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.

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.

Ninotchka (1939)

France, prior to World War II. Three Russian bureaucrats - Iranoff (Sig Ruman), Buljanoff (Felix Bressart) and Kopalski (Alexander Granach) - arrive in Paris. Their mission? To raise money for the Soviet Union by selling jewelry confiscated during the revolution. Only one problem. The original owner of the jewels - the Countess Swana (Ina Claire) - is in Paris also. And she's not happy about the Soviet Union selling what used to be hers. She sends her friend Leon (Melvyn Douglass) to stop them. So he does. With a law suit. While they wait for the legal process to run its course, Leon introduces Iranoff, Buljanoff and Kopalski to Parisian food, Parisian women and Parisian joi de vie. They're more than happy to wait on the Parisian legal system. But their boss, the cold and calculating Razinin (Bela Lugosi) is not so happy to wait. He sends Ninotchka (Greta Garbo), his best operative, to hurry the situation along. And here's where the movie really gets going. Ninotchka meets Leon by chance on the street. He becomes infatuated with her at once. "A Russian!" he says. "I love Russians." He follows her to the top of the Eiffel tower. There he suggests they return to his apartment. They make love - 1930s style - they talk, they embrace, the camera fades, you fill in the blanks. Then she discovers that he's the one who brought the law suit against the selling of the jewels. She quickly leaves. But Leon is not discouraged. He continues to pursue her. One day, he follows her to a little restaurant, where he attempts to amuse her. She's remains as stone faced as ever. Without any warning, his chair tips over and he crashes to the floor. Then the unthinkable happens - Garbo laughs.

Kids today might think this is no big deal. But in 1939? This was something to talk about. Garbo didn't laugh. She might smile. She might giggle - slightly. But she didn't laugh. Garbo was something that we simply do not have today. She was a screen presence. She was something ethereal, a person who didn't exist in the real world where mortals dwelt. She lived only on the silver screen in the darkened theater. She had a quality about her that is hard to define. It had always been there. She was already a legend when she made her fist talking movie, Anna Christie, in 1930. She remained a legend - and a mystery - until her death in 1990. She had many lovers, but never married. She was beloved by millions. When she died, France gave her a state funeral. On screen, she was matchless. She could show a panoply of emotions with the arch of one eye brow. Ninotchka was her first, and only, comedy. It was also her penultimate film. She was brilliant and funny, playing the foil for Melvyn Douglas, who was as humorous in his suave way as ever. Few actors have the ability to make you laugh just by standing there in a tuxedo. Douglas could. His face was so expressive that he could set an audience roaring with the twitch of his mouth. Of course, today we just don't get it. I guess we're too sophisticated. Now we have to have bathroom humor shoved into our faces in order to laugh. But 1939 was a simpler time.

Ninotchka was one of director Ernst Lubitcsh's three favorite movies. It's easy to see why. The film has a warmth to it, a kind of joy in it that doesn't appear often in movies. Every actor in the film is perfectly cast in their parts. The sets are gorgeous, the dialogue quick and witty, the screenplay brilliantly funny. Leon eventually wins the heart of Ninotchka. Then the jewels are sold, and Nonitchka, Iranoff, Buljanoff and Kopalski are sent back to Moscow. Leon's plan to get Ninotchka back is both clever and hilarious. Hollywood was very good at turning out "screwball comedies" back in the 1930s and 40s. Somewhere along the way, they lost their touch. We are less fortunate today for that loss. But we still have the classics to fall back on. Ninotchka is one of the best.

Ninotchka is rated G and is filmed in glorious black and white.

On Approval (1944)

One of the wonderful things about Netflix is that I get to stream a lot of questionable movies that I might not otherwise rent or buy. Not questionable like in bad taste, but questionable as in I'm not sure if it's gonna be any good. Since I pay one price no matter how many movie I watch, I can watch quite a few. Every now and then, I strike a gem. That's precisely what I found when I watched On Approval last night. A British production, filmed during WWII - I didn't even know that Brits made movies during the war years - On Approval is a charming, witty little romcom about two Edwardian couples who decide to "try out" marriage to see if it will suit them. George, 10th Duke of Bristol (Clive Brook, who also directed), is a down at the heels royal who's been forced to rent out his estate to the daughter of an American pickle magnate, Helen Hale (Googie Withers). George's best friend, Richard Halton (Roland Culver), lacks not only money but also title. Together the two of them wander about London sponging off anyone they can, until Richard falls in love with Maria Wislack (Beatrice Lilly), a widow whom George despises. The feeling is mutual. Richard wants to marry Maria, but she'll only marry him if he agrees to spend every day with her for three weeks on a deserted island off the Scottish coast - at night he must agree to row back to the mainland and stay in a hotel. Richard agrees to give it a try. Meanwhile, George and Helen, who are also flirting with the idea of marriage, decide to accompany Richard and Maria, much to the latter's dismay. When they arrive, they discover that all of the hotels on the mainland are booked up, so Richard and George are forced to stay at Maria's chateau on the island. Then all of the servants pack up and leave, mistakenly believing that the two couples are living in sin. The quartet is left to cook and clean for themselves, something that Helen and Richard do admirably but that both Maria and George refuse to do. After three weeks, Helen has realized what a lazy cad George is and what a thoroughly nice man Richard is. Likewise Richard has figured out that Maria is a whining, complaining, hyper-critical woman, and that Helen is something of a sweetheart. I'll leave it up to you to decide where everything goes from there. Clive Brooks' On Approval is a great little movie that has slid under the radar for many decades, and it's one that is worthy of a complete restoration. The story is clever, the characters are unique, and the dialogue is fast and witty. There's a great prologue narrated by E. V. H. Emmet, a British producer, writer and actor who enjoyed a film career spanning over forty years. Anyone looking for a little clean, light-hearted entertainment will enjoy On Approval.

On approval is rated G and is available in black and white on Netflix and DVD from Amazon.