MIRACLE ON 34TH STREET: Blu-ray (2oth Century-Fox, 1947) Fox Home Video
In accepting his
Best Supporting Actor Oscar as Kris Kringle, Edmund Gwenn committed a cardinal
sin as far as his pint-sized co-star in 1947’s Miracle on 34th Street was concerned; showing up to the ceremony in
a tuxedo sans Kringle’s whiskers and thanking ‘the real’ Santa Claus for his great success. To Natalie Wood – and
millions like her, then and ever since – Gwenn is the embodiment of this
benevolent holiday icon. Never mind North America’s appreciation for the
perpetually jolly ‘fat man in the red suit’
derives from Haddon Sundblom’s phenomenally effective 1931 marketing campaign
for Coca-Cola – a trademark soon to become a tradition; ‘the real’ St. Nick (on whom the modern mythology of Santa Claus was
superficially based) bears a more striking resemblance to one of the apostles
from the Bible. But no - the man with the bag and the reindeer is, alas, a sham
– a clever one at that, with Gwenn typifying its manufactured legend just a
scan sixteen years after it was first established, merely to sell more carbonated
beverages during the month of December.
In an ironic
twist of fate, the English-born and West End accomplished Gwenn, an actor far
greater than this singular stint as the joyously genuine merry-maker of
mistletoe and holly has since been ensconced as the surrogate for this classic
figure. And why not? Who can resist
Gwenn, then age seventy, when he musters a devious little twinkle in his eye,
correcting a harried window dresser about the placement of his reindeer in a holiday display, catching an equally frazzled
Macy’s Day Parade coordinator, Doris Walker (Maureen O’Hara) off guard after
she has already learned the man she hired to ‘play’ Santa is a drunk; befuddling department store psychiatrist,
Granville Sawyer (Porter Hall) by ever so gingerly taking over the examination
and asking the questions, and finally, astutely rifling the uber-clever
District Attorney, Thomas Mara (Jerome Cowan) with equally as slick replies to
his sly inquiries under oath and cross-examination. “What is your name?” Mara insists. “Kris Kringle,” Gwenn’s ebullient gentlemen answers. “Where do you live?” Mara sternly
inquires, rolling his eyes in anticipation of the expected response. “That is what this hearing will decide,”
Kringle soundly and unexpectedly suggests.
By now, Miracle on 34th Street ought to be
required viewing for every living soul on this planet between the ages of five
and one-hundred; its sentimental premise, putting a man on trial for lunacy
simply because he suffers from the milk of human kindness, all too plausible in
a world increasingly gone mad and long ago turned commercial, simply to make a
buck. Yet, in the Spring of 1947, New York film critic, Bosley Crowthers, not
generally known for his plaudits, positively gushed in his review of this film,
concluding, “Let us heartily proclaim
that it is the freshest little picture in a long time, and maybe even the best
comedy of this year.” But perhaps the greatest miracle of all achieved by
director, George Seaton was his cleverly concocted and featherweight Christmas
offering survived 2oth Century-Fox mogul, Darryl F. Zanuck’s incongruous
executive decision to release a holiday-themed movie in the middle of May; the
obvious disconnect mercifully unable to dissuade audiences from flocking to see
it. In an industry where most movies play for maybe a week or two in first-run
movie houses, Miracle on 34th Street
bucked this trend to remain in theaters for more than half a year.
And yet, Fox’s
PR department had a hell of a time orchestrating publicity for it. As example:
virtually none of the poster art depicts Edmund Gwenn in full Santa Claus
regalia. The movie’s tagline ‘meet the
man who made the miracle’, about as cryptic as any ever concocted to sell
tickets; the coming attractions trailer even more obtuse, featuring a fake
studio mogul, proclaiming no movie could be romantic, funny, an intimate drama
and a family feature all rolled into one, before screening mere snippets from
the rough edit, only to declare that ‘yes’…one
film could encapsulate all of these admirable
qualities. In the wake of Edmund Gwenn’s superb characterization, many reviews
gently overlooked the more sublime contributions put forth by stars, Maureen
O’Hara and John Payne (cast as her love interest, defense attorney, Fred Gailey);
also, nine-year-old Natalie Wood (as Doris’ daughter, Susan) – an exquisite
foil whose practicality dissolves when she discovers the true spirit of
Christmas in her abiding faith in Kris over her mother’s more cynical ‘common
sense’. The kernel of an idea for Miracle
on 34th Street came from screen scenarist, Valentine Davies’ last-minute
Christmas shopping experiences in 1944; beleaguered by all the overcrowded
fussing and frayed nerves during this, the supposed ‘most wonderful time of the year’. In re-envisioning and expanding
upon Davies’ initial treatment, Seaton would have to overcome his own set of
obstacles – not the least, photographing more than half his picture on location
during the heady 1946 Christmas season inside Manhattan’s flagship Macy’s
Department Store; a second unit doing stock shots both in and outside, covering
the Thanksgiving Day Parade by day; the film’s stars and Seaton working like
mad after hours once Macy’s had closed its doors to the paying public.
In hindsight, Miracle on 34th Street is a blessed
offering, infused with immeasurable charm, wit and heartwarming Hollywood-ized
sentimentality. Remarkably, it never veers into predictable saccharine. The
trick and even the joy to be gleaned from the exercise can be summed up in two
words – or rather, one name: Edmund Gwenn. Alas, this did not dissuade the
late, John Hughes from challenging the original’s endurance with a wholly
lackluster remake in 1994; the usually keen Hughes, going on record as stating
he simply could not understand why Miracle
on 34th Street had endured these many years; in hindsight, a grotesquely
inane and ridiculously foolhardy comment. For even with color and stereo to his
benefit, Hughes’ remake is a joyless excursion, incapable of holding even the
faintest flicker of a candle to Seaton’s B&W masterwork. Miracle of 34th Street not only defied
Hollywood convention in its own time, it went on to become one of Fox’s biggest
and brightest money makers of 1947, with uninterrupted, sold-out engagements
from mid-summer right on through to December 30th.
However, it is a
shay premature to praise Darryl Zanuck for the wherewithal and instincts that
contributed to its’ success; particularly since the old-time mogul was in minor
panic mode for a slam-bang hit to pull Fox from its recent financial doldrums.
But even Zanuck could not have anticipated the tidal wave of critical plaudits
and overwhelming public response to this picture. Yet, in hindsight it all
seems so perfectly predictable. How could it miss? Easily, as Valentine Davies
high concept for this holiday movie repeatedly fell on deaf ears over the next
three years; his pitch to directors and executives infrequently dashed and/or
overlooked. But Seaton was a gambling man – a trait Zanuck admired. Moreover,
Seaton loved Davies’ idea. So, Zanuck green lit the project as a B-unit
programmer – perhaps, on faith alone; then, bumped the budget to A-list levels
after early rushes looked promising. Fox, one of the first studios to go ‘on
location’, was to inadvertently preserve another institution in the process.
Macy’s
Thanksgiving Day Parade – a tradition begun in 1924 – had seen its popularity
slide between 1940 and ’46. At one point, Macy’s even contemplated disbanding
its sponsorship of the event; a move that would have sealed its fate. But after
Miracle on 34th Street’s triumphant
premiere, Manhattan streets were once again jam-packed to maximum capacity with
spectators. New Yorkers and tourists alike have been crowding the curbs with
giddy anticipation for the floats, marching bands, and, the arrival of Kris
Kringle ever since. As the custodians of this grand affair, Macy’s willingly
opened its doors, as well as their hearts to Seaton’s production; allowing the
director unprecedented access to activities on their floor as well as the
behind-the-scenes hustle and bustle inside their upstairs offices, during and
after peak hours of operation. For consistency’s sake, Seaton’s artistic
license created a fictional R.H. Macy (played in the movie by Harry Antrim)
when in actuality, the company was no longer owed by the Macy family in 1947,
and the real Rowland Hussey (R.H.) Macy had died all the way back in 1877 from
Bright’s Disease. Seaton would also create a fictional ‘friendly’ rivalry
between Macy’s and Gimbel’s (a facsimile of Mr. Gimbel, played by Herbert
Heyes, substituting for the Gimbel brothers, who had co-founded this legendary
department store).
It goes without
saying Miracle on 34th Street’s cast
made an indelible impression; Maureen O’Hara’s vivacious marketing executive,
John Payne’s agreeable attorney at law, and, Natalie Wood’s plucky and
occasionally pert, prepubescent nonbeliever all strike a sincere chord. Even
the supporting cast excels. Who can forget Porter Hall’s Granville Sawyer, a
fidgety fussbudget who compounds the mad frenzy of this holiday season by
setting into motion a plot to have Santa Claus tried for lunacy? Or Philip
Tonge’s officious marketing exec’ Julian Shellhammer, quietly spiking his
wife’s martinis to get her drunk and compliant with his enterprising notion to
have Kris come live with them (a plan thwarted when Fred Gailey instead coaxes
Kris to occupy his apartment; thus, nearer to Doris and Susan); William
Frawley’s behind the scenes political muckraker, pulling the puppet string on
Gene Lockhart’s playfully frazzled Judge Louis Harper. In reviewing Miracle on 34th Street today, one is
immediately dumbstruck by the instant identity drawn even from the cameos:
Alvin Greenman’s sad-eyed and pudgy custodian, Alfred, and, Thelma Ritter’s
harried shopper, adding subtle jabs of pleasure to this warm-hearted milieu.
Enough cannot be
said of Natalie Wood’s old soul: a superbly aged persimmon well-versed beyond
her nine years. Wood’s interactions with Gwenn are charming - period. More than
that – they speak to the child in us all, our innate desire to believe in
miracles – great and small – satisfying our wish fulfillment by discovering the
unlikeliest truth wrapped in the enigma of a fairy tale, held together by blind
faith…even when common sense suggests otherwise. For those not yet acquainted with the magic
of this timeless tale: the plot concerns a kindly old gentleman, Kris (Gwenn)
who firmly believes he is the one and only jolly man in the red suit. Kris is
accidentally discovered by Macy’s parade coordinator, Doris Walker, after the
man (Percy Helton) she has hired to play Santa in the Thanksgiving Day Parade
is discovered to be severely intoxicated. Replacing the drunken Santa at a
moment’s notice, Kris is beguiling and immediately put on full salary at Macy’s
where Toy exec, Julian Shellhammer is certain he will become a ‘born salesman’.
But Kris confounds the sensibilities of Doris’ precocious and bright-eyed
daughter, Susan after he manages to sing and speak to a little Dutch refugee
(Marlene Lyden) in her native tongue. “Susan,
I speak French but that doesn’t make me Joan of Arc!” Doris attempts to
reason. Nevertheless, Susan’s certainty in grounded logic has been ever so
slightly shaken. It will only continue to erode from here.
In hindsight, Miracle on 34th Street is rather
progressive in its portrait of the single mother; herein exemplified by Maureen
O’Hara’s elegant matriarch who manages to balance work and home while falling
hopelessly in love with attorney, Fred Gailey, who just happens to live in the
apartment across the hall. Coming to realize Kris actually believes he is Santa
Claus, Doris worries about having a delusional old man interacting with
impressionable children. Kris’ attempts to anesthetize her apprehensions fall
short; particularly when he suggests “You
see, Mrs. Walker, this is quite an opportunity for me. For the past fifty years
or so I've been getting more and more worried about Christmas. Seems we're all
so busy trying to beat the other fellow in making things go faster and look
shinier and cost less that Christmas and I are sort of getting lost in the
shuffle. You see Christmas isn’t just a day. It’s a frame of mind – and that’s
what’s been changing. And you and Suzie are the whole thing in miniature. If I
can’t win you over then I’m through. But I warn you – I don’t give up easily!” This
leads into one of ‘Miracle’s’ most amusing vignettes; Doris, suggesting Kris take
‘an examination’ administered by the store’s doctor, Granville Sawyer. Kris,
astutely confronts Doris, adding “A
mental examination? Oh, I’ve taken dozens. Know them by heart.” As a
demonstration of his mental acuity, Kris begins to ask and answer the scripted
questions that are a part of the standardized sanity quiz: “How many days in a week? Seven. How many fingers am I holding up?
Four. Who was the first president of the United States? George Washington.”
Kris’ verve for knowledge and the swiftness with which he dispatches all the
right answers reaches its self-evasive crescendo when he deviates to add, “Who was the Vice President under John
Quincy Adams…Daniel D. Tompkins, and I’ll bet your Mr. Sawyer doesn’t know
that!”
Doris’ fears are
compounded by Sawyer’s bitter snap analysis, that Kris is apt to become violent
if confronted in his delusion. Her concerns are quelled by the kindlier Dr.
Pierce (James Seay) a geriatric specialist working at the Brook’s Home for Old
People in Great Neck where Kris has been a resident for some time. Pierce
suggests someone in town rent Kris a room for the holidays while he is employed
at Macy’s. Doris hopes Julian will oblige. And although he does indeed convince
his wife (Lela Bliss) – after a few triple-strength martinis – to rent Kris
their son’s spare room, the offer is intercepted by Fred who has decided Kris
should move in with him. Fred’s invitation is hardly philanthropic. Having
admired Doris from afar, it is Fred’s hope Doris’ daily interactions with Kris
will soften her wounded ‘matter of fact’
outlooks on life and lead to a romance. Indeed, Doris shields her heart from a
messy divorce and lingering resentments towards all men with a seemingly
impervious and glacial façade; determined to deny herself the opportunity to
fall in love again.
Unfortunately,
Kris comes into conflict over Sawyer’s mean-spirited psychoanalysis of Alfred –
an impressionable custodian whom Sawyer suggests is suffering from a guilt
complex. Kris confronts Sawyer with his balderdash, threatening to go to R.H.
Macy and report him as a malicious and contemptible fraud. Instead, Sawyer lies
to Julian after Kris gives him a bump on the noggin with his walking stick; the
two, plotting to have Kris committed to the state asylum. Believing Doris was
complicit in their decision, Kris gives up all hope and deliberately fails his
psychiatric exam. His case comes before Judge Henry Harper. Meanwhile, Kris’
defense is launched by Fred. Much to
Doris’ dismay, Fred quits a successful firm to take Kris’ case pro bono after
his law partners threaten sanctions. Now Fred is determined to go it alone. “Faith is believing when common sense tells
you not to,” Fred tries to explain to his lover, “Don't you see? It's not just Kris that's on trial, it's everything he
stands for. It’s kindness and joy and love and all the other intangibles.”
Barring Doris’ utter lack of faith in him, Fred lowers the boom. “Look Doris, someday you're going to find
that your way of facing this realistic world just doesn't work. And when you
do, don't overlook those lovely intangibles. You'll discover those are the only
things that are worthwhile.” Fred shares something of Kris’ intangible
goodness and desire to be kind to people. But it isn’t going to be easy. After
all, what authoritative proof can he offer the court in support of his claim
Kris is Santa Claus? Even as R.H. Macy is inspired to testify on Kris’ behalf,
partly to shield his store from a public scandal, but genuinely accepting of
Kris as the real McCoy, this is not enough to sway a judge.
The District
Attorney, Thomas Mara, is confident he has an airtight case against Kris.
Worse, Judge Harper is cornered by political shill, Charlie Halloran (William
Frawley) and urged to reconsider the merits of the case, both pro and con.
Ruling in favor of Kris will make Harper a laughing stock, virtually
un-electable to another term on the bench. But officially declaring there is no
such person as Santa Claus will have even more devastating repercussions for
Harper’s political future. As Halloran points out in his private consultations
with Harper, “All right, you go back and
tell them the New York State Supreme Court rules there's no Santa Claus. It's
all over the papers. The kids read it and they don't hang up their stockings.
Now what happens to all the toys that are supposed to be in those stockings?
Nobody buys them. The toy manufacturers are going to like that. So they have to
lay off a lot of their employees - union employees. Now you got the CIO and the
AF of L against you and they're going to adore you for it and they're going to
say it with votes. Oh, and the department stores are going to love you too -
and the Christmas card makers and the candy companies. Ho-ho, Henry; you're
going to be an awfully popular fella. And what about the Salvation Army? Why,
they got a Santy Claus on every corner, and they take in a fortune. But you go
ahead Henry. You do it your way. You go on back in there and tell them that you
rule there is no Santy Claus. But if you do, remember this: you can count on
getting just two votes: your own, and, that district attorney's out there!”
It all seems
rather hopeless. But in a gracious whim of fate, a New York postal employee
(Jack Albertson) decides to redirect all the dead letters sent by children in
the five boroughs to Santa Claus to the County Court House instead. Since
misdirecting mail deliberately is a federal offense, Fred uses the arrival of
these bags and bags of mail as
irrefutable proof the Federal Government has certified Kris as the one and only
Santa Claus. The case against him dismissed, Kris invites Doris, Fred and Susan
to the Brook’s Home for Christmas dinner. Susan races to the tree in search of
a gift she hopes Kris has managed to arrange for her. Earlier, Susan had shown
Kris a picture of a house from the real estate pages, declaring her greatest
wish would be to leave Manhattan for a ‘real home’ in the suburbs with a front
porch and a backyard swing. Alas, there is no indication at the party that Kris
has managed to fulfill this wish. Wounded by what she perceives as Kris’s
betrayal of her faith in him, Susan’s disappointment is quelled by Doris who explains
that sometimes faith must be applied, but especially when common sense suggests
otherwise.
Afterward, Kris
sketches out the details of a ‘faster’ route home for Fred and Doris. The
couple has remained frosty in their relationship since before the trial.
However, while driving back to Manhattan, Susan suddenly sees the home from the
picture she gave Kris, ordering Uncle Fred to stop the car. Racing into the
empty house, its front door unlocked and a ‘for sale’ sign firmly planted in
the lawn out front, Susan is at first disciplined by Doris. But the child’s
abiding conviction in miracles has been restored. No amount of cajoling or
explaining will dissuade her from believing in Kris now. And it almost makes
sense she should so implicitly trust him – especially after Fred and Doris eye
Kris’s walking stick – the one he always carries – propped up against a wall
near the fireplace. Did he simply arrange for their arrival, or did he really
get Suzie her dream house? We are never entirely certain and it is probably
just as well. Our faith in Edmund Gwenn’s kindly old gent with the quaintly
slick ability to make us all believe in miracles has remained intact ever
since.
There is no
getting around it. Miracle on 34th
Street is a perfect gem – period. Beyond it being a certified holiday
classic, the picture remains one of the most heart-warming romantic comedies
ever conceived. Over the years, others have tried to recapture its magic without
success. John Hughes’ totally charm-free clunker, co-starring Richard Attenborough
as Kris and the sickeningly sweet Mara Wilson as Susan is perhaps the most
egregious transgressor of the lot. But it really does not matter. So long as
Seaton’s original endures – and, in all likelihood it will for many years yet
to come – the legacy of Coca-Cola’s Santa Claus will forever be joined at the
hip to Edmund Gwenn’s iconic performance as the man with the bag. All marketing
coyness aside: Gwenn’s Kringle is the real deal. Aside: at our house every year,
we watch Miracle on 34th
Street on American Thanksgiving, as its story begins precisely then. The
movie has remained the perfect kick start to the pending Christmas holidays
ever since.
Last year, Fox
Home Video re-reissued Miracle on 34th
Street yet again for its 70th anniversary. Alas, they did so
with the same flawed 1080p transfer mastered nearly a decade earlier. Until
last year’s reissue, there had been rumors Fox was working on a remaster of this
immortal holiday treasure – but no. This is strictly a repackaged affair and
soooooo disappointing to report. For one thing, the image herein is much too
dark – as virtually all of Fox’s early hi-def remastering efforts of their
B&W deep catalog inexplicably suffered from the same darker than
anticipated imagry. The problem here is that contrast looks artificially
boosted and somewhat harsh – the blacks, so deep that fine detail gets lost in
the velvety richness. The image is also periodically marred by obvious and
distracting edge enhancement. So, fine details shimmer. This should have been
eradicated long ago. There is also a modicum of sporadic image instability that
could also have been easily corrected with a new scan of the film elements. If
viewed in a completely darkened room, it is possible to marginally enjoy this
1080p transfer, despite these inconsistencies. But fine details have been
artificially sharpened to compensate for this excessively dark presentation:
the result – the image looks artificially harsh instead of subtly nuanced.
Badly done!
Fox could have –
and should have – corrected these
anomalies for an edition earmarked for its ‘70th
Anniversary’. The audio here is mono as originally intended and quite
acceptable. Extras are direct imports from the previously issued DVD and
include an all-too-brief episode of Hollywood Back Story on the making
of the film – rather scant on detail but containing some good interviews with
surviving cast members. There is also a featurette on Macy’s Thanksgiving Day
Parade. The late Maureen O'Hara's reflections have also been preserved in an
audio commentary – an exceptionally fine listen from a very gracious lady. Miracle on 34th Street is art. Yet, as
a cultural artifact, having withstood changing social mores, film art deserves
no less consideration than the classic paintings of the undisputed masters.
Movies like Miracle on 34th Street
are the Mona Lisas and The Last Suppers of their generation, and very much more
in desperate need of some quality preservation/restoration efforts applied to
ensure their longevity. For too long, neglect has been the order of the day;
Hollywood en masse, simply contented to let the past molder and plain away from
our collective consciousness. Frankly, such abject disdain for the past is
disgusting – period!
Begging the
reader’s indulgence here, studio logic, when it comes to their archives has
always baffled me. On the one hand, maintaining the films under the rubric of ‘asset management’ has yielded some
phenomenal preservation work done on some very fine motion picture art. On the
other hand, studios continue to turn a blind eye on any project in which the
perceived fiscal returns do not align with their expectations as a profit
center. Well, fellas – and I am speaking collectively to the choir here – the
reputation of your studios was not built on the movies put into production over
the last 20 years. It was founded on the building blocks and principles of the
art the moguls wrought. You are merely the custodians of this legacy. And, as
custodians, your job is to preserve, protect and honor the past as they would
have. Placing films on the critical list in a ‘turnaround’ purgatory is not the answer. Nor should it remain the
executive logic to set aside art for the sake of cost. Again, turning to the
restoration of more traditional forms of art, as say, Michelangelo’s Sistine
Chapel: do you think the modus operandi here was prompted on a cost per
admission basis in tourist trade? Hardly. It was based on the due diligence the
Italian government possesses for its own heritage and the investment, not only by
the Vatican, but also private and public sponsors to see a cultural artifact
preserved in perpetuity. Why is this ‘gathering
of the clan’ attitude, this communal outpouring from novice film lovers,
major Hollywood big shots, the studio front offices, and other media
apparatuses devoted to ‘the arts’ never given the same ample push in North
America? Hmmm. But someone somewhere had
better pick up the baton here and soon, while archival elements are still
salvageable.
Film, alas, is not
forever. It decays, decomposes and eventually turns to chalk, leaving only
memories behind. And memory, alas, fades. So, preservation must be the order of
the day. No time like the present, folks. No time, indeed. At this late stage
in the hi-def mastering game no one should be pleased with, or willing to
accept, Fox’s shortsightedness as is exhibited herein as par for the course:
aliasing, edge enhancement and shimmering of fine details. Yuck! By 2018, such digital anomalies ought to have
been eradicated as surely as they could have been as easily corrected with
funds allocated to a new 4K scan. New cover art is nice, folks. But it does not
excuse poor Blu-ray authoring. It never will.
Bottom line: Miracle on 34th
Street is a movie of immense charm and immeasurable delights. It will
surely endure as long as the spirit of Christmas. What we need from Fox is a
new transfer. At this late stage in hi-def Blu-ray authoring, fans of this
movie deserve nothing less. For shame, Fox. For shame, a thousand times more!
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
5+
VIDEO/AUDIO
2.5
EXTRAS
2.5
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