FILME: O MÁGICO DE OZ

Título Original: The Wizard of Oz
Gênero: Musical
Duração: 101 minutos
Ano de Lançamento: (EUA) 1939
Estúdio: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer
Distribuidora: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer / Warner Bros.
Direção: Victor Fleming
Roteiro: Noel Langley, Florence Ryerson e Edgar allan Woolf, baseado em livro de L. Frank Baum
Produção: Mervyn LeRoy
Elenco
Judy Garland (Dorothy Gale)
Frank Morgan (Prof. Marvel / Mágico de Oz / Guarda de Oz / Porteiro da Cidade de Esmeraldas)
Ray Bolger (Hunk / Espantalho)
Bert Lahr (Zeke / Leão)
Jack Haley (Hickory / Homem de Lata)
Billie Burke (Glinda)
Margaret Hamilton (Srta. Gulch / Bruxa Má do Oeste)
Charley Grapewin (Tio Henry)
Pat Walshe (Nikko)
Clara Blandick (Tia Em)
Sinopse: Em Kansas vive Dorothy Gale (Judy Garland), uma aluna de 11 anos que vive na fazenda dos seus tios Henry (Charley Grapewin) e Em (Clara Blandick). Após o cão de Dorothy, Totó, “atacar’ a insuportável Srta. Gulch (Margaret Hamilton), que, irritada, vai até Henry e Em com uma ordem judicial que a autoriza pôr o Totó “para dormir”. Apesar dos apelos de Dorothy, os tios dela se sentem obrigados em cumprir a lei, então Gulch pega Totó e o coloca em uma cesta na bicicleta dela. Porém o cachorro foge e corre de volta para a fazenda. Temendo que Gulch volte para pegar Totó, Dorothy foge. Na estrada conhece o professor Marvel (Frank Morgan), um adivinho falso que deixa Dorothy fascinada com seus “dons”. Ele entende que Dorothy fugiu de casa, então sutilmente a persuade para voltar para casa. Porém, quando Dorothy e Totó voltam, surge um tornado enorme, que se move pelas planícies na direção da fazenda. Os colonos Zeke (Bert Lahr), Hickory (Jack Haley) e Hunk (Ray Bolger) correm com Em e Henry para um abrigo, fechando as portas antes de verem Dorothy, que não teve tempo de se proteger com eles. Dorothy corre para dentro da casa, quando uma tela de janela arrancada pelo vento voa através do quarto e bate na sua cabeça. Logo ela descobre que a casa da fazenda foi arrancada do chão pelo ciclone e está sendo levada para o centro do tornado. Olhando pela janela, vê voando com a força do vento os animais de fazenda, um homem remando um barco e até mesmo uma mulher idosa, que calmamente tricota na cadeira de balanço. Dorothy também vê Gulch pedalando sua bicicleta, mas de repente se transforma em uma bruxa horrorosa montando uma vassoura e usando um chapéu pontudo. A casa começa a descer, girando até o solo e aterrissando com um estrondo. Apreensiva, ela abre a porta da casa e seus olhos se deslumbram com um lugar maravilhoso. Dorothy tem certeza que não está mais no Kansas, principalmente quando, através de uma bolha colorida, surge Glinda (Billie Burke), a Bruxa do Norte, perguntando se Dorothy era uma bruxa boa ou má. O motivo da pergunta é que os munchkins, os pequenos habitantes daquele lugar, disseram a Glinda que uma bruxa derrubara uma casa sobre a Bruxa Má do Leste, matando-a e os libertando-os de suas maldades. A Bruxa do Leste foi esmagada e agora só se pode ver suas pernas, que usava mágicos sapatos de rubi. Porém uma nuvem de fumaça vermelha anuncia a chegada da Bruxa Má do Oeste, que é igual à Srta. Gulch, e ameaça Dorothy tentando arrebatar os sapatos de rubi, que permanecem nos pés da sua irmã morta. Entretanto a Bruxa do Oeste não tem nenhum real poder na terra dos munchkins e, antes que possa pôr as mãos nos sapatos mágicos, eles surgem nos pés de Dorothy, graças a uma magia de Glinda. A bruxa jura vingança diante de uma terrificada Dorothy, antes de desaparecer em outra nuvem de fumaça vermelha. Dorothy conta para Glinda que ela quer ir para sua casa no Kansas. Glinda não pode ajudá-la, só o grande e Todo-Poderoso Mágico de Oz (Frank Morgan). Glinda diz que ele tem este poder e Dorothy busca a ajuda dele na Cidade de Esmeraldas, onde ele reside. Glinda aponta para ela a Estrada de Tijolos Amarelos e lhe diz para seguir este caminho para chegar na Cidade de Esmeraldas. Antes de partir Glinde diz para ela nunca tirar os sapatos. No caminho conhece um espantalho (Ray Bolger) que quer ter um cérebro e, como visitará um mago, pode ser que ele arrume um cérebro para o espantalho, assim resolvem viajar juntos. Mais adiante encontram um homem de lata (Jack Haley), que anseia por um coração, então os três passam a viajar juntos. Logo depois se deparam com um leão covarde (Bert Lahr), que quer ter coragem, então o quarteto fica mais do que determinado em achar o mágico de Oz.

Comentário: grande filme e com técnicas bem avançadas para a época…

MÚSICA: LADY LINN – I DON’T WANNA DANCE

Matéria publicada no Jornal A Tarde dia 6 de novembro de 2009 (hoje) no Caderno 2

Clássico O Mágico de Oz comemora 70 anos

João Carlos Sampaio, crítico de cinema

Os 70 anos do clássico “O Mágico de Oz” (1939), de Victor Fleming, garantiram a volta da obra ao mercado, agora em edição especial com quatro discos. Além de uma versão restaurada do filme, os fãs e cinéfilos podem conferir muitos extras, dos bastidores a cenas excluídas da edição final.

O filme traz Judy Garland, protagonista da trama, cantando e dançando em números musicais inesquecíveis, embalados por uma inspirada trilha sonora, que rendeu dois Oscar (um deles para a canção-tema, “Over the Rainbow”). Tem ainda aqueles tipos fantásticos da história, o Espantalho, o Leão e o Homem de Lata, que alimentam uma fácula encantadora, para todas as idades.

Quem nunca viu o filme (ou nunca leu o livro) vai conhecer a vida pacata de Dorothy (Judy Garland), uma menina que mora com os tios (Charley Grapewin e Clara Bandick) numa fazenda, no Kansas. Ela é feliz, mas que se deixa impressionar facilmente.

Ultimamente tem estado preocupada com as ameças da vizinha mal humorada (a atriz Margaret Hamilton) que a está decidida a dar um fim no cãozinho de estimação da menina. Para compensar, tem o amor dos tios e dos simpáticos empregados da fazenda, tipos vividos pelos atores Bert Lahr, Jack Haley e Ray Bolger.

Realidade paralela

Mesmo amada, Dorothy resolve fugir, temendo pela sorte de seu cão. Na estrada, conhece um mágico fajuto, vivido pelo ator Frank Morgan, que acaba convencendo-se a regressar ao lar.

Só que, na volta, ela é surpreendida por um tornado e perde os sentidos. Daí por diante, a menina vai experimentar uma espécie de realidade paralela. Acorda num mundo colorido, bem diferente do que está acostumada a ver na fazenda.

Com ajuda da Bruxa Boa (a atriz Billie Burke), ela ganha sapatos cor de rubi e com eles atravessa o caminho de tijolos amarelos, chegando ao mundo do Mágico de Oz, onde vai viver a maior de todas as aventuras.

Este filme se inspira no livro homônimo (The Wizard of Oz), de L. Frank Baum, que foi transposto para a tela em sua superprodução que até hoje preserva seus encantos.

Os três discos extras deste lançamento trazem o trabalho de restauração do filme, a trilha sonora, o making of, o “legado de Oz” e mais um mundo de curiosidades. O único senão fica por conta da opção de tela no formato convencional de TV, sem preservar a proporção original vista nos cinemas.

(“O Mágico de Oz”/The Wizard of Oz – Estados Unidos, 1939/ De Victor Fleming)

The 7 year old little boy clinging to Leslie Howard in the photo above is Mickey Kuhn, a child star of the 1930s and 1940s. He was cast as Beau Wilkes,  Ashley Wilkes and Melanie’s son, in the legendary film Gone with the Wind. This film role was not his first– he began working in films at age 2! And it would not be his last either. In fact, he would reunite with a certain GWTW alum in a 1951 film. But more about that later… Mr. Kuhn kindly agreed to sit down with Vivien-Leigh.com to answer some questions about Gone with the Wind and Vivien Leigh. Mr.  Kuhn will be participating in the Marietta GWTW Re-Premiere weekend so those of you who are attending will have the opporunity to see and meet him. To learn more about Mr. Kuhn and his acting career, check out his mini biography on IMDB:

One of Hollywood’s staple child actors during the 30s and 40s, Mickey Kuhn played alongside many a top Hollywood star from Leslie Howard and Conrad Nagel’s son to playing Dick Tracy’s ward. Once he reached the “awkward teens” stage, however, he found himself primarily unemployed or in unbilled parts and looked elsewhere for career satisfaction.

Born Theodore Matthew Michael Kuhn, Jr. on September 21, 1932 in Waukegan, Illinois, he was the younger of two children born to Theodore Sr. and the former Pearl Hicks. The family moved to Hollywood during the Depression where his father found reliable work as a meat cutter. Mickey added to the family income at age 2 when, by chance, he was cast by Fox Studios for the movie Change of Heart (1934) starring the preeminent movie couple at the time, Janet Gaynor and Charles Farrell. Attending kindergarten at the Mark-Ken School for professional children, he returned to films as a 5-year-old in A Doctor’s Diary (1937) made by Paramount. His devoted mother oversaw and protected him throughout most of his young career. 1939 was a banner year for Mickey as it was for Hollywood itself, appearing as Crown Prince Augustin in the “A” picture Juarez (1939) starring Paul Muni and Bette Davis, and as Ashley Wilkes’ son Beau in the Civil War classic Gone with the Wind (1939). {click here to read the rest of this mini biography >>>}

V-L.COM: Let’s begin with something fun! How many times have you watched GWTW?

Mickey Kuhn: Not that many……….only about 8 times over 70 years.

V-L.COM: Do you think Scarlett O’Hara got Rhett Butler back in the end?

Mickey Kuhn: No !! I think he wanted to settle down and have a family while Scarlett wanted the “exciting” lifestyle.

V-L.COM: Now let’s get down to business. What memories do you have about working on the set of Gone with the Wind in 1939?

Mickey Kuhn: In all humility I must say that for me it was “just another day at work.” However, when Victor Fleming took me aside and began creating a “scene” for me about Melanie’s death, to get me to cry, and again when he let me “take a punch” at him to get me to stop crying are the two most memorable times. However, when Cammie and I had a scene with Clark Gable and I ‘flubbed’ my lines THREE times, that was VERY memorable.

V-L.COM: Who did you enjoy most on set?

Mickey Kuhn: Victor Fleming and Clark Gable and of course, the initial “First Love” ( at age 7), Cammie King.

with Cammie King (Bonnie) and Clark Gable (Rhett)

V-L.COM: Did you attend the 1939 premiere or any other re-premiere event?

Mickey Kuhn: The first event I attended was the 50th Anniversary in Atlanta, the “60th” (really the 59th because Warner Bros. couldn’t count) in Los Angeles, and of course we are ALL looking forward to the BIG event in Marietta this coming November, the 70th Anniversary celebration.

V-L.COM: For those who didn’t know, this year marks the 70th anniversary of  Gone with the Wind, the film, and in honor of it, the Marietta GWTW Museum is hosting a Re-Premiere weekend November 13 and 14. You, Mr. Kuhn, along with the Ann Rutherford, Mary Anderson, Cammie King Conlon, Patrick Curtis, and Greg Geise, will participate in celebrating this legendary film. What does Gone with the Wind mean to you and how has it affected your life?

Mickey Kuhn: To have been a part of such a great film is, of course, a great honor. To have your name listed in the credits along with the great stars of the day is an honor as well. But the REALLY memorable thing is to have been able to meet and share good times with Ann, Cammie, Patrick, Greg and especially the late Fred Crane is what really means the most to me. As to how it has affected my life?? Well, I have done more radio and tv interviews for local stations here in Boston than I ever have in my life. Also, the local newspapers here in the Boston area as well as the Naples, FL area have published some very flattering stories.

V-L.COM: When were you first introduced to Vivien Leigh, and what was your first impression?

Mickey Kuhn: I was first INTRODUCED to Lady Olivier on the set of Streetcar Named Desire I played the sailor who put Blanche on the right [streetcar]. Fred Crane and I used to ‘rag’ on each other about having the first opening lines of GREAT movies. He, of course, had the honors in GWTW and I, it was pointed out to me MANY years later by Dr. Chris Sullivan, had the honors in Streetcar. My first impression of her was that she was a “classy” lady who was a great actress and not only a pleasure to work with but an actress who brought out the BEST in her supporting actors.

V-L.COM: What were the qualities you most admired in her personality?

Mickey Kuhn: She was most gracious, curious about my career goals in the acting field and told me that it was a pleasure to be working with me again…………..WOW !!!!!

V-L.COM: How did you rate her as an actress for the screen?

Mickey Kuhn: ONE OF THE GREATS !!!

V-L.COM: Have you any anecdote or story about her?

Mickey Kuhn: When Lady Olivier was told that I played Beau Wilkes in GWTW she had filming stopped and asked that I come see her in her dressing room. I of course took this as a “summons” and was prepared for a proper British dress down about my ‘lack’ of acting skills. Quite the contrary, we chatted for about 30 minutes. It ranks as one of the most unforgettable experiences of my career.

V-L.COM: I must ask…  what did Miss Leigh and you talk about during those 30 minutes?

Mickey Kuhn: As a VERY nervous 18 year old and being alone with a movie ICON the first few minutes are STILL blurry.  However, when I think about it my “powers of recall” seem to clear up the blur.  Actually the time I spent with Lady Olivier was NOT like one would expect.  She was truly interested in me, my education and my career path.  She really wanted to know about my acting career and whether or not I was going to continue with it.  I did answer her questions in a nervous manner but I guess satisfactorily because she smiled at my responses.

V-L.COM: What an honor that must have been.

Mickey Kuhn: You are SO right.  Every time I think or talk about that meeting I kind of get ”chills.”

Vivien Leigh and Mickey Kuhn in Streetcar

V-L.COM: You also worked with Vivien Leigh on A Streetcar Named Desire. Describe the scene you had together… how did she prepare?

Mickey Kuhn: As I have mentioned, I was the sailor who helped her on the right streetcar to her destination. At this time we had no reason to chat with each other because she was ALWAYS in character and expected everyone else to be equally prepared. At the conclusion of that particular scene she said “thank you” and went to her dressingroom and “the rest is history !!” As for her preparation for the role, I have no idea. She was a GREAT actress and did what she had to do to prepare. What was her level of expertise and professionalism? In my opinion, she was the ultimate professional. That is the best part of my career, I have had the greatest of opportunities to work with some of the “greats” in early motion pictures, i.e. Clark Gable, Leslie Howard, John Wayne, James Stewart, Bette Davis to name a few.

V-L.COM: She did offer you any advice?

Mickey Kuhn: Not really. She simply expected a great deal of her supporting cast and in my opinion, she got it. Believe me, there was a bit of pressure on an 18 year old to work opposite an Academy Award winner. (As it turned out, I am the ONLY actor to have appeared with Vivien Leigh in BOTH of her Academy Award winning performances [again information courtesy of Dr. Chris Sullivan].

Mr. Kuhn, May 2009.

V-L.COM: Thank you, Mr. Kuhn, for participating in this interview! Stay tuned for additional interviews in the coming days and weeks. Stay tuned!

1939: Gone with the Wind di Victor Fleming

Sempre in testa agli incassi il film che meglio rappresenta la potenza e la grandezza di Hollywood.

Da sempre i cinefili si dividono su quale debba essere considerato “il film”  per eccellenza: chi opta per Casablanca, chi per Via col vento. E’ indubbio però che se ai posteri si volesse indicare una pellicola che da sola esprime tutte le potenzialità, nel bene e nel male, del cinema americano la scelta non può non cadere che sul film diretto da Victor Fleming ma voluto prodotto ed effettivamente creato da David O. Selznick nel 1939 (anno d’oro per Hollywood: oltre Via col vento abbiamo Ombre rosse, Donne e Il Mago di Oz -1-).

Innanzitutto una premessa. Qualche considerazione su alcune differenze lampanti tra la produzione hollywoodiana di oggi e quella di ieri.

Tagliando il tutto con l’accetta è possibile sostenere che oggi a trionfare sia lo spettacolo, ieri si puntava sulla narrazione.

Peculiarità del cinema classico era il raccontare una storia coerente, una trama fitta e rifinita basata su personaggi e uno sviluppo lineare dall’inizio alla fine: il rapporto causa-effetto era chiaro ed inequivocabile, gli avvenimenti erano motivati e chiaramente spiegati. La stragrande maggioranza dei film di oggi sono spesso fragorosi, stracolmi di azione e di momenti spettacolari (le sfumature più delicate della struttura narrativa sono considerate una distrazione, una perdita di tempo).

Ebbene uno dei motivi che spiega il successo ininterrotto di Via col vento (il suo essere continuamente visto senza stancare) è il saper unificare in modo mirabile questi due aspetti caratteristici del cinema statunitense -2-.

Come separare le numerose sequenze d’azione di grande spettacolarità che colpiscono la nostra attenzione dalle emozioni che ci procura la romantica e tormentata storia d’amore fra l’affascinante Rhett e la solare e caparbia Rossella?

Quintessenza dell’epoca d’oro dello “studio system”, definito da Andrew Sarris “the most moviest of all movies”, tratto dal celebre romanzo di Margaret Mitchell, il film ebbe dapprima come regista George Cukor che abbandonerà, sembra, per polemica sui continui interventi sulla sceneggiatura da parte di Selznick. Dopo una breve parentesi che vede alla direzione Sam Wood e William Cameron Menzies, abbiamo Victor Fleming che aveva appena finito di girare Il Mago di Oz (il critico Franco la Polla afferma che i due lavori “sono film essenzialmente simili, risposte diverse ma consonanti a una stessa mozione storica e ideologica -chi meglio di Scarlet potrebbe far propria l’affermazione di Dorothy che ‘nessun posto è bello come casa mia’?-. Li avvicina il colorismo esuberante, la messa in scena di un mito agrario, la riaffermazione del valore salvifico della terra e della casa… Fleming ha provveduto con Il Mago di Oz alla costruzione di una favola, con Via col vento coordina la ricostruzione di un sogno, di un’altra ‘neverland’ qual è il Sud di Margaret Mitchell”). La prima si ebbe ad Atlanta il 14 dicembre, un anno dopo il film si aggiudica 10 Oscar (in Italia arriverà solo nel 1948).

Si avvertì subito che Via col vento era qualcosa di mai visto prima (e che difficilmente si sarebbe potuto vedere). Il 16 dicembre il New York Times scrisse: “E’ il più grande ‘murale’ in movimento che abbiamo mai visto, e la più ambiziosa avventura produttiva nella storia di Hollywood”. Variety il 20 dicembre: “Un autentico grande film, già destinato a infrangere qualsiasi record di box-office”.   Vari decenni dopo Morando Morandini affermerà: “Esisterà pure una ragione profonda se è il solo film nella storia dell’industria americana del cinema che viene riproposto al pubblico, con periodicità regolare, ogni cinque o sei anni, ogni volta con successo”.

Sicuramente Via col vento è il film su cui è stata scritta la maggiore quantità di libri e quindi di lui si sa tutto, storia e leggenda. Sarà utile sottolineare soltanto che uno dei motivi che spiega il ricorrente successo del film è nella sorprendente modernità del personaggio principale femminile (Scarlet, tradotto in italiano con Rossella). Personaggio oltremodo complesso e multiforme: è seducente, capricciosamente svagata, cercatrice di marito e soldi, potenzialmente donna perduta, futura dark lady, ha senso del dovere ma anche spirito di autoconservazione, si fissa tenacemente a un desiderio (avere Ashley a ogni costo) ma sa sopravvivere a esso riconoscendone con pragmatismo l’inconsistenza e la volatilità. C’è tutto di tutto in Scarlet. È soprattutto, come ha scritto Michael Wood, “una delle grandi celebrazioni americane dell’io”. Afferma Paola Cristalli della Cineteca di Bologna: “Perfetta incarnazione d’un mito funzionale, Scarlet resta nondimeno una vivente deviazione alla regola, una tentazione anarchica, un elemento di disturbo delle discipline familiari e sentimentali, un’irreducibile che sa vivere del proprio desiderio ma sa anche non morire con esso. Anche per questo Scarlet O’Hara ha continuato a resistere, nel tempo”. La memorabile frase da lei pronunciata e che conclude il film la simboleggia mirabilmente: “Dopotutto, domani è un altro giorno”.

Vivien Leigh, Clark Gable, Leslie Howard, Olivia de Havilland sono i quattro immortali protagonisti, ognuno dei quali da solo rappresenta un pezzo importante della storia del cinema.

Come non concordare con quanto ebbe a scrivere Time (“E’ la fiamma eterna della cultura popolare… e c’è da scommettere che non c’è giorno o notte in cui, da qualche parte del mondo, la Scarlet di Vivien Leigh e il Rhett di Clark Gable non si incontrino di nuovo su uno schermo”) ? E come non essere d’accordo con John Russell Taylor che, nella sua opera Films and Filming, sostiene: “Non è certo il più gran capolavoro d’arte cinematografica, ma quanti potrebbero giurare, mano sul cuore, che se dovessero scegliere, prima di essere spediti per sempre nello spazio profondo, tra rivedere Via col vento o uno qualsiasi dei capolavori garantiti dalla più autorevole lista dei dieci-migliori-film, non preferirebbero soffrire e sopravvivere ancora una volta con Scarlet? C’è qualcosa, nella monumentale solidità di questo film, che gli garantisce una sorta di immunità rispetto al tempo, qualcosa che né l’avvento degli schermi giganti, né i più spettacolari effetti speciali sono riusciti a togliergli”.

p.s.

Nel 1989 è stato selezionato dal National Film Registry per la conservazione ed è stato riversato in forma digitale.

note
(1) Su MyMovies tutti i film del 39: impressionante i capolavori che in tutto il mondo sono stati realizzati in questo anno!

(2) “La MGM ha fatto di Via col vento il film a più lungo sfruttamento commerciale della storia del cinema, redistribuito nelle sale per quasi quarant’anni, consegnato alla TV americana solo nel 1976…, nuovamente distribuito nel 1989 dopo il restauro… salutato allora dalla stampa con entusiasmo quasi patriottico”. La prova ulteriore della straordinaria e costante popolarità del film è che da tempo “un intrattenimento politico di alto share, condotto da un famoso giornalista non poco marpione, si apre proprio sulle note a effetto glorioso del tema di Tara di Max Steiner” (Victor Fleming e Via col vento, Lindau 2001)

bibliografia

Gianni Amelio, Il vizio del cinema, Einaudi 2004

Pierre Bourdieu, La distinzione: critica sociale del gusto, Il Mulino 1983

Paolo Mereghetti, Dizionario dei film, Baldini e Castoldi 2000

Paola Cristalli, Victor Fleming e Via col vento, Lindau 2001

Franco La Polla, Sogno e realtà americana nel cinema di Hollywood, Laterza 1987

Laura-Luisa-Morando Morandini, Morandini: Dizionario dei film, Zanichelli 2008

scheda

premi e riconoscimenti

Dedicado a Dorothy.

El Mago de Oz cumple 70 año desde que fuera exhibida por vez primera en 1939, habiéndose convertido no sólo en una de las películas más vista de todos los tiempo, sino también un clásico e ícono del cine americano de la época.

El Mago de Oz se estrenó en el cine un doce de agosto de 1939 teniendo una acogida no tan exitosa. El filme fue uno de los primeros a colores de la industria en Hollywood, de hecho el film comienza en blanco y negro y no es sino hasta cuando Dorothy llega a Oz cuando la magia y la fantasía convierte todo a color! Sin embargo, con el tiempo el filme vendría a convertise en un clásico, siendo retransmitido en televisión casi todos los años a partir de 1959.

La película dirigida por Victor Fleming y protagonizada por la legendaria Judy Garland se basa en un libro del escritor L. Frank Baum   El Maravilloso Mago de Oz,  quien también escribiera otros once  libros basados en las historias de Oz. Los libros de Baum sobre Oz también fueron inspiración para otras películas y obras de teatros de historia similares.  La película comienza cuando un huracán se lleva a Dorothy y su perro Toto hasta Oz, donde debe buscar al Mago para poder regresar hasta su pueblo de origen en Kansas. El el camino de piedras amarillas, se encuentra a un espantapájaros, un hombre de lata, y a un león cobarte, quienes a su vez le acompañan, en medio de música y baile, para hacer una petición propia al Mago de Oz.

 El tema ”Sobre el Arcoiris” (Over the rainbow) de la película no solo ganó un Oscar como la mejor canción del año sino que con el tiempo también se convertiría en una canción conocida y cantada por todo el mundo. La versión original la podemos ver en el video siguiente.

Poster Original de la película El Mago de Oz

El Mago de Oz

Já dizia o Espantalho:

Some people without brains do an awful lot of talking.

Preciso comentar?

Acho melhor cantar…  

…ou rever o ensaio maravilhoso que a Annie Leibovitz fez inspirado nesse clássico para a Vogue.

Produzido em 2005, o editorial completo feito com a Keira Knightley pode ser conferido aqui.

August 30, 1939

Wizard of Oz, Fantasy in Color, Comes to McDonald

Successfully combining for the first time, adult and juvenile appeal in a motion picture fantasy, “The Wizard of Oz,” comes to the McDonald Theater next Friday for an engagement of five days.

Hollywood believes that “The Wizard of Oz” basically served as the ideal fantasy for such an opportunity.  The book has been read by eighty million since it was written in 1900 and has always had as many grownup readers as children.  L. Frank Baum wrote to entertain children and to give grown-ups philosophy which would delight them.  This has been transferred to the screen.

Producer Mervyn LeRoy increased this all-family popularity by making the picture one hundred per cent musical with catchy tunes and clever lyrics.  He next added Technicolor and amazing “magic” which will intrigue audiences of all ages.  He sought reality by keeping make-ups in character but natural so that all stars could be recognized easily.  Lastly, he awarded the direction to Victor Fleming, famed for “Captain Courageous” and “Test Pilot.”

Featured in the picture are Judy Garland as Dorothy, Frank Morgan as The Wizard, Ray Bolger as the Scarecrow, Jack Haley as the Tin Woodman, Bert Lahr as the Cowardly Lion, Billie Burke as Glinda the Good Witch, Margaret Hamilton as the Wicked Witch, Charley Grapewin as Uncle Henry, Pat Walshe as Nikko and Clara Blandick as Aunt Em.  Practically every member of the cast is from musical comedy and all were stage celebrities.

The story has been maintained intact and no Oz reader will be disappointed in the screen version.  With increased realism to make Dorothy’s trip to Oz more believable, the story tells how the little Kansas farm girl gets caught in a cyclone and believes she is carried to Oz where she meets a Scarecrow who wants brains, a Tin Woodman who wants a heart and a Lion who seeks courage.  they all go to the Wizard to ask him to grant their wishes.  Dorothy’s wish is to go home again.  After many thrilling experiences, they finally get what they seek because the Wizard shows them it was within their own power to have these things all the time.

The picture is replete with amazing settings including the Emerald City, the buildings of which are great emerald domes and spires, the Land of the Munchkins with giant Hollyhocks larger than men, the Palace of the Wizard and the fantastic streets of Oz all filmed in Technicolor.

Included in the musical score are six new songs written by E.Y. Harburg and Harold Arlen, among them: “Over the Rainbow,” “If I Only Had a Brain, the Nerve, a Heart,” “We’re off to See the Wizard,” “The Merry Old Land of Oz,” “Ding Dong, the Witch is Dead” and “If I Were King of the Forest.”

Eugene Register-Guard

August 27, 1939

“Oz” Film’s Beautiful Fantasy Provides
Top Entertainment for All

Hollywood Outdoes Itself With Special Set Effects

By Alice Whitman
(Pinch-Hitting for Marian Aitchison, Times Movie Critic)

“Over the Rainbow” and into the land of heart’s desire, the beautiful fantasy, “The Wizard of Oz,” carries its audience just as surely as the cyclone whirls Dorothy into the country of the Munchkins.

“I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas any more,” the little heroine remarks with a wonder that is transmitted to the audience.  Breathtakingly lovely sets, lighting, costumes, make-up and musical scores more than fulfill expectations, making the play an even more satisfactory adaptation of the book than was “Goodbye Mr. Chips.”

Indeed the film performs the task of transition even better than does L. Frank Baum’s popular book.  The characters Dorothy meets in Oz turn out to be the disagreeable neighbor, Elvira Gulch, who appears as the Wicked Witch of the West; the bombastic magician, Frank Morgan, appears in several roles during their reception at the Emerald City, disclosing himself finally as the agreeable humbug; and the loveable farm hands, Ray Bolger, Jack Haley and Bert Lahr with their idiosyncrasies emphasized dream-fashion, appear as the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman and the Cowardly Lion, respectively.

Judy Garland’s lovely voice finds a place in the leading role in the tinkling lyrics popular several months before the coming of the picture—”Over the Rainbow,” “Ding Dong, the Witch is Dead,” “We’re Off to See the Wizard,” and others.  And her portrayal of the little farm girl who finds that the land of ones heart’s desire is right at home is something every child should see.

Ray Bolger, as the brainless Scarecrow, will stand first in your affections as he does in Dorothy’s, for his “husky-voiced” gallantry, his wistful yearning to “think of things he never thought before,” and his cheerful, floppy efforts to “pull himself together.”  Typical is his good-natured agreement when after an encounter with the winged monkies has scattered his hay inside all over the forest the Tin Woodman groans, “Well, that’s you all over.”

Jack Haley as the clattery, “heartless” Tin Woodman provokes laughter when with every weepy spell or rain storm he has to be gone over with the oil can.  And Bert Lahr remains himself through the guise of the cowardly “dandy lion.”  Frank Morgan is his stammering self too as he feeds hot dogs to Toto, drives the “horse of a different color,” and operates his “Whiz of a Wiz” mechanism in the castle of Oz.

Margaret Hamilton makes a delightfully wicked witch without the terrifying quality which frightened some little theater-goers in “Snow White.”  And Billie Burke, complete with golden curls, a wand and miraculous disappearing device, provides contrast as the charming Good Witch of the North.

The Scarecrow’s ears, the Lion’s jowls, the Tin Woodman’s chin and nose, the features of the animated apple trees and the wigs of the pompous little Munchkins, played by the Singer Midgets, are examples of perfect make-up artistry.  The last appear in one of the most impressive pageants in the picture, when Dorothy’s arrival in Oz marks first use of technicolor in the film, and the little people sing, dance and march in celebration of their liberation.

MGM’s Mervyn LeRoy, as producer of “The Wizard of Oz,” shares honors in its success with Victor Fleming, director, Douglas Shearer, recording director, E.Y. Harburg and Harold Arlen, composers, and a cast of 9,237.

St. Petersburg Times

The Wizard of Oz

 

The Wizard of Oz is a 1939 American musical-fantasy film mainly directed by Victor Fleming and based on the 1900 children’s novel The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum.  The film stars Judy Garland, Ray Bolger, Jack Haley, Bert Lahr, and Frank Morgan, with Billie Burke, Margaret Hamilton, Charles Grapewin, Clara Blandick, and the Singer Midgets as the Munchkins.

Tagline: Biggest Screen Sensation Since “Snow White”!

The film follows farmgirl Dorothy Gale (Judy Garland) who lives on a Kansas farm with her Aunt Em and Uncle Henry, but dreams of a better place “somewhere over the rainbow.” After being struck unconscious during a tornado by a window which has come loose from its frame, Dorothy dreams that she, her dog Toto, and the farmhouse are transported to the magical Land of Oz. There, the Good Witch of the North, Glinda (Billie Burke), advises Dorothy to follow the yellow brick road to the Emerald City and meet the Wizard of Oz, who can return her to Kansas. During her journey, she meets a Scarecrow (Ray Bolger), a Tin Man (Jack Haley), and a Cowardly Lion (Bert Lahr), who join her, hoping to receive what they lack themselves (a brain, a heart, and courage, respectively). All of this is done while also trying to avoid the Wicked Witch of the West (Margaret Hamilton) and her attempt to get her sister’s ruby slippers from Dorothy, who received them from Glinda.

 

Initially, The Wizard of Oz was not considered a commercial success in relation to its enormous budget, although it made a small profit and received largely favorable reviews. The impact it had upon release was reportedly responsible for the release of two other fantasy films in Technicolor the following year – The Blue Bird and The Thief of Bagdad. The songs from The Wizard of Oz became widely popular, with “Over the Rainbow” receiving the Academy Award for Best Original Song, and the film itself garnering several Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture.

The film was first telecast in 1956, but not repeated until 1959. But from 1959 to 1991, The Wizard of Oz was an annual television tradition in the United States, and through these showings, it has become one of the most famous films ever made.  It is still shown on television; although, beginning in 1991, it began to be telecast more often than simply once a year. The film received much more attention after its annual television screenings were so warmly embraced and has since become one of the most beloved films of all time. The Library of Congress names The Wizard of Oz as the most-watched film in history.  It is often ranked among the top ten best movies of all-time in various critics’ and popular polls, and it has provided many indelible quotes to the American cultural consciousness. Its signature song, “Over the Rainbow,” sung by Judy Garland, has been voted the greatest movie song of all time by the American Film Institute.

Casting:

Casting The Wizard of Oz was problematic, with actors shifting roles repeatedly at the beginning of filming. One of the primary changes was in the roles of the Tin Man and the Scarecrow. Ray Bolger was originally cast as the Tin Man, and Buddy Ebsen (later famous for his role as Jed Clampett on the popular 1960s TV show The Beverly Hillbillies) was to play the Scarecrow. Bolger, unhappy with being assigned the role of the Tin Man, convinced producer Mervyn LeRoy to recast him in the role of the Scarecrow. Ebsen did not object to the change; he recorded all of his songs, went through all the rehearsals as the Tin Man, and started filming with the rest of the cast.  However, nine days after filming began, Ebsen suffered a reaction to the aluminum powder makeup he wore as the Tin Man; the powder had coated his lungs from his breathing it in as it was applied daily. By that point in critical condition, Ebsen had to be hospitalized and left the project. MGM did not publicize the reasons for Ebsen’s departure until decades later in a documentary about the movie, and even his replacement, Jack Haley, did not initially know the reason.

The makeup used for Jack Haley was quietly changed to an aluminum paste makeup; although it did not have the same dire effect on Haley, he did at one point suffer from an unpleasant reaction to it. Despite his near-death experience with the makeup, Ebsen outlived all the principal players, although his film career was damaged by the incident. Because of his illness, followed by his subsequent service in the Coast Guard, his career did not fully recover until the 1950s, when he began a string of popular film and TV series appearances that would continue into the 1980s. Although his lungs had presumably recovered from the effects of the powder makeup, he eventually died of complications from pneumonia on July 6, 2003 at the age of ninety-five.

The book The World of Entertainment (1975) by Hugh Fordin, created with the full cooperation of uncredited associate producer Arthur Freed before his death, is said to suggest that Victor Fleming fired the actor when he took over as director. In a later interview (included on the 2005 DVD release of Wizard of Oz), Ebsen recalled that the studio heads initially did not believe he was ill. No footage of Ebsen as the Tin Man has ever been released — only photographs taken during filming and test photos of different makeup styles remain.

Limited Edition Blu-ray

Gale Sondergaard was originally cast as the Wicked Witch. She became unhappy with the role when the witch’s persona shifted from sly and glamorous (thought to emulate the wicked queen in Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs) into the familiar “ugly hag.” She turned down the role and was replaced on October 10, 1938 by Margaret Hamilton. Sondergaard said in an interview for a bonus feature on the DVD that she had no regrets about turning down the part, and would play a glamorous villain in Fox’s version of Maurice Maeterlinck’s The Blue Bird in 1940. Margaret Hamilton plays a remarkably similar role in the Judy Garland film Babes in Arms released that same year. She is a busybody social worker who wants to remove Judy Garland’s character from the custody of her parents, much as Almira Gulch wants to remove Toto from the Gale family.

On July 25, 1938, Bert Lahr was signed and cast as the Cowardly Lion; Charles Grapewin was cast as Uncle Henry on August 12.

Special Edition DVD

Frank Morgan was cast as the Wizard on September 22. Morgan’s casting led to one of the many tales connected with the production of the film. According to Aljean Harmetz, when the wardrobe department was looking for a coat for Frank Morgan, they decided that they wanted a once elegant coat that had “gone to seed”. They went to a second-hand shop and purchased a whole rack of coats, from which Morgan, the head of the wardrobe department, and director Victor Fleming chose one they thought gave off the perfect appearance of shabby gentility. One day, while he was on set wearing the coat, Morgan turned out one of the pockets and discovered a label indicating that the coat had once belonged to Oz author L. Frank Baum. Mary Mayer, a unit publicist for the film, contacted the tailor and Baum’s widow, who both verified that the coat had once belonged to the writer of the original “Wizard of Oz” books. After filming was completed, the coat was presented to Mrs. Baum. Baum biographer Michael Patrick Hearn disbelieves the story, it having been refuted by members of the Baum family, who never saw the coat or knew of the story, as well as by Margaret Hamilton, who considered it a concocted studio rumor.

Make Up Department
  Jack Dawn … creator: character makeups
  Del Armstrong … assistant makeup artist (uncredited)
  Holly Bane … assistant makeup artist (uncredited)
  Don L. Cash … assistant makeup artist (uncredited)
  Jack Dawn … makeup artist: Frank Morgan (uncredited)
  Lyle Dawn … makeup artist: Billie Burke (uncredited)
  Max Factor … wig supervisor (uncredited)
  Fred Frederick … wig designer (uncredited)
  Sydney Guilaroff … braids: Dorothy (uncredited)
  Cecil Holland … makeup department head (uncredited)
  Jack Kevan … assistant makeup artist (uncredited)
  Lou LaCava … assistant makeup artist (uncredited)
  George Lane … assistant makeup artist (uncredited)
  Beth Langston … hair stylist (uncredited)
  Emile LaVigne … makeup artist: Jack Haley (uncredited)
  Betty Masure … body makeup artist (uncredited)
  Norbert Miles … makeup artist: Ray Bolger (uncredited)
  Gustaf Norin … prosthetic technician (uncredited)
  Josef Norin … prosthetic sculptor (uncredited)
  Web Overlander … makeup artist: Judy Garland (uncredited)
  Fred B. Phillips … makeup artist (uncredited)
  Eddie Polo … assistant makeup artist (uncredited)
  Bob Roberts … wig designer (uncredited)
  Robert J. Schiffer … makeup artist (uncredited)
  Charles H. Schram … makeup artist: Bert Lahr (uncredited)
  Howard Smit … assistant makeup artist (uncredited)
  Lee Stanfield … makeup artist: Jack Haley (uncredited)
  William Tuttle … assistant makeup artist (uncredited)
  Edith Wilson … body makeup artist (uncredited)
  Jack H. Young … makeup artist: Margaret Hamilton (uncredited)

On August 25th, which is this coming Tuesday will mark the 70th Anniversary of Victor Fleming’s famous movie, “The Wizard of Oz” based on the children’s novel by, L. Frank Baum.

It is one of the greatest family films ever made, in my opinion, I’ve always loved it.

Kev

Thanks to Adam for sending me the link to this story. I was able to find the ‘photo’ mentioned in this story by searching google. What a classic! If you attend the Marietta GWTW event this November, you will have the opportunity to see and/or meet Mr. Mickey Kuhn.

By Jack Butterworth / For The Item

MARBLEHEAD – The last surviving screen-credited male actor in the legendary 1939 movie “Gone with the Wind” is living in Marblehead — and frankly we should give a damn.

There are only five cast members from GWTW left alive: Olivia DeHavilland (Melanie Hamilton Wilkes), Alicia Rhett (India Wilkes), Ann Rutherford (Careen O’Hara), Cammie King (Bonnie Blue Butler) and Mickey Kuhn, now a retired airline executive who lives with his wife Barbara in Marblehead.

A Hollywood child actor during the 1930s and ’40s, Mike “Mickey” Kuhn played Beau Wilkes, Ashley and Melanie’s son, when he was 7 years old. He has a lot of memories from his 19-year career, interrupted by Navy service in the Korean War.

Kuhn can recall drawing a gun on John Wayne in the opening scenes of “Red River” and taking a real slap from him, and spending a friendly half-hour with GWTW star Vivien Leigh on the set of “A Streetcar Named Desire”, where he had a small part as a sailor — he is the only actor to have worked with Dame Leigh in both of her Academy Award-winning movies.

Some movies never leave us — Kuhn was delighted to see his moment with John Wayne turn up in the opening scene of Wayne’s last film, “The Shootist” — but with a legion of dedicated fans called “Windies,” “Gone with the Wind” still has a life of its own.

Kuhn’s association with the movie was lucky from the beginning. A child actor for five years, he arrived at the producer’s offices with a crowd of hopefuls and was greeted with the words, “Mickey Kuhn! Thank God you’re here!” A secretary ushered him into David O. Selznick’s office. Selznick conducted the interview and got a nod from the director, Victor Fleming. Immediately a secretary told the other applicants, “You can go home, the part’s been cast.”

Kuhn had two important scenes. One involved Bonnie and Rhett Butler. His line was short — “Hello, Uncle Rhett,” but when he looked up at Clark Gable he said, “Hello, Uncle Clark.”

That spoiled the first take but Kuhn, who prided himself on doing what the director needed the first time, flubbed the line two more times. Fleming had already taken him aside to talk about the scene. Worse yet, Kuhn’s mother was on the set and he was sure she was going to kill him when he got home.

At that point Gable took him aside. “You’re right,” Gable said. “My name is Clark. But today, in the movie, my name is Rhett.”

The fourth take was perfect.

Leslie Howard (Ashley Wilkes) got worried because, in Kuhn’s scene with Howard, Beau’s mother Melanie was on her deathbed and he had to cry. “Leslie, don’t worry about it,” Fleming said.

Before the scene “He took me in his arms and painted a picture of sadness,” Kuhn recalled. “He asked, ‘What if your mother died, just after you lost your puppy?”

Kuhn cried on cue on the first take.

Then Fleming took Kuhn aside again and expressed his regrets for upsetting the boy. “’Would it make you feel better if you hit me?” Fleming asked. Kuhn said it would and threw a punch. A photographer snapped a picture just before he swung. Kuhn signs copies of that photo for fans today, including Fleming’s daughter, who cried when he gave it to her.

“Gone with the Wind” is 70 years old now. It has survived despite reservations about the way it portrays African Americans, who spend the first half of the movie as slaves and the second half as servants.

The film tries to offer balance. Oscar-winner Hattie McDaniel’s Mammy is the real mother in the O’Hara household and the one person whose respect Rhett Butler hopes to earn.

“This movie is about the Civil War and Reconstruction,” Kuhn said. “It may not be right by today’s standards but there’s nothing we can do about that. It’s a movie, and a great one.”

Title: The Wizard of Oz
Year: 1939
Director: Victor Fleming
Writers: Noel Langley, Florence Ryerson & Edgar Allan Woolf, based on the novel by L. Frank Baum
Starring: Judy Garland, Frank Morgan, Ray Bolger, Bert Lahr, Jack Haley, Margaret Hamilton
Music: Harold Arlen & E.Y. Harburg (songs); Herbert Stothart (score)
Distinctions: Oscars for Best Score and Best Song (“Over the Rainbow”); currently #125 on IMDb’s Top 250
Length: 101 minutes
Synopsis: a fight to the death over a sparkly pair of heels
How I saw it: many times on video and TV, most recently (rented from Netflix) yesterday
Subjective Rating: 8/10
Objective Rating: 9/10 (1 point off for cinematography)

I don’t really care for the songs (I do not like showtunes), but I have to admit they’re good.  I find it strangely difficult to judge what I think of the movie. It’s just so familiar, it’s like deciding what I think of blue as the color of the sky.  Is there anybody out there who somehow managed to see it for the first time as an adult?

This list combines a number of accepted cinema classics with quite a few films of the 30s and 40s I feel are under-appreciated: this was, it is generally admitted, the great age of American cinema, but people turn away from films photographed in black and white, and miss the work of some of the best writers, directors, cinematographers and actors who have ever worked in the movies. All decades are represented here, but no comix, action or epics. The mix is as odd as anyone else’s selection but for me these are the most entertaining as well as the best of films.

1977 Annie Hall. Woody Allen got a lot of help from Diane Keaton both as actor and scriptwriter in this bittersweet story which could be based on the couple’s earlier relationship. Both very funny and very humane, it represents a balance between the earlier frenzied comedy routines and the later exploitation of neuroses as a source of humor.

1940 His Girl Friday. Howard Hawks and Cary Grant made what is probably their finest film. It’s a dark comedy about the unscrupulous use of power, and at the same time an uproarious battle of the sexes. Rosalind Russell and Grant do everything except wear boxing gloves. You have to concentrate to get it all: very fast, very furious, very funny.

1938 Bringing Up Baby. Howard Hawks showed Cary Grant to be one of the greatest of comedians and got a lively, hilarious performance from Kate (he told her not to act). Baby is a leopard from Brazil, Grant is a paleontologist, Asta steals the crucial bone, there’s a second, savage, leopard, everyone ends up in jail. Nope, it’s indescribable. One of the best comedies ever made.

1932 Trouble in Paradise. Ernst Lubitsch bought his light touch to this most romantic of comedies. Wonderful screenwriting and almost perfect lighting and composition created real magic here. It was never done as well again.

1937 The Awful Truth. Leo McCarey survived the Marx Brothers in 1933’s Duck Soup and came up with this, one of the half dozen best romantic comedies ever made. Cary Grant shows his perfect timing and Irene Dunne is a perfect foil. And that’s Asta from the Thin Man here as well. Superb.

1934 The Thin Man. W S Van Dyck, ‘one take Woody’, raced through this thrilling detective story while William Powell and Myrna Loy came up with non stop one liner witticisms and one of the best beloved of screen romances. Tough but tender. The 1936 sequel, After the Thin Man, is that rare thing, as good as the original. 1939’s Another Thin Man was not far behind.

1934 Dinner at Eight. George Cukor directed an all star cast in this hilarious satire of the rich and pretentious, and of the harsh realities they sometimes had to face: Jean Harlow stole the show, quite a feat considering the other performances. One of the most famous and funny final scenes in cinema.

1936 Libeled Lady. Jack Conway directed Jean Harlow, this time she’s one of two couples: the others being Spencer Tracy, William Powell and Myrna Loy. That sentence is deliberately confusing, a reference to one of the most absurd and bewildering of plots. Powell does magnificent slapstick, the girls come up with takeover ploys a Wall Street shark could learn from and did I say it’s one of the funniest of films?

1933 Bombshell. Victor Fleming and Jean Harlow tell it like it is in this frenzied exposé of tinseltown tawdriness. If you think film stars have it easy you’ll feel sorry for this one by the end. Jean Harlow and Lee Tracy act at a furious pace. It’s not only a true picture, but funny as well.

1934 Twentieth Century. Howard Hawks reputedly got Carole Lombard ‘not to act’, launched her career as one of the funniest and most frantic of screen comedians and started the screwball comedy genre. John Barrymore was still one of the finest actors of his generation. This is over the top humor, but done with lots and lots of style.

1936 My Man Godfrey. Gregory La Cava, surely an under rated director, does marvelous things with this material. William Powell is sublime; he was sublime throughout the decade. Witty, debonaire, good hearted, was he a great actor or not acting at all? Carole Lombard hit her peak. Lovestruck? This is lovestruck and it’s just wonderful.

1941 Citizen Kane. Orson Welles has lost some of his clout. The ground breaking techniques used in the film are now seen to have all been used before, and it’s questioned whether Welles’ decline was entirely due to the studio system he’d bucked. Yet this is still one of the greatest of films, made so perfectly it’s like a Silver Cloud where all you hear at full speed is the dashboard clock. And it’s also about the abuse of power.

1973 American Graffiti. George Lucas relived his past and asked everyone ‘where were you in ‘62?’ A very convincing recreation of a time of life when cars and rock and roll mattered more than anything. Younger generations can see just how far they have progressed. Launched a lot of stars’ careers and bankrolled the Star Wars saga.

1947 Life With Father. Michael Curtiz, William Powell and Irene Dunne made a heart warming version of a favorite play and book. In this family of eccentrics you see beneath the surface of crusty patriarch and flighty matriarch to the affection and respect that binds them all together.

1972 Play It Again Sam. Herbert Ross directed Woody Allen in one of Allen’s best scripted films. An homage to Casablanca (the title refers to the way Allen comes to relive the plot of that film). Allen’s character and Bogart’s are contrasted to hilarious effect. A celebration of surrogate living.

1950 Born Yesterday. George Cukor showed Judy Holliday to be one of the greatest of actors (she was acting, really), America made fun of its Bronxness, William Holden was poised to become a major star. Dated plot, wonderful performances.

1941 The Lady Eve. Preston Sturges at this stage of his life could do no wrong. He promised Barbara Stanwyck her greatest role: he delivered. Sturges furiously ridicules everything self interested and inane in human nature, adds a love story, then shows how hard we work to make simple things difficult. Henry Fonda does slapstick, Stanwyck discusses the size of her nose. As W C Fields said, never give a sucker an even break.

1937 Stage Door. Gregory La Cava directs Ginger Rogers and Kate Hepburn and others in this multi plotted tale of aspiring actresses’ struggles. Poignant, funny and accurate, it has some of the fastest wit of the period, most of it from Ginger. Kate does the Calla lilies.

1964 Night of the Iguana. John Huston’s turn to do a Tennessee Williams’ play and he and Richard Burton make it the best cinema treatment by far, good as some of the others are. Burton finds that when you’ve lost everything you had, position, reputation, ambitions and illusions, you still have something left. Great acting, powerful message.

1950 Sunset Boulevard. Billy Wilder’ s greatest film, this sardonic, bitter jibe at pretension and unscrupulous ambition showed William Holden still poised to become a major star, but dwarfed by courageous performances from Erich Von Stroheim and Gloria Swanson. In a mad world only the mad are sane. Larger than life and twice as true.

1972 Slaughterhouse Five. George Roy Hill turned Kurt Vonnegut’s fable about Billy Pilgrim, a man unstuck in time, perhaps from the shock of the WWII fire bombing of Dresden, into a heroic fantasy. It’s very beautiful but under the surface is a vicious jab at the moral complacency that allows atrocities to happen.

1992 Husbands and Wives. Woody Allen lived out his own psychodrama in this study of disintegrating marriages. Honest and courageous acting by all make it compulsive viewing, insightful and wise writing give it hope.

1958 Separate Tables. Delbert Mann had a stellar cast here: all give great performances, but Deborah Kerr, Wendy Hillier and David Niven manage to outshine Burt Lancaster and Rita Hayworth. Terence Rattigan’s plays tell the story of the fear that drives us apart from one another and what we can do about it and is very insightful indeed.

1966 Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf. Mike Nichols let Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor have their head in this scabrous look inside a relationship where love, resentment, contempt, grief, regret, despair and rage all simmer under the surface and come out at a faculty dinner party. Painful, brilliant acting.

2005 Nina Simone at Montreux 1976. Nina at her peak giving a revealing look at her personal life, and playing some of the best piano she recorded. Some of these performances are literally unforgettable.

2006 Van Morrison at Montreux 1974/80. Two concerts, one solo, one with a backing group. If you know the man, when he’s good he’s the best. Beautiful arrangements as always and a trip away from his album work. A rarity and well worth a visit.

1975 Nashville. Robert Altman directed this devastating in-depth look at America that featured 24 lead actors and over a dozen plot lines and flawlessly drew it all together to a shattering climax. Politicians are skewered, the nasty side of the music industry is shown, unfulfilled characters project their fantasies on the stars.

1993 Short Cuts. Robert Altman was back with a collage of Raymond Carver stories. It’s a portrait of a place and time that tells us something about human nature. Altman’s control of the multi plot is impressive, as is the acting.

1975 Dog Day Afternoon. Sidney Lumet gave a devastating glimpse at America in this astounding true story about a holed up bank robber who becomes a media star on the scene of his crime. Al Pacino has rarely acted as well. A thrilling heist story that tells you a lot about human nature.

1940 Too Many Husbands. Jean Arthur ends up with two husbands, Fred MacMurray and Melvyn Douglas, in this satire directed by Wesley Ruggles based on a Somerset Maugham story. When the men start competing for her affection she realises it’s not a bad situation after all. Features three great actors at the top of their game.

1943 Heaven Can Wait. Ernst Lubitsch took Don Ameche to Hell where he recounts a lifetime of debauchery that deserves punishment. But like Edith Piaf, he regrets nothing. We see his life unroll before our eyes and what he’s had is a devoted marriage to Gene Tierney and an enormous heartfelt love of life. Case dismissed. The film has the famous Touch.

1935 The Devil is a Woman. This is one of the best partnerships of Josef von Sternberg and Marlene Dietrich, over the top but full of style, style, style. Beautiful to look at and profound in its way.

1930 Morocco. Another of the best von Sternberg and Dietrich partnerships, this one adds Gary Cooper and Adolph Menjou to the heady mix. A romance made by one who was a great director and possibly cinema’s greatest cameraman as well.

1932 Shanghai Express. This delirious romance is probably Dietrich’s greatest role, playing a woman betrayed by love who plies her trade on an express fleeing revolution in China who finds she has another chance. Von Sternberg’s camera makes it believable.

1981 My Dinner With Andre. Louis Malle made an impossible film, a two hour conversation between Wallace Shawn and Andre Gregory. The actors make it strangely watchable, what they talk about makes it fascinating for those interested in self exploration.

1994 Vanya on 42nd Street. Louis Malle filmed Andre Gregory directing Anton Checkov’s Uncle Vanya. What Malle unobtrusively allows you to see is the process, both of acting and of filmmaking, and the affirmation that this continuity of creative endeavor represents.

1981 Atlantic City. Louis Malle’s film about a city and a man in decline is inspiring for all its sadness. Burt Lancaster has rarely been better as a small time hood living dreams of imaginary past grandeur who turns to another illusion, that of love. Susan Sarandon is the girl who betrays him and gives him the wisdom to live in the real world.

1938 You Can’t Take It With You. Frank Capra made a hit out of this successful stage play and you can see why when you look at the cast list. Jean Arthur and Lionel Barrymore represent one way of life, and James Stewart and Edward Arnold quite another and the collision is both funny and heartwarming.

1939 Mr Smith Goes to Washington. Frank Capra was in full force with this tale of simple integrity versus unscrupulous duplicity. James Stewart is the hick from the sticks with more tricks than they think, Jean Arthur is the first to appreciate him. Lasted well because we still don’t trust politicians.

1936 Mr Deeds Goes to Town. Gary Cooper gets rich and finds it quite a nuisance, Jean Arthur is the journalist who exploits him and then…The value of money and the ethics of suicide are considered, love finds a way. Familiar stuff but my they do it well.

1941 Sullivan’s Travels. Preston Sturges was so big at this time he might have been tempted to make a ‘great’ film. Something about the meaning of life. Joel McCrea goes on a quest, meets Veronica Lake, ends up in jail, inspires a chase scene the Keystone Kops could have been proud of and learns to make people laugh. Inspiring: and funny.

1942 The Palm Beach Story. Claudette Colbert and Joel McCrea work out issues of trust in their marriage in this sparkling Preston Sturges comedy with a moral. The stars couldn’t be better, Sturges was still one of America’s greatest writer/directors.

1942 Roxie Hart. William Wellman’s frantic comedy stars Ginger Rogers in one of her best roles and examines if there’s any truth in the adage ‘there’s no such thing as bad publicity’. The pace is pretty frenzied: so are the laughs.

1954 On the Waterfront. Marlon Brando and Rod Steiger both work for Lee J Cobb but one breaks free with tragic and then heroic results. It’s a stage work but very, very powerful, and the acting is impressive indeed.

1951 A Streetcar Named Desire. Elia Kazan took Tennessee Williams’ tragic tale of the disintegration of a sensitive and lonely Southern belle and drew a tumultuous red herring across it with an explosive performance from Marlon Brando. It’s a tribute to Vivian Leigh’s acting ability that the film survives still as the story of Blanche.

1933 Bitter Tea of General Yen. Frank Capra before Capraesqueness prevailed. Powerfully acted by Barbara Stanwyck, some consider it Capra’s best film. In its depiction of the ambiguities of sexual attraction it’s miles ahead of most films.

1992 Unforgiven. This is Clint Eastwood’s film as both star and director, but the support from Gene Hackman, Morgan Freeman and Richard Harris is outstanding. The script ditches stereotypes of heroes and villains and shows the mix of good and bad we all carry around. It’s also a standoff between two characters not that different, though one’s a lawman and the other an outlaw, as in Michael Mann’s Heat of 1995.

1984 Amadeus. Milos Forman adapted a play about the (imaginary) poisoning of Mozart by Salieri. The sets and costumes are perfect, the pacing is masterly, the music makes it a great film. Shows the perilous and tragic isolation of a genius who can only inspire admiration, envy and incomprehension in others.

1953 The Big Heat. Fritz Lang’s powerful crime melodrama pits Glenn Ford against Lee Marvin with Gloria Grahame somewhere in the middle. The film both defines film noir and transcends it.

1946 The Big Sleep. Howard Hawks reputedly threw away contributions to the script from William Faulkner: in fact the script came a poor second to action and atmosphere, not everything is explained and there seems to be a spare body, but no one cares. Hawks, Bogart and Bacall were never finer. A definitive film noir yet something a whole lot more. It’s a dirty world but roses grow there.

1970 Lovers and Other Strangers. Cy Howard showed a lot of skill balancing the many stories in this well scripted exploration of relationships and the way they develop. Great acting adds depth to a film which is by turns funny, sad and ruefully true to life.

1941 Love Crazy. Jack Conway directs William Powell and Myrna Loy in this breakneck screwball comedy that clocks in at a laugh a minute. The great Powell excelled at witty dialogue and frantic slapstick and here he does both to perfection.

1941 I Love You Again. William Powell and Myrna Loy with Woody Van Dyke at the helm cope with a case of mistaken identity, except the two are really one, Powell with a split personality. It’s nonsense but it’s funny nonsense, light as a feather.

1989 True Love. Nancy Savoca’s film is about Italo-Americans, a girl who wants to get married, a boy who doesn’t realise marriage gets in the way of nights out with the boys. A lot of things have to be ironed out, but it is true love.

1998 Happiness. Tod Solondz offended a lot of people with this harrowing story of dysfunction, which indicates he was pretty close to the mark. Brilliant acting and direction, and unflinching honesty about anguish and despair.

1958 Cat On a Hot Tin Roof. Richard Brooks tried his hand at a Tennessee Williams play. This could be Elizabeth Taylor’s greatest performance. Williams had a lot to say about women’s needs and how they were stifled by society that nobody else voiced. Both explosive melodrama and deeply poignant drama at the same time.

1962 Sweet Bird of Youth. Richard Brooks is criticised for emasculating Tennessee Williams’ play to satisfy conservative audiences’ expectations, but he only does so technically. It’s a gutsy ripping apart of the dream called ambition and the emotion called family love. Paul Newman showed himself one of the best actors of his generation.

1989 sex lies and videotape. Stephen Soderbergh’s subtle film looks at social and sexual relationships and discovers that the way people feel is often different to the way they act and that often they don’t know this.

1950 In a Lonely Place. Nicholas Ray extended Humphrey Bogart’s range in this haunting look at self destructive inner compulsions; Gloria Grahame is the woman who doesn’t quite distrust him. The film points the moral that if you say one thing and do another, the first person you will fool will be yourself.

1986 Children of a Lesser God. Randa Haines evokes magnificent performances from Marlee Matlin and William Hurt in this story of love that overcomes obstacles because it gives the lovers faith in themselves.

1936 Wife vs Secretary. Clarence Brown directed Clark Gable, Myrna Loy and Jean Harlow. Harlow isn’t a hussy, Gable is a loyal husband, Loy is unjustifiably jealous. A forgotten gem. Anita Loos’ script is witty and insightful.

1931 Possessed. Joan Crawford and Clark Gable in an early teaming. Crawford is at her most beautiful, and both stars make the melodrama come to life by their acting ability. It’s what you expect but pretty wonderful nevertheless.

1971 Macbeth. Polanski does Shakespeare and it’s a good combination, bleak, gory and in your face. Very definitely a film and not a stage play, the dialog is cut and extremely realistic. Matches Kurosawa.

1934 The Girl From Missouri. Jack Conway directs Jean Harlow and Franchot Tone in a script by Anita Loos. This is a combination that works. The plot’s a bit dated, but the stars are worth watching.

1932 Red Headed Woman. Jack Conway directed Jean Harlow in the film that made her a star. She plays a woman who uses sex to get ahead: America was not allowed to see this kind of movie once the Hays Office got into gear. It’s scandalous and very funny.

1937 Personal Property. Jean Harlow and Robert Taylor are the height of glamour in this melodrama from Woody Van Dyke. This was one of Harlow’s last films (she was to die later in ‘37 aged 26) and she is seen here in her prime. Movie magic.

1936 Suzy. The plot is ridiculous, Jean Harlow plays a singer (and she couldn’t sing a note), the direction is slow: but what this film has going for it is star power, Harlow and Cary Grant.

1935 Hands Across the Table. Mitchell Leisen’s film stars the great Carole Lombard and Fred MacMurray as two people on the up and up who mistake each other for a security blanket but find out money is not the only value in life.

1967 The Graduate. Mike Nichols and a young Dustin Hoffman show us just what a burden the American Dream could be to the next generation. Anne Bancroft makes a bored wife’s play, Hoffman is good showing just how stalled a young man can get, Simon and Garfunkel provide a great soundtrack. Respectability gets the finger. Great way to lock a church.

1982 Blade Runner. Ridley Scott and his set designers made Philip K Dick’s world real, while superimposing an action packed, menacing, fight based plot. The replicants have our sympathy because they have to die, the humans seem pathetic because they have made an entirely non-natural world, the sets have got into our dreams and nightmares.

1992 Passion Fish. John Sayles digs deep in this character exploration of the relationship between two bitter, scarred women. Mary McDonnell and Alfre Woodard show that real drama happens everyday, to ordinary people.

1938 Carefree. Mark Sandrich worked with Fred and Ginger on several films. This is the best written film the two ever starred in, an attempt to get away from the song based series that launched their career. Really great acting, fine comedy, but can you believe in Fred as a psychologist? You must have a complex.

1936 Swing Time. George Stevens got to direct that other great screen couple of the 30s, Fred and Ginger and made the most of any of their directors from the usual superficial plot. The music’s great, the songs’re great, the dancing’s great: they always were with these two. Take time out from enjoying the almost faultless Fred and appreciate just how good a dancer and comedian Ginger Rogers was.

1996 Beautiful Girls. Ted Demme’s episodic coming of age comedy boasts a galaxy of stars and a superbly written script. If you can do without a plot you’ll find it fascinating.

1995 Amateur. Hal Hartley mixes theatre of the absurd, Greek tragedy and film noir in this strange tale of a man and a woman seeking redemption. A new look at the old problem of alienation.

1991 Trust. Hal Hartley’s best film stars Adrienne Shelly and Martin Donovan as two quirky characters who haven’t a hope – alone. Minimalist, deadpan, dryasdust humour you can choke on, and the famous dialog.

1989 The Unbelievable Truth. Hal Hartley’s first feature creates a bizarre, not-quite-real world where people speak dialog from a Samuel Beckett play, fears and neuroses are shown as real events and drama becomes psychodrama.

1960 Elmer Gantry. Richard Brooks directs Burt Lancaster in an exuberant performance as a persuasive salesman doing poorly until he pitches for god to get the girl he thinks he wants, then an old sin comes to roost and things fall apart. A warning to evangelists everywhere about the dangerous vulnerability and need in people they attempt to use.

1956 Baby Doll. Elia Kazan elicited great performances in another Williams’ film, a comedy of revenge that pits Karl Malden against Eli Wallach. Each man feels threatened by and goes to extreme lengths to damage the other. Malden and Carroll Baker have one of the sexiest seduction scenes in cinema simply by showing Baker’s arousal.

1957 Twelve Angry Men. Sidney Lumet directed this courtroom drama starring Henry Fonda which examines what is involved in judging others. How much needs to be taken into consideration, how much actually is? Superb performances make this great drama, and the little room in which it takes place makes it even more intense.

1995 Strange Days. Kathryn Bigelow’s classic SF action movie shifts effortlessly between an Orwellian warning of the dangers of media addiction, a classic love triangle and heart stopping action. One of the best.

1973 An Evening with Marlene Dietrich. Late Dietrich in a London concert of her standards. This is a magical performance and Dietrich expertly holds the audience under her spell. Ten years later Dietrich asked Maximilian Schell to make a film about her but refused to be filmed. The result, Marlene, is a worthy addition to the legend.

1982 My Favourite Year. Richard Benjamin directed this salute to 1950s TV, a story based on an incident which occurred when Errol Flynn appeared on the Sid Caesar Show. Peter O’Toole is superb as the drunken Swann (“I’m a film star, not an actor!”). It’s very funny and very warm hearted.

1996 Fargo. Joel and Ethan Coen’s bizarre tale of a ransom scam gone wrong is worth viewing for the acting alone. Frances McDormand, William H Macy and Steve Buscemi manage to be hilarious, tragic and slightly skewed all at once.

1974 Thieves Like Us. Robert Altman gets nostalgic about the Great Depression in this story about simple country boys gone wrong. It’s the other side to his great version of The Long Goodbye, set beautifully in its period, a lyrical tragedy.

1943 The More the Merrier. George Stevens directs Jean Arthur and Joel McCrea in this world war 2 romantic comedy. Charles Coburn is a bit too cute as cupid but the leads are a joy to watch.

1942 Casablanca. Michael Curtiz, like the studio, probably thought this was a propaganda piece to help the war effort. For most viewers it’s one of the greatest of love stories. Ingrid Bergman and Humphrey Bogart are perfect together. And the screenplay is like Hamlet: full of quotations.

1937 True Confession. Carole Lombard, Fred MacMurray and John Barrymore expertly play roles that teeter on the brink of melodramatic farce and black comedy in this film directed by Wesley Ruggles. Truth, lies and trust are all investigated.

2001 Ghost World. Terry Zwigoff is incredibly accurate in showing what is wrong with the world inherited by teenagers Thora Birch and Scarlett Johanson. It’s a scathing indictment of conformity, lack of feeling and bad taste. Brilliant.

1947 Out of the Past . Jacques Tourneur had an Elizabethan namesake, Cyril, who would have been proud of this labyrinthine plot of cross and double cross, revenge and deceit. Coming from nowhere Robert Mitchum suddenly personified the noir hero, tough, cynical, capable of losing with as cool an exterior as in winning. Very fatalistic, the film accepts that people betray, that self interest rules, that someone always has to lose.

1997 Chasing Amy. Kevin Smith took his mastery of dialog to this film but little else from his previous work. It’s a romantic comedy that accurately skewers all kinds of relationships and remains totally honest throughout.

1996 Bound. Larry and Andy Wachowski revitalise the 40s caper movie to stunning effect in this perfectly made first feature. The stylish, expertly paced story doesn’t miss a thrill throughout its entire length.

1944 Murder My Sweet. Edward Dmytryk showed viewers an unsuspected side of Dick Powell in this masterful version of Chandler’s Farewell My Lovely. Rich and poor: all are alike because lust, greed and crime are great equalisers. This is a dark world where you need to cling grimly to your values before they’re swept away. The second best film Chandler.

1986 Runaway Train. Andrei Konchalovsky makes this action movie a heart stopper from start to finish. John Voight does a marvelous job and Eric Roberts is not far behind him as two crims on the lam with the law just a jump away.

1941 High Sierra. Raoul Walsh directs Humphrey Bogart in his breakthrough role as an ex-gangster who meets the right girl too late (Ida Lupino in a great performance). Bogart is magnificent in his portrayal of a tough/vulnerable ex-con with a great deal of integrity who sees long before everyone else he’s got a one way ticket to nowhere.

1997 L.A. Confidential. Curtis Hanson does James Ellroy in this character driven cop story about crime and corruption and cover-up. Terrific acting, set design and pacing make it compulsive watching from start to finish.

2000 Memento. Christopher Nolan tells his story backwards as Guy Pearce investigates his wife’s murder while suffering from short term memory loss. The technique creates a puzzle which Pearce’s acting ability holds together.

1941 The Maltese Falcon. John Huston took Hammett’s story and turned it into a cinematic classic. Sydney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre earned their ticket to screen immortality, Humphrey Bogart was one step away from being a legend. It’s a dark story about greed and where it can take you.

1948 Mr Blandings Builds His Dream House. HC Potter directed Cary Grant and Myrna Loy in this bitter comedy about a couple who attempt to realise their dream only to find how frustrating and disillusioning dreams turn out to be in the real world. With these actors its full of funny moments: home renovators will think it a tragedy.

This is my choice: what’s yours?

I’m fascinated by human perception, especially of art, as the human eye takes two separate things and combines them, giving them new special meaning. Sometimes it’s on purpose, a mashup, like adbusting or The Grey Album, but sometimes it’s not, like the accidental synchronicity of combining The Wizard Of Oz with Pink Floyd’s classic The Dark Side Of The Moon.

I love the idea that human beings live somewhere in the meaty subspace between synchronicity and apophenia.

But the question of just what’s going on as you play the Pink Floyd album along with the film and the way things line up eerily has been around since the 90s, with hundreds of examples of odd connections noted by people. At one point, Turner Classic Movies, which owns the broadcast rights to the film, even aired Wizard Of Oz with Dark Side as the alternate soundtrack.

Engineer Alan Parsons mixing the album in great big quadrophonic sound.

“It was an American radio guy who pointed it out to me. It’s such a non-starter, a complete load of eyewash. I tried it for the first time about two years ago. One of my fiancee’s kids had a copy of the video, and I thought I had see what it was all about. I was very disappointed. The only thing I noticed was that the line “balanced on the biggest wave” came up when Dorothy was kind of tightrope walking along a fence. One of the things any audio professional will tell you is that the scope for the drift between the video and the record is enormous; it could be anything up to twenty seconds by the time the record’s finished. And anyway, if you play any record with the sound turned down on the TV, you will find things that work.”

-Alan Parsons, the engineer on Dark Side, about the supposed synchronicity.

No matter the coincidence versus the intent, I like the way our brains work, either looking for or creating connections in things, giving added contextual meaning, trying to make the universe more special to us. Sometimes it goes horribly wrong, but sometimes we do find things, little bits of weird magic to call our own. And let’s face it, this bit of film/music weird is so much more cheery than the urban legend about the munchkin hanging himself in the background of The Wizard Of Oz, right?

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to see the Wizard – the wonderful Wizard – on the dark side of the moon…

As one of the most renowned classics of American film, The Wizard of Oz is a treat. The 1939 movie ushered in a new era of cinema, turning L. Frank Baum’s beloved children’s book into one of Hollywood’s greatest creations. It was developed thanks in large part to the success of Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and helped usher in the modern film fantasy genre that we all know today. As the quintessential film about a journey to a strange land with strange creatures and characters, Oz is a masterpiece.

Amazingly enough, The Wizard of Oz was not considered a commercial success upon its initial release. The years have been kind to the movie, though, and it has become one of the most popular films of all time thanks in large part to countless television airings. Some believe Oz to be among the most-watched films in history.

Judy Garland, 16-years-old at the time of production, stars as schoolgirl Dorothy Gale. She lives in Kansas with her little dog Toto and is growing tired of her surroundings. She constantly wants to move on to greener pastures and to “somewhere over the rainbow.” Dorothy lives with Auntie Em (Clara Blandick), Uncle Henry (Charles Grapewin), and three farm hands. The story picks up with poor Toto in serious trouble with Miss Gulch (Margaret Hamilton) and Dorothy electing to run away with the dog. She is tricked by Professor Marvel (Frank Morgan) into returning home and arrives back at the farm just in time for a tornado.

The twister serves to help knock Dorothy unconscious. When she comes to, she finds herself in a strangely colourful place. The Good Witch of the North (Billie Burke) approaches and we soon discover that Dorothy is most certainly not in Kansas anymore. She’s in a place called Munchkinland and her house, tossed around in the twister, has landed on and killed the Wicked Witch of the East. This makes the munchkins of Munchkinland very happy and they begin to sing.

Before they know it, however, the Wicked Witch of the West (Margaret Hamilton) shows up and wants to avenge the death of her sister. She singles Dorothy out as the culprit and wants to claim the magical ruby slippers that have suddenly appeared on Dorothy’s feet. No dice, of course, and Glinda sends the Witch away. Dorothy is dreadfully confused and merely wants to go home, so Glinda suggests following the Yellow Brick Road to see the Wizard of Oz. Dorothy heads off, meeting the Scarecrow (Ray Bolger), the Tin Man (Jack Haley), and the Cowardly Lion (Bert Lahr) on her way to Oz and, hopefully, home.

Perhaps one of the notable aspects of The Wizard of Oz would be the music. The songs are among the most famous in the world and for good reason. Garland’s rendition of “Over the Rainbow” is a classic, as are the songs sung by the munchkins. The classic tunes from Scarecrow (“If I Only Had a Brain”) and the Cowardly Lion (“If I Were King of the Forest”) offer immeasurable smiles.

And that’s really what makes The Wizard of Oz such a timeless classic. It is a movie about smiling, about accomplishing something, about learning the truth about the man behind the curtain. It is about discovering the power within to accomplish anything and about how courage, brains, and heart were always present with these characters. Even Dorothy, as lost as she felt in Oz at times, was always home.

The movie made Garland into one of MGM’s most bankable stars and granted her an Oscar, too. She is tremendous here, shining like a star in a sea of Technicolor and magic the likes of which most moviegoers had not yet seen. That she has the ability to carry herself as a normal Kansas girl filled with wonder is astounding to witness. Garland’s voice works well with the songs, too.

The Wizard of Oz is the type of film that could fill volumes in terms of technical discussion, character development, themes, and so forth. It’s hard to say anything new or fresh about it, so it’s generally better to stick with the truth. On those days when life seems to be dealing nothing but uneasy, stormy clouds, it’s always a good idea to click your heels together and say “there’s no place like Oz.” And there’s no film like it, either.

9.9/10

Trailer:

This was a lighthearted account of the writing of Gone With The Wind when David Selznick needed an argent rewrite and shut himself in his office with Ben Hecht and Victor Fleming facing a five day deadline before shooting restarted.
It was enjoyable, if sometimes rather overdone, with some nice visual and verbal gags. It was well written, and kept the pace moving well. I liked Kieron Buckeridge as David Selznick- a very truthful performance and a stylish one too. There was one terribly misjudged performance from Claire Corbett as the secretary. Way over the top and frankly silly. It didn’t mesh with the other performances at all. Don’t know whether to blame actress or director but someone was at fault. Anyone who works with the space at the SJT needs to understand that you have to be very careful not to overplay and make sure that you believe every word you say or such an intimate space will find you out.
Good to see a very detailed stylish set which we haven’t always had at the SJT lately. We needed to feel that we were shut in Selznick’s office with the three of them and it was important that it was right.
All in all an entertaining and worthwhile afternoon. Nice to see a decent audience too.

Al referirnos al género musical, aludimos a todas aquellas producciones cinematográficas que incluyen canciones o temas bailables en una parte fundamental de su desarrollo dramático. En su totalidad, las variantes del cine musical tienen una raigambre teatral, como sucede con las operetas alemanas, los musicales de Broadway, las zarzuelas, las óperas e incluso los conciertos de rock, cuya adaptación al cine ha contribuido a popularizar entre el público todas esas fórmulas escenográficas. Por otro lado, en la gran pantalla se han consolidado espectáculos de carácter localista, como el cinéma musette que en Francia desarrolló Maurice Chevalier; el musical rioplatense, centrado en figuras como Carlos Gardel y Libertad Lamarque; y la comedia ranchera mexicana, iniciada por el largometraje Allá en el Rancho Grande (1936), de Fernando de Fuentes.

Obviamente, el cine musical fue uno de los grandes lanzamientos de la industria hollywoodense cuando surgió el cine sonoro. De hecho, en 1928, la Academia de Artes y Ciencias Cinematográficas de Hollywood concedió un galardón especial a la compañía Warner Bros. por su película El cantor de jazz (The Jazz Singer, 1927), de Alan Crosland, primer filme sonoro y primer musical de la historia, que incluía canciones de autores tan famosos en aquel tiempo como Irving Berling y Jimmy Monaco. A este filme siguieron otros del mismo tono, al estilo de La melodía de Broadway (The Broadway Melody, 1929), de Harry Beaumont, ¡Música maestro! (On With the Show, 1929), de Alan Crosland; y El desfile del amor (The Love Parade, 1929), de Ernst Lubitsch. Progresivamente sofisticado, cada vez más eficaz en su puesta en escena, el musical cinematográfico dio lugar a obras tan notables como Rose Marie (1935), de W. S. Van Dyke, que además hizo de sus protagonistas, Jeannette MacDonald y Nelson Eddy, dos estrellas de gran renombre.

A partir de su definitiva tipificación en el seno de la industria, el musical se convirtió en sinónimo de elegancia y fastuosidad escénica. Ejemplos de esa tendencia son La viuda alegre (The Merry Widow, 1934), de Ernst Lubitsch, La alegre divorciada (The Gay Divorcee, 1934) y Sombrero de copa (Top Hat, 1935), ambas de Mark Sandrich. Estas dos últimas cintas consolidaron asimismo a una de las parejas más conocidas del género, Fred Astaire y Ginger Rogers.

Con el paso del tiempo, el público llenó las salas de cine para asistir a la proyección de títulos como La melodía de Broadway 1938 (Broadway Melody of 1938, 1937), de Roy del Ruth, El mago de Oz (The Wizard of Oz, 1939), de Victor Fleming, Cita en San Luis (Meet Me in Saint Louis, 1944), de Vincente Minnelli, El desfile de Pascua (Easter Parade, 1948), de Charles Walters, y Un día en Nueva York (On the Town, 1949), de Stanley Donen. Las distintas compañías, atentas a esa demanda popular, crearon equipos dedicados exclusivamente a la elaboración de musicales. Así, aparte de contar con estrellas como Gene Kelly, Rita Hayworth, Judy Garland y Betty Grable, la industria dio a conocer a creadores dedicados al diseño de este tipo de producciones. Por ejemplo, la unidad que Arthur Freed dirigió en la Metro Goldwyn Mayer, diseñó películas como Cantando bajo la lluvia (Singin’in the Rain, 1952), de Gene Kelly y Stanley Donen, cuyo reparto encabezaron Kelly, Donald O’Connor, Debbie Reynolds y Cyd Charisse; Un americano en París (An American in Paris, 1951), Melodías de Broadway 1955 (The Bad Wagon, 1953), Gigi (1958), y Brigadoon (1954), todas ellas dirigidas por Vincente Minnelli. Al mismo periodo de esplendor corresponden largometrajes como Siete novias para siete hermanos (Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, 1954) de Stanley Donen, Alta sociedad (Hight Society, 1956), de Charles Walters, y El rey y yo (The King and I, 1956), de Walter Lang.

Durante la década de los sesenta, se alternaron producciones influidas por estilos como el pop y el rock, en la línea mostrada por ¡Qué noche la de aquel día! (A Hard Day’s Night, 1964), de Richard Lester, y otras que siguieron la fórmula clásica, como la ambiciosa West Side Story (1961), de Robert Wise y Jerome Robbins, My fair lady (1964), de George Cukor, Sonrisas y lágrimas (The Sound of Music, 1965), de Robert Wise, y Mary Poppins (1964), de Robert Stevenson.

Ya en los años setenta, prosiguieron las adaptaciones de obras ya estrenadas en Broadway o en los teatros londinenses, como Cabaret (1972), de Bob Fosse, El violinista en el tejado (The Fiddler on the Roff, 1971), de Norman Jewison; y El hombre de La Mancha (Man of La Mancha, 1972), de Arthur Hiller. Planteadas como parodia en cierto modo experimental, El fantasma del Paraíso (Phantom of the Paradise, 1974), de Brian de Palma, y The rocky horror picture show (1975), de Jim Sharman, atrajeron a un público juvenil, que luego mostró su fascinación con producciones de gran impacto en la industria discográfica, como Fiebre del sábado noche (Saturday Night Fever, 1977), de John Badham, y Grease (1978), de Randal Kleiser.

No obstante, pese al éxito de esas películas, el musical entró en un periodo de decadencia, limitándose a medios como el dibujo animado, donde surgieron títulos como La sirenita (The Little Mermaid, 1989), de John Musker y Ron Clements. Ni la originalidad de Corazonada (One From the Heart, 1982), de Francis Ford Coppola, ni la intensidad musical de Fama (1980), de Alan Parker, lograron contrarrestar esa tendencia a la baja, que ha convertido el estreno de musicales en un fenómeno cada vez menos habitual. En todo caso, un formato televisivo, el vídeo-clip, ha heredado buena parte de sus atributos, dirigidos esta vez a la promoción de canciones