting the tank and shouting “Made it Ma! Top of the world!” as he sets off an explosive chain reaction. This ending would be perfect if we didn’t get Hank’s superfluous coda: “He finally got to the top of the world, and it blew up in face.” We know, Hank, we were there too.

• And finally, the Madonna song “White Heat” gets its name from the movie. Some of Cagney’s dialogue from “White Heat” is sampled, and just like the movie, the song doesn’t explain the title either, although I suspect Madonna’s idea of “White Heat” is a little different.