Tag Archives: judy garland

Falling in love with Gene Kelly is just so hard to do (… not).

Posted on by under blogathon, classic pairings, cmba blogathon, magnificent musicals

Joe: “We’re trying to tell a story with music, and song, and dance. Well, not just with words. For instance, if the boy tells the girl that he loves her, he just doesn’t say it, he sings it.”
Jane: “Why doesn’t he just say it?”
Joe: “Why? Oh, I don’t know, but it’s kind of nice.”

Jane Falbury (Judy Garland), part of a long and proud lineage of Falbury farmers, struggles to make ends meet: the farm is not doing as well as in years past, and her farmhands have decided to leave for better-paying jobs. One day, her aspiring actress sister, Abigail (Gloria De Haven) comes home with a full theater troupe in tow. Abigail has promised her beau, Joe Ross (Gene Kelly), the director of the group, that they could use the barn to rehearse and stage their new musical production. Despite Jane’s better judgment–and the objections of her housekeeper, Esme (Marjorie Main), her longtime fiance Orville (Eddie Bracken), and his overbearing father (Ray Collins)–she allows them to stay, provided the members of the troupe help out around the farm.

In the wake of a disastrous barn dance overrun by the theater troupe–and after Joe’s buddy, bumbling Herb Blake (Phil Silvers), inadvertently destroys Jane’s new tractor–she decides to order the group away. But Jane is touched when the actors pool their meager funds and Joe sells his station wagon to buy her a new tractor. She again agrees to let them stay, and gradually finds herself falling in love with Joe, even though he has an understanding with Abigail, and she remains reluctantly engaged to Orville. But when Abigail develops a diva-like attitude and runs off to Broadway with the musical’s star (Hans Conried), Jane is thrust into the starring role opposite Joe, and the two of them can no longer deny their feelings as the show goes on …

Summer Stock (1950) was a notoriously difficult and troubled production, but as a product of the MGM musical dream factory, naturally none of this turmoil showed onscreen. As filming commenced, Judy Garland had just left rehab (which she had entered in an effort to quell her drug addiction), and was still considered something of a risk–with good reason, as her erratic behavior and habitual lateness had previously cost her roles in films such as The Barkleys of Broadway (1949) and Annie Get Your Gun (1950). The shoot eventually ran overlong (a total of six months). The movie marked her final film for longtime home studio MGM; she was fired from Royal Wedding (1951) later that year, terminating her contract.

In completing Summer Stock, Garland was fortunate to have the support of her friends, including studio head Louis B. Mayer (who kept her in the role despite the troubles she presented) and her male lead, Gene Kelly. The film marks the third and final onscreen pairing for Garland and Kelly; the two first appeared together in Kelly’s screen debut, 1942′s For Me and My Gal, and then co-starred in The Pirate six years later. By most accounts, Garland and Kelly got on well; according to Garland biographer John Fricke, Kelly (who remained grateful for the help seasoned film actress Garland gave him on the set of Gal) agreed to do the film primarily as a favor to the actress, and in the process brought his own touch to the production. Though Nick Castle was credited as the dance director for the film, some of the best numbers from the film (notably “You, Wonderful You” and its reprises) were very obviously choreographed by Kelly.

“You, Wonderful You” is the cornerstone musical piece of the film, marking the evolution of the love story between Jane and Joe. Its initial appearance in the film occurs as Jane first begins to open up to Joe, and its staging is quite similar to “You Were Meant for Me” in Singin’ in the Rain (1952)–the two characters on an empty stage, lit by soft spotlights as the male lead sings of his love, before segueing into a delicate pas de deux. It’s lovemaking, set to music–beautiful, heartfelt, emotional–and Kelly’s relatively soft, romantic performance here is nothing short of mesmerizing (let’s face facts: the man’s a veritable dreamboat).

Kelly revisits “You, Wonderful You” (sans lyrics) in the famous “newspaper number,” a dance that demonstrates the full depths of the actor’s charm. Accompanied at first only by the squeak of a floorboard, the scratch of a newspaper on the floor, his own tapping shoes, and an intermittent whistling reprise of the tune, Kelly constructs an intricate solo ballet.

Initially, he makes his own music through the motions of his body and the instrumentation of his props, but as Kelly gives himself full over to the sheer joy of movement, the orchestra creeps in, rising into a crescendo of sound that mimics the increasingly frenetic pacing of the dance. This number perfectly captures Kelly’s innate understanding of the importance of lighting and staging in conveying the meaning of the dance to the audience; when Kelly jumps atop a stack of boxes and dances alongside his shadow cast on the nearby wall, the lovely contrast between light and dark, man and shadow, reflects Kelly’s inner turmoil over his growing feelings for Jane (in this way, it could be said that Kelly’s dance with the newspaper is at least somewhat reminiscent of his dance with his own reflection in 1944′s Cover Girl).

The other memorable number from Summer Stock (one which was not designed by either Kelly or Castle, but instead by the film’s director, Charles Walters), “Get Happy,” had been added to the film three months after shooting was completed, as a showpiece for a magically slimmed-down Garland. And yes, though it’s been harped on repeatedly over the years, one must admit that the actress’ appearance in this scene is a little jarring, considering she was noticeably heavier in her previous (and subsequent) scenes. Still, Garland’s performance in “Get Happy” has become legendary in its own right, and marks one of the best musical numbers of her career (which is saying something, considering how many iconic moments she has given us).

Admittedly, Summer Stock is largely a Judy Garland vehicle–it was designed that way, after all, as a kind of comeback after a couple of trying years for the actress. But Kelly’s contributions are equally important–if not more so–to the film’s success. Had Garland’s original intended co-star in the film, Mickey Rooney, played the part of Joe, we might not now remember this movie as one of the great classic musicals. It took the extra-special touch of Gene Kelly’s brilliant, bold choreography (not to mention his delightfully cheeky grin and … other endowments) and that sparkling chemistry with Garland to make Summer Stock the wholly entertaining film that it remains to this day.

 

This post is an entry in the Gene Kelly Centennial Blogathon, hosted by the Classic Movie Blog Association. Visit the CMBA site for a full list of participants.

A little bit o’ Buster in the good ol’ summertime.

Posted on by under hahas, loving lucy, magnificent musicals

This post is our small contribution to Project Keaton, a month-long celebration of all things Buster Keaton. Check out The Kitty Packard Pictorial for more information, and see the Project Keaton Tumblr site for contributions from other bloggers and participating writers from around the world!

By the 1940s, Buster Keaton’s days as one of the giants of silent film were long over. It would take another couple of decades for the genius of his early work to gain the critical appreciation it enjoys now. In the meantime, Keaton existed in a kind of cinematic limbo. While on contract with MGM–the studio where he had found such great success with silent classics The Navigator (1924) and The Cameraman (1928)–he spent much of his time as a gag writer, preparing and choreographing bits for other performers. But even though most of his work was behind the scenes, Keaton did appear in supporting roles in a dozen B-pictures throughout the 1940s, culminating in his appearance in the 1949 musical In the Good Old Summertime.

Summertime is a musical remake of the 1940 Ernst Lubitsch charmer The Shop Around the Corner, starring Van Johnson and Judy Garland in the roles played by James Stewart and Margaret Sullavan in the earlier film. The action is moved from Budapest to Chicago, and the main characters are coworkers in a music store which is, coincidentally enough, owned by the Hungarian Otto Oberkugen (who is rather appropriately played by Hungarian actor S.Z. “Cuddles” Sakall). The essential plot remains the same: Andy (Johnson) and Veronica (Garland) are constantly at one another’s throats, but unbeknownst to each other, they are secret pen pals who have gradually fallen in love with one another through their correspondence. Like its predecessor, Summertime is populated with a fantastic supporting cast, including Keaton, Spring Byington, and True Classics’ beloved “Cuddles.” There’s even a brief cameo at the end of the movie by Garland’s two-year-old daughter, Liza Minnelli.

A resigned Buster and an oblivious Cuddles.

Keaton plays the role of Oberkugen’s put-upon nephew, Hickey (the counterpart to Felix Bressart’s abused underling Pirovitch in Corner), and his trademark “stone-faced” persona is put to excellent use here. But his finest moment in the film comes from a spectacular pratfall which destroys a violin. Oberkugen’s most prized possession is a rare Stradivarius violin, even though he cannot play the instrument worth a damn. Andy “borrows” the violin one evening, loaning it to a friend of his for an important recital. On the same night, however, Oberkugen wants to give a performance at his engagement party to Nellie (Byington). Andy substitutes another violin, but as Hickey carries it to the stage for Oberkugen’s performance, he stumbles and smashes the instrument beyond recognition, much to Oberkugen’s horror.

Keaton executes the fall brilliantly. There is nothing contrived about his stumble; to the audience, it looks as though the actor has genuinely tripped on his own two feet without forethought, and even though his arms windmill comically, the performance is not overly exaggerated. And afterwards, as Keaton tries in vain to put the demolished instrument back together, his panicked befuddlement is still believable. Classic Buster, in every sense.

As seamlessly as Keaton performs the stunt, however, he was not originally supposed to even play the role. In the first script of the film, the character of Hickey was conceived as a young romantic rival to Andy. MGM turned to Keaton to come up with a plausible and funny scenario for the violin-breaking scene. Yet after composing the trick, director Robert Z. Leonard realized that no one else would be able to pull off the scene as believably as Buster Keaton. The part was rewritten as an older man specifically for the actor.

Keaton also coached Johnson and Garland through the inspired shtick of their characters’ initial meeting (which you can see in the first few minutes of the video embedded above), during which Andy inadvertently destroys Garland’s umbrella, dress, and hat. Garland is particularly winning in this bit–she does all the heavy lifting, from the tumble to dealing with her suddenly unruly mop of hair–while Johnson lays on a thick layer of slightly befuddled charm.

As a side note, this wasn’t the first nor the last time Keaton would serve in the role of comedic mentor. For instance, in the mid-1940s, Keaton shared an office at the studio (jokingly christened “The Boors Nest”) with his former silent screen director Ed Sedgwick and starlet/B-movie queen Lucille Ball. Recognizing her skill and strong sense of comedic timing, Keaton showed her all of his patented “tricks of the trade” when it came to the rigors of physical comedy and the intricacies of working with props. Perhaps most importantly, Keaton taught Ball how to own and yet respect her props, a quality that can be seen in countless I Love Lucy episodes. Indeed, Keaton’s influence on the development of the Lucy Ricardo character cannot be denied–it’s there every time Lucy accidentally sets her putty nose on fire or ends up with a loving cup on her head.

Buster and Lucy, clowning around.

In the Good Old Summertime shows that, even at the age of fifty-four and years removed from his heyday of dangerous stunt work in silent pictures, Buster Keaton could still throw his body around with sheer abandon, and make even the most slapstick-y of pratfalls look completely natural and effortless. Summertime was the final movie Keaton would make for MGM, and in some ways, it marks the end of an era. Before his death in 1966, Keaton would go on to small parts in other movies–a brief appearance in Sunset Blvd., a role opposite fellow silent screen legend Charlie Chaplin in Limelight (1952), the obligatory cameo in the comedian-packed It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963)–but leaving the studio that had produced some of his biggest hits put a definitive period on a major chapter in Keaton’s life and career.

Dear friend.

Posted on by under best.films.ever., brandie's faves

I adore The Shop Around the Corner. I say that mainly to warn you that this post will feature much fawning and adoration for one of the best films I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. And the fact that it has become a holiday classic over the years is merely a bonus, meaning more and more people are exposed to its sheer brilliance every holiday season.

Released in 1940, Shop stars James Stewart as Alfred Kralik, salesman at Matuschek and Co., a store in Budapest. When Klara Novak (Margaret Sullavan) comes in looking for employment, she charms store owner Hugo Matuschek (Frank Morgan) and earns herself a position, much to the irritation of Kralik. The film explores their antagonistic relationship at work, juxtaposed with their growing romantic relationship as secret pen-pals. When Kralik discovers that the woman who drives him nuts at work is the epistolary woman of his dreams, his reaction sets off a chain of events that leads to the ultimate happy ending.

Seems like a simple enough movie, right? Yet The Shop Around the Corner is anything but. The film, directed by Ernst Lubitsch, is the premier example of what scholars and critics have labeled the “Lubitsch touch.” There is no true definition of what people mean when they label the director’s films as having that special quality. Generally, the Lubitsch touch represents an amalgamation of seemingly contradictory styles into one beautifully-rendered production. To that end, The Shop Around the Corner combines romance, drama, suspense, wit, melodrama, sophistication, and humor into one cohesive statement about the human experience. How many other films can do that–make you feel happy, sad, lonely, joyful, depressed, and vitally alive, all at once?

This is one of those movies in which the supporting cast is just as important as the leading roles. The Matuschek and Co. crew provide a heartfelt and sometimes sober backdrop for the romance developing between Kralik and Novak. Morgan, as their unhappily-married boss, is perhaps at his most brilliant in this film, engaging our sympathies as he stumbles through the movie. The subplot concerning Matuschek’s growing suspicions about Kralik’s supposed dalliances with his boss’ wife runs the risk of delving into the maudlin, but Morgan maintains a nice balance of melancholy and bluster.

The movie also features several standout performances among the other members of the supporting cast, including frequent Lubitsch collaborator Felix Bressart as Kralik’s friend (and Matuschek’s punching bag) Pirovitch, and Joseph Schildkraut as Vadas, the smarmy two-faced employee who is actually romancing the boss’ wife. William Tracy also provides a great comedic turn as smart-mouthed Pepi, the store’s errand boy.

True, there is a sense of sentimentality at the heart of this movie. You’d have to be the grinchiest Grinch in the history of grinches not to respond to the truly lovely romantic touches sprinkled throughout the script. And seeing as how the bulk of the action happens around Christmas, such sentimentality is to be expected. But Shop is so much more than that. It’s hard to put into words exactly what I mean.

All I can say is, this movie touches something inside of me. Sometimes, when times are tough, all we need is a reminder that love and hope can be found anywhere–in the friendship of an understanding pal, or a kind gesture from a figure of authority, or even in a heartfelt letter from an anonymous source, assuring us that someone–anyone–is out there listening and caring and believing in us. There is so much love in the world, and in The Shop Around the Corner, it’s encapsulated neatly into 99 minutes for our viewing pleasure. How can you beat that?

You know what? Here’s how much I love this movie–I, a notorious hater of remakes (as there have been so few that have actually worked over the years), actually don’t mind the two remakes this movie spawned. Granted, neither of them reaches anywhere near the levels of brilliance to which Shop ascends, but each has its moments.

1949′s In the Good Old Summertime stars Judy Garland and Van Johnson as the feuding pen-pal paramours. By virtue of its stars, this film has been injected with a healthy dose of musical numbers, and the action has been moved to a Chicago music store. If you are a consistent reader of this blog, it should not surprise you that one of the big draws for me in this film is the presence of S.Z. “Cuddles” Sakall as Garland and Johnson’s boss. The movie also features stone-faced classic film stalwart Buster Keaton–employing some deft physical comedy with Cuddles’ precious violin that recalls some of his more celebrated movie stunts–and the ever-appealing Spring Byington. The movie also marks the first ever big-screen appearance of two-year-old Liza Minnelli, Garland’s uber-talented daughter.

Summertime is the lesser of the two remakes. Transforming the script of a previously-produced film into a musical was not unheard of in Hollywood–look at the bulk of the Dean Martin-Jerry Lewis films, for instance–but some accomplished this much more cleanly than others. As the male lead, Johnson lacks Stewart’s earlier earnestness and demonstrates little of Tom Hanks’ later charms. Garland, whose legendary troubles had reached a pinnacle in the late 1940s, only seems to come alive during her musical performances, and even then, she lacks much of the spark that made earlier films like 1944′s Meet Me in St. Louis so memorably endearing. Still, though this remake is little more than a trifle, it is an enjoyable one nonetheless.

When Shop was reworked in 1998 for the Internet age, pairing golden film couple Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan for the third time, the screenwriters did a better job of retaining the spirit of the original. I’m not the biggest fan of Nora Ephron (who tends to wring the maudlin out of the most inane of situations), but I think this may be her best script ever, combining the influence of the original film and elements of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. Thankfully, the story does not lose any humor upon being translated from a turn-of-the-century period piece to a modern-day examination of the sticky intertwining of business and personal relationships.

Still, some of the emotion at the heart of The Shop Around the Corner is lost when the secret pen-pals are taken out of a shared workplace and put in competing businesses. Part of the deliciousness of the original is the close quarters in which Alfred and Klara find themselves, and though Mail throws Hanks and Ryan together as often as feasibly possible, the romantic tension takes longer to build, and it ultimately seems less vital, somehow, than the pairing of Stewart and Sullavan. That being said, Mail is quite entertaining, and makes one wish that Hanks would go back to his romantic comedy roots, as he embodies such roles quite nicely.

Despite their respective appeals, however, the remakes have nothing on the original. If you have never seen The Shop Around the Corner, you have deprived yourself of an amazing film experience. Make sure you catch this unparalleled piece of cinema history–it’s guaranteed to be a film you’ll remember.

We’re off to see the (new-fangled) Wizard?

Posted on by under lit adaptations, remakes suck, wtf hollywood?!?

UPDATE: Entertainment Weekly reports that Robert Zemeckis will NOT direct a remake of The Wizard of Oz as previously reported. Yay!! At least this is one classic story that won’t be CGI’ed beyond all recognition. (By the way, EW, I, for one, wasn’t howling like a “flying monkey.” I was screaming like that witch who got a damn house dropped on her head. Get it straight.)

************************************************************************

Talk about your unnecessary remakes …

There is talk that Warner Bros. plans to remake the 1939 Technicolor dreamfest The Wizard of Oz, using the original script by Noel Langley, Florence Ryerson, and Edgar Allan Woolf (which was, as you very likely know, adapted in turn from the children’s lit classic by Frank L. Baum). Robert Zemeckis, whose directorial pedigree demonstrates an enjoyment for mangling classic works of literature on the big screen (last year’s version of A Christmas Carol, the atrocious 2007 adaptation of Beowulf), is rumored to be taking the lead of the production.

How do the powers that be at Warner Bros. not see this as a terrible, horrible, no-good very bad idea???

Earlier today, as I ranted about this new development on Facebook, a friend mentioned the 1978 musical version of Baum’s story, The Wiz, questioning why I would take issue with this news and not feel as offended by other incarnations of the story. But there’s a stark difference between adapting different versions of the same tale and what Warner plans to do with it. I have no problem with The Wiz (though I dislike it personally), nor with other adaptations of the tale such as Gregory Maguire’s fantastic Wicked (both the book and the Broadway show), for these versions of the tale use Baum’s story as inspiration, transmuting it for different, modern audiences. Fair enough, in my mind.

But to take the original script and essentially remake it, word-for-word? That smacks of laziness … and is anyone else getting shades of Gus Van Sant’s abysmal shot-for-shot remake of Psycho (1998) here?

And who the hell are they going to cast in the iconic Wizard roles? Who can even come close to capturing the magic of Judy Garland or Margaret Hamilton or Frank Morgan or Bert Lahr or any of the other brilliant actors who brought the original to life? No one, that’s who. So why even try?

I’ve not an Oz super-fan by any means; I like the movie and have fond memories of it, but it’s not one of those I feel the need to watch on repeat. Still, it feels like sacrilege to take one of the most beloved movies in Hollywood history and re-shoot it. Not only does it indicate that an original idea in modern cinema is about as rare as a World Series pennant for the Cubs, but it indicates a decided lack of respect for the classics. What’s next–films such as Casablanca or Gone With the Wind or Citizen Kane are going to be modernized and homogenized within an inch of their lives, thoroughly obliterating the utter specialness of the originals? Yeah, that sounds like a fun time for all.

What’s your take on this? Is a remake a tribute to the original, or is it merely a giant middle finger to fans?

Dear Mr. Gable.

Posted on by under autographs, guest post

In the 1937 film Broadway Melody of 1938, a young Judy Garland sings “Dear Mr. Gable: You Made Me Love You” to a photograph of the handsome star:

“Dear Mr. Gable,
I am writing this to you
and I hope that you will read it so you’ll know
My heart beats like a hammer
and I stutter and I stammer
every time I see you at the picture show.
I guess I’m just another fan of yours
and I thought I’d write and tell you so.
You made me love you …”

Women have been falling for the charms of Clark Gable for decades, and even those of us who entered this world long after his heyday still find our hearts set aflutter by that cocky grin and rugged countenance. His films, among some of most memorable in Hollywood history, are a staple on TCM; this month alone, he’ll be popping up in six films on the network’s schedule.

Yes, even fifty years after his death, Clark Gable is a ubiquitous presence for the classic movie fan. But sometimes, he shows up in the most unexpected places.

Recently, our very smart and all-around awesome friend Leigh Pourciau discovered this framed and autographed picture of Mr. Gable in her great-grandmother’s old wardrobe!

In the photo, Gable stands in front of a plantation home on the set of the 1957 Civil War film Band of Angels. If you zoom in on the picture, you can make out the faint dedication: “To Lucille, Clark.”

I asked Leigh to tell us a little about the background of this amazing find:

“My great-grandmother, Lucille Browning Pourciau, was the head waitress at a restaurant in The Bellemont Hotel in Baton Rouge, LA in the 1950s (it’s no longer in operation, but you can find photos here). Because she was the head waitress, she always served the VIP’s. Occasionally, this included Hollywood actors and actresses who filmed movies in the area. In the late 1950s, this included Clark Gable, who was starring in Band of Angels (1957) with Yvonne de Carlo and Sidney Poitier. Apparently Clark Gable was kind enough to sign an 8×10 for her. My grandfather, her youngest son, said that she did not, however, have a high opinion of Yvonne de Carlo. Apparently, she was a snob.

She also had the pleasure of serving actor Marion Mitchell Morrison, known to us as John Wayne!

Maw Maw Pourciau and her husband (my great-grandfather) went on to own and operate their own restaurant–Frenchie’s in Baton Rouge.”

You never know what you’ll come across on any given afternoon!

Thank you, Leigh, for sharing this with us!

(Special thanks to commenters on the MovieFanFare blog for helping us correctly identify the setting of the photograph!)

SUtS: Margaret O’Brien

Posted on by under 4-star films, brandie's faves, summer under the stars

Carrie’s choice: Tenth Avenue Angel (1948)

Airing at 9:30AM EST

This dramatic movie is not exactly the silly comedy or musical/comedy I enjoy so much in classic film. What I like about it, though, is that it’s a story of redemption- or not.  Margaret O’Brien plays Flavia, whose aunt (played by Angela Lansbury, no less) is receiving her fiance. However, instead of the world-wide traveler Flavia has been told to expect, the fiance just got out of prison. While he works to build his life on the outside (be it socially favorable or unfavorable), Flavia has to come to terms with his past.

I love this idea. It’s the story of Les Miserables told from a personal instead of social perspective. The fiance, however, is not exactly Jean Valjean. He is a legitimate criminal and looks to some of his old criminal associates. The question here is can he redeem himself and change and can Flavia accept his past, as apparently her aunt seems to manage?

The interesting thing about this movie, among other things, is the ideas it presents within its time. In 1948, the world was still recovering from the horrors of WWII and the Holocaust. Many questions about bad, criminal, or “evil” behavior littered society and especially psychology. Who do you blame for crime and seemingly evil acts? Can you forgive them? Can people change? Psychology, literature, and film have worked hard to understand and answer these questions since before Nuremberg, and continued after 1946 when the trials were completed. Despite all of these, the debate continues today.

In this case, however, the debate appears in the form of the adorable Margaret O’Brien. Child stars are extremely common now, but few compare to her charming smile and genuine expressions. Her films are worth watching, even if only for the the gentle purity that classic film child stars provide. While many many young stars and their film plots emphasize adventures requiring some form of adult strength, and sometimes adult themes, this film brings real world experience and complex value judgments to a young child while maintaining her childlike wonder.


Brandie’s choice: Meet Me in St. Louis (1944)

Airing at 3:45PM EST

Was there ever a cuter child star than Margaret O’Brien?

Well, maybe Shirley Temple. But she only beats O’Brien by a ringlet.

And when it comes to sheer acting ability, O’Brien takes it by a mile and a half.

If you’ve never seen today’s recommendation, it really is a shame. One of the most effective, moving musicals to come out of the 1940s, Meet Me in St. Louis combines catchy songs, a lovely setting, and great performances by Judy Garland and O’Brien, resulting in a movie that is truly something special.

But let me warn you ahead of time–if you’re looking for a suspenseful plot, look elsewhere. Hell, if you’re looking for a PLOT–seriously, look elsewhere. This film tells the story of a year in the lives of a St. Louis family. The movie opens with the father explaining to his disappointed/upset family that they will have to move to New York because of his job. And the film ends … with the family still in St. Louis, having never moved at all. And that’s about it.

But of course, that’s not really “it.” The movie may not have a very progressive plot, but it is one of the best screen depictions of family life that I have ever seen. And what is a year in the life of the average American family? Typically, there’s not a lot of upheaval. What this film does so beautifully is to simply sit back and let us observe these people as they just live their lives from day to day. We see the father go to work, the mother make homemade ketchup in the kitchen, the daughters fall in love and deal with heartbreak and sadness and celebrate their little daily victories. And the most marvelous thing of all is how deftly director Vincente Minnelli keeps us interested in all of the (non)action.

And of course, this is the movie that introduced future spouses Minnelli and Garland. After filming, they got married, and daughter “Liza-with-a-Z” appeared soon after. The union did not last, but while it did, Garland and Minnelli had one of the most talent-packed families to ever hit Hollywood.

O’Brien is one of the most talented child stars to come out of classic moviedom, and there are few since who have matched her. From her earliest roles, she demonstrates a remarkable ability to slip between complex emotions with all of the maturity and agility of an actor three times her age.  This is especially evident in Meet Me in St. Louis. Her character, Tootie, is a rather morbid five-year-old; her dolls have a habit of becoming deathly ill and “dying,” and Tootie buries them in elaborate funerals. Of all of the children, Tootie is most affected by the prospect of the move, and O’Brien plays her bewilderment and anger so perfectly, it’s difficult not to cry for Tootie’s pain.

I’ve seen this movie more times than I could possibly count, and every time, I find myself singing along, smiling, and even crying a little (Judy singing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” gets me every.single.time). If you’ve seen it, you probably understand this all-over-the-map reaction. And if you haven’t, I hope you will watch it today and love it as much as I do!

The only downside? Now I’m going to have “The Trolley Song” in my head all day long.

Meh. Still worth it!