Uh huh...

...another all time classic.  This is two of America's favorite films in a row.  A little hint.  This bloc of 10 films also includes "Psycho," and "Gone With the Wind."  We're hitting some seriously viewed, iconic films in the nearish future.  Throw in "Goodfellas," and "Blade Runner," and we're looking at some films that have some major fan bases.

Getting close to halfway through the AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition) in what will be just over 14 months.

This one...now I KNOW you've seen this one.

Film 47

47.  "The Wizard Of Oz" (AFI Rank #10)

Hey, look at that.  Found another film in the top 10.  It is odd, I must confess, to watch films that are such a part of the fabric of our life, then comment on them.  I feel as if I'm cheating a bit.  What does one say about "The Wizard of Oz?"   We're talking about a film that I've seen dozens of times, from as far back as I can remember.  We're talking about a film whose broadcast on television was an event in our home, nearly every damned time it was on.  We're talking about a film that YOU'VE likely seen dozens of times, and probably exactly the way my family watched it.  We're talking about an icon.

Yeah.  We are.

Watching this film the other night, I was struck by how easy it is to take so much of it for granted.  Yet, while watching it, I suddenly stopped all that crap and just sat in wonder about what was created in the days before CGI.  This film...this film is a wonder.  That it continues to so thoroughly entertain audiences 76 years after its release is a testament not only to its story, to its characters, and to its message, it is a testament to its merit as a film.  It's grand cinema.  It's...I hate to say it about something SO populist...but this is art.  Art.  Directed by Victor Fleming, (mostly) this film is an amazing piece of art.  Absolutely amazing.

Let's look at some of the things that are so masterful about this film.  The opening and closing framework to the Oz sequences being shot in sepia tones, dull and lifeless, yet somehow sentimental and warm.  Kansas feels like someplace we don't want to be at first, but by the end, we yearn, like Dorothy does, for the comfort of home.  The sepia tone, combined with the lack of motorized vehicles (betcha didn't notice that), makes the film seem to take place long before 1939.  Indeed, the opening title card reads:

 "For nearly forty years this story has given faithful service to the Young in Heart; and Time has been powerless to put its kindly philosophy out of fashion.  

To those who have been faithful to it in return

...and to the Young in Heart --- we dedicate this picture."  

We also see no electricity.  No phone wires. We're meant to believe that this is in the past.  However, references to the dust bowl, with the "twister," and indeed, the overall depressed nature of the film...well.  Maybe the film is meant to be fantastically timeless.  Modern enough in its opening and closing to make viewers relate, but somehow sentimental enough that those seeing it in 1939 would realize that it's from a time a while ago.  Kinda like "Pulp Fiction," with its cell phones and The Wolf's car somehow contradicting the overall 1970s vibe of the rest of the film.  Damn.  If you'd told me that at any point in my life I'd tie "Pulp Fiction" to "The Wizard of Oz," well.  I damn sure would not have believed you.

Of course, we know that the film is a musical.  And we get that right from the start, with the magnificent performance of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" by the during-the-time-of-filming then 16 year old Judy Garland.  How that young woman sang like that...well.  I'm going to come out and say it.  That song is usually cited as the best song to come out of film.  Know why?

BECAUSE IT IS.

We want to see Dorothy find a place of her own.   We want her to escape the dreariness of her life in Kansas, and pursue her dreams.  We want to see her grow up and find all the wonder in the world.  We want to see her life somehow transformed into a life that is lived in stunning...technicolor.

And the film satisfies that.  The sets, of course, are amazing.  Yes, you can most assuredly tell that the film is shot on a soundstage for all of its Oz sequences.  Hell, when Dorothy starts on her journey down the Yellow Brick Road, as the Munchkins wave goodbye, you are practically screaming at her to stop before she runs into the matte painting that you can totally see where it meets the "ground."  Know what?  The camera shot cuts before she breaks stride.  So, we buy it.  And that's important.  We're asked to believe that gallons of paint and scads of plastic, along with some really fake tree costumes are somehow a mystical world.  And we do.  We believe it wholeheartedly.  It was fun to watch and try and figure out how many sets were shot from different angles, yet the same path, with maybe with a few small alterations.  It is also odd to think, that in an era when people were struggling to feed their families, that so much time/money was spent on building a pretend world that appeared for so little time.  Weeks were spent on the Munchkin sequence.  Know how long it is?  Like 14 minutes, or about 10% of the film.  That's excess.  That's Hollywood.

Which brings me to another point.  I often try and find photos for use in these essays that are perhaps a little obscure.  Try doing that for "The Wizard of Oz."  Everything about this film feels familiar.  I couldn't find photos that felt obscure.  I especially couldn't find photos like that to talk about another piece of wizardry (see what I did there?) from this film...the makeup.  At no point did I not believe that Ray Bolger's Scarecrow makeup was...makeup.  Same with the Cowardly Lion.  Same with the Tin Man.  Hell, the fucking Munchkins look right.  The makeup is amazing.

This is getting long (that's what she said), and I want to wrap it up, but I've hardly touched on the performances.  Everyone in this is fantastic.  Of course, Ray Bolger, Jack Haley, and Burt Lahr are now indelibly placed in our consciousness.  However, a few performances stood out to me, though.  Margaret Hamilton, while spewing lines that just seem to repeat ad infinitum, is terrifying as the Wicked Witch of the West/Miss Gulch.  You can say what you like to about her as a character in other sources.  In this film, she's bad, and she's bad from jump street, and never changes.  There is no redemption in her, no reason to question why she's so bad.  She just is.  Judy Garland is also spectacular.  Showing a maturity and world weariness far beyond what any 16 year old should possess, Garland plays Dorothy to the hilt.  She's tremendous.

I want to comment on Frank Morgan in a bit more detail.  I just got done directing a show in which I had one woman play 8 roles, even though they were written for different actors.  I did this for several reasons, the first of which was to make the role more appealing...and to make it easier for me to cast.  But, what it afforded me was an opportunity to have that actor, who was playing the protagonist's ex-wife (in flashback) first, make it appear as if every woman our protagonist dated was somehow just a facet of that ex-wife.  Which leads me to Frank Morgan.  He plays all the main characters in Emerald City.  And yet, none of them ever appear in scene together.  I found out, through research, that this was done in an attempt to even out screen time.  However...what if, just what if, Oz is actually dressing himself as all these people?  There are portions of this where Oz's voice and mannerisms appear, especially as the guard at the chamber.  So.  Maybe, just maybe, Oz is keeping tabs on the intruders into his land, by interacting with them.  Want proof?  Oz, as the Wizard, correctly identifies what each pilgrim wants him to deliver to them...but he's never met them before, and he's...he's a sham.  Dammit.  Should I have said *SPOILER*?  So, how did Oz get this knowledge...unless it was him at the doors, or driving the Horse of a Different Color?  I'm going with it.  And now, I love the film that much more.  Because that's what I see.  And isn't that what the film is trying to tell us?  Life is really just all in the way you look at it?

I've rambled on long enough.  You know the film.  You've watched it, and now I just did recently.  Perhaps when you watch it the next time, you can view it as art.  Perhaps you'll get caught up in the fantasy.  Perhaps you won't.  Whatever.  You'll watch it, and it will catch you up in SOMETHING.  And that, my friends, is what makes it great.

Hey.  Roger Ebert and I talk about similar things again!  HOORAY!  His take is here.  I like the fact that I hint at things that Roger explores much more deeply, and I get sad that you read the musings of a far inferior writer when reading this blog.  I'm having fun doing this, but I wish that I could be as eloquent as Roger was.  Maybe he edited his stuff...I don't.

Bah.  Thanks for reading.