Welcome Stranger (1947)

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The doctor’s as good as Frank Sinatra! Old Dr. Joseph McRory (Barry Fitzgerald) of Fallbridge, Maine, hires a replacement for his two-month vacation sight unseen. When they finally meet, he and young Californian singing doctor Jim Pearson (Bing Crosby) don’t hit it off, but Pearson is delighted to stay, once he meets teacher Trudy Mason (Joan Caulfield) who volunteers at McRory’s clinic. Only McRory’s housekeeper Mrs Gilley (Elizabeth Patterson) is sympathetic and gives him helpful advice. However the other locals take their cue from McRory and cold-shoulder Pearson, especially Trudy’s stuffy fiancé. But then, guess who needs an emergency appendectomy and the doctors are forced to put aside their differences…  This re-teaming of Crosby with Fitzgerald after Going My Way was huge in 1947 and was heavily promoted by Paramount – this time instead of playing bickering priests, they’re bickering doctors. (They would be reunited again in Top o’ the Morning). The songs of Jimmy Van Heusen are liberally sprinkled throughout the story. Other than trilling, Crosby gives quite a lazy performance in an underwritten role, Fitzgerald has some quaint sayings while Caulfield is lovely, as usual. It’s nice to see Pa Kettle himself (Percy Kilbride) in the smalltown lineup. Written by  N. Richard Nash and Arthur Sheekman from a story by Frank Butler. Director Elliot Nugent makes an appearance as a medic in a scene directed by Billy Wilder.

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Little Boy Lost (1953)

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Before you love the living you’ve got to bury the dead.  During World War II an American war correspondent Bill Wainwright (Bing Crosby) is stationed in Paris. He meets and falls in love with a French singer, Lisa Garret (Nicole Maurey). They marry and have a son, Johnny. When Bill is assigned to cover Dunkirk he can’t return to Paris and discovers Lisa is still there, singing nightly on Radio France. His anti-Nazi reporting means he can’t enter Occupied France. Then the radio station is shut down and he can’t locate her or his son.  He learns the Nazis have murdered her for her Resistance work. After the war and with the assistance of his friend Pierre Verdier (Claude Dauphin) he finds out that his small son went missing during a bombing raid. He is possibly living in an orphanage run by nuns, led by the Mother Superior (Gabrielle Dorziat).  He finds a sad and confused boy, Jean (Christian Fourcade), who does bear a superficial resemblance to Lisa, and Wainwright believes he might be his son. The Mother Superior insists that the boy is his, but Wainwright is sceptical and sets out to test him, eventually convinced that the boy has been coached in order to ease an adoption …Only the trustworthy have friends in the Resistance. And the trustworthy are the Resistance. Producer/director George Seaton could be termed as an auteur and his post-war work, from Miracle on 34th Street to The Big Lift blends realism and social comment with a little sentiment and broad political statements, an admixture that perfectly fits the feeling of the time. This exercise in post-war drama with a musical element doesn’t quite work – it’s a somewhat artificial interpretation of Marghanita Lanski’s book and she was rather shocked that having sold the rights to British actor John Mills it wound up being somewhat bowdlerized as a Paramount production starring Bing Crosby with a lot of singing interludes. Crosby is good, but not great, at playing the man reluctant to confront the reality of his wife’s demise and quick to decide that of all the orphans in the convent it’s the cute blond one that must be his, not the scrawny dark fellow with the chicken legs. There are truths here for all parents, mostly issued in the mother superior’s exchanges with this conflicted man, ready to report on everyone but himself. A mixed bag but not without interest particularly for anyone interested in seeing the terrible state of Paris after the war, a rather different impression than you might have from An American in Paris or its confreres. Paternity cannot be decided by a sudden rapid pulse or a lump in the throat

 

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White Christmas (1954)

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When what’s left of you gets around to what’s left to be gotten, what’s left to be gotten won’t be worth getting, whatever it is you’ve got left.  Years after being demobbed following wartime service in Europe, song-and-dance act Bob Wallace (Bing Crosby) and Phil Davis (Danny Kaye) join sister act Betty (Rosemary Clooney) and Judy Haynes (Vera-Ellen) to perform a Christmas show in rural Vermont where, they run into Gen. Waverly (Dean Jagger), the boys’ commander in World War II.  He is having a hard time adjusting to civilian life and is beset by financial difficulties; his quaint country inn is failing. So what’s the foursome to do but plan a yuletide miracle: a fun-filled musical extravaganza that’s sure to put Waverly and his business in the black by turning it into an entertainment venue! But when Phil and Judy pair off, that leaves Bob and Betty out in the cold … You don’t expect me to get serious with the kind of characters you and Rita have been throwing at me, do you? It’s getting so the PC thought police are making even this jolly time of year a pain in the ass what with songs and carols and anything mentioning the words ‘white’ and ‘Christmas’ causing conniptions. Here at Mondo Towers we are committed to having fun and that includes revisiting this sheerly delightful Technicolor VistaVision explosion of seasonal happiness which is a great taster for the big day. A sort of loose remake of Holiday Inn from a decade earlier, Kaye is teamed with Crosby and they make a great double act, even if this ain’t a Road movie and it was originally intended as the third vehicle for Crosby and Fred Astaire. Clooney and Vera-Ellen make perfect sparring partners for the guys, vivacious and sparky and smart, all at once.  Look fast for George Chakiris dancing behind Clooney and you don’t need me to tell you that all the songs are by Irving Berlin (and Clooney sings both parts on Sisters). The photograph of Freckle-Faced (Dog-Faced Boy) Haynes is that of Carl Switzer, who played Alfalfa in The Little Rascals. The screenplay is by Norman Panama, Norman Krasna and Melvin Frank. Directed by Michael Curtiz, who elicits joyful performances from all concerned in what is for the most part an excellently staged production – and Bob Fosse did the choreography, although he’s uncredited.  Altogether wonderful entertainment, this was the biggest box office hit of its year. The countdown starts here … The crooner is now becoming the comic

 

White Christmas (1954)

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I’m dreaming of a white Christmas with every Christmas card I write. Singer Bob Wallace (Bing Crosby) has his life saved on Christmas night towards the end of WW2 (Bing Crosby) by soldier Phil Davis (Danny Kaye) who persuades him to become a double act. Davis fancies Judy Haynes (Vera-Ellen) who performs with her sister Betty (Rosemary Clooney) and he basically cons Wallace into joining them at a ski lodge in rural Vermont where the girls are going to perform a Christmas show – but they discover there’s no snow and it’s owned by Gen. Waverly (Dean Jagger), the boys’ commander in World War II, who, they learn, is having financial difficulties; his quaint country inn is failing. A season without snow could be a disaster. So what’s the foursome to do but plan a yuletide miracle: a fun-filled musical extravaganza that’s sure to put Waverly and his business back in the black! Then Betty figures Wallace isn’t the guy she thinks he is and abandons ship … Christmas is coming and this is as much a part of the celebration as that vat of cocoa and egg nog I’m currently drowning in as I watch the snow coming down. Originally intended for Fred Astaire opposite Crosby (who’d already had a bit of a hit with that little title tune in their smash movie Holiday Inn…) Astaire dropped out when he read the script so it went to Donald O’Connor. Then Crosby’s wife died and he went into mourning before coming back to it when Danny Kaye got involved and, well, here we are. There are nice jibes about showbiz, a nod to what retired people are supposed to do with their time when their faculties are still intact, and not a few great songs which are only written by the legendary Irving Berlin. With dance numbers to die for, romantic confusion and some crisp witticisms delivered with style – with a crew like that, would you expect any less? – this is tremendous, sentimental entertainment.  Shot in VistaVision (Paramount’s version of widescreen) this has some of the most gleaming reds you’ll see in cinema:  no Santa suit will ever match up to what these guys and gals wear for the ultimate seasonal singalong. Written by Norman Krasna, Norman Panama and Melvin Frank and directed by Michael (‘Bring on the empty horses!’) Curtiz. Look fast for George Chakiris in the dance troupe.