Shattered Politics #10: A Man Called Peter (dir by Henry Koster)

Posted on January 18, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Occasionally, I’ll see a film like Crime of Passion or Bigger Than Life and I’ll say, “Wow, that’s really subversive for a movie that came out in the 1950s!”

And it’s true. We tend to think of the 1950s as being a time when conformity ruled all. It was a time of innocence and chastity, when cinema heroes all wanted to have a house in the suburbs and loving couples slept in separate beds and nobody ever questioned anything. Of course, the truth of the matter is that there were a lot of films released in the 50s that challenge that perception.

And then again, there were also films like 1955’s A Man Called Peter.

A Man Called Peter is a biopic about Peter Marshall (played by Richard Todd), a Scottish immigrant who came to the United States, became a Presbyterian minister, and then eventually became the Chaplain of the United States Senate. (That means that he would open each session of the Senate with a prayer and occasionally provide spiritual counsel to the senators.) I recently watched it on Netflix, specifically because I thought it might be appropriate for this series of political reviews.

And it is, but just barely.

It actually takes the film a while to get to the part where Peter Marshall becomes the Senate Chaplain. First, we watch him as a boy in Scotland, trying to stow away on a boat heading for America. Then, several years later, he’s out walking on a foggy night. He trips over a tree root and, as he lies on the ground, he announces that God has told him to 1) pursue a career as a minister and 2) to do so in America. (I have to admit that I was raised Catholic so I have no idea whether he was having a typical Presbyterian spiritual experience or not. But the film certainly takes it seriously.)

Peter ends up in America where he ministers to a church in Atlanta, marries Catherine (Jean Peters), and then eventually ends up at a church in Washington, D.C. When he eventually is asked to serve as Chaplain of the Senate, both he and the film go out of their way to avoid taking any definite position on any issue. Instead, Peter gives prayers that encourage the senators to put partisan bickering aside and work together to make the United States the best country in the world.

Having now watched all 120 minutes of A Man Called Peter, I can safely that this is a film that epitomizes everything that we always assume to be true about the 1950s. From the film’s view of marriage to religion to politics, A Man Called Peter is perhaps one of the most stereotypically 1950s movies ever made. This is such a 1950s movie that it’s even filmed in CinemaScope!

(And speaking of CinemaScope, A Man Called Peter looks great but it’s perhaps one of the least intimate biopics that I’ve ever seen. You can see every inch of the surrounding landscape but the human beings get lost.)

For me, the film’s most 1955 moment comes when Catherine first discovers that her husband has been reassigned to Washington, D.C. She and Peter are on their honeymoon when they get a telegram telling them that their new home in Washington is ready. Catherine is shocked. Peter says that he didn’t want to interrupt their honeymoon by telling her that they’re not going home to Atlanta. Instead, they’re going to an entirely new city and an entirely new life. (In other words, Peter has decided to say goodbye to Catherine’s family and friends.)

“Aren’t you pleased?” Peter asks her.

Cheerfully, Catherine replies, “Well, who wouldn’t be?”

Ah, the 50s.

Shattered Politics #9: State of the Union (dir by Frank Capra)

Posted on January 18, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

“Politicians have remained professionals only because the voters have remained amateurs!” — State of the Union (1948)

Does anyone remember the Americans Elect fiasco of 2012?

Americans Elect was an organization set up by a bunch of businesspeople, attorneys, and out-of-office politicians. Their stated goal was to challenge the political establishment, shake up the two-party system, and elect a president. The idea was that the party would hold a nationwide primary. Any registered U.S. voter could go online and cast their vote on what they thought should be in the party’s platform and who they thought should be the Americans Elect presidential candidate. Whoever won this nationwide primary would be required to 1) run on the platform and 2) pick a vice presidential candidate from the opposite party.

And all would be right with the world, right?

Right.

Anyway, I did register as an American Elect delegate, just because I was curious to see who was getting votes in the nationwide primary and who wasn’t. (And yes, I did cast a vote. I voted for Dallas County Commissioner Elba Garcia.) Looking over the site, I saw that all of the usual suspects were getting votes — Ron Paul, Hillary Clinton, Michael Bloomberg, Donald Trump, and even Barack Obama. None of the big vote getters were exactly nonpartisan or independent figures. With the possible exception of Ron Paul, all of them were members of the very establishment that Americans Elect was claiming to challenge.

Anyway, Americans Elect ended up nominating no one for President and, as we all know, the 2012 election came down to choosing between two candidates who both received money from the same millionaires and, in the end, the status quo was upheld.

To be honest, everyone should have realized that Americans Elect was a sham as soon as the New York Times printed a column praising the effort. Any truly independent political organization would never be praised by the New York Times. Instead, like most so-called independent political organizations, Americans Elect was just a case of certain members of the establishment slumming.

So, the lesson of American Elect would seem to be that any attempt to run outside of the mainstream will, in the end, simply lead you back to the mainstream. That was an expensive lesson for all of the volunteers who devoted their time to getting Americans Elect on the ballot in 28 states. It was a lesson that they could have learned much more easily by watching the 1948 film, State of the Union.

In State of the Union, newspaper publisher Kay Thorndyke (Angela Lansbury) wants to make her lover, Grant Matthews (Spencer Tracy), President of the United States. Grant is a no-nonsense, plain-spoken businessman who is quick to explain that he loves and cares about his country but that he hates partisan politics. (In many ways, it’s impossible not to compare Grant to … well, to just about every single wealthy businessman who has ever run for public office while claiming to essentially be nonpolitical. The big difference is that Grant actually means it.) However, by subtly appealing to both his ego and his patriotism, Kay convinces Grant to run. With the help of sleazy Jim Conover (Adolphe Menjou) and the sardonic Spike McManus (Van Johnson), Kay uses her money and her newspapers to turn Grant into a viable candidate.

The only problem is that Grant is separated from his wife Mary (Katharine Hepburn) and, since this movie was made in the 1940s, everyone knows that Grant has to be seen as being a family man if he’s going to be elected. For the election, Mary and Grant pretend to be happily married.

As the primary season continues, Grant finds himself being more and more manipulated by Kay and Jim. Eventually, Grant is forced to make a decision between his campaign and his integrity…

Following Mr. Smith Goes To Washington and Meet John Doe, State of the Union was the third part of director Frank Capra’s political trilogy. Based on a play (which, itself, was supposedly inspired by the 1940 Republican presidential candidate, Wendell Willkie), State of the Union never quite escapes its stage-bound origins. Add to that, the film was probably a bit more shocking when it was first released in 1948. In 2015, we’re used to idea of politicians being controlled by money. But, in 1948, audiences were perhaps a little bit more innocent.

But, that said, State of the Union is still an entertaining film. Needless to say, Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn have a wonderful chemistry together and Hepburn gets a great drunk scene. (Hepburn had such an aristocratic presence that it’s always fun to watch her do comedy.) Angela Lansbury also does well, playing a character who could very well grow up to be the role she played in The Manchurian Candidate.

67 years after it was first released, State of the Union remains an entertaining film that makes some good and still relevant points. In 2016, when you’re tempted to get involved with the latest version of Americans Elect, watch State of the Union instead.

Shattered Politics #8: Magnificent Doll (dir by Frank Borzage)

Posted on January 18, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

I’ve always been tempted to write one of those quizzes that you always see on Facebook, “Which American first lady should you be?” That’s a question that I’ve often asked myself. I know that I would not want to be any of our most recent first ladies. (Sorry, Michelle. Sorry, Laura. Sorry, Hillary.) Occasionally, I think that I would have liked to have been Jacqueline Kennedy, if not for what happened in Dallas. Teddy Roosevelt’s daughter, Alice, is definitely a historical role model for me but it’s debatable whether she could truly be considered a first lady. And, of course, there’s always Grover Cleveland’s wife Julia but ultimately, for me, there’s really only one choice.

If I could be any American first lady, I would be Dolley Madison.

Dolley, of course, was the wife of James Madison, who was not only our fourth President but also one of the smartest. Madison was a skilled writer and scholar but he had absolutely no social skills. Dolley, on the other hand, was vivacious and was, by the standards of the dentistry-free days of the 19th Century, one of the most beautiful women in America. Whereas James was uncomfortable meeting with people and struggled to express himself, Dolley was the world’s greatest hostess, bringing opposing forces together through the sheer force of her own charm and ability to throw a great party. When the British invaded Washington D.C. during the War of 1812, Dolley was the one who saved the famous portrait of George Washington from being burned with the rest of the White House.

So, yes, I would definitely be Dolley Madison.

(Yes, I know that there’s some debate over whether her name should be spelled Dolly, Dolley, or Dollie. I spell it Dolley and since I would have been her, I think my opinion counts for something.)

It’s a shame that there haven’t been many movies made about Dolley Madison. Perhaps the best known is 1946’s Magnificent Doll, which is not a very good movie but which is amusing if you know something about history.

Magnificent Doll opens with young Dolley Payne (Ginger Rogers) being forced to marry John Todd (Horace McNally), a much older lawyer. (John saved the life of Dolley’s father and, in gratitude, Dolley’s father gave him his daughter.) Though John falls in love with her, Dolley refuses to show him any sign of affection and good for her! (Seriously, arranged marriages suck.) But then John dies of yellow fever and Dolley declares that she did love him all along.

But life goes on!

Soon, Dolley and her mother are running a boarding house in Philadelphia. Fortunately, they happen to be running it at the same time that the Continental Congress is attempting to write the Constitution. Several of the delegates are staying at the boarding house and two of them take a romantic interest in Dolley.

First there’s Aaron Burr (David Niven), a charming scoundrel who appeals to Dolley’s wild side. Aaron does things like take her to a bar and kiss her underneath a staircase. Aaron is vain. Aaron is self-absorbed. Aaron is an ambitious and charismatic brooder whose moods can be unpredictable. Aaron is exiting! Aaron is dangerous! Aaron is a rebel!

And then you’ve got Aaron’s friend, James Madison (Burgess Meredith). James is shy and gentle. He’d rather read a book than go out. He’s the type of smart kid who all the other kids make fun of but he’s also a good, decent man who has a great future ahead of him. He just needs someone to bring him out of his shell.

In short, Aaron is the type of boy that you hope invites you to prom. James is the type of boy that you marry.

And, when Dolley does marry James, it sends Aaron Burr into such a tail spin that he nearly prevents Thomas Jefferson from becoming President in 1800…

And, needless to say, this film is in no way historically accurate. It is true that Aaron Burr was nearly elected President in 1800 and, had he been, Thomas Jefferson would never have been President. However, most historians seem to agree that has more to do with Aaron Burr being ambitious and nothing to do with Dolley Madison. In the end, Magnificent Doll may be amusing in its inaccuracies but bad history is still bad history.

That said, there’s still a part of me that enjoyed Magnificent Doll, despite the fact that it moves way too slowly and none of the actors (with the exception of David Niven) appear to be all that invested in their roles. I think, ultimately, the reason I enjoyed Magnificent Doll was because it really is basically just a YA version of American history and, as a result, it does have some curiosity value. One gets the feeling that if Magnificent Doll were released today, it would be split into two different films and that it would be promoted on social media with hashtags reading #TeamAaron and #TeamJames.

That said, if there’s any first lady who deserves a biopic (one that’s good as opposed to so-bad-its-interesting) it’s Dolley Madison. (Personally, I would cast Amy Adams in the role.) #TeamDolley all the way!

Shattered Politics #7: Meet John Doe (dir by Frank Capra)

Posted on January 18, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

I cannot stand the phrase “pay it forward.”

The idea is that somebody does something nice for you and then they say, “Pay it forward” and suddenly, you are magically required to go out and do something nice for someone else. For one thing, I hate the obligation of it all. I have this fear that as soon as I finally get finished paying it forward, some stranger is going to hand me a Coke and say, “Pay it forward,” and suddenly I’ll have to do it all over again! And really, honestly, I shouldn’t have to pay it forward just because someone gives me a Coke. If you’re going to tell me to pay it forward, at least give me a car or a Victoria’s Secret gift card or something.

Ultimately, “pay it forward” is something that people say to make themselves feel good but it’s actually a pretty shallow concept.

The same thing can be said about John Doeism, the philosophy that rests at the center of the 1941 film Meet John Doe, our latest entry in Shattered Politics. John Doeism is a grassroots political movement that is based around the slogan, “Be a Better Neighbor.” Much like “Pay it forward,” “Be a better neighbor” sounds good and it’s easy to say but its main appeal is that it doesn’t require that much thought. If anything, it sounds like the first step on the road to serfdom…

That said, I still like the film.

Meet John Doe opens with lay-offs at a major metropolitan newspaper. (These lay-offs are signified by a handsome young man who points at people and then runs his finger across his throat.) Among those laid off is columnist Ann Mitchell (Barbara Stanwyck). However, before Ann is officially let go, she is told to write one final column. Understandably angry over her treatment, Ann responds by making something up. She writes and prints a fake letter from a man calling himself “John Doe.” John Doe explains that he’s unemployed and that he will be committing suicide on Christmas Eve.

Well, quicker than you can say twitter death hoax, everyone in the entire country reads John Doe’s letter and demands to know who he is. The newspaper’s editor, Henry Connell (James Gleason), rehires Ann and puts her in charge of finding the real John Doe.

When numerous unemployed and homeless men start to show up at the newspaper, claiming to be the real John Doe, little do they realize that they are, in fact, auditioning. Ann finally decides that Joe Willoughby (Gary Cooper) has what it takes to be the public face of John Doe. Not only does he have a compelling personal story (he’s a former baseball player whose career was ended by an arm injury) but he looks and sounds like Gary Cooper.

(And, as I typed that last sentence, it suddenly occurred to me that Meet John Doe managed to predict American Idol…)

Joe is soon a celebrity, reading speeches that have been written for him by Ann and encouraging people across the nation to be a better neighbor. And Ann is falling in love with Joe. However, Joe is not comfortable with his new role. For one thing, he doesn’t like being a hero for telling a lie. Secondly, he knows that rival newsmen are eager to expose him as being a fraud. And finally, there’s a sinister publisher named D.B. Norton (played by Edward Arnold, who previously played corrupt Boss Taylor in Mr. Smith Goes To Washington) who is eager to be President of the United States. He wants to turn John Doeism into a fascist political movement and, unless Joe endorses him, he’ll reveal that Joe’s a fraud…

Meet John Doe was Frank Capra’s follow-up to Mr. Smith Goes To Washington. It features many of the same themes as Mr. Smith, with the main difference being that Meet John Doe is a lot more preachy. Whereas Mr. Smith saved its big speech for the end, Meet John Doe has several big speeches spread throughout its running time. (There’s also a scene where a guy named Bert tells the story of how he was inspired by John Doe and, I swear, it literally goes on forever.)

So, no, Meet John Doe is definitely no Mr. Smith Goes Go To Washington but I still liked it, mostly because of the chemistry between Gary Cooper and Barbara Stanwyck. I wanted to be Barbara Stanwyck’s character. Seriously, watching a film like Meet John Doe, leaves me convinced that I was born several decades too late. If I had been born in 1918, I could have been a quick-witted, cynical, and secretly romantic intrepid girl reporter at a major metropolitan newspaper.

Even better, I would never have to worry about ever being told to “pay it forward.”

Shattered Politics #6: The Great McGinty (dir by Preston Sturges)

Posted on January 17, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

“This is the story of two men who met in a banana republic. One of them never did anything dishonest in his life except for one crazy minute. The other never did anything honest in his life except for one crazy minute. They both had to get out of the country.”

— The Great McGinty (1940)

For today’s final entry in Shattered Politics, we take a look at how elections are won north of the Mason-Dixon Line.

The Great McGinty begins in a bar located in an unnamed country in South America. Tommy Thompson (Louis John Heydt) attempts to shoot himself but is stopped by philosophical bartender Dan McGinty (Brian Donlevy). Tommy explains that he can never return to the United States because, in one moment of weakness, he stole some money. McGinty replies that he can never return to the U.S. either. Why? “I was the Governor of a state, baby…” McGinty replies.

In flashback, McGinty explains how he came to power. One day, while standing in a soup line, the homeless McGinty was approached by a local political operative (William Demarest) and offered $2.00 on the condition that he vote for a certain mayoral candidate. McGinty agrees and then proceeds to vote 37 times. When McGinty demands $74.00 for his efforts, he’s taken to the headquarters of the Boss (Akim Tamiroff, giving a wonderfully comedic performance).

The Boss is impressed with McGinty and, despite the fact that the two of them are constantly getting into fights with each other, he employs McGinty as a collector. Eventually, he also arranges for McGinty to be elected alderman and then, running as a reform candidate, mayor.

Along the way, the Boss arranges for McGinty to get married. McGinty’s wife (Muriel Angelus) originally has little respect for McGinty but, after they marry, she starts to realize that McGinty is not quite as bad as she originally assumed. Eventually, she’s even impressed enough that she even stops seeing her boyfriend, George (Allyn Joslyn).

Meanwhile, the Boss arranges for McGinty to be elected governor. However, once McGinty has won the election, he declares that he’s going to run an honest administration. How does that turn out? Well, it should be noted that the film opens with McGinty tending bar in South America…

The Great McGinty is a lot of fun and it’s interesting to think that this unapologetically sardonic look at American politics came out just a year after Mr. Smith Goes To Washington. Imagine if Mr. Smith Goes To Washington had been told from the point of view of Edward Arnold’s Boss Taylor and you can guess what The Great McGinty is like.

If nothing else, The Great McGinty serves as a great reminder that political cynicism existed long before any of us cast our first vote.

Shattered Politics #5: Young Mr. Lincoln (dir by John Ford)

Posted on January 17, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Way back in 1939, at the same time that Jimmy Stewart was conquering Washington in Frank Capra’s Mr. Smith Goes To Washington, the great director John Ford was making a film about another man who would eventually go to Washington.

In Young Mr. Lincoln, Henry Fonda plays the future 16th President. Even though Fonda was probably far better looking than Abraham Lincoln ever was, he’s ideally cast in the role. Along with being a very natural actor, Fonda personified a certain middle-of-the-country, stoic decency. He played characters who were smart but never elitist and who were guided mostly by common decency. In short, his screen persona was everything that people tend to think about when considering Abraham Lincoln.

As for the film itself, it begins with Lincoln as a simple storekeeper who accepts, as payment for groceries, a barrel of old books. After reading the books and having a conversation with his doomed first love, Anne Rutledge (Pauline Moore), Lincoln decides to learn the law.

Years later, now a poor-but-honest lawyer, Abraham Lincoln arrives at Springfield, Illinois, sitting a top mule because he can’t afford a horse. Lincoln opens a law office, awkwardly courts the rich and spoiled Mary Todd (Marjorie Weaver), and eventually defends two brothers who have been accused of murder. While the case’s prosecutor (played by Donald Meek) may have a better education, he can’t compete with Lincoln’s common sense and ability to relate to the common people.

Obviously, the whole point behind Young Mr. Lincoln is that it’s about the early life of an American hero. You watch the entire film with the knowledge that Lincoln is going to be the man who eventually leads the U.S. during the Civil War and who frees the slaves. The viewer knows that Lincoln is going to be a great man, even if nobody else does and a good deal of the film’s effectiveness come from the moments when Fonda will strike an iconic pose or will casually deploy a familiar phase and you’re reminded of just who exactly it is he’s playing.

But, and this is why Young Mr. Lincoln remains a great film, the important thing is that the film is just effective when viewed as being a portrait of a dedicated lawyer trying to prove the innocence of his clients. Fonda is compelling as both a future President and as an honest man trying to do the right thing. Ultimately, the film would be just as compelling even if it was called Young Mr. Jones and didn’t open with soaring, patriotic music and end with a shot of the Lincoln Memorial.

It’s interesting to compare Young Mr. Lincoln to some of the other films made about Abraham Lincoln. It’s a far more assured film than D.W. Griffith’s Abraham Lincoln and, needless to say, Henry Fonda makes for a better Lincoln than Walter Huston did. At the same time, it’s far more naturalistic and less overly manipulative film than Steven Spielberg’s Lincoln. In the end, it’s a good film and a great tribute to our 16th President.

And you can watch it below!

Shattered Politics #4: Mr. Smith Goes To Washington (dir by Frank Capra)

Posted on January 17, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

So, when you read that I was going to be reviewing 94 political films here at the Shattered Lens, you probably knew that one of them would have to be the 1939 best picture nominee, Mr. Smith Goes To Washington.

So, we all know that story right? The senator from an unnamed state dies. The weak-willed Governor (Guy Kibbee) has to appoint a new senator. Political boss Jim Taylor (Edward Arnold) demands that the governor appoint one of his cronies. The state’s reformers demand that the Governor appoint a never-seen crusader named Henry Hill (who, whenever I hear his name, makes me think of Ray Liotta snorting cocaine in Goodfellas). The Governor’s children demand that he appoint Jefferson Smith (James Stewart, of course!), who is the head of something called the Boy Rangers. The Governor flips a coin. The coin lands on its edge but it also lands next to a newspaper story about Jeff Smith.

So, of course, Mr. Smith goes to Washington.

Now, as the movie quickly makes clear, Jeff Smith is immediately out-of-place in Washington. For one thing, he’s actually excited to be there. He’s convinced that he’s there to make America a better place. When a bunch of drunken reporters (led by the great Thomas Mitchell) make Smith look foolish, Smith responds by running around Washington and punching them out. (That whole sequence probably serves as wish fulfilment for a lot of politicians.) When his cynical legislative aide Saunders (Jean Arthur) tells him that he’s too naive to survive in Washington, he wins her over with the purity of his idealism. When his mentor, Senator Paine (Claude Rains), is revealed to be a part of Washington’s corrupt culture, Smith is stunned. When Taylor tries to destroy his political career, Smith responds by giving the filibuster to end all filibusters. He’s one man standing up against a culture of corruption and…

And there’s a reason why, 76 years later, aspiring political candidates still attempt to portray themselves as being a real-life, modern Jefferson Smith.

This is one of those films that everyone seems to agree is great and, of course, there’s many reasons to love Mr. Smith Goes To Washington. There’s the lead performance of Jimmy Stewart, of course. While this may not be his best performance (I prefer the more layered characterization that he brought to It’s A Wonderful Life and Anatomy of a Murder), it is Stewart at his most likable and, most importantly, he makes you feel Jeff Smith’s pain as he discovers that Washington is not the great place that he originally assumed it to be. Claude Rains was always great when it came to playing good men gone wrong and he’s perfect as Sen. Paine. Thomas Mitchell and Jean Arthur are perfectly cast and I always enjoy seeing the bemused smile on the face of Vice President Harry Carey as Smith conducts his filibuster.

But I think the best thing about Mr. Smith Goes To Washington is that it actually makes you believe that there are Jeff Smiths out there who actually could make a difference. And, until Judd Apatow gets around to remaking the film with Adam Sandler, audiences will continue to believe.

Shattered Politics #3: Hold That Co-Ed (dir by George Marshall)

Posted on January 17, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

“Americans will put up with bad government but they won’t stand for bad sportsmanship!” — A political consultant in Hold That Co-Ed (1938)

Rusty Stevens (George Murphy) is the new head football coach at State University. (Which state? We never learn for sure, though the implication is that it’s somewhere near Louisiana.) From the minute that he arrives, Rusty discovers why State’s football program is so unheralded. Not only are the majority of the students lazy and unmotivated but the college can’t even afford to buy the players uniforms. The perpetually nervous Dean Thatcher (Donald Meek) is of no help when it comes to getting the university what it needs. Even worse, the state’s Governor, Gabby Harrigan (John Barrymore), is running for the senate and he has sworn that he’s going to solve the state’s budget crisis by cutting the football program!

(Cue dramatic music. Actually, not really. There’s not a single dramatic moment to be found in Hold that Co-Ed.)

Well, what can Rusty be expected to do, other than lead all the students on a march down to the capitol building where they demand to see Gov. Harrigan. However, Harrigan is busy giving an interview and he refuses to meet with the students. Instead, he tells a fawning reporter how he is going to introduce a bill in the U.S. Senate that will guarantee all retired people, “Not one, not two, not three, but a sum of 400 dollars every month!”

After the reporter leaves, his cynical (Is there any other type?) secretary Marjorie (Marjorie Weaver) asks Harrigan how the government will ever be able to afford his plan. Harrigan says that the government can’t but “isn’t it nice for” retired people “to have something to look forward to?”

(Gov. Harrigan sounds like he could be elected President in 2016.)

Meanwhile, the college students get rowdy in the front office and end up picking up the Governor’s aide, Wilbur (Jack Haley, who a year later would play The Tin Man in The Wizard Of Oz), and passing him around over their heads. Naturally, this gets the attention of the press and suddenly, the fate of State’s football program is a campaign issue.

Upon discovering that most voters like football, Harrigan declares himself to be State’s biggest supporter and soon starts to play a very prominent role in the football program. Not only does he arrange for Lizzie Olsen (Joan Davis) to become the only female to play on a college football team (When informed that Lizzie playing is against the rules, Harrigan replies, “I’ll change them!”) but he also pays players to come to State. (When informed that paying players is against the law, Harrigan replies, “I’ll change the law!”)

It all eventually leads to Rusty romancing Marjorie and a bet between Harrigan and his opponent in the Senate race in which the outcome of the big game will determine who withdraws from the race.

Because of course it does.

First released in 1938, Hold That Co-Ed is one of those strange films that seems like it could only have come out in the 1930s. Obviously, it’s primarily a college comedy. Yet, at the same time, it’s also a musical which features Rusty randomly breaking out into song and dancing. And then, on top of that, it’s a political satire. (Reportedly, Harrigan was based on Huey Long, who also served as the basis for a far more sinister character in All The King’s Men.)

And, in its way, Hold That Co-Ed is a fun, little time capsule. If anything, the film’s political satire feels just as relevant today as it probably did when it was first released. As playing in grand theatrical fashion by John Barrymore, Gabby Harrigan could be any number of pompous, say-whatever-you-have-to-say demagogues.

What makes this film particularly interesting is just how much it’s on Harrigan’s side. Whereas most political films always feel the need to at least pretend to be on the side of “good” government, Hold that Co-Ed cheerfully celebrates Harrigan’s casual corruption. In this shrill day and age, there’s something refreshing about seeing a film that passes no judgment.

And speaking of politics, John Barrymore was never elected to political office. However, the film’s other star, George Murphy, was. He served in the U.S. Senate from 1965 to 1971.

Governor Gabby Harrigan (John Barrymore) in Hold That Co-Ed

Shattered Politics #2: They Won’t Forget (dir by Mervyn LeRoy)

Posted on January 17, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The title of the 1937 film They Won’t Forget works on many levels.

It describes the reaction of a small Southern town, following the brutal murder of teenager Mary Clay (played, in her film debut, by Lana Turner). The town won’t forget Mary and they won’t forget the terror caused by her murder. They also won’t forget that local teacher Robert Hale (Edward Norris) was accused of the crime.

The district attorney, Andrew Griffin (Claude Rains), hopes that the people of his state won’t forget his efforts to see Griffin convicted of that crime. Griffin wants to be elected to the U.S. Senate and he knows that the high profile case could be just what his career needs.

The Governor (Paul Everton) knows that, if he steps into the case and acts on his suspicion that Hale is innocent, the voters of his state will never forget. And they certainly won’t be willing to forgive.

And, on a larger level, the title lets us know that the South and the North will never forget the Civil War and the conflict between the two regions. The film opens with three elderly veterans of the Confederate Army, preparing to march in the town’s annual Confederate Memorial Day parade and admitting to each other that, after all these years, it’s difficult to remember much about the war other than the fact that they’re proud that they fought in it.

It’s while the rest of the town is busy watching Griffin and the governor ride in the parade that Mary Clay is murdered. It’s easy to assume that Hale was the murderer because Hale was one of the few townspeople not to go to the parade. You see, Hale is originally from New York City. When he’s accused of murder, it’s equally easy for Griffin and tabloid reporter William A. Brock (Allyn Joslyn) to convince the town people to blame this Northern intruder for both the murder of Mary Clay and, symbolically, for all of the post-Civil War struggles of the South itself.

Meanwhile, up North, Hale is seen as a victim of the South’s intolerance. A high-profile lawyer (Otto Kruger) is sent down to defend Hale but, as quickly becomes clear, everyone involved in the case is more interested in refighting the Civil War than determining the guilt or innocence of Andrew Hale.

They Won’t Forget is a hard-hitting and fascinating look at politics, justice, and paranoia. It’s all the more interesting because it’s based on a true story. In 1913, a 13 year-old girl named Mary Phagan was murdered in Atlanta. Leo Frank was accused and convicted of the murder. (In Frank’s case, he was born in Texas but was also Jewish and had previously lived in New York before moving to Atlanta, all of which made him suspicious in the eyes of many.) On the word of a night watchmen, who many believe was the actual murderer of Mary Phagan, Leo Frank was convicted and sentence to death. After spending days reviewing all of the evidence and growing convinced that Frank had been wrongly convicted, Georgia’s governor committed an act of political suicide by commuting Frank’s sentence to life imprisonment. Leo Frank was subsequently lynched and the man who had prosecuted the case against him was subsequently elected governor.

Well-acted and intelligently directed, They Won’t Forget is probably one of the best films of which few people have heard. Fortunately, it shows up fairly regularly on TCM and, the next time that it does, be sure to watch. It’s a great film that you won’t easily forget.

Shattered Politics #1: Abraham Lincoln (dir by D.W. Griffith)

Posted on January 17, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Unlike just about everyone else that I know, I am about as apolitical as you can get.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I always vote. I believe in …. stuff. Occasionally, I get angry about the state of the world. Why I’ll have you know that when I first registered to vote, I was really, really excited and I even sat down and researched every single person who was running for President. (And, of course, I decided I would support John Edwards because he had good hair. But then I changed my mind and ended up voting for Charles Jay, the candidate of the Personal Choice Party.) But, for whatever reason, current events have never become the obsession for me that they are for some people. You’ll never catch me posting a political meme or sagely agreeing with an activist on Facebook. It’s just not for me.

(On the plus side, this has allowed me to have friends with many diverse viewpoints and generally lead a happy life.)

At the same time, I’m also fascinated by history and history is often the story of politics and politicians. As a result, I’m far more interested in past affairs than I am in current affairs. I can spend hours talking about the election of 1876 but I could hardly care less who is elected in 2016. I know my political history well enough not to worry about the political present.

Perhaps that explains why, despite my indifference to politics, I tend to enjoy political movies. And that leads us to my latest review series here at the Shattered Lens. Over the next two weeks, I will be reviewing, in chronological order, 94 films about politics and politicians. It’s a little something I call Shattered Politics.

(For some previous examples of what I mean by review series, check out Lisa’s Homestate Reviews, Lisa Goes Back To College, Netflix Noir, 44 Days of Paranoia, Embracing the Melodrama, Back To School, and, of course, Lisa’s Marie’s Favorite Grindhouse and Exploitation Film Trailers!)

We start things off with a film from 1930. One of only two sounds films to be directed by cinematic pioneer D.W. Griffith, Abraham Lincoln is — as you might guess from the title — a 90 minute biopic about the 16th President of the United States. It tells the same basic story as Lincoln, just in a lot less time and with Walter Huston playing the title role. The film opens in 1809 with his birth then speeds forward to detail his tragic love affair with Ann Rutledge (played by Una Merkel) and his subsequent marriage to Mary Todd (Kay Hammond). We get a snippet of the Lincoln-Douglas debates and then, just as quickly, Abe is President, the country plunges into civil war, and an alcoholic actor named John Wilkes Booth (Ian Keith) is meeting with disreputable looking men in a shadowy bar and making shadowy plans.

Any honest review of this version of Lincoln’s life needs to deal with the obvious. Abraham Lincoln was released 84 years ago, at a time when the film industry was still struggling to make the transition from silent to sound film. In other words, the film is stiff, stagey, and full of actors who alternate between shouting their dialogue and delivering their lines through nervously clinched teeth. This is essentially a silent film — complete with overdramatic title cards and heavy-handed symbolism — that just happens to feature some very awkwardly delivered dialogue. Walter Huston is occasionally effective as Lincoln but, just as often, he’s not.

However, Abraham Lincoln is fascinating to watch from a historical point of view. It helps if you know a little something about director D.W. Griffith. Almost all of the narrative techniques that we now take for granted were originally introduced to cinema by D.W. Griffith and many of them were introduced in his controversial 1915 epic, The Birth of a Nation.

Of course, Griffith’s legacy is problematic precisely because of The Birth of a Nation. An epic look at the Civil War, Birth not only featured white actors in black face menacing Lillian Gish but also ended with the Ku Klux Klan heroically riding to the rescue. That even viewers in 1915 were critical of the film’s racism and overly pro-Confederate sentiments should tell you something about just how extreme the film truly was.

(That said, one huge fan of the film was U.S. President and aspiring dictator Woodrow Wilson.)

By most accounts, Griffith was stunned by the negative reaction to The Birth of a Nation and several of his subsequent films (most famously, Intolerance) were meant to answer his critics.

That’s what makes the opening scenes of Abraham Lincoln all the more interesting. The film opens in 1809 with a shot of a ship on the ocean. We catch a glimpse of the Africans chained in the lower decks. Two white slave traders are seen carrying a dead body to the side of the ship and tossing it overboard.

We cut to Virginia, where we see a group of slave owners complaining about how the North is harming them financially by trying to end the slave trade. One of the men says that the only man who could have kept the north and south united is dead. The camera pans up to a picture of George Washington.

Then, the scene cuts to Boston. A group of northerners sit around a table and talk about how slavery is harming the north economically and therefore, it has to end. One of the northerners says that the only man who could have kept north and south united is dead. Again, the camera pans up to a picture of George Washington.

And, it’s a wonderfully effective sequence, one that not only reveals the economic reasons behind most wars but one which also reveals the cruelty, inhumanity, and pure evil of slavery. (That said, when the film later shows us a glimpse of life in the Confederacy, Griffith does include a couple of slaves cheerfully dancing in the background.)

And, as awkward as the scenes involving dialogue are (the less said about the scenes between Walter Huston and Una Merkel, the better), Griffith does occasionally show the visual flair that was his trademark. One excellent sequence involves soldier after soldier lining up, one after the other and each of them staring straight into the camera as they prepare to go to war. When the film concentrates on scenes of men marching across the countryside, it actually works.

Then again, you may just want to see the film for the chance to hear one extra, when asked the identity of a man giving a fiery speech, awkwardly explain, “That’s the actor, John Wilkes Booth. Not much of an actor but he’s got a way with the ladies!”

It’s really up to you.