The One and Only, Genuine, Original Family Band

The One and Only, Genuine, Original Family Band
March 21, 1968
Disney
Musical, Comedy, Drama, Romance
VHS
B-

Now that we're getting into the movies that are younger than I am (though it'll be awhile till we reach any I actually saw on first release), I feel like I should attempt to explain what the deal is with these long, sometimes full-sentence-or-question, and sometimes crazy titles.  (And I don't even own The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies.)  I have a couple overlapping theories.  One is that these titles catch the eye and the attention, even if they take up a lot of room on the marquee.  (From here on out, I'm abbreviating this movie as The...Family Band.)  Another theory is, well, it was the '60s (the trend might have started with Dr. Strangelove's full title in '63), and everything was getting more and more colorful and larger than life.  That some of these movies-- this one and John GoldfarbPCH spring to mind-- actually have title songs only adds to the craziness.

Although the family band plays that title song and others-- including a recurring salute to Grover Cleveland!-- the family isn't fully fleshed out.  (There are four younger girls, and I couldn't really distinguish them, except by hair color.)  Mostly, we see Grandpa Walter Brennan, who rails against "Ree-publicans," and his lovely eldest granddaughter, played by 21-year-old Lesley Ann Warren.  There are a couple other notable family members though, Buddy Ebsen (only 14 years younger than Brennan but playing his son), returning to his dancing roots, and an always smiling 16-year-old Kurt Russell, who would soon sort of replace Tommy Kirk as the campus-hijinx lead in Disney movies like The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes.  (I find them mostly boring, although Computer does have a catchy title tune.  I'm more of a Barefoot Executive kinda gal.)

This film, based on a book by Laura Bower, is set in 1888, when Cleveland was defeated by Harrison.  (And, although no one mentions it, Cleveland in turn would later defeat Harrison.)  The stuff about the electoral college looks even more ironic after the 2000 election, but even in '68 it would take only a few months for the election-day "riot" in this film to seem bizarrely mild, compared to the ugliness surrounding the Democratic National Convention in Chicago.  Yes, it's Disney, but even so, the message that we can put aside our political and other differences must've been a hard one to swallow.

The Republicans are mostly represented by Ebsen, Richard Deacon, and 26-year-old John Davidson.  Davidson's character is courting Lesley AW.  He also urges everyone to move to Dakota, where most of the film is set.  He combines his interests when he sings about the Territory, with a line about "virgin fields" waiting to be "ploughed," sung right at Warren.  Their romance is mostly sweet, although I don't like it when he forces a kiss on her near the end and then makes her join him on a wheelbarrow ride, although she stops being mad when he gives her a wedding ring, so we're supposed to just find it funny and charming.  The two of them try to make each other jealous, he with "Giggly Girl," played by none other than Kurt Russell's future wife, 22-year-old Goldie [Jeanne] Hawn, whose Laugh-In premiered a couple months before this film was released.

Ben Frommer would be in Where Were You When the Lights Went Out?, as would Larry J. Blake, who was in Sunset Blvd.  Delivery boy Hank Jones was in Girl Happy and would be in The Barefoot Executive.  Dakota townsman Peter Renaday would be the roller derby ticket-taker in The Shaggy D.A.  Nine-year-old Pamelyn Ferdin (Laura Bower) would provide the voice of Fern in Charlotte's Web, while nine-year-old Bobby Riha (Mayo Bower) would voice Chinook in Santa and the Three Bears.  Vest Dancer Guy (The Swinger, et al.) shows up, in a period-appropriate vest (far right, below).

The Wizard of Oz

The Wizard of Oz
August 25, 1939
MGM
Children's, Fantasy, Musical
VHS
A-

Ah, where to begin?  This movie was such a part of my childhood, of so many childhoods, it's hard to be objective about it.  It's both a classic film and a cult film, with special appeal to gays, lesbians, and bisexuals.  ("Of course, some people do go both ways.")  It's also a movie about the importance of family, both biological and chosen.  It's warm, sweet, funny, scary, and catchy.  (Try not reciting the lines or singing the songs, at least in your head.)  It also has a marvelous early use of color film, and the special effects are well beyond anything else of the time.  The acting is generally solid to wonderful, with Garland touchingly sincere, and many in the cast, from Scarecrow Ray Bolger (Dorothy's and my favorite) to Clara Blandick and Charley Grapewin, as Dorothy's aunt and uncle, seeming irreplaceable.  Margaret Hamilton, as not only the two wicked witches but Miss Gulch (admittedly overlapping characterizations), remains one of the great screen villainesses.  There's not a clinker among the songs, and the dance steps, even the little skips, add to the fun.  Also, the movie is endlessly quotable.

But it is not a perfect film.  Sometimes the direction (by no less than five men, including future Elvis helmsman Norman Taurog) is a little sloppy, with the camera sometimes not clear where it should go.  And, after all the drafts, including assists from witty lyricist Yip Harburg, the writing still needs work, particularly with Glinda's dialogue and characterization.  Now, in a way I've accepted Billie Burke's, shall we say, airier interpretation of Glinda, who is always dignified and sensible in the Oz books.  (Except for the ones John R. Neill wrote, but he was off-base in other ways, although an excellent illustrator.)  However, since childhood Burke's reading of "But I am a witch" has bothered me, when it obviously should be "But I am a witch."  Also, her "You wouldn't have believed me" to Dorothy, late in the film, is stupid on many levels, including that she let Dorothy and friends put themselves repeatedly in danger.  Other than that, my least favorite exchange is when Dorothy asks for the witch's broom (to bring back to the Wizard as proof of the Witch's death) and a Winkie says, "Yes, and bring it with you."  What, did he think Dorothy wanted to sweep up?  Is the "Witches Castle" sign a deliberate error?  What about the brain-enhanced Scarecrow's misinformation about triangles?

Still, these are quibbles.  The film is still a delight.  And it has what may well be the most awesome dog in screen history, Toto.  He's not only adorable but he repeatedly moves the plot along.  (The threat of Miss Gulch to take him away remains unresolved after Dorothy's "dream," two flaws really, the dream and the threat.)  He's the one who gets Dorothy's friends to rescue her and he's the one who leads to the Wizard flying off in his balloon without her.  And along the way, he's a quiet little scene-stealer.  "He" was played by a female dog, Terry, who would soon appear as "Fighting Dog at Beauty Shop" in the all-female The Women.  Margaret Hamilton would appear in My Little Chickadee the next year.  My next Judy Garland movie will be Andy Hardy Meets Debutante, also from 1940.

Rolfe Sedan had just appeared in The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle.  Lorraine Bridges (who does a Lullaby League member's singing voice) was in A Night at the Opera.  One of the Winged Monkeys, Lee Murray, was in A Day at the Races, while another, George Noisom, would go on to both Citizen Kane and It's a Wonderful Life.  One of the Winkies, Harry Wilson, would be a henchman in Some Like It Hot.  Jerry Maren, one of the most prominent Munchkins then and now (he's still alive in his 90s), would shortly do At the Circus.  Emerald City manicurist Ethelreda Leopold had just done You Can't Cheat an Honest Man and would go on to Meets Debutante.  Jimmy the Crow (I am not making that up) would appear as the bank's crow in It's a Wonderful Life.  That movie also has Adriana Caselotti (Juliet's voice here), and it's probably a bit of an in-joke that she was the voice of Snow White in the previous year's hit movie that helped get the ball rolling for Wizard.

I watched Wizard on a tape of the 50th anniversary airing on CBS, with such random celebrities as Tony Danza and Lindsay Wagner voicing their appreciation.  The quality of an almost-twenty-five-year-old VHS tape is not of the best, but the colors are still vibrant.  I will of course get the 75th anniversary DVD when it's released, and I may venture on the Rifftrax commentary.