Today, we are honored to have a guest post from Michael Wilmington, co-author with Joseph McBride of “John Ford,” and film critic for Movie City News, www.moviecitynews.com.
“The Wizard of Oz” is a movie that most of us know and that many of us love: an almost flabbergastingly wonderful 1939 musical-fantasy-comedy based on L. Frank Baum’s classic children’s book.
The Wizard of Oz bouquet features festive yellow flowers: chrysanthemums, roses and alstroemeria.
It’s an ultimate quest story, a ding-dong doozy of a musical show and a prime product of the Hollywood Dream factory in its unquestioned Golden Age: wondrously relating the marvelous picaresque travels of Dorothy Gale (Judy Garland) and her three living-toy companions through the dreamland of Oz.
The Baum characters, and the actors so perfectly matched to them here, are the stuff of Hollywood stardust and movie legend: Ray Bolger as the floppy-limbed, seeming-simpleton Scarecrow who thinks his lot would be improved “If I only had a brain.” Jack Haley, Jr., as the rusted-shut, funnel-hatted Tin Man robot who weepily laments “If I only had a heart.” Bert Lahr as the ferocious-sounding but lily-livered Cowardly Lion who’s “afraid there’s no denyin’, I’m just a dandy Lion,” and dreams of the day “If I only had da noive!”
And the others: Sweet Billie Burke as the Good Witch Glinda. Tart Margaret Hamilton as the Wicked Witch of the West and her nasty human alter-ego, bad Miss Gulch. Clara Blandick and Charley Grapewin and as Dorothy’s Norman Rockwell-esque guardians Aunt Em and Uncle Henry. Frank Morgan, a chap who liked to imbibe and bar-gab with his good Irish actor buddies Spencer Tracy, Jimmy Cagney and Pat O’Brien, playing the eloquent but sometimes flustered Professor Miracle, and the initially intimidating but somewhat bogus Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Terry, as Toto, the little dog who isn’t in Kansas anymore.
And the leader of the pack, at sweet sixteen (but dressed younger): the fabulous, if tragic MGM songbird Garland as Dorothy, then at her peak, gloriously off with her three great pals to see the Wizard.
What a trip! “Over the Rainbow.” Miss Gulch’s revenge! That Kansas cyclone! Those magnificent Munchkins! (And, as an off-screen bonus, all the offstage tall/small tales of the real-life pint-size performers and their wild revelry at the Culver Hotel.) The ruby slippers! The Yellow Brick Road! The zonk-out poppy field! The Horse of a Different Color! The flying monkeys! “I‘m melting! I’m melting!“ The Wizard’s canny wish-granting! Professor Miracle‘s errant balloon! “There’s no place like home!”
But really, there’s no place like MGM’s Oz. Never was. Never will be. Here’s a movie with not just one or two memorable scenes and moments, but with practically nothing but. A show where, in the immortal words of Oz song lyricist E. Y. “Yip” Harburg, the “dreams that you dream really do come true.“ Faced with all that pure joy and cinematic splendor, the sometimes-acerbic critic Pauline Kael, in her New Yorker capsule, could only offer one word: “Heaven.”
In partnership with Warner Home Video's release of the 70th Anniversary Ultimate Collector’s Edition of the film, Teleflora has created a commemorative bouquet. It’s available through a local Teleflora florist or online at teleflora for $64.95.
Come back tomorrow to read Part Two!
