It's a Wonderful Life (1946)

Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life is the granddaddy of all Christmas movies; although, it certainly didn't start out that way. The movie nearly flopped when it opened, and during its first theater run failed to earn back the money it took to make it. Still, this film has endured down through the decades to become one of the most beloved movies of all time. And it's not hard to see why. The film's got a lot of power in it. Filmed in 1946, a lot of the actors were still carrying raw memories of World War II. The strain of the war shows in their faces and in their voices. This was probably Jimmy Stewart's first really serious role, and he pulls a lot of emotion from his time in the war into his character. When he's praying in the bar scene, those tears on his face are real. When he kisses Donna Reed for the first time, that's real passion you're seeing. In fact, that scene had to be cut short, because it got a little too hot for the censors. So, yeah, this is a powerful movie. I thought so the very first time I saw it when I was about ten years old. I've thought so every time I've watched it since then. I still think so today. In my book, that's what makes a film a classic. It never gets old. It never runs out of gas. As they say, it's got legs.

Stewart plays George Bailey, a man who had big dreams when he was younger. Didn't we all? Well, he was gonna sail around the world, go to college, become an engineer, design dams and bridges and skyscrapers. He was gonna be somebody. People would remember his name. He'd leave his mark on the world. Remember when you were gonna do all of that? I do. But life got in George's way, like it does for a lot of us. When his father dies, George takes over the running of the savings and loan bank that his family owns. Why? Cuz if he doesn't, then the board of directors will sell out to the greedy Mr. Potter (Lionel Barrymore), the richest man in town. If Potter gets a hold of the savings and loan, he'll foreclose on most of the people who have mortgages there. That's just the kind of sweet soul he is. So George takes over and he gives his college money to his younger brother Harry (Todd Karns). When Harry finishes college, he's supposed to come back and take over the savings and loan so that George can go to college too. But Harry meets and marries Ruth (Virginia Patton). Ruth's father owns a company and wants Harry to come to work for him. George is left to run the savings and loan. He marries Mary, and instead of going on a honeymoon George struggles to save the bank during the Great Depression. Time goes by. George and Mary have children. George starts designing houses and creates a new subdivision. When World War II comes, George is declared 4F and has to stay at home. Meanwhile, little brother Harry goes off and becomes a hero. Wins the medal of honor. On the day that Harry is set to come home, tragedy strikes.

Uncle Billy (Thomas Mitchell), George's partner, loses $8,000 of the savings and loan's money, which conveniently ends up in old Mr. Potter's grasping hands. He neglects to tell George about his latest windfall. Instead, he threatens to call the police and have George arrested for embezzlement. To top things off, the bank examiner comes to town. Distraught, George leaves home and goes to a bar, where he offers his urgent prayer. Then, deciding that his life has been a complete failure, George decides to kill himself. This is where Clarence (Henry Travers) enters the picture. Clarence is an angel. He's been sent down to help George find his way back home. George tells Clarence that he wishes he'd never been born. Clarence grants him his wish. Suddenly, a thousand tiny - and not so tiny - changes take place in George's home town of Bedford Falls. George gets the opportunity to find out what the world would have been like if he had never been born. The savings and loan would have gone under when his father died, and old man Potter would have taken away the homes of a lot of people. What's worse, Potter would have gained control of the entire town and renamed it Potterville. It would have been a nasty place to live too. Mary would have been a spinster her whole life. George's children would have never been born. Hundreds of people that George helped over the years would have led much worse lives. Most importantly, Harry - whose life George saved when they were kids - would have died, and he wouldn't have been there during the war to save the lives of a lot of other soldiers. In the end, George realizes that during his insignificant life, he touched the lives of countless people, who in turn touched the lives of still others. George's goodness and generosity, his habit of putting other people's
needs ahead of his own, created a circle of goodness that spread outward over the passing years. With a little bit of heavenly intervention, George learns that he truly did have a wonderful life.

It's a Wonderful Life is definitely a feel good film, and if you don't feel good after watching it, then there's something wrong with you. It celebrates the contributions of the common man (and woman), the people who, in George's words, "do most of the working and and paying and living and dying" in this world. It tells us that each one of us, whether we realize it or not, whether we are important or rich or famous or not, touches on the lives of a lot of other people, sometimes for good, sometimes not. But we do, and when we do, we cause a ripple effect, just like the old rock and pond analogy. It's a Wonderful Life reminds us that this is so, that we really can't behave any old way we want with impunity, because our words and deeds will have an effect on those around us. And, as my mother used to say, eventually the chickens will come home to roost. We all get our payback in the end. For George, who always put others first, his payback is good. By the end of this movie, you'll be wondering what kind of a payback you're in store for. I know I wonder.

It's a Wonderful Life is rated G and is filmed in glorious black-and-white. It has a runtime of 130 minutes.

Other Christmas Movies

People say to me, "But, BeenJammin? What about all of the other Christmas movies? Why don't you review them?" Easy answer: my blog, my taste. More difficult answer: while they may all classify as Christmas movies, to me they fall far short of the mark. In other words, if they don't leave me with warm, glowing fuzzies, I ain't counting them in my Christmas movie list. But, for the sake of argument, I will address a few of these movies here, so that everyone will know why I don't include them in my list.

National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (1989): Chevy Chase and Beverly D'Angelo star in a stupid movie about stupid people doing lots of stupid stuff at Christmas time. Pretty much sophomoric humor, but what more can you expect from National Lampoon?

Home Alone (1990): Maccauley Culkin and Joe Pesci engage in cruel, senseless, slapstick violence, the kind of thing that went out with the three stooges. Oh, and the kid's family are pathetic.

A Christmas Story (1983): Peter Billingsly as a painfully cute kid trying everything to convince his skeptical mother to let him have a BB gun for Christmas. Admittedly a very cute movie. I enjoyed it a lot the first fifty or so times I saw it, but it has really started to wear on me over the years. I can't call it a classic myself cuz it doesn't really wear well, if ya know what I mean.

Elf (2003): I hate Will Ferrell. Hate him. Can't stand the man. Don't think he's funny at all. I have only liked one movie that he was in and this wasn't it. Oh yeah, and did I mention that I hate Will Ferrell?

The Santa Clause (1994): Tim Allen kills Santa Claus and - much to his horror -not only must he replace that jolly old elf but he starts to turn into him. You know how it goes? First he denies, then he resists, then he has a life-changing moment and accepts his fate. Whatever. Too predictable to really be any good.

Christmas with the Kranks (2004): A couple decide to skip Christmas and go on a cruise instead. This upsets the neighbors. Once again, too predictable to be funny. Yawn.

Earnest Saves Christmas (1988): Puh-LEEZE!

The Ice Harvest (2005): John Cusack and Billy Bob Thornton ruin everyone's Christmas. I don't think so.

Jack Frost (1998): Michael Keaton as a dad who dies and comes back as a snow man! Mmm-mmm! Sign me up for that yawn fest.

The Polar Express (2004): An all-singing, all-dancing, musical extravaganza in which computer-animated stick figures ride a computer-animated train all the way to the North Pole to visit a computer-animated Santa Claus. Truly, the train is the only good thing in the movie.

Bad Santa (2003): Billy Bob Thornton plays a con man who poses as Santa so he can rob stores on Christmas Eve. Okay, Billy Bob Thornton and Christmas should be mutually exclusive. The man's just too sleezy to be allowed anywhere near this holiday.

So there you have my take on some of the more popular "Christmas" movies that - IMHO - are not very Christmasy. None of these movies leave me with the Christmas spirit. They don't give me the desire to do good to other people. Some of them are all about the commercial side of Christmas. Others just happen to be set at Christmas time. But none of them do it for me.

The Bishop's Wife (1947)

Henry Kosters' The Bishop's Wife is a Christmas movie that brings to the screen all of the stuff that Christmas should be about. David Niven plays Bishop Henry Brougham, a man of the cloth whose single-minded and so far unsuccessful attempt to raise money for a new cathedral has caused him to lose touch with his wife Julia (Loretta Young), his daughter Debby (Karolyn Grimes), and the people he is supposed to be serving. When the bishop prays for guidance, he's immediately visited by Dudley (Cary Grant), a man who claims to be an angel. Once the bishop is convinced of Dudley's heavenly origins, the bishop expects him to solve his troubles with the cathedral. But Dudley has a different mission. He's not the least bit concerned about the building of another church. He's come to save the Bishop's soul before it's too late. He's there to remind Bishop Brougham of the thing that he's forgotten. He's there to remind him that people are more important than buildings, and that his own family is more important than anything else.

Dudley goes about this in a most unusual way. He starts courting Julia. Soon, Julia is spending all of her time with Dudley, and Debby can't wait for him to come and tell her stories. Even the family dog prefers Dudley to Bishop Brougham. And why not? Dudley's handsome and charming and witty, and he knows everything. Bishop Brougham is worried and irritable and way too busy to tell stories or take Julia to dinner or spend time chatting with old friends. But not Dudley. He talks the Brougham's old friend, Professor Wutheridge (Monty Woolley) into finishing his long-promised history of Rome. He even talks the tight-fisted Mrs. Hamilton into giving all of her money to helping the poor. Eventually, the bishop sees that he, through his blind ambition, has almost lost the things he values most. He orders Dudley to leave, telling him that Julia means more to him than his life. Upon hearing that, Dudley departs, but not before telling Henry what a lucky man he is.

The Bishop's Wife is a wonderful, feel-good movie about rediscovering your true purpose in life, as well as what's really important. Cary Grant turns in a marvelous performance as Dudley, the angel. This is one of the first films to feature the post-war Cary Grant, who's performances are more measured and serious than the pre-war Grant. Loretta Young is as beautiful as ever as the titular character, who mourns for the old days when her husband was just a parish priest and they had fun together and friends among the common people. David Niven gives one of the finest performances of his career as the harried bishop who's lost his direction in life. This film was produced shortly after Niven's wife died in a senseless accident, and Niven's anger and guilt show through in his characterization of Bishop Brougham. But to me, the real star of this film is the incomparable Mothy Woolley, who steals every scene that he's in. Watch him as he struggles in vain to figure out how Dudley knows him. Observe his facial expressions in the wonderful scene where Dudley keeps magically refilling the professor's sherry glass. Woolley is priceless, as is James Gleason as the cheerful cabby, Sylvester, who ends up in a skating party with Dudley and Julia. And all of these wonderful actors come together to deliver the marvelous message that people are what Christmas is really all about. It's peace on earth, good will to all. That's a message we could all use a little more of in these times of uncertainty.

The Bishop's Wife is rated G. It's filmed in glorious black-and-white and has a runtime of 109 minutes.

Miracle on 34th Street (1947)

Okay, now we're getting into familiar territory, aren't we. Tell me truthfully, now. Is there anyone who hasn't been living in a yurt in Outer Mongolia for their entire lives who doesn't know the plot of this film? (No offense to Outer Mongolians implied, really.) But, for the sake of the two or three people out there who haven't seen the movie, I'll fill you in. The rest of you will just have to bear with me. It's Thanksgiving Day. New York City. 1946. A man (Edmund Gwenn), portly, elderly, with a white beard and twinkly eyes shows up at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and agrees to stand in for an inebriated Santa Clause. Everyone is captivated by him, and he's hired to be Macy's store Santa for the Christmas season. There's only one problem. This gentleman, who has been living at an old-folks home on Long Island for a while now, claims that he really IS Santa Clause. The one and only Santa Clause. Says his name is Kris Kringle. Won't say how old he is. Says his next of kin are Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen...you know the rest. And he's a delight to everyone who meets him, including Susan Walker (Natalie Wood), daughter of Macy's parade organizer, Doris Walker (Maureen O'Hara). He boosts Macy's Christmas sales by telling customers where to go to find things that Macy's doesn't carry. At first, this shocks the management, but when delighted customers start spending more at Macy's, Kris gets a raise. Yes, everyone loves Kris. Everyone, that is, with the sole exception Mr. Sawyer (Porter Hall), the store's personnel manager. An amateur psychiatrist, he decides that Kris is delusional and dangerous and must be put away for everyone's safety. When Kris bops Sawyer on the head during an argument, Sawyer convinces Doris to have him taken to Bellevue for a psychiatric evaluation. Disheartened, Kris fails the test on purpose. Now it's up to Doris' neighbor and would-be suitor Fred Gailey (John Payne) to get Kris out of the Asylum. This leads to a hilarious court case, with Gailey using a branch of the US Government itself to prove his claim that Kris cannot be insane because he actually is who he claims to be - Santa Claus. And while all of this is going on, Fred is trying his best to woo the once-bitten-twice-shy Doris, and Kris is doing his best to convince both Doris and Susan that not only does Santa Clause exist but also that Kris is the real McCoy. Many "miracles" great and small occur during the course of the story, but none greater or more important than Doris and Susan finding out that they can believe in things that don't make any rational sense.

Miracle on 34th Street is a delightful Christmas movie that's all about the power of faith, the idea that sometimes you just have to believe in something even if it doesn't make sense to do so. The story is charming, just the kind of thing people need and want to see during the holiday season. Ed Gwenn is the perfect Santa Clause, portly, with his lovely white beard and his soft voice. He is the perfect embodiment of old St. Nick. In fact, he looks like he could have been the model for countless Coca Cola ads. Maureen O'Hara is great as the divorced single mother, trying to raise her daughter to be rational and level-headed. And eight-year-old Natalie Wood is utterly charming as little Susan, just learning how to believe in things that most children her age believe whole-heartedly. Most of the other characters are portrayed by Hollywood's stable of peerless character actors - something that seems to be missing in Hollywood these days. If there's one weak spot in the film, it's John Payne playing the would-be suitor. Leading men are terrible parts in films of this nature, because there's just not a lot you can do with them. He's handsome and he's smart and he's successful, but he doesn't get the great lines that the character actors or even Doris and Susan get, so he just sort of hangs around and helps to move the action forward, but he's not exactly memorable. On a trivia note, all of the footage or the parade was taken at the actual 1946 parade, in which Ed Gwenn was the official Santa Claus and performed all of the official duties associated with that position. Yes, that's really Gwenn addressing the crowd from the top of the marquee in front of Macy's.

There have been several remakes of Miracle on 34th Street, including a so-so made-for-TV version in 1974 with Sebastian Cabot, and a horrendous butchering of the story in 1994 starring Richard Attenborough. Best to avoid all of the remakes - they cannot compare to the original. Neither can the colorized versions that are widely available. To me, they look like those hand-tinted photographs from by-gone days. No black-and-white film should ever be colored. It's a travesty. Miracle on 34th Street was filmed in glorious black-and-white, and that's how it should be viewed. The film is rated G and it has a runtime of 96 minutes.

White Christmas (1954)

Yet another Christmas movie that starts in World War II, Michael Curtiz's White Christmas was the top grossing movie for 1954 and an instant holiday classic. A sort of a remake of Holiday Inn, it was supposed to reunite Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire, but Astaire turned down the part saying he had retired. The screenplay was then rewritten for Donald O'Conner, but when he dropped out, Danny Kaye was tapped for the film. The rest, as they say all too often, was movie history. The film follows the adventures of Bob Wallace (Crosby) and Phil Davis (Kaye), two song and dance men who hook up during the dark days of WWII and go on to become famous as directors and producers of their own variety show. After closing down their show for the Christmas holiday, Bob and Phil go to see a potential act for their show, the Haynes sisters, Betty (Rosemary Clooney) and her younger sister Judy (Vera-Ellen). Phil and Judy hit it off right from the start, but Bob and Betty need a little encouragement, so Phil wrangles Bob into joining the girls in Vermont, where they're performing at the Columbia Inn. When they arrive at the inn, Bob and Phil discover that it's owned by their old commanding officer, General Tom Waverly (Dean Jagger). The boys are delighted to see him, until they find out from the receptionist, Emma (Mary Wickes), that the inn is losing money. See, it's not snowing. In Vermont. During ski season.

Well, Bob and Phil can't let an old pal from the army down, so they bring all of the cast and crew from their show to Vermont to rehearse over Christmas. But there are bigger problems brewing. General Waverly is feeling forgotten. After all, he's a general, one of the men who won the greatest war of all, an important leader, and he's stuck running a failing hotel and nightclub. So Bob and Phil come up with another great idea - they'll get as many men as they can find from the general's old division to come up to Vermont to show the general that he's not been forgotten. In the process of arranging all of this, though, Betty thinks Bob is going to use the general's hard-luck story to make a fortune for himself. Which he'd never do. But she won't listen to reason. After much misunderstanding and several testy moments, everybody gathers onstage to praise General Waverly. And as Bob and Betty and Phil and Judy sing "White Christmas," it starts to snow outside. The general is happy, the inn is saved, our two happy couples are headed for marital bliss, and everyone lives happily ever after, which is how a Christmas movie should end. Well, shouldn't it?

White Christmas holds a special place in my heart. I first saw the movie in December 1970, just a few months after my grandmother had died, and the film reminded me of her in some strange way. Maybe it was the set design, maybe it was the music by Irving Berlin, maybe it was the presence of actors who hailed from my grandmother's day. Whatever it was, this film became part of my mental backdrop against which my life has played out. That's what great films do. They seep inside of you and form a part of your subconscious metaphor of the world, the archetype against which you measure everything else in your life. I could have picked a lot worse movies to do this with. I mean, imagine if it had been Ed Wood's Plan 9 from Outer Space! But White Christmas is a fun, happy, carefree movie, another of those films that would be better termed a "holiday movie" than a "Christmas movie." It really has nothing to do with Christmas other than the time of year during which it is set. But who really cares about that. There's singing and dancing and beautiful sets and gorgeous costumes and wonderful music by Irving Berlin and its all wrapped up in a luscious widescreen technicolor package (called VistaVision) that will knock your socks off.

White Christmas is filmed in VistaVision and it has a runtime of 120 minutes.

The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942)

Okay, so maybe William Keighley's The Man Who Came to Dinner isn't exactly a "Christmas movie' per se, but it does take place at Christmas time, and it is a movie, so it fits in my book. Besides, it is also one of the most deliciously, wickedly funny movies ever made. Sheridan Whiteside (Monty Woolley) and his personal secretary, Maggie Cutler (Bette Davis) travel from New York City to Ohio for a dinner at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Stanley (Grant Mitchell and Billie Burke). As he is walking up the front steps, "Sherry" falls and injures his back. Much to Sherry's dismay, the doctor says that he must rest until he heals completely. In short order Sherry takes over the Stanley's home, ordering them about as if they were servants and generally wreaking havoc upon everyone who comes within his sights. When Maggie falls in love with Brett Jefferson (Richard Travis), the editor of the local paper, Sherry calls in his friend, the gorgeous actress Lorraine Sheldon ( Ann Sheridan), to lure Jefferson away from Maggie. When she discovers the plot, Maggie quits, leaving Sherry high and dry.

In a panic, Sherry calls on another actor, Beverly Carlton (Reginald Gardner), to drag Lorraine away from Jefferson. That plot fails, an infuriated Lorraine becomes more determined than ever to take Jefferson away from Maggie, and Maggie is more determined than ever to quit Sherry's employ. What's more, Mr. Stanley gets a court order evicting Sherry and his entire entourage in one hour. At the last moment, Sherry's old friend Banjo (Jimmy Durante) shows up and removes Lorraine from the picture in a fashion that I won't divulge. Sherry then turns the tables on the Stanleys when he discovers that Mr. Stanley's sister, Harriet (Ruth Vivian) is a notorious ax-murderer, a bit of knowledge the Stanley's are eager to suppress. Sherry blackmails the Stanleys into letting him stay a while longer. He also forces them to loosen their grip on their two children, who want to follow their own paths in life, not their parents'. When Sherry finally leaves, he takes with him the Stanleys' servants, who are more than eager to go with him. As he waves goodbye, Sherry slips on the ice yet again. You can guess the rest.

So what does any of this have to do with Christmas? Nothing whatsoever. Isn't that great? All of the madness simply takes place at Christmas time. In fact Sherry is forced to deliver his annual Christmas broadcast from the Stanleys' living room as his nurse and doctor attempt to herd a flock of penguins and a boys choir sings in the background. It's all madness and fun, and it's all Monty Woolley. Yes, Bette Davis may have gotten top billing, but this is Woolley's movie from start to finish. Davis plays second fiddle to him all the way through. And how could she not? I don't think anyone in movie history has gotten such great dialogue, with the possible exception of Groucho Marx. Referring to Harriet Stanley, Sherry declares, "She's right out of The Hound of the Baskervilles." When he hires the Stanley's servants from them, the Stanley's protest that they've been with them for year, to which Sherry retorts, "I'm commuting their sentence." And he refers to Maggie as "this aging debutante...[whom] I retain in my employ only because she is the sole support of her two-headed brother." But most of his acerbic wit is reserved for his nurse, poor Miss Preen (Mary Wickes in her first screen role). He tells her at one point, "Go in an read the life of Florence Nightingale and learn how unfitted you are to your chosen profession," and at another time he tells her, "My great aunt Jennifer ate a whole box of candy everyday of her life. She lived to be 102, and when she had been dead three days, she looked better than you do now." Face it, you just can't compete with lines like those, especially when you're playing a love-struck secretary.

Then only other character that even begins to compete with Sherry, is that of Banjo, who was based on Harpo Marx. Jimmy Durante has great fun with him. In fact, most of the characters in the movie were based on famous people. Sheridan Whiteside's character was based on noted film critic Alexander Woollcott, who was a good friend of the authors of the stage play, Moss Hart and George S. Kauffman. The character of Maggie Cutler was based on Algonquin Round Table member Dorothy Parker, Lorraine Sheldon was based on Gertrude Lawrence, and Beverly Carlton was based on Noel Coward. Even Harriet, Mr. Stanley's the ax-murdering sister, was based on a famous person - Lizzie Borden.

So, no, there's not a lot in this movie about Christmas. It's just a whole lot of fun, and it's a nice break during the chaos that occurs around Christmas. The Man Who Came to Dinner is rated G and has a runtime of 112 minutes. It is filmed in glorious black-and-white, of course.

Scrooge (1951)

Everybody has their own favorite film adaptation of Charles Dickens' classic A Christmas Carol, and this just happens to be mine. Titled simply Scrooge, it starred the great Scottish character actor Alastair Sim as the vile Ebeneezer Scrooge. In fact, Alastair Sim is the very reason that I love this version of the story. While all of the other actors who have played Scrooge are very capable of portraying the hard, wrenching, grasping, covetous, old sinner, no one has ever managed to capture the happy, joyful, reformed Ebeneezer anywhere near as well as Sim did. So while the likes of Michael Cain, George C. Scott and Patrick Stewart can play mean Scrooge with ease, they simply are not believable as the happy Scrooge. In fact, George C. Scott looks like he's in pain every time he attempts to force a genuine smile across his face, and the outcome is rather scary. But when Alastair Sim smiles, his entire face lights up, and he beams joy and youthful exuberance as he tries to stand on his head, or sends the little boy to buy the goose for the Cratchets, or promises to raise Bob Cratchet's salary. His laughter bubbles out of him like a little child's. And it's infectious laughter. You can't help but smile and laugh yourself.

I'm not going to summarize the plot for you. There's really no need for that. Unless you've been living under a rock your entire life, you probably already know the story, how four ghosts haunt the miserly Scrooge on Christmas Eve, showing him his life as it was, as it is, and as it soon will be, how he devolved from a decent person to the wretch that he now is, and what effect he's had on those around him. Oh yes, we all know the story well enough. What makes one version better than another is not the story itself. You can't go wrong when you're starting with something so well written (although Bill Murray's updated version came close to murdering the original story). No, what makes one version good and another not so good lies in how the story is told, and director Brian Desmond Hurst sets the bar pretty high in his Scrooge. First of all, screen writer Noel Langley pared down the story so that it flows more quickly. Then Hurst films it in black-and-white, which is not only cheaper to use, but it also lends the movie a certain dreariness that is perfect for telling a ghost story. All of the sets are exquisitely done, and are true to mid-19th century England. Scrooge's quarters are heavily paneled and sparsely furnished, and the tiny fire on the grate does little to cheer or warm them. Watching him move about his rooms, you can almost feel the cold that the pitiful flames cannot drive out. In fact, the one sensation that pervades the entire movie is one of cold. The only times we really see or feel any warmth are when Scrooge is in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Present, played wonderfully by Francis De Wolff.

In fact, all of the actors in Scrooge put in very fine performances. Mervyn Johns makes an excellent Bob Cratchet, and Hermione Baddeley is wonderful as his hot-tempered wife. Michael Horden portrays one of the best Jacob Marley's that I've ever seen, and a very young Patrick McNee is pretty good as the young Marley. But it's Alastair Sim's movie all the way through. Not that the other actors don't carry their own weight, but Sim simply steals the scene every moment that he's on camera, something that he was guilty of all through his career. It wasn't something that he set out to do, either; he just did it without even trying. With his great bald head, his bulging eyes, and his deep, ghoulish voice, Sim was forever out-shining more seasoned actors, sometimes stealing entire movies from them. His presence could make a bad movie good and a good movie better. Scrooge is an outstanding movie, and Sims is largely to credit for that. The only weak spots in the entire film are the fact that Tiny Tim is simply too big (almost as tall as his father) and the fact that they cut some of the greatest lines from the story. For instance, when Marley shrieks at Scrooge, "Mankind was my business! The common welfare was my business!" he leaves it right there. The entire line reads, "Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were all my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business." As you can see, the entire line carries much more weight and would have improved the film substantially.

But these are minor critiques. Over all, Scrooge is an outstanding movie, and one that I'm sure you will enjoy. Scrooge is rated G and has a runtime of 86 minutes.

We're No Angels (1955)

We're No Angels is one of my favorite Christmas movies. It's a film with escaped prisoners - thieves and murderers - who enter the store and home of the Ducatel family, intent on robbing and murdering them, but are instead reformed and redeemed by the spirit of the Christmas. It's also the only Christmas story I know of wherein two characters die and everybody's lives are made better by their passing. Odd, I know, but it all works in Michael Curtiz's little known-gem of a movie.

Joseph (Humphrey Bogart), Jules (Peter Ustinov) and Albert (Aldo Ray) have escaped from prison in French Guyana and made their way into the port city of Cayene. Jules picks the pocket of a young naval officer and finds only a letter addressed to Felix Ducatel (Leo G. Carroll). The trio decide to deliver the letter themselves in order to get a reward. Once at Felix's store, Joseph signs them on to repair the leaky roof. He reasons that after dark, the three of them can sneak down into the store, kill the Ducatel's and steal everything they need to escape. From the roof, they spy on the Ducatels and discover that Felix, his wife Amelie (Joan Bennett), and daughter Isabelle (Gloria Talbott) are in serious trouble. Felix went bankrupt back in Paris, and he was bailed out by his evil cousin Andre Trochard (Basil Rathbone). In return for the favor, Cousin Andre took everything Felix owned and sent him to French Guyana to run Andre's store. But Felix has a poor head for business, the store is losing money, and Cousin Andre is threatening to throw Felix out.

The letter that the convicts delivered to Felix reveals that Cousin Andre and his nephew Paul (John Baer) have arrived in Cayenne and are waiting in quarantine on the ship in the harbor. The only person who is thrilled by this news is Isabelle, who is in love with Paul. When she reads in the letter that Paul is to marry another woman for financial gain, she faints. The three desperate criminals rush to her aide. Albert and Jules carry Isabelle to her room, while Joseph - an embezzler and forger - begins looking over Felix's books. The trio begin to take pity on the Ducatels, who are nice people caught in a horrible situation, and they decide to make the Ducatels' Christmas just a little bit better. Joseph steals a Turkey for dinner, while Jules steals flowers from the governor's garden. They cook the Christmas dinner and decorate the house. They even clean up after dinner, the whole time claiming that they're going to kill and rob the Ducatels just as soon as they wash the dishes. After the Ducatels have gone to bed, Cousin Andre and Paul arrive, and the fun really begins.

Andre is the epitome of the wrench, grasping, money-grubbing miser. He has no time for sentiment - it has no cash value. All he cares about is the bottom line, and Felix's is underlined in red ink. Joseph does what he can to help hide Felix's poor business sense, while the others attempt - without much success - to play match-maker between Isabel and Paul. When Andre discovers that the inventory doesn't tally up, he threatens to have Felix arrested. Joseph, Jules and Albert decide that Cousin Andre has lived too long, so they hold a trial, find him guilty and sentence him to death. While they're trying to decide how to kill Andre, he takes Albert's only possession - a small wooden cage containing an extremely lethal viper named Adolph. What follows is one of the best scenes in the movie, as the three calmly try to decide who is going to rush in and tell Andre not to open the cage. By the time they decide, it's too late. That night Joseph forges a new will, dividing Andre's estate evenly between Paul and Felix, but Paul destroys the will in the morning. Without a will, Paul - as Andre's closest relative - will inherit the entire estate. As our trio tries to figure out what to do about Paul, he unexpectedly discovers Adolph lurking in one of Andre's pockets, and the Ducatels are minus another nasty relative. Joseph forges another will, leaving everything to Felix. Then the three of them play match-maker once again, fixing up Isabel with the handsome, young naval officer whose pocket they picked the day before. By the end, Isabel is in love, Felix and Amelie are wealthy, and Joseph, Jules and Albert are new men.

We're No Angels is a wonderful story of redemption. The spirit of Christmas works its magic on these three hardened criminals. At the beginning, they'll stop at nothing to escape from Devil's Island. By the end, they're doing everything in their power to help three complete strangers upon whom they have taken pity. Humphrey Bogart turns in a great performance as the forger Joseph, who was convicted of fraud for selling stock in an "air factory." Aldo Ray is great as the lusty Albert, who killed his uncle when he wouldn't loan him the money he needed to impress a young woman. Basil Rathbone turns in his standard performance as the cold, distant, unfeeling Andre Trochard. But it's Peter Ustinov that steals every scene he's in as the lovable Jules, who murdered his wife on Christmas day for "giving a friend a Christmas present."

We're No Angels is also one of the funniest movies I've ever seen. The humor is subtle though, the lines delivered in a dead-pan way that makes the jokes all the more funny. When Amelie asks Joseph if he can spare her a few minutes of his time, he replies, "A man condemned to life can always spare a few minutes." When Jules goes off to steal the flowers from the governor's garden, Albert reminds him not to step on the grass. "Of course I won't step on the grass," Jules tells him. "What do you take me for." And when Andre dies, Felix tells Joseph, "It's true I never liked my cousin, only because he was not likeable. He had a number of good points, I'm sure. I just can't think of any at the moment." There's also a great running gag with Jules opening locks by simply feeling the locked object and tapping it just right. And so it goes for the entire 108 minute runtime. So if you're looking for a fun, lighthearted, feel-good movie for the holiday, then I strongly suggest you check out We're No Angels. But be careful. You too might fall in love with these three hardened criminals.

We're No Angels is rated G and is filmed in Technicolor.

Christmas in Connecticut (1945)

Elizabeth Lane (Barbara Stanwyck) is a food writer for a best-selling women's magazine. In her articles, she provides fantastic recipes and waxes poetic about the joys of living on her Connecticut farm and taking care of her husband and baby. When the magazine's owner, Alexander Yardley (Sidney Greenstreet), decides that a Elizabeth should host a real-life war hero at her farm for Christmas, the trouble begins. You see, Elizabeth doesn't really live on a farm in Connecticut, she isn't married, she doesn't have a baby, and - worst of all - she can't even cook. For years, she's been getting all of her recipes from her old friend Felix (S. Z. "Cuddles" Sakall - how can you not love someone named Cuddles?). Felix is a refugee from Czechoslovakia, who set up a restaurant in New York City with help from Elizabeth. Now, Felix cooks meals for her so she won't starve and provides her with her award-winning recipes. She bases all the stuff about the farm on one owned by her friend and would-be suitor John Sloan (Reginald Gardner). When Sloan hears about her predicament, he sees a way to finally coerce Elizabeth to the alter. He'll let her use his farm to entertain Yardley and the war hero if she'll agree to marry him. Felix and her editor, Dudley Beecham (Robert Shayne), try their best to dissuade Elizabeth - after all, she doesn't love Sloan - but she feels she has no other choice. It's take Sloan up on his offer or lose her job.

The real fun begins when the war hero, Jefferson Jones (Dennis Morgan), shows up at the farm house. Elizabeth is instantly smitten. Yup! It's love at first sight. Only problem is that Elizabeth is supposedly already married to Sloan, and she supposedly has a baby. Jones caring for her baby and later singing to her clinches the deal. What's a girl to do? Well, keep putting off the ever-persistent Sloan while flirting shamelessly with Jefferson Jones. The animals help her out quite a bit with this. A cow that wanders into the kitchen one evening provides an excuse for her and Jones to walk that cow back to the barn and be alone together. This leads to them canoodling in a snow bank. Go figure. Later, when they decide to sit in a one-horse open sleigh, the horse wanders off with them in tow, giving our love-struck couple yet another opportunity for some serious flirtation. Yardley sees them together, and he's furious. He fires Elizabeth, but Felix changes his mind by bribing him with food. Smart man, Felix is.

Christmas in Connecticut is a funny movie, in more ways than one. Yeah, it has a lot of funny moments and funny lines, like when Felix, upon seeing Elizabeth's new mink coat, comments that, "Nobody needs a mink coat but the mink." But this movie is funny in other ways too. Yes, it's a Christmas movie (or maybe I should say a holiday movie) but the opening scene is of a German u-boat sinking an American destroyer. And the first 20 minutes of the film revolve around the survivors of that attack - Jones and Seaman Sinkewicz (Frank Jenks). And while Jefferson and Elizabeth never get around to actually kissing, this was still heady stuff for 1945. Jones doesn't know that Elizabeth isn't married, so this is about as close as you can get to adultery in 1945 without actually committing it. The film also explores some real gender-bender issues like the career woman who can't cook or care for children, and the men who can obviously do both. But all in all, this is a great little movie that's really a lot of fun. Stanwyck is utterly radiant as Elizabeth Lane, and Sydney Greenstreet - always a favorite of mine - is great as her bellicose boss. Cuddles Sakall is charming as the wise and kindly Felix, who feeds people's hearts as well as their stomachs.

Christmas in Connecticut was directed by Peter Godfrey, and it's rated G. It's filmed in glorious black-and-white and has a runtime of 102 minutes.

Holiday Inn (1942)

Oh yeah! It's Christmas movie time. And I decided to start out my pantheon of Christmas films with this little nugget from 1942. Mark Sandrich's Holiday Inn, starring Bing Crosby, Fred Astaire, and Marjorie Reynolds, with music by the great Irving Berlin. This film has it all folks. Singing, dancing and romance. It's the movie that first introduced the classic song White Christmas. It's the first movie I know of that deconstructs itself, pulling away the third wall, letting us see the actual sound stage on which the film is filmed while it is filming. And it's funny, with Crosby quipping such one-liners as, "Right now we've got the ledger in an iron lung." My fifteen-year-old daughter laughed her head off while watching it the other night. Unfortunately, it is also one of the most racist movies you will ever see, with Crosby and Reynolds performing in black face, and incomparable Louise Beavers forced to sing about how Abraham Lincoln "set the darkies free." Some of these scenes will literally set your teeth on edge. But bight down and bear through it. Remind yourself that performers like Beavers and Hattie McDaniel paid their dues and paved the road for the likes of Denzel Washington and Halle Barry. Besides, the rest of the film is worth the watching.

Jim Hardy (Crosby), Ted Hanover (Astaire) and Lila Dixon (Virginia Dale) are an entertaining trio, singing and dancing their lives away. But Ted wants to retire and live on a farm in Connecticut. Ted is engaged to Lila, who wants fame and fortune, so she decides to jilt Jim on Christmas Eve and stay with Ted. Jim goes off alone to live the good life on the farm. But farm living isn't all it's cracked up to be, and before the year is out Jim is in a sanitarium for his nerves. When he gets out, he's got a great idea for his farm. He'll turn it into Holiday Inn - a restaurant and dance hall that's only open on holidays. He hires up-and-coming singer and dancer Linda Mason (Reynolds) to perform with him, and the place opens to rave reviews on New Year's Eve. Unfortunately, Lila breaks off her engagement with Ted on New Year's Eve too, and a besotted Ted shows up at the inn, dances a fabulous number with Linda, before passing out cold on the dance floor. When he comes to the next morning, he remembers he found a great new dance partner, but he doesn't remember what she looked like. Now all of the pieces are on the board and the game is in motion. Ted tries to figure out who the mysterious dancing lady is, and Jim tries to foil his attempts at every turn. Once Ted learns that Linda is his "new partner," he tries everything in the world to get her away from Jim. In the end, Jim's own desperation causes him to sabotage Linda's opportunity to try out in front of a Hollywood talent scout, and she leaves Jim for Ted and Hollywood.

That's all I'm going to tell you about the story. If you want to see how it's all resolved and who wins the girl in the end, you're going to have to watch the movie. You won't be sorry you did. The dancing sequences are simply astounding. Astaire's Fourth of July dance alone makes the entire film worthwhile. Then there are the wonderful songs by Berlin, who truly was one of the greatest songwriters who ever lived. Listening to his music, it's easy to see why for the first half of the twentieth century popular music was jazz. And then there are all of the jokes and one-liners. Finally, there are the performances, all of which are first-rate. Walter Abel as Ted's agent Danny and Irving Bacon as Gus the driver almost steal the show from Crosby and Astaire. Trust me, if you like good movies, you're gonna love this film.

Holiday in is rated G. It's filmed in glorious black-and-white, and it has a runtime of 100 minutes.

Robinson Crusoe on Mars (1964)

Okay, yeah, so everybody likes to point out that Robinson Crusoe on Mars is scientifically inaccurate, that Mars is nothing like they portray it here, and that no one could possibly survive there like Commander Christopher "Kit" Draper (Paul Mantee) does. But who the hell cares about any of that. This is a cracking good story. Helmer Byron Haskins takes Daniel Defoe's classic adventure story and sets it not on a tropical island but instead on the angry red planet itself. When their mother ship is nearly clobbered by a passing astroid, Draper and his co-pilot Colonel Dan McReady (Adam West) are forced to land on Mars. Well, they crash, really, and McReady is killed. Left with only the ship's mascot - a monkey named Mona - Draper must try to survive as best he can, while his supply-laden mother ship orbits the planet, forever out of reach. In short order, Draper and Mona find shelter and discover water, oxygen and edible plants. With all of his basic needs taken care of, Draper slowly starts to go nutty from the isolation. Fear not, though, for soon to arrive on the scene is his man Friday (Victor Lundin), a very-human looking alien slave who is forced to labor in Martian mines by other aliens who buzz about in ships that closely resemble the Martian spacecraft from the 1950 War of the Worlds. Not surprising, either, since Haskins worked on that film too. Friday is pursued relentlessly by his alien task masters, who are able to home in on him by means of his electronic handcuffs. To escape the bad guys, Draper and Friday go underground, following a deep cavern that runs for thousands of miles beneath the surface. In due time, Draper is able to rid Friday of his wrist monitors, and when the two finally emerge near the Martian North Pole, the bad guys are nowhere to be seen. Our two heroes press on to the pole; although, why they do so is never adequately explained. As they near the pole, another earth ship flies over and Draper is able to contact them assuring his and Friday's rescue.

I first saw Robinson Crusoe on Mars when I was about five years old, making it one of that small group of movies that has had a profound impact on me ever since. As a result, I love this movie. It has adventure, thrills, scary stuff, exploding meteors, great special effects that stand up well even today, and even a ghost. Oh, yeah, and don't forget the monkey. The story is a classic, of course, and you can almost never go wrong when you use a classic as your foundation. The screenplay by John C. Higgins is really first rate, and the entire thing is shot in widescreen technicolor, quite an achievement at a time when most scifi films were shot in black and white. The best thing about Robinson Crusoe on Mars, though, is the incredible performance by Paul Mantee. This is, after all, essentially a one man movie, so Mantee must carry the entire film for most of its 110 minute runtime. To say that he pulls it off is an understatement. This veteran character actor does a phenomenal job, bringing a nuanced performance to a film that could have so easily tripped over the edge and fallen into the morass of camp. But Mantee is restrained, subtle. While the common man in him is scared and lonely, the military officer maintains strict discipline, and the scientist in him rationally catalogues all of Mars' many sights. It's all too easy to believe that this man really is seeing these sights for the first time and trying to hold them in his memory for future reference. That's the sign of a truly great actor.

Robinson Crusoe on Mars is one of the finest examples of mid-century science fiction film making. It's rated G, for GREAT!

Silent Running (1972)

Let me start right out by saying that there are a LOT of things wrong with Silent Running, not the least of which is THE MESSAGE, which it beats you over the head with until you're dizzy. Here's the set up. Earth is ecologically destroyed. So, the human race in its wisdom has taken all of the earth's remaining natural habitats, enclosed them in these really cool glass domes, attached them to these two-mile-long space ships and sent them on a round the solar system cruise while we clean up the earth and get it ready to receive its forests once again. Ah, but people being the greedy and short-sighted cretins that they are decide that they really don't need all of those trees as much as they need those really cool space ships, which could be pressed into service hauling fee-paying cargo to...someplace. So the crews of the ships are ordered to jettison the domes and - wait for it - blow them up! But one poor sot named Freeman Lowell (Bruce Dern) can't accept this. The forests must be saved at all costs. So he kills his fellow crew members in order to save the last dome. Then he takes control of the ship and heads out away from earth where he will ostensibly find...I dunno...something. To help him run the ship and tend to the last dome, Lowell has three little robot companions that he names Huey, Dewy and Louie. And so this happy quartet happily maintains their ship and forest. But, guilt begins to wear on Lowell. And his little robot companions start to get picked off one by one. Finally, there's Lowell and one good droid remaining. Realizing that he is going insane with grief and that the remaining ships from earth are pursuing him, Lowell teaches the his one undamaged droid to tend the forest on its own. Then he jettisons the dome and blows up his ship, killing himself and his remaining crippled droid. The last thing we see is the little dome floating in the vastness of space as Joan Baez clobbers us over the head once more with THE MESSAGE.

So what's wrong with the film? Well, okay, for starters, why are the domes in outer space to begin with? I mean, if the earth is so polluted that all of the remaining forests have to be put under glass, wouldn't it have been a whole lot cheaper - not to mention safer - to build the domes right there on terra firma, rather than blasting them into deep space? And couldn't a world capable of building such awesome spaceships figure out a way to protect its remaining natural resources? And if the little droids could be trained to take care of the plants and animals in the domes just as well as a person, then why did they need the people up on the ships to take care of the domes? Why not just program the robots from the start? And when they decide to return the ships to commercial service, why BLOW UP THE DOMES?? Why not simple jettison the domes with the little robots on them to take care of them and send the ships home? That way they could always go back and pick up the domes at some future date when they wizened up. After all, it's not like they need the domes - they BLEW THEM UP! And finally, why did we have to have Joan Baez driving THE MESSAGE home in song like someone driving spikes through our skulls? The movie pushed THE MESSAGE just fine without her whiny singing.

Having said all of that, I would now like to say that I really love this movie. No, it's true. Silent Running has great visuals, outstanding models (this from the era when they used to actually construct space ship models), a pretty good story, and what is probably Bruce Dern's finest on-camera performance ever. I mean, Freeman Lowell is a really complicated character. Here's a guy who commits a serious wrong (killing all of his crew mates) in order to prevent another serious wrong (the wanton destruction of earth's remaining habitats) and then goes slowly insane trying to deal with the grief he's suffering on account of what he's done. And Dern pulls it off brilliantly. This is essentially a one-man movie (not counting the robots, who almost steal the show). Dern is passionate, even zealous in his love of nature. Yet he's also a scientist, and so he has the cold, rational aspect to him as well. But above all, he's a human being who cannot deal with the fact that he has taken the lives of other human beings and that he must spend the rest of his life in isolation. It takes a really good actor to pull all of this off and make it believable. The only other actors I've seen do it as well are Will Smith in I am Legend and Paul Mantee in Robinson Crusoe on Mars. I will also point out that the destruction of the Valley Forge at the end of the movie is so well done that it puts the destruction of the Death Star at the end of Star Wars to shame. Lucas should have taken a cue from Douglas Trumbull and gone with the less is more theory.

Silent Running is rated G and has a runtime of 89 minutes. It's filmed in technicolor and widescreen.