#776) George Stevens’ World War II Footage (1943-1946)

#776) George Stevens’ World War II Footage (1943-1946)

Filmed by George Stevens and the Special Coverage Unit

Class of 2008

“George Stevens’ World War II Footage” can be viewed on the Library of Congress website. For those of you who don’t have 6 1/2 hours to spare, I recommend 1994’s “George Stevens: D-Day to Berlin”, a 45 minute documentary by Stevens’ son George Stevens Jr. For those with even less time, Stevens Jr.’s other documentary about his dad, 1984’s “George Stevens: A Filmmaker’s Journey” contains about 10 minutes of the footage.

As always, this post is about the film, and not the war it is documenting. This write-up is a massive oversimplification of major WWII events, and I encourage you to do further research if any of this interests you.

The Plot: Like many of his Hollywood contemporaries, director George Stevens contributed to the war effort by making films for the US military during World War II. In 1943, Stevens was ordered by General Dwight Eisenhower to recruit 45 people (primarily Hollywood cinematographers and screenwriters) for a Special Coverage Unit (SPECOU) to capture raw footage of the war. Armed with 16mm cameras and Kodachrome color film, Stevens and his team (nicknamed the “Hollywood Irregulars” or the “Stevens Irregulars”) captured over six hours’ worth of footage of the war as it was happening. Highlights of their documentation include the D-Day invasion in Normandy, the liberation of Paris, footage of the Dachau concentration camp a few days after its closure, and the streets of Berlin shortly after the end of the war. “George Stevens’ World War II Footage” is the most comprehensive color documentation of the war known to exist.

Why It Matters: The NFR gives the footage its proper historical context, and declares it “an essential visual record of World War II”.

But Does It Really?: Oh yeah. I am not a WWII expert by any means, but even I can appreciate the rare historic value of this footage. Most WWII footage I’ve seen is in grainy black-and-white, creating a distance between me and the footage, as if to say, “This all happened a long time ago.” But seeing the war in color makes the whole thing more immediate, more alive. It’s also refreshing after watching so much edited propaganda to see raw footage of the war without context or government-sanctioned narratives. This is as close as we’ll ever get to seeing the war as it actually was, and for that alone “George Stevens’ World War II Footage” is an indispensable addition to the NFR.

Other notes

  • Before the war, George Stevens was an up-and-coming director with such hits as “Swing Time” and “Gunga Din” under his belt. Shortly after production wrapped on his comedy “The More the Merrier” in December 1942, Stevens attended a screening of “Triumph of the Will”, and upon seeing the film’s unflinching depiction of Hitler’s power was persuaded to join the war effort. In January 1943, Stevens enlisted with the US Army Signal Corps and was sworn in as a Major (by the end of the war he would achieve the rank of Lieutenant Colonel). 
  • Prior to his SPECOU assignment, Stevens spent the spring of 1943 in Africa, primarily Egypt and Algiers. His brief footage of Africa consists mainly of the sights (including the Sphinx and the pyramids) with some basic training and staged military action mixed in. Stevens transferred to Persia (now Iran) in June, and if he filmed any of his time there, it is not included in the Library of Congress’ online viewing collection.
  • Once SPECOU had been assembled in early 1944, their first major assignment was to film the Normandy landings (aka the D-Day invasion) on June 6th, 1944. Stationed aboard the HMS Belfast, Stevens and his team documented the only known color footage of D-Day, primarily their voyage to and eventual arrival at Normandy. SPECOU also filmed black-and-white footage of the invasion, which was later edited into American newsreels covering D-Day. While nowhere near as frenetic as later reenactments in “Saving Private Ryan” and “The Longest Day”, seeing this footage of D-Day as it really happened is truly a sight to behold.
  • Side note: There are many sources (including George Stevens Jr. in his documentaries) claiming that the Stevens WWII footage is the only color footage of the war in Europe. While color footage of the war is a rarity, let’s not forget William Wyler’s “The Memphis Belle”.
  • On July 4th, 1944, SPECOU covered a ceremony awarding medals to survivors of D-Day attended by several high ranking officers, including Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery, General Omar Bradley, and General George S. Patton! I don’t think I’ve ever seen the real Patton before, and I must say George C. Scott did his homework.
  • Speaking of cameos and guys named George: George Stevens and his fellow filmmakers make several appearances throughout this footage. Stevens can be easily identified: He’s the tall one smoking a pipe and/or instructing the cameraman what to film.
  • After D-Day, Stevens and his team joined up with the 2nd Armored Division headed by General Philipe Leclerc, en route to Paris following news of the city’s successful uprising against the Germans. Upon Leclerc’s arrival in Paris, Nazi Commander Dietrich von Choltitz surrendered to the French, ending Germany’s four year occupation of Paris. A large chunk of “George Stevens’ World War II Footage” is of the liberation of Paris on August 25th, a day Stevens later called “the greatest day of my life”. In addition to footage of Parisians celebrating in the streets, we witness General Charles De Gaulle’s return to Paris for the first time in four years, as well as sniper fire from the handful of Germans who refused to acknowledge the surrender. As far as the Allies were concerned, the Liberation of Paris was the beginning of the end, with SPECOU member Irwin Shaw betting Stevens the war would be over by October. But a surprise attack from the Nazis that December (the Battle of the Bulge), extended the war for the time being.
  • Stuck in Germany in December 1944, Stevens filmed his unit celebrating Christmas, making this one of the last NFR titles I expected to add to my “Die Hard Not-Christmas” list. Of note is a shot of soldiers hanging grenades on their Christmas tree like ornaments, as well as a sequence of Stevens receiving a care package from his family, including letters and plenty of candy. This scene shows Stevens doing something we don’t see him do in any of the other footage: Smile.
  • After a reassignment to London in early 1945 to help with the propaganda film “The True Glory”, Stevens returned to SPECOU in April to document the meeting of US and Soviet soldiers on the Elb river near Torgau. It’s an enjoyable bit of levity in the midst of all this darkness, but it’s still weird to see Americans and Russians getting along. Enjoy it while it lasts, boys.
  • As with any war footage, there are plenty of unsettling images in this collection, including violent attacks and abandoned corpses. Unsurprisingly, the most disturbing, sobering section of this footage is the unit’s documentation of the Dachau concentration camp in late April 1945, mere days after its liberation. As with the rest of the footage, seeing Dachau in color makes the tragedy all the more real, with shots chronicling piles of corpses and the few gaunt survivors, as well as the bodies of Nazi soldiers who had been beaten to death by the inmates following the liberation. Stevens later recalled that the sights at Dachau made him realize the potential of evil hiding inside all of us; that anyone under the right circumstances is capable of the inhumanities the Nazis perpetrated. Stevens spent the rest of 1945 in Germany compiling concentration camp footage to be used as evidence in the Nuremberg trials.
  • Shortly after the surrender of Germany on May 8th 1945 (V-E Day), Stevens and his team reached Berlin. Their footage of Berlin in the immediate aftermath of the war is fascinating. When I think of the end of WWII, I think of big celebrations, of sailors coming home and kissing random women. What this footage showed me was the aftermath of a city that had actually been in battle: streets covered in debris and a city divided into allied occupation, and the seeds of what will one day become the Cold War. The Stevens footage ends with the realization that even when war is over, it’s never over.

Legacy 

  • George Stevens returned to Hollywood in March 1946, stating that “Films were much less important to me, and in a way, perhaps, more important”. Not counting a segment of the anthology film “On Our Merry Way”, Steven’s first post-war film was 1948’s “I Remember Mama”, which took place in 1910s San Francisco, the time and place of Stevens’ childhood. 
  • Steven’s post-war filmography was devoid of the kind of light comedies and adventure pictures he was known for in the 1930s, opting instead for serious fare that examined human ideals. His next three films after “Mama” have all been inducted into the NFR: “A Place in the Sun”, “Shane”, and “Giant”. Among the names found in the credits of these films are screenwriter Ivan Moffat and cinematographer William Mellor, two of the many men who served with Stevens in SPECOU. 
  • Stevens’ only post-war film that dealt directly with the war was 1959’s “The Diary of Anne Frank”. While other war films were considered, Stevens found himself most drawn to “Diary”, especially once he learned that at one point during the war he and his unit were only 100 miles away from the attic in Amsterdam where Frank and her family were hiding.
  • Following Stevens’ death in 1975, his son George Jr. oversaw the restoration of his father’s WWII footage at the American Film Institute. Stevens Jr. would later use this footage in the two documentaries I mentioned at the top of this post.
  • Here’s a recent, weird coda to the “George Stevens: D-Day to Berlin” documentary. It turns out that the film was an edited version of a 1985 special produced for the BBC similarly titled “D-Day to Berlin” by Paul Woolwich and Robert Harris. In 2019, Woolwich and Harris learned of the 1994 “D-Day to Berlin” and sent a request to the Television Academy to launch an investigation of how closely Stevens’ film copied theirs. The Television Academy determined that Steven’s version was indeed a slightly altered version of the BBC documentary, and made the rare decision to rescind the three Emmys and four nominations Stevens’ version received in 1994. (Stevens has never commented publicly about the Academy’s decision).

Further Viewing: I have somehow covered this much NFR wartime propaganda without mentioning “Five Came Back”. Based on the book by Mark Harris, “Five Came Back” is a three-part documentary by Laurent Bouzerau about five Hollywood filmmakers — Frank Capra, John Ford, John Huston, George Stevens, and William Wyler — and their experiences on the front lines making films for the war effort, and how those experiences effected their films after the war. Of the five, John Ford is the only one who doesn’t have at least one of his wartime films on the NFR, which means I should mentally prep myself now for the inevitable inclusion of “The Battle of Midway” or “December 7th“.

#775) Cinderella (1950)

#775) Cinderella (1950)

OR “Slipper? I Hardly Know Her!”

Directed by Wilfred Jackson, Hamilton Luske, Clyde Geronimi

Written by William Peet, Ted Sears, Homer Brightman, Kenneth Anderson, Erdman Penner, Winston Hibler, Harry Reeves, and Joe Rinaldi. Based on the fairy tale by Charles Perrault. Songs by Mack David, Jerry Livingston, and Al Hoffman.

Class of 2018

The Plot: Once upon a time, a lovely young woman named Cinderella (voice by Ilene Woods) is mistreated by her evil stepmother and obnoxious stepsisters (voice by Eleanor Audley, Rhoda Williams, and Lucille Bliss), and forced to wait on them hand and foot. One day the King (voice by Luis van Rooten) announces a royal ball as a homecoming for the Prince (voice by William Edward Phipps), and invites every eligible maiden in the kingdom. Although Cinderella’s animal friends make her a dress for the occasion, it is destroyed by her stepsisters, and Cinderella is left at home the night of the ball. Fortunately, Cinderella has a Fairy Godmother (voice by Verna Felton) who uses her magic to give Cinderella a beautiful gown with slippers made of glass for some reason. Cinderella goes to the ball and falls for the Prince, but at the stroke of midnight…you see where I’m going with this.

Why It Matters: The NFR really loves “Cinderella”, calling it “the definitive version of this classic story”, praising its “[s]parkling songs, high-production value, and bright voice performances”.

But Does It Really?: Oh of course. While not a personal favorite (it didn’t make the VHS rotation too often growing up), “Cinderella” is one of Disney’s undisputed classics. 75 years on, there’s things I could nitpick about – and I will – but ultimately “Cinderella” succeeds as an animated fairy tale and family entertainment. The animation is beautiful, the characters are fun, the songs are catchy, what’s not to love? The only surprising part is that it took the NFR 30 years to get “Cinderella” on the list.

Everybody Gets One: Ilene Woods came to prominence during World War II when she sang with Paul Whiteman and the Army Air Forces Orchestra. In 1944, she briefly had her own radio program on the Blue Network, which shortly thereafter became ABC. In 1948, as a favor to her friends Mack David and Jerry Livingston, Woods recorded three songs the two had written for “Cinderella” as a demo for Walt Disney. Upon hearing the demo recordings, Walt immediately hired Woods as the voice of Cinderella over 300 other women who had auditioned. Although her career peaked with this performance (and she would subsequently sue Disney over the film’s video release), Woods always spoke highly of her time working on “Cinderella”.

Seriously, Oscars?: One of the biggest hits of 1950, “Cinderella” received three Oscar nominations (Song, Sound Recording, and Scoring of a Musical Picture), but went home empty handed. The film did, however, provide one of the ceremony’s highlights, when its nominated song “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo” was performed by comedy duo Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis.

Other notes 

  • The first known version of what would become “Cinderella” dates back to the ancient Greeks’ story of “Rhodopis” about a slave girl who marries the King of Egypt. Various cultures across the centuries had their own “Cinderella” stories (with the name Cinderella coming from English translations of various European versions), but it was Charles Perrault’s adaptation in 1697 that introduced much of the iconography we know today like the pumpkin coach and the glass slippers. The first film adaptation was produced in 1899 by George Méliès, with countless more to follow, including a 1922 animated short by Walt Disney.
  • After staying afloat during WWII with package features, wartime propaganda, and a short about menstruation, Disney needed to get back into the feature film game with a surefire hit. A “Cinderella” feature had been in development since 1946, and was selected over “Alice in Wonderland” and “Peter Pan” to become the studio’s first single-narrative feature since “Bambi”. This decision was made in part because “Cinderella” was developing faster than “Alice” and “Peter”, and in part because, like Walt’s last big hit “Snow White”, “Cinderella” was a fairy tale.
  • In a first for Disney, composers from outside the studio were hired to write the songs for “Cinderella”. Mack David, Jerry Livingston, and Al Hoffman were all part of “Tin Pan Alley”, a group of New York songwriters and publishers responsible for some of America’s most popular music, and the team was hired to help ensure the film’s success. The trio wrote six songs for “Cinderella”, each of them well crafted, but also with lyrics just vague enough that they can work as standalone hits (several of the songs were recorded as singles before the film’s release). The songs are so ingrained in our culture/my head that it was hard for me to hear them for this viewing with a fresh perspective. That being said, I sang along to most of them.
  • After a classic storybook opening (with narration from future Cruella de Vil actor Betty Lou Gerson), we are introduced to Cinderella singing “A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes”, the closest she gets to having an “I Want” song. Side note: If a dream really is a wish your heart makes, does that mean I wish I was back in high school on the day of a big test I didn’t study for?
  • I have several questions about Cinderella’s bird and mice friends. Is she their god? I was also going to question why she makes clothing for all of them, but if I were in a toxic home environment and forced to do labor, I would probably have some weird hobbies too.
  • Unsurprisingly, the story of “Cinderella” is quite short, so this movie needs to pad out the runtime. Like many a Disney film before and after, the extra time is spent focusing on the more entertaining side characters. There’s some fun moments in the literal cat-and-mouse scenes between Jaq, Gus, and Lucifer, but it’s definitely to the detriment of the story. Other adaptations more wisely spend this time fleshing out Cinderella’s character and/or her relationship with the Prince.
  • On a related note, the problem with any version of Cinderella is that she’s too passive a lead: things happen to her, as opposed to her making things happen. At the very least, this film’s characterization of Cinderella (animated by Marc Davis and Eric Larson) is pleasant and likable enough that you are relieved when things finally start to work out for her. 
  • In one early scene, Cinderella is able to calmly reason with Lucifer the cat. This is done to remind you that this film is pure fantasy. Side note: Lucifer’s mewing is provided by voiceover legend June Foray in one of her three NFR appearances, one of which might surprise you.
  • I’m enjoying this film’s lighting effects. So much of Cinderella’s dreary existence is conveyed through darkness and shadows, with the occasional light seeping through. I suspect this was the influence of Disney artist Mary Blair, credited here as part of the film’s “Color and Styling” team. Blair’s visual style, especially in this stage of her career, often included images of darkness with bright elements peppered in for contrast.
  • While not as theatrical as later Disney villains, the Stepmother is a worthy adversary to Cinderella, with her cold, menacing presence and equally chilling voice courtesy of Eleanor Audley. Balancing things out are the comic, but no less threatening, antics of Cinderella’s stepsisters, one of whom sounds like she’s from the Bronx.
  • Sure it’s nice of the animals to make a dress for Cinderella, (and their work song is quite peppy), but I don’t know if I would wear anything made by disease-ridden rodents. If Cinderella’s going to wear that dress, she should have it sterilized as a precaution.
  • I got chills during “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo”, a magic sequence in every sense of the word. My one quibble, turning the mice into horses and then turning the actual horse into a person seems like unnecessary extra work for the Fairy Godmother. And for the record: The jury is still out over whether Charles Perrault intentionally made Cinderella’s slippers glass or if the description got lost in translation. 
  • It was not until this viewing that I realized the Fairy Godmother only appears in one scene. She’s the Beatrice Straight of the Disney canon!
  • This movie really doesn’t care about the Prince. He doesn’t show up until 48 minutes into the movie, gets one song and minimal dialogue before disappearing again until his silent return in the finale. He doesn’t even have a name! The one thing this Prince has going for him is that his singing voice is Mike Douglas, a radio singer about a decade away from hosting his popular daytime talk show.
  • “So This is Love” is an underrated favorite in the catalog of Disney love songs, plus it’s another inner monologue song! We haven’t had one of those in a while.
  • The film’s biggest laugh-out-loud moment for me comes when it acknowledges the fairy tale’s most infamous plot hole. When the King is informed that the glass slipper could fit any number of women, his response, in regards to the Prince, is, “That’s his problem.” Love it.
  • This movie’s third act packs in a lot of tension with Cinderella locked in her room and the mice trying to retrieve the key, even if it further sidelines our heroine in her own movie. I also appreciated the little twist at the end involving the glass slipper before we head off to happily ever after. 

Legacy 

  • “Cinderella” was released in spring 1950 and was the hit Disney needed in order to get out of the red and save the studio. The success of the film (as well as its merchandise and record sales) gave Disney enough financial freedom to explore other projects, including Walt’s long-gestating idea for something called a theme park. Speaking of which…
  • While Cinderella doesn’t have as strong a theme park presence as other Disney favorites do, she does have the castles at both Walt Disney World and Tokyo Disneyland named in her honor. I’m fighting every instinct in my body not to make this a post about Tokyo Disneyland’s Cinderella Castle Mystery Tour. What the hell was that?
  • But of course, Disney will run any major IP of theirs into their perpetual synergy machine, and “Cinderella” is no exception. The film received two direct-to-video sequels in the 2000s, with “Cinderella III: A Twist in Time” routinely considered the best of the direct-to-video sequels, which really isn’t that high a mark.
  • When Disney started churning out live-action remakes of its animated films in the early 2010s, “Cinderella” was one of the first proverbial canaries in that coal mine. Directed by Kenneth Branagh and jumpstarting Lily James’ career, 2015’s “Cinderella” is a respectful updating of the Disney original, never stooping to the kind of pandering fan service that would plague later remakes.
  • Characters from “Cinderella” have made many appearances in Disney media over the years, most notably Cinderella’s cameo in “Ralph Breaks the Internet”, in which she receives something she’s never had before: Ears.
  • Despite Disney’s version of “Cinderella” being declared the definitive film adaptation of the story, I still hold firm that distinction goes to “Ever After” with Drew Barrymore. And no, that is not a joke.

2001: An NFR Odyssey

December 18th, 2001: With perhaps their least impressive press release to date, the Library of Congress announces the next 25 films to make the National Film Registry, bringing the total to 325 movies. Having just finished watching all 25, it’s time for me to take a look back at my writings on the NFR Class of 2001: 

The Evidence of the Film (1913): “one of the sole survivors from the short-lived Thanhouser Company film library.”

Miss Lulu Bett (1921): “neither wows nor bores in its presentation”, “on the NFR list because it survived”

It (1927): “a perfect encapsulation of the ‘20s flapper era” “has a certain…enticement?…allure?”

Rose Hobart (1936): “[a] deconstruction of a Hollywood ‘product’ into an ethereal examination of obsession.”

Cologne: From the Diary of Ray and Ester (1939): “paints quite the picture of small-town Americana”.

Marian Anderson: The Lincoln Memorial Concert (1939): “a historical pass, but the corresponding NBC radio broadcast of the concert is a much better documentation.”

Jam Session (1942): “gets a pass for its representation of the Soundies.” “pave[d] the way for the modern music video.”

Stormy Weather (1943): “an outstanding array of African-American talent”

The Memphis Belle: A Story of a Flying Fortress (1944): “[William] Wyler’s key contribution to the war effort”

The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek (1944): “a sweet, funny little slice of Americana with a lot of meat on its bones.”

Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948): “Abbott & Costello’s iconic filmography and pitch-perfect timing are more than deserving of NFR recognition.”

All the King’s Men (1949): “a bit muddled and confusing, but…has enough political bite to warrant a viewing”

The Thing From Another World (1951): “a taut, thrilling film”, “Kudos to the director, whoever it may be.”

The Tell-Tale Heart (1953): “a new style of animation for UPA”, “the reason I’m not sleeping tonight.”

The House in the Middle (1954): “How did this make the NFR before the definitive Cold War short, ‘Duck and Cover’?”

America America (1963): “isn’t Elia Kazan’s greatest film, nor his most memorable, but it is definitely his most personal.”

The Sound of Music (1965): “not only one of the most delightful musicals ever, but one of the most delightful movies, period.”

Planet of the Apes (1968): “one of the best science-fiction movies ever made.”

Serene Velocity (1970): “The NFR loves them some avant-garde filmmaking”, “take some Dramamine beforehand.”

Jaws (1975): “still one of the best crafted action movies ever made and a landmark in film history.”

National Lampoon’s Animal House (1978): “at times side-splittingly funny.”

All That Jazz (1979): “the film’s legacy isn’t so much the film itself, but rather the insight into one of last century’s greatest artists.”

Manhattan (1979): “perhaps the film’s retroactive controversy is reason enough for preservation.”

Hoosiers (1986): “its inspirational spirit and love of the game is flawless”, “one of the greats of the feel-goods.”

The Thin Blue Line (1988): “definitive proof that movies can change the world.”

Other notes

  • Maybe it’s just my elder millennial viewpoint, but I can’t help but look at the Class of 2001 through the lens of 9/11. While the NFR’s official press release for that year makes no reference to the attacks, I can’t help but feel like this class of inductees was influenced by those events. At least four of these movies take place in part or in whole in New York City, most notably “Manhattan”, a full-length love letter to the city. There’s also films that harken back to a seemingly simpler time in America and/or lean heavily on very pro-American themes. While two of the films on this list highlight corruption and flaws in our political and judicial systems, most of the better-known titles are iconic crowd-pleasers and laugh-out-loud comedies that could no doubt lift your spirits after a national tragedy. And topping it all off is the superfluously patriotic “America America”, a story about immigration and the American dream: two things this country used to care about. Alright, rant over, back to the movies.
  • My writings about the Class of 2001 are mixed to positive. Aside from the big headliners on the list, I couldn’t muster up a lot of excitement for these films, giving many of them a pass for historical or cultural significance. That being said, I always enjoy the excuse to look back on my own writing because I learn a lot about myself. Past Me helped speed up that process this time by including a list of my favorite things at the end of Part 2 of the “Sound of Music” post.
  • Also, weirdly in two of these posts I slam Seth MacFarlane’s Oscar hosting gig. I mean, it wasn’t great, but I don’t remember hating it that much.
  • A bit of trivia: Both “The Sound of Music” and “Jaws” were at one point the highest-grossing movie of all time.
  • When the Class of 2001 was announced, the Tom Cruise film “Vanilla Sky” was number one at the US box office. Surprisingly, no movies currently in the NFR were playing in theaters (the first “Lord of the Rings” film would begin its theatrical run on December 19th), but there were such notable titles as “Ocean’s Eleven”, “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone”, “Monsters, Inc.”, “The Royal Tenenbaums”, and “Training Day”. Coincidentally also playing in theaters, Tim Burton’s remake of “Planet of the Apes”. 
  • Only a few double dippers this year: Actors Karen Allen, Roy Scheider, and Wallace Shawn, producer Adolph Zukor, cinematographer Leon Shamroy, composer Jerry Goldsmith, and costume designer Albert Wolsky. This list almost included Richard Dreyfuss in lieu of Scheider, as Dreyfuss was originally cast as Joe Gideon in “All That Jazz” before bowing out.
  • Thematic double-dippers: 1979 New York, experimental films at a 16 fps frame rate, the U.S. Air Force, films loosely based on historic events, complicated love triangles, women flouting archaic conventions, movies that got 20th Century Fox out of the red in the 1960s, super talented Black artists, people fighting Nazis, and climactic scenes involving the Statue of Liberty.
  • Favorites of my own subtitles: Spinster Act, Dude Where’s My Husband?, When Directors Collide, My Big Fat Greek Emigration, Nun Better, Monkey See Monkey Doomed, Shark From Adversity, and 5-6-7-8 1/2!
  • Speaking of subtitles: Yes, I am breaking my tradition of subtitling these retrospective posts from a hit song of the same year, but come on, if I didn’t go for the “2001” reference, what are we even doing here? If forced to pick a hit song from 2001 for this post…I don’t know, “Bootylicious”? 
  • And finally, a reminder that “Serene Velocity” is missing from the NFR’s “Brief Descriptions and Expanded Essays” page. Can some LoC intern get on that, please?

As always, thanks for reading, happy viewing, and please keep taking care of each other.

Tony

#774) Serene Velocity (1970)

#774) Serene Velocity (1970)

OR “Gehr and Far”

Directed by Ernie Gehr

Class of 2001

The Plot: The avant-garde practice of structural filmmaking comes to the NFR with Ernie Gehr’s “Serene Velocity”. Filmed in a basement hallway at Binghamton University, “Serene Velocity” is a static shot of the hallway at night, with changes in the focal length showing you less and more of the hallway, edited to alternate between smaller and wider focal lengths. While the contrast is minimal at first, by the end of the film you find yourself seemingly zooming back and forth from one end of the hallway to another. Even Ernie Gehr felt nauseous after first seeing it!

Why It Matters: We have an historic first for the blog: “Serene Velocity” has accidentally been left off the NFR’s page of inductee descriptions and essays! While I was able to find the Library of Congress’ press release for the NFR Class of 2001, it does not include descriptions for each inducted film beyond its release date and primary cast and crew. But I’m sure someone in the Library had something nice to say about “Serene Velocity”, right?.

But Does It Really?: The NFR loves them some avant-garde filmmaking, and while most of these filmmakers are unknown to your average moviegoer, Ernie Gehr is legendary within the experimental film community, and his breakthrough work in “Serene Velocity” is an appropriate selection to represent his filmography. This all being said, it is 23 minutes of a hallway, spiced up with editing that is equal parts measured and unrestrained. It’s like if one of Andy Warhol’s movies was edited to look like “The Wild Bunch”. If you’re watching this at home to cross it off your NFR list, take some Dramamine beforehand.

Everybody Gets One: We don’t know a lot about Ernie Gehr’s early years, other than he was inspired to become a filmmaker after seeing the films of Stan Brakhage while living in New York in the 1960s. While teaching at New York’s Binghamton University in 1970, Gehr was walking down the hallway in the film department’s basement and was inspired by its cold, plain appearance to film his next short there. “Serene Velocity” was shot over the course of one evening on a 16mm film camera, with Gehr changing the camera’s focal length by increments of 5 mm throughout the shoot. Following the shoot, Gehr’s fingers had become swollen from hours of manually pressing the release button for each frame.

Wow, That’s Dated: Towards the end of the film, we see a bowl-shaped object attached to the right side wall of the hallway. At first I thought this was a drinking fountain, but other write-ups believe it to be an ashtray. It is so bizarre to think of a time when smoking was so commonplace we built ashtrays into our structures.

Title Track: I will argue that “Serene Velocity” is neither serene nor does it execute velocity in the truest definition of the word. Discuss.

Seriously, Oscars?: If this blog has taught me anything, it’s that experimental films don’t get Oscar nominations. I’d be amazed if the Oscars knew experimental films even existed. For the record: the Oscar for Live-Action Short Subject in 1970 went to “The Resurrection of Broncho Billy”…whatever the hell that is.

Other notes 

  • A quick word about structural film: This subgenre of experimental film came into vogue in the mid 1960s thanks to films like Tony Conrad’s “The Flicker” and Michael Snow’s “Wavelength”. While difficult to characterize, most examples of structural film are films captured at a fixed point, typically in some sort of minimalist setting, with the only movement coming from how the film is edited, often creating a flicker effect. “Serene Velocity” definitely checks off those boxes. We’ll learn more about structural film (and the role Library of Congress paper prints played in the movement) when I get around to covering Ken Jacobs’ “Tom, Tom, the Piper’s Son”.
  • Another technical note about “Serene Velocity”: Gehr opted to screen the film at 16 fps, so that each frame appears on screen longer (each “shot” in the film is 4 frames). While “Serene Velocity” has a runtime of 23 minutes, there are versions of the film online that run about 15 minutes, most likely because it’s being played at the standard 24 fps frame rate. I imagine watching the 24 fps version is more seizure inducing that the 16 fps version.
  • As with most experimental films, “Serene Velocity” is not a piece of entertainment, but rather a piece of art you watch and observe. As the film progresses, its juxtaposition of focal lengths becomes somewhat hypnotic. For me, it felt like an optical illusion, or like the most intense eye exam ever. “Better 1 or 2 or 1 or 2 or 1 or 2…”
  • This hallway could definitely use some artwork or at least a plant. Apparently this was the hallway Gehr would walk down to get to the editing room at Binghamton, so maybe a few film posters on the wall to brighten things up?
  • The floor reflection of the overhead lights kinda looks like the robot from “The Black Hole”. BO.B.? Maybe V.I.N.CENT. You may be wondering “Why a ‘Black Hole’ reference?” and to that I say “This film is 23 minutes of a hallway, what the hell else is there to talk about?”
  • As we get closer to (and further away from) the double doors at the end of the hallway, you can see daylight beginning to seep through. And that’s as close as this film gets to any sort of narrative.
  • If you think about it, this film has pretty much the same plot as that Grover bit from “Sesame Street”. “This is near…this is far!”

Legacy 

  • “Serene Velocity” played at a number of museums and festivals in 1970, including San Francisco’s First International Erotic Film Festival! The film was well received upon these initial screenings, and has since gained a reputation as an important example of structural filmmaking. For the record: Gehr objects to his films being called “structural”, arguing that the term and similar labels “stop people from actually seeing, actually experiencing the work.”
  • Ernie Gehr continued making films in New York until his move to San Francisco in the 1990s, where he taught film at the San Francisco Art Institute. As of this writing, Gehr is still with us, experimenting with digital filmmaking and making appearances at various career retrospectives (including last year at MoMA).

#773) The Pride of the Yankees (1942)

#773) The Pride of the Yankees (1942)

OR “Lou’s on First”

Directed by Sam Wood

Written by Jo Swerling and Herman J. Mankiewicz. Story by Paul Gallico.

Class of 2024

The Plot: Gary Cooper IS Lou Gehrig, the New York Yankees’ legendary first baseman, nicknamed “The Iron Horse” due to his incredible batting average and his then-record of over 2100 consecutive games. We follow Gehrig from his childhood dream of becoming a baseball player, to his early success in the minor leagues (much to the disapproval of his mother [Elsa Janssen]), and his legendary 16 year run with the Yankees. Gehrig quickly establishes himself as a fan favorite, especially with Eleanor Twitchell (Teresa Wright), a Chicago socialite Gehrig woos and eventually weds. But just as things are looking up for Gehrig and his new bride, Lou notices a sharp decline in his physical ability to play the game, receiving a grim diagnosis of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (aka ALS, aka Lou Gehrig’s disease). Despite only being given a few months to live, Gehrig perseveres, giving a farewell address at Yankee Stadium declaring himself “the luckiest man on the face of the earth”.

Why It Matters: The NFR gives a summary of the movie, Lou Gehrig, and the final scene, with the film being declared “[o]ne of the seminal sports films that has inspired audiences for decades”.

But Does It Really?: This is definitely a minor classic. Overall, the film is fine; it holds up well and has some good performances, but there’s definitely some trimming that should have happened to bring this thing in under two hours. Released in theaters just over a year after Lou Gehrig’s passing, the film is clearly coming from a place of love, and although it plays fast and loose with some historical events, it manages to avoid feeling too clichéd or treacly. With its iconic final speech and Gehrig’s ongoing legacy, “Pride of the Yankees” was going to make the NFR at some point, but as you can tell there was no rush, with the film spending 35 years in the NFR dugout before finally making it to bat (or something like that; baseball metaphors aren’t my strong suit).

Seriously, Oscars?: One of the biggest hits of the year, “Pride of the Yankees” received 11 Oscar nominations, one nod behind that year’s eventual Best Picture winner, “Mrs. Miniver”. While “Yankees” lost most of its nominations to “Miniver” (which, coincidentally, also starred Teresa Wright), it took home one trophy for Daniel Mandell’s editing. Director Sam Wood wasn’t nominated for “Yankees” because he was already nominated in the Best Director category for the drama “Kings Row”.

Other notes 

  • Samuel Goldwyn secured the film rights to Lou Gehrig’s life story in July 1941, about six weeks after Gehrig’s passing. Goldwyn was initially reluctant to make a Gehrig biopic (he was not a baseball fan), but was persuaded after seeing the newsreel footage of Gehrig’s farewell speech. Eleanor Gehrig was involved in the film’s production as a consultant, and Gary Cooper was her first choice to play her late husband (with Spencer Tracy an approved back-up).
  • A few interesting things in the opening credits: After the obligatory thanks for “Mrs. Lou Gehrig” as well as Ed Barrow of the Yankees and Gehrig’s agent Christy Walsh, we get Sam Wood’s director credit, which oddly shares the screen with William Cameron Menzies’ art direction credit. Huh? We also get a written prologue saluting Gehrig attributed to Damon Runyon, who as far as I can tell made no other contribution to the film’s script. Maybe he was a fan.
  • The first chunk of the movie is Gehrig’s childhood in East Harlem with his German immigrant parents (even though they’re Swedish in the movie). It’s standard biopic stuff, but it sets up the rest of the movie well enough. Fun Fact: Douglas Croft (the kid playing young Lou) would go on to play Dick Grayson/Robin in the first “Batman” film serial in 1943.
  • The film rests on Gary Cooper’s performance, and unsurprisingly Coop uses his natural charm to deliver a winning performance. His Lou can be strong when he needs to be, but is equally endearing in his shy, awkward phase. My one quibble: during filming Cooper was three years older than Gehrig was when he died. This is especially noticeable when 40 year old Cooper plays Gehrig in his university days. 
  • Like his producer, Gary Cooper was not a baseball fan and essentially had to learn how to play the game from scratch. A longstanding story is that Cooper (who was right-handed) was filmed batting with his right and running to third base, with the footage flipped optically to match the left-handed Gehrig. This has been debunked in recent years, with evidence that Cooper learned to bat left-handed. Only one brief shot of Cooper throwing a ball right-handed was flipped, with all other throwing shots were achieved in wide shots with a double: baseball player Floyd “Babe” Herman who was slumming it in the minors at the time of filming.
  • In one of his rare non-Western NFR appearances, Walter Brennan plays reporter Sam Blake, a composite of several reporters who covered Gehrig, including Fred Lieb, a close friend of Gehrig’s. This has got to be Brennan’s least Walter Brennan-y performance ever; there’s nary a “dagnabbit” in sight, consarn it!
  • I wasn’t expecting the recurring subplot about Gehrig’s mom disapproving of his profession or his marriage. This was apparently true of the real life Anna Gehrig (referred to only as “Mom” or “Mama” in the film), who successfully chased away Lou’s girlfriends before Eleanor showed up.
  • Mama Gehrig describes America as “a wonderful country where everybody has an equal chance”. Who wants to break it to her?
  • Once Gehrig joins the Yankees, several of Gehrig’s real-life teammates appear playing themselves, including Babe Ruth! Like his fellow ball players, Ruth is no actor, but he’s good here, though admittedly he doesn’t have to do much except be charming and swing a bat every now and then. Unfortunately, Ruth was in bad physical health throughout the shoot, which caused some production delays.
  • I think the movie’s biggest inaccuracy is that despite several scenes in the Yankees dugout, there’s no scratching or spitting from anyone.
  • It’s been a minute since we’ve covered a Teresa Wright movie on this blog. As always, Wright is her usual, charming, proto-Eva Marie Saint self, in only her third movie! Eleanor Gehrig had wanted Barbara Stanwyck or Jean Arthur to play her, but was eventually won over by Wright. Side note: Eleanor is a co-lead/supporting role, but Teresa Wright was already competing in the Oscars’ Supporting category for “Mrs. Miniver” (which she would eventually win), so she got bumped up to Lead Actress, losing to her “Miniver” co-star Greer Garson.
  • On one of Lou and Eleanor’s first dates, they go to a nightclub and watch a lengthy dance number by Veloz & Yolanda that goes on forever and has nothing to do with anything. Frank Veloz & Yolanda Casazza were a husband and wife dance team performing in New York at the time of filming, and producer Samuel Goldwyn insisted on the two appearing in “Pride of the Yankees” because he worried that women would be otherwise uninterested in a baseball movie. When I think of scenes that could have been cut to shorten the runtime, this scene is number one with a bullet.
  • The dance number is followed by a performance of Irving Berlin’s “Always” by Ray Noble and His Orchestra. While equally superfluous as Veloz & Yolanda, “Always” becomes the film’s leitmotif for Lou and Eleanor’s romance, playing in the underscore and/or being hummed by our leads throughout the rest of the movie.
  • Most of Gehrig’s career successes are touched upon via a montage of clipped-out newspaper headlines in Eleanor’s scrapbook. What a convenient hobby for Eleanor to take up for the purposes of narrative pacing. I guess it would have taken too long for her to knit all those headlines.
  • As well made as this movie is, it never feels like it’s leading towards anything. Of course the ALS diagnosis is as unexpected here as it was in real life, but that doesn’t happen until three-quarters of the way through the movie. Up to that point the movie just feels like it’s meandering from one biographical highlight to the next. On a related note, it occurred to me during this viewing that the NFR doesn’t have a lot of quote-unquote “terminal illness movies” on the list. The only one I can think of off-hand is “Knute Rockne”, but that’s a subplot in the middle of the movie.
  • The only scene I knew about going in was Lou’s farewell address at Yankee Stadium’s Lou Gehrig Day on July 4th, 1939. It’s appropriately stirring, and I respect the decision to not include any underscoring while Gehrig is talking. I didn’t realize this was the last scene in the movie; he calls himself “the luckiest man on the face of the earth”, walks off the field, and roll credits! Director Sam Wood fought for this ending, rather than the studio-preferred version with a final kiss between Lou and Eleanor.

Legacy 

  • “Pride of the Yankees” was released in summer 1942, and went on to be RKO’s highest grossing release of the year. Unfortunately, due to Samuel Goldwyn’s distribution fee, the film ended up losing money. This was apparently par for the course with RKO’s Goldwyn films, and the studio continued to distribute Goldwyn’s movies for another decade.
  • The “luckiest man” speech has received plenty of parodies over the years, but my favorite will always be Norm Macdonald on “Saturday Night Live”. “I was being…sarcastic.”
  • Lou Gehrig has several memorials and tributes named after him, including MLB’s annual Lou Gehrig Memorial Award, which has been given out every year since 1955, including on five occasions to players with the New York Yankees.
  • After her husband’s death, Eleanor Gehrig spent the rest of her life managing Lou’s estate and raising awareness of ALS. In 1976, Eleanor wrote the memoir “My Luke and I”, which became the 1978 TV movie “A Love Affair: The Eleanor and Lou Gehrig Story”, starring Blythe Danner and Edward Herrmann. Although Eleanor lived another 43 years after Lou’s death, she never remarried, writing in her memoir “I would not have traded two minutes of my life with that man for forty years with another.”

Further Viewing: “How to Play Baseball”, the Goofy cartoon that preceded “Pride of the Yankees” during its original theatrical run. Apparently Samuel Goldwyn requested Disney make a baseball short for this movie, and “How to Play Baseball” was completed in just under three months to meet the “Pride” release date.