Deck the Halls December: White Christmas (1954)

MICHAEL SCHLESINGER: Before we get on to the picture at hand, I’d like to offer up a modest proposal. For a long time, there’s been an intense debate over what constitutes a “Christmas movie,” the most obvious example being Die Hard. I think this can easily be resolved by simply adding a new genre: “Christmas-adjacent.” This would apply to movies that take place partly or even wholly around the holidays, but are not specifically about Christmas. Examples would be not only Die Hard but also Meet Me in St. Louis, Holiday Inn, The Man Who Came to Dinner, The Thin Man, The Lion in Winter, Home Alone, Gremlins, and of course the absolutely mystifying It’s a Wonderful Life, which has less to do with Christmas than Donovan’s Reef, which features Dorothy Lamour and a children’s choir singing “Silent Night.”

That would leave the category to genuine Christmas movies like the various adaptations of A Christmas Carol (including, yes, Hammer’s Cash On Demand) and How The Grinch Stole Christmas, as well as Miracle on 34th Street, A Christmas Story, White Christmas, Christmas in Connecticut, Elf, the vastly underrated Arthur Christmas, almost anything featuring ol’ Saint Nick (and yup, Santa Claus Conquers the Martians qualifies—barely), as well as such recent irreverent titles as Bad Santa, Violent Night (literally Die Hard with Santa instead of Bruce Willis and an absolute hoot) and the current Red One. Your mileage may vary, of course, but I’d like to see this become an actual thing. It would certainly prevent a lot of arguments.

RODNEY BOWCOCK: I think that’s an honest and fair proposal, but it did get me to thinking about how we’ve played fast and loose with what qualifies as a Christmas movie around here in Picture Show-land. I’ve never considered The Thin Man to be a Christmas film, but Christmas does certainly play into it. All that said, there is no debate with this week’s title, which is a bona fide perennial Christmas favorite, even among those that don’t particularly care for classic movies. It’s popular and mainstream enough that you’ll never see it unspooling in our coveted screening room at the Picture Show.

MS: Nor would I expect you to show it, especially in May. Sadly, a lot of folks pooh-pooh White Christmas, considering it inferior to Holiday Inn (I disagree; more on this later). As a person of the Hebraic persuasion (and as Mel Brooks once said, “Who persuaded us?”), to me Christmas mainly meant a day off from work, plus half-price candy the next day. Yet this picture has great warmth and humor—and honest sentiment—that always gets me. Not to mention some sensational musical numbers, all penned by the inevitable Irving Berlin (also of the Hebraic persuasion), who merits a possessory credit on the main title. (Indeed, it’s surely no secret by now that many of the classic holiday tunes were penned by Jews; there’s even a fine documentary about it, Dreaming of a Jewish Christmas.)

RB: If you’re like me, for assorted reasons that I shan’t delve into here, this movie had passed me by for years, and it was the proposal of this post that lured me into seeing it for the first time. So briefly, for those of you who don’t know the plot, it centers around two army pals that become successful performers in comedy-musicals and Broadway producers. While checking out new talent, they (through a bit of a ruse) come upon a sister act that they help out of a jam and wind up all together in Pine Tree, Vermont, where they help out the general from their wartime outfit who is now a struggling innkeeper. There’s not much to the plot, but that’s also kind of what we expect from this kind of film. I mean, how else are you going to fit in over a dozen songs?

MS: Especially when the songwriter is essentially the auteur! Production took a while to get going. It was originally planned as a sequel-cum-remake of Holiday Inn, with the intent of reuniting Crosby and Astaire. But Fred didn’t like the script and tapped out. (That may be the only dancing/wrestling pun you’ll ever see.) Since big dance numbers had been planned, and there was no way in hell MGM was going to loan Gene Kelly, they turned to Donald O’Connor, who was languishing in the “Francis, The Talking Mule” series at Universal. But then he came down with the horrible Q-fever, and not wishing to delay shooting even further, they brought in Danny Kaye. It turned out to be a fortuitous move; he added a lot of comedy to the proceedings, both on and off-screen. (In fact, both he and director Michael Curtiz, two of the most notoriously awful people in show biz, were remarkably well-behaved throughout the shoot; they clearly knew they were doing something special and wanted to keep a happy set. Of course, it also helped that Bing was a de facto producer and wasn’t going to tolerate such shenanigans, especially if it held up production.) The female leads went to singer Rosemary Clooney and dancer Vera-Ellen (Oy, those legs!), and Dean Jagger played said innkeeper. But a new problem arose: while Kaye was a decent hoofer, he was certainly no Astaire or O’Connor. As a result, one of his duets with Vera was re-choreographed to let her do most of the heavy lifting, while others had her partnered with ensemble member John Brascia. Somehow it all works out, thanks to Robert Alton, assisted by Bob Fosse and Nick Castle, both uncredited. (Der Bingle and Donald finally did work together two years later on Anything Goes.)

RB: I have a difficult time watching Danny Kaye without being reminded of how unliked he was by his contemporaries; sort of the anti-Jack Benny. He was notorious for being an egotistical boor, jealous of anyone else getting the attention that he felt that he deserved. That said, when he’s good, he’s very good (and he often is). He doesn’t really have a TON to do in this movie, especially compared to the other three but he also doesn’t quite play second fiddle either.

MS: Well, that’s understandable, considering this: One area that is subject to valid criticism is the screenplay, which plot-wise takes an awful lot of leaps of faith. Norman Krasna wrote the original script, but when Kaye joined up, Norman Panama and Melvin Frank came in to beef up the laugh quotient, with uncredited Mel Shavelson and Jack Rose also chipping in. The end result would naturally tend to be shaky. But c’mon, nobody goes to a film like this for the story, just as nobody goes to a Ray Harryhausen movie for the humans. (“Hey, Shirley! Grab your coat! There’s a new Kerwin Matthews picture opening!”) And to compensate, Curtiz made sure to cast expert supporting actors who could make the most of what they were given, including Mary Wickes, Grady Sutton, Sig Ruman, Herb Vigran, Gavin Gordon and Percy Helton, who’d played the drunk Santa Claus in Miracle on 34th Street. (Some enterprising rep house oughta book this double bill as “A Percy Helton Christmas.”) Two future stars are also noticeable: George Chakiris in the ensemble, and Barrie Chase, who was visiting the set and immediately pressed into service by Curtiz, who gave her the immortal line, “Mutual, I’m sure.”And Carl “Alfalfa” Switzer also pops up in a gag photograph.

RB: Anne Whitfield plays the granddaughter of Dean Jagger and Mary Wickes in the film, and was the last surviving cast member for some time until she passed away earlier this year. Her film career was brief, but she started acting on radio at the age of 7 (in One Man’s Family) and besides this movie, is probably best known today for her regular role on The Phil Harris-Alice Faye Show. Eventually, she moved to Washington, became a political activist and ran a bed and breakfast. Because of her fairly close proximity, she was a regular at the REPS (Radio Enthusiasts of Puget Sound) conventions for years, and while I never have made it out to one of those, I’m sure that she was a lovely person. Generally, people who go to those sorts of things are.

MS: Wow, I did not know all that. Cool.

For many, one of the film’s highlights was improvised. Clooney and Vera-Ellen had already performed the song “Sisters,” wearing blue feathered outfits with matching fans. Kaye suggested he and Bing reprise the song, waving the fans and lip-synching to the ladies. They did so, and Kaye’s ad-libbed schtick broke up the Ol’ Groaner more than once; Curtiz wisely left it in the picture.

Which leads me to the reason I prefer this to Holiday Inn: in the earlier film, Crosby and Astaire are, quite frankly, assholes. There’s little to like about their characters, especially the way they fight over dames. No such problem here; whatever the consequences of their actions, Bing and Danny remain lovable throughout. Feel free to disagree.

RB: I haven’t seen Holiday Inn either. Let’s just say that there are a LOT of big classics that I haven’t seen, but I have seen all of the Blondie and Jungle Jim movies, so I’ve got that going for me.

MS: It’s an achievement of sorts.

White Christmas went into the history books as the first film released in VistaVision, Paramount’s non-anamorphic widescreen process in which 35mm film ran sideways through the camera; the larger frame yielded images of remarkable clarity. (If you’ve been fortunate enough to see the new 70mm print of The Searchers, you’ll understand.) Interestingly, The Ten Commandments went into production first, but that mammoth epic was going to be a long time in production, and the studio wasn’t going to sit on this for what turned out to be two years. It paid off big-time, becoming the biggest grosser of 1954, the biggest grosser of almost everyone’s career—and Bing, Danny and Irving all had a piece of the box office—and remains a holiday perennial; it was even retconned into a stage version in 2004. And not only was it just released in 4K, but Fathom Events will be returning it to theatres later this month to celebrate its 70th anniversary. If you’ve never seen it, that’ll be the best way to lose your Bing cherry. (Okay, I apologize for that one.)

RB: It’s playing at a few theaters here in Cincinnati within the next couple of weeks, and it DOES seem fun to see a movie with so many local connections here, especially since at least one of the locations is a neighborhood theater where it would’ve played second run. Vera-Ellen and Herb Vigran are both from here, and Rosemary Clooney is still the most famous export out of Augusta KY (and that includes my grandmother) which is just about an hour or so down the road. The local connections caused a bit of a stir when the Cincinnati Enquirer film reviewer dared to give the film a lowly grade of B, prompting a couple of letters to the editor about what a nice, wholesome film this is written by those who claimed to be friends of Clooney and Vera. Vigran’s fanbase was absent during this kerfluffle.

MS: Some fans! Anyhoo, I’m generally not much of a crier at movies, but when they all sing the title song at the end, I can’t help but tear up a little. Sure, maybe it’s a bit corny, especially the subplot involving Jagger (playing what must be the nicest general in movie history), but if you can’t be corny at Christmas, then when? A movie with five stars deserves the same.

RB: I’m with you. Sure it’s corny. Sure it doesn’t make a lot of sense, and none of that matters at all, especially at Christmas-time. While I did not shed a tear (surprisingly. It doesn’t take much), it’s a bright, big budget musical that is everything that you’ve been led to believe it was. This was a constant presence on TV throughout the sixties and seventies during the holiday season, and is still popular enough that it’s streaming on Prime right now for good reason. Five stars all the way.