GENTLEMAN'S AGREEMENT: Blu-ray (2oth Century-Fox, 1947) Fox Home Video

BEST PICTURE - 1947

Some movies are undeniably a product of their time; others still, created with the purpose of addressing some socio-economic or political issue that, while relevant to the overall arc of human history when the movie was made, has since grown dated in both its premise and execution. Partly, for these reasons, Elia Kazan’s Oscar-winning Gentleman’s Agreement (1947) has not fared well – its deconstruction of the WASP power structure and its’ disquieting antisemitism, though hardly timely, and still very much with us – ultimately handled with too much reverence by Kazan. The melodrama creaks like an old wooden barn; its educational precepts, buried beneath Kazan’s unusually heavy-handed directorial approach, and, a lumbering screenplay by Moss Hart, whose fervent desire to expose social injustice has inadvertently blunted the overall impact of this ‘message picture’. And Gentleman’s Agreement is unmistakably a ‘message picture’; righteous and preachy, despite some first-rate performances; particularly, the incandescent Celeste Holm as uber-classy fashion editor, Anne Dettrey and John Garfield’s stoic ‘man against the world’/returning war hero, Dave Goldman. Regrettably, these are supporting players, relegated to the backdrop of an otherwise killjoy romance between upper crust socialite, Kathy Lacey (the charm-free and wooden, Dorothy McGuire) and widower/newspaper writer, Phil Green (Gregory Peck).  Personally, I think McGuire came into her own later on in her career, especially when cast as matronly figures. But as a romantic love interest herein, she is decidedly out of season – not quite as fresh-faced as one would expect of an ingénue, yet smelling of soap rather than smoldering sex appeal.

For all his manly propriety and defiant pride, Gregory Peck remains rather stalwart and stuffy as the romantic suitor – torn between love of family, pride of conscience and lust for a woman he knows harbors traces of the very prejudice his own moral high ground seeks to expose and dismantle.  Kathy, however, never quite undergoes that ‘full conversion’ of seeing things Phil’s way. And, it is doubtful, as written and performed by Peck and McGuire, that this couple will ever truly see eye to eye on the matter of discrimination. Point of fact: Hollywood looked upon Laura Z. Hobson’s best-selling novel with some trepidation. For better or worse, Hollywood Jews have always been reluctant to claim themselves as such in public, even more adverse to tell stories about themselves on celluloid. Warner Bros. The Jazz Singer (1927) was about the bravest of the lot until Charlie Chaplin shook the glass pedestal to its core with The Great Dictator (1940). In The Jazz Singer’s case, its fictional story of a cantor’s son, Jakie Rabinowitz (played with a luminous presence by Al Jolson), shunning his heritage to become a Broadway crooner, reconciling his faith with his profession before the final reel, left audiences cheering for more. By contrast, Chaplin’s outrageous political satire, railing against an Adolf Hitler-esque potentate (deposed by a Jewish tailor no less), left critics divided. Accused by one such cultural mandarin of being Jewish after the picture’s release, Chaplin politely declined, adding “I’ve not that honor.”

We must also consider that with few exceptions, war movies of a certain ilk (1939-50) avoided commenting on the holocaust entirely; content, merely to spin their ‘guns a blazing’ yarns of macho heroism against the Nazi foe. In this light, we can almost forgive the myth about Hollywood being exclusively managed by Jews - an over exaggeration, despite their monumental influence on shaping celluloid Americana with a gentile-centric slant. Behind the scenes, puppet masters like Sam Goldwyn, L.B. Mayer, the brothers Warner, David O. Selznick and Harry Cohn held dominion over a glamorous assemblage of stars. But a dirty little secret beyond Tinsel Town’s borders persisted. Jews – even of the celebrity ilk – were not welcome in some of the older establishments, hurriedly to put up ‘reserved’ signage to keep them out. By what barometer can it be measured that the outlook for Jews in Hollywood became even less rosy after the release of Gentleman’s Agreement. Hmmm. Certainly, the House Un-American Activities’ witch-hunt, soon to kick into high gear under Sen. Joseph McCarthy, was as anti-Semitic as it was anti-Communist.

So, 2oth Century-Fox’s studio chief, Darryl F. Zanuck’s decision to cast a pall and a spotlight on this enduring prejudice at home must have seemed fairly ballsy to say the least. And while Hobson’s novel was more or less involved in these revelations, Zanuck’s movie version went into ‘safe mode’ as a standard melodrama. Arguably, Gentleman’s Agreement’s Oscar cache was gleaned from the book’s anti-Semitism protocol – then, even more taboo in Hollywood. Reportedly, Zanuck sought to do the movie after being denied entry into Los Angeles’ Country Club, as the club’s management erroneously presumed Zanuck was Jewish. Even without the snub, Gentleman’s Agreement was right up Zanuck’s alley. Throughout the 1940’s, Zanuck had proven his harshest critics wrong; tackling some of the most ‘unpopular’ subject matter, transformed into praise-worthy and profitable motion pictures. Moreover, Zanuck knew the sting of injustice well and figured on Elia Kazan for his right-hand – a film-maker whose proactive daring and desire to make good pictures about important topics, perfectly aligned with Zanuck’s own.

Regrettably, the name Elia Kazan is most readily remembered today for being a HUAC stoolie, whose naming of names under duress, effectively resulted in the blacklisting of many of his contemporaries. This unglamorous chapter in Kazan’s private life has all but eclipsed his stature as a brilliant film maker. It was, after all, Kazan who gave us the heartbreaking. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1945); Kazan, who would later wow us with A Streetcar Named Desire (1951), and would continue to do movies about tough social issues: unionized graft (1954’s On The Waterfront), adolescent sexuality (Baby Doll, 1956), miscegenation and racism (Pinky, 1949) and self-destructive/all-consuming love (1961’s Splendor in the Grass). Gentleman’s Agreement is not Kazan’s finest hour as a film maker – not by a long shot; a genuine shame, since in Hobson’s novel he seems to have the perfect subject matter for another searing exposé. Yet, as pure entertainment, Gentleman’s Agreement founders. Phil Green’s moral objections are saintlier and pontificating, rather than heartfelt and purposeful. At times, Gregory Peck seems as though even he is not entirely certain about the merits of the diatribes issuing from his lips. And Dorothy McGuire’s WASP is too good to be wrong, yet too wrong to be worthy of Phil’s crusader.

The movie embarks as a message picture, but then awkwardly segues into a romantic melodrama at its midway point; thereafter, waffling between these two diametrically opposed interests, neither ever to become integrated in any sort of meaningful way.  We wait for Kathy to come to the conclusion she has been wrong in her thinking - an epiphany denied the character and the audience. Instead, Kathy is contented to accept what Phil says because she loves him – not because she believes what he says to be the morally upstanding thing to do. And Phil, having realized just how Kathy truly feels, is just as contented to forgo her ‘mild aspersions’ toward people of the Jewish faith, because he wants to belong to someone once again – even if she is unworthy of his time and devotion. No, it just doesn’t work – and Kazan does not seem particularly engaged to suggest that it ever will. Because it plays it safe, Gentleman’s Agreement emerges as a rather pedestrian affair; amiably acted, valiantly directed, but coming off as a lush and lovely waxworks with a tinge of pro-activism tacked on for good measure.

Our story begins in earnest with the arrival of widowed journalist, Philip Schuyler Green (Gregory Peck), who has brought his young son, Tommy (Dean Stockwell) and mother (Anne Revere) to New York City for a fresh start, following the death of his beloved wife. Joining a prestigious magazine, Green gets into the good graces of its publisher, John Minify (Albert Dekker) who encourages his hot new writer to do piece on antisemitism. The project, however, does not appeal to Green at first. He needs an angle to become inspired.  So, Green decides to adopt a Jewish persona – a.k.a., Phil Greenberg – and write about his personal experiences as a ‘Jew’. The idea has merit. Minify agrees to keep Phil’s true identity a secret. But almost immediately, Phil begins to feel the quiet, but very ugly sting of antisemitism creep into his comfortable middle-class surroundings. Tommy is called names and beat up in the schoolyard and Phil can sense suddenly glacial glances from his colleagues who considered him a friend at first. Phil meets Minify’s niece, Kathy Lacey (Dorothy McGuire) who had suggested the series of articles to her uncle. The two are instantly attracted to one another. But later, Phil confides to his mother he is not entirely comfortable the idea for his stories came from a woman. Still, as women go – Kathy acquits herself quite nicely of the role of the socialite; slumming it a few days a week as a substitute teacher while her uncle foots the bills for her fashionable apartment and lifestyle. Phil and Kathy begin a liaison. However, this reaches its first stumbling block when Phil reveals to her his intentions of writing the articles from observations made as a Jew.

Kathy’s inquiry as to whether Phil is really Jewish throws an unexpected monkey wrench into their fledgling relationship. After all, what are the merits of Kathy’s liberal views if she remains inhibited by the same social prejudices she supposedly seeks to depose? Meanwhile, believing Phil is Jewish, his new secretary, Elaine Wales (June Havoc) confides that she is too, then reveals to him that in order to get the job with the magazine she had to change her name and lie on her application. Phil tells Minify, who promptly implements a new hiring policy that Elaine fears will allow ‘the wrong Jews’ to get in and ruin it for the few who are currently employed by the magazine.  Meanwhile, as Phil’s relationship with Kathy becomes more strained, he becomes acquainted with the magazine’s fashion editor, Anne Dettrey (Celeste Holm) over cocktails. Anne is a devoted friend who might be something more if things between Kathy and Phil do not improve. At the same time, Phil takes in Dave Goldman (John Garfield); a dear friend who, having retired from the army, is looking to move his family to New York City. Dave is supportive of Phil’s plan to expose the unspoken bigotry of middle-class America. But he sincerely worries for Phil and his family’s safety.

When Tommy returns, bloodied by another schoolyard brawl, Kathy consoles him with the understanding that the racial slurs he has endured are without merit because he knows he is no more Jewish than she is. Kathy’s attitude toward the whole matter alarms Phil who briefly ponders postponing their engagement. His apprehensions are not quelled when Kathy’s sister, Jane (Jane Wyatt) throws the couple a party at her home in Darien, Connecticut, a community where anti-Jewish sentiments run high. Although Jane’s friends are polite to Phil, many choose not to attend the party at the last minute, and those who do are decidedly going through the motions to remain cordial, while silently abhorring Phil with their accusatory glances. Dave informs Phil he will have to quit his new job because he cannot find sufficient housing for his family in New York. Knowing Kathy’s family owns a vacant cottage in Darien, Phil offers to talk to Kathy about renting it out. But she is reluctant to do so, presumably more concerned over what her friends will think than whether or not such friends are worth having in the first place. Phil is disgusted by her apprehension and breaks off their engagement.

Distraught, Kathy tells Dave she attended a party where a guest told a racially-loaded joke that made her ill. But when Dave questions as to what action she took, Kathy confides she did nothing. Dave suggests that racial prejudice will forever endure as long as the people who should know better do nothing to confront it. Phil finishes his series of articles for the magazine. However, upon publication of the first piece, despite receiving critical acclaim, Phil informs Minify he intends to resign and leave New York with his family. In the nick of time, Dave arrives with good news.  Not only has Kathy decided to rent to him and his family her cottage, she will be living next door to ensure they are being treated with dignity by the neighbors. Upon hearing this news, Phil realizes he truly loves Kathy. The two reconcile – presumably to begin their romance anew.

In retrospect, the back story to Gentleman’s Agreement is actually far more fascinating than the finished film. After Zanuck’s rebuke from the country club, he was repeatedly discouraged ‘by friends’ to see this project through; warned that a movie about antisemitism might not get passed by the Hollywood censors, as Joseph Breen – the head of the board – was well-known to be an anti-Semite. There were also mild concerns McGuire’s Kathy being a divorcee on the make would sour popular opinion from the Catholic League of Decency, or that Anne Revere – already suspected by HUAC of harboring socialist views – would incur the wrath of that ever-mounting witch hunt in Washington, eager to derail the careers of suspected communists and communist sympathizers. Cary Grant, Zanuck’s first choice for the role of Phil Green, politely turned it down after his agent insisted that he refrain from the project. Gregory Peck’s agent encouraged a similar dismissal. But Peck firmly believed in the importance of the movie as a catalyst for social change and pressed on. In the end, the anticipated backlash from critics and audiences never materialized. In fact, Gentleman’s Agreement became a colossal smash, reaffirming Zanuck’s faith in producing popular mass entertainment with a social and moral conscience.  

There is good news and bad news regarding Fox’s Blu-ray. The bad news is that this is only a single layered transfer with a modest bit rate. I suspect Fox is using old digital files bumped to a 1080p signal. The good news is that for the most part the image is solid. Could it have looked better? Arguably, yes. The opening credits have a slight hint of thickness and inconsistently rendered grain. I also detected an ever so slight tint of chroma bleeding in the letters during the credit sequence. Not a promising start. But the image thereafter is mostly satisfying. Occasionally, the B&W elements looked slightly soft with a minimal loss of fine detail. Film grain is present, but inconsistently rendered. Age-related artifacts are present but do not distract. The audio is mono and adequate. Extras include an AMC Backstory episode, audio commentary and theatrical trailer are holdovers from Fox’s old DVD release. Gentleman’s Agreement does not look bad, but a new scan is in order. Bottom line: it’s not a great picture, nor a particularly wonderful Blu-ray. For Peck and Kazan completionists, mostly. Judge and buy accordingly.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

3

VIDEO/AUDIO

3

EXTRAS

2.5