IN THE GOOD OLD SUMMERTIME: Blu-ray (MGM, 1949) Warner Archive

Judy Garland was fast approaching the end of her MGM tenure when she agreed to star in Norman Z. Leonard’s In the Good Old Summertime (1949), one of the prestige pics to mark the studio’s 25th anniversary in production. A remake already twice removed from its source material, Miklós László’s 1937 play, Parfumerie, and previously immortalized as 1940’s uber-classic dramedy, The Shop Around the Corner, the re-conception as a musical comedy with Grade ‘A’ trappings built around the likes of Metro’s #1 musical/comedy star, Garland was once more suffering from demons that had haunted throughout most of her career. Dieted down to an anemic 120 lbs. and looking easily 10 lbs. lighter than that, Garland sojourned on with the making of this movie, physically frail and emotionally fragile. Despite the tenderness shown to her by director, Leonard, and co-star, Van Johnson, Garland’s nerves were at a frazzle throughout the making of this movie. Decades later, Johnson would reflect that Garland’s professionalism was constantly at odds with whatever darkness pervaded her lack of confidence in herself. Only a year earlier, while shooting the lavishly appointed The Pirate (1948) for her husband, director, Vincente Minnelli, Garland had suffered a hellish nervous breakdown and had to be placed in a sanatorium after attempting suicide by slitting her wrists. 

Alas, The Pirate was not a box office success, partly due to the many delays encountered by Garland’s frequent absences from the set. In the wake of all this backstage drama, Garland fans were treated to one of her most light-hearted romps, opposite Fred Astaire in Easter Parade (1948) – the studio’s top-grossing movie of that year. However, making that movie had tested Astaire’s resolve. Metro, however, saw the potential for another dynamo co-starring Astaire and Garland, and almost immediately, plans were set into motion for The Barkleys of Broadway. But Garland, now chronically hooked on studio-sanctioned barbiturate sleeping pills and illicitly obtained uppers to keep her going, had added alcohol to her self-medicating regiment. Her behavior became even more erratic, leaving producer, Arthur Freed with the heavy-hearted decision to remove her from the project. Yet this reprieve, that might have allowed Garland the necessary time to recover and bounce back yet again, was all too brief and inconsequential. Garland was instead fitted in as a specialty act, playing herself in the Rodgers and Hart biopic, Words and Music (1948), and then, almost immediately cast as a replacement for a very pregnant, June Allyson for In the Good Old Summertime. Ironically, Garland kept most of her crippling anxieties to herself during the making of this movie, determined to make a success of it no matter the costs. Her resilience paid off when the picture came in 5 days ahead of schedule, and, with very few ‘incidents’ to sour cast and crew on her participation. Indeed, when producer, Joseph Pasternak realized he needed a little girl to play the daughter of Garland and Johnson in the final scene, she even suggested the debut of her own daughter, 3-yr.-old Liza. Aside: despite later becoming a star in her own right, Liza here looks about as comfortable in front of the camera as a frightened goat staring down the barrel of a hunter’s rifle.

In The Good Old Summertime is not exactly a top-tier Judy Garland vehicle, despite possessing the pedigree and production values of one of MGM’s costliest movie musicals to date. In The Shop Around the Corner, co-stars, James Stewart and Margaret Sullivan had played to Sullivan’s quaintly delicious ‘wallflower’ quality, which drew much empathy for her character, even when her Klara Novak and Stewart’s head clerk, Alfred Kralik were at each other’s throats, rendering the comedy pert and plucky, but with a softcore center of obvious and genuine romance sparking off the couple. Regrettably, no such tangible chemistry persists between Garland’s go-getter, Americanized as Veronica Fisher and Johnson’s often caustic and rather unappealing, Andrew Larkin. It’s the tartness between these two that one remembers most, well concealed in MGM’s publicity department poster art, presenting the pair blissfully smiling on a swing built for two, for which no corresponding moment in the actual movie exists. But much worse for the absence is the desperately needed dollops of tenderness. When Garland sings ‘Meet Me Tonight in Dreamland’ or ‘Merry Christmas’ (the latter, a rather shameless attempt to rekindle the magic of ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ – the contempo Christmas carol Garland introduced in 1944’s Meet Me in St. Louis), she exudes a warmth, the rest of her performance utterly lacks. And Garland’s showstopper, ‘I Don’t Care’ is a real tour de force. She really does sing the hell out of it. But impressive numbers alone do not a great movie musical make. And there are just not enough songs in the picture to promote it as a full-fledged musical offering.  The title song is heard only as a choral arrangement to bookend the year in which Veronica and Andrew fall in love. The only other number in the movie is ‘Play That Barber Shop Chord’ – with Garland intervening in a male quartet during Mr. Oberkugen’s annual Christmas party. It’s a campy song at best, and played to the hilt by Garland doing nine-minutes of pure Vaudeville.

For the rest, Samson Raphaelson (who had also cowritten ‘Shop’ with Ben Hecht), along with Albert Hackett, Frances Goodrich and Ivan Tors’ (with an uncredited assist from Buster Keaton) screenplay stayed pretty close to its source material. And this too, in hindsight might be part of the problem. Unlike other musical adaptations MGM made from their past comedy hits throughout the late 1940’s into the 1950’s, ‘Shop’ did not necessarily lend itself ideally to the upgrade. So, the songs are not integral to the plot, but instead serve as mere interruptions to the actual story or, put another way, pure filler to pad out the run time. Also gone from this reboot, the undercurrent of possible infidelity between the boss’ wife and one of the clerks working at the store. Instead, the entire plot here is weighted on the romantic sparing of Veronica and Andrew. Regrettably, until the penultimate scene, this proves about as successful as the mating of a turtle and giraffe. In The Good Old Summertime opens with Andrew and Veronica’s not so cute meet just outside the post office. He literally – and unintentionally – sweeps her off her feet, knocking her flat on her keister before decimating her decorative hat, and then, incredulously driving off with her torn dress attached to the bumper of his bicycle. The reason for Andrew’s twitterpated oblivion is love. He has been corresponding with a woman from afar, reading her romantic overtures and reciprocating in kind.

These letters are shared at work with Andrew’s most-trusted coworker, Hickey (Buster Keaton), who also happens to be Mr. Oberkugen’s (S.Z. Sakall) nephew. The easily flustered Oberkugen is smitten with Nellie Burke (Spring Byington), the great winter romance of his life. And despite appearing stern on the outside, Oberkugen really is a beloved pussycat who is repeatedly dismayed by Andrew’s lack of enthusiasm in his decision-making plans for the store. At present, this includes the purchase of a consignment of golden harps which Andrew firmly believes will not sell at their music shop. All evidence to the contrary with the arrival of Veronica Fisher. Recognizing her immediately from their earlier fiasco, Andrew makes every attempt to deny Veronica her inquiry of procuring suitable employment. But then, she takes her seat in the middle of the showroom and begins to pluck at the harp, ingratiating herself to Mr. Oberkugen. Better still, her melodic song helps sell the very first – and regrettably, last harp to a curious customer caught in her musical crossfire. Andrew is dismissive about this early flush of success and cautions his employer about putting too much faith in Veronica’s sale’s skills. But Oberkugen sees this as professional jealousy and elects to hire her anyway. From the outset, Veronica and Andrew mix like oil and water. In fact, as time wears on and Andrew’s resolve becomes more entrenched, Veronica delights in creating situations to try his patience.

Hickey eventually learns that the woman for whom his best friend has fallen in love through her letters, and Veronica Fisher are one in the same. Sharing this information with Andrew, he is, at first, disillusioned, then angry, but finally comes to the realization that Miss Fisher is the only girl for him. She, however, is kept in the dark about the identity of the man on the other end of her letter-writing. Instead, Andrew pretends to have met the man in question, describing him in nauseating physical details as an over-the-hill sponge, suggesting to Veronica she has been corresponding with an uncouth garden gnome instead of her actual soul mate all of this time. Meanwhile, Andrew has a friend of his own, an aspiring violinist, Louise Parkson (Marcia Van Dyke) whom he has groomed for a recital with the symphony. Louise is smitten with Andrew but recognizes he does not even know she is alive outside of his affinity for her violin playing. Andrew absconds with Mr. Oberkugen’s prized Stratovarius on the eve of the staff’s Christmas party so Louise can attend the audition in style. When Oberkugen demands to know the whereabouts of his prized instrument, which he is only able to play very badly, Hickey feigns falling flat on Louise’s violin instead, crushing it beneath the weight of his body. But when Oberkugen discovers the ruse, he demands to have his own instrument restored to him immediately.

To this end, Andrew takes Oberkugen to the recitals where he listens intensely as Louise wows the judges and greatly impresses him as well. Recognizing the sheer waste in his ownership of such a prized musical instrument he cannot play well, Oberkugen bequeaths it to Louise after her audition, absolving Andrew of all responsibility for having temporarily borrowed it in the first place. As Christmas eve draws near, Oberkugen orders his staff to conduct a full inventory of the store – a frightful demand as Veronica had planned to meet the man of her dreams precisely that evening. Nellie, who is aware Oberkugen is sabotaging Veronica’s changes to find happiness once and for all, confronts Oberkugen, who has suspected she is sweet on another man. Nellie instead confides, she has loved no one else all these years but him. Heart-sore at not having received any further letters from her beloved, Veronica views this last opportunity to have met the man of her presumed dreams as a lost hope. She will remain a spinster, it seems, forever. Seeing the depths of her sorrow, Andrew decides to dispense with his charade. Reciting a few lines from his last correspondence to Veronica in precisely the same words only she would know by heart, Veronica suddenly realizes Andrew is the man closest to her heart. The couple embrace and the scene dissolves, presumably to the next summer, as Andrew and Veronica arrive together, strolling through the park with their young daughter in tow.

In The Good Old Summertime was a sizable smash for MGM, confirming that whatever Garland’s behind-the-scenes struggles to get any movie made, the cost of her suffrage was well worth the time and effort poured into these movie musicals in the end. Regrettably, Garland was at her breaking point. After dropping even more weight and arriving to the set of Annie Get Your Gun perpetually late and wraith-thin, with nerves unraveling by the moment, the executive decision was made to take Garland out of circulation. She would be back at the grind in less than six months, costarring for the last time with Gene Kelly in Summer Stock (1950) her swan song for MGM. Despite the cache of her supporting players, In the Good Old Summertime is really a one-woman show with the girth of responsibilities to see it through resting squarely on Garland’s slender shoulders. She bears the brunt well, but isn’t given ample opportunities to shine as she otherwise might have. The vintage turn-of-the-century trappings – billed as Chicago here - are, in fact, a somewhat painful reminder of Minnelli’s glorious St. Louis bric-a-brac Victoriana. The picture just feels like a sad-eyed stab to reboot a memory or, at least, carry parts of it over with Garland, now, having moved on from playing the teenager in love, to a sort of prematurely aged twenty-something on the cusp of spinsterhood.

While Harry Stradling Sr.’s cinematography is exceedingly complimentary to Garland’s attempts at glamor, some of Irene Shariff’s costuming is decidedly not, particularly the drab brown ensemble Veronica wears for her supposed first encounter with the man of her dreams, who ‘presumably’ never materializes at the restaurant for their pre-arranged rendezvous.  Again, the poster art puts Garland in a gay pinkish gown with her heels kicking upwards to the sky – an outfit never to materialize in the movie. Her most flattering ensemble is a red ballgown with plunging neckline (a concession for which the turn-of-the-century would never have approved) Veronica wears at Mr. Oberkugen’s Christmas gala, and featured prominently in two of Garland’s best numbers thereafter. Garland is a knockout here, shedding her otherwise bookish façade for a badly needed splash of glamor.  And the white dress, complete with oversized bonnet and parasol she sports for the thirty-second final shot in the movie is wholly impressive. But otherwise, she looks rather uncomfortable in these vintage duds. And then, there is Van Johnson looking rather straight-jacketed in his Victoriana buttoned up collars and cuffs, wearing an assortment of straw hats. These accoutrements are meant to suggest a dapper demeanor he otherwise wholly lacks. Indeed, Johnson’s Andrew Larkin is far better suited in temperament to Louise than Veronica. The scenes between Johnson and Van Dyke snap with an ill-fated vitality that the moments of supposed amour between Johnson and Garland wholly lack. In the end, In the Good Old Summertime is a movie that somehow misses its mark as a memorable Metro musical with panache plus. All of the elements are here. But the results fail to gel as they should. As a matter of record, the same plot was recycled yet again, updated for the internet age and 1998’s You’ve Got Mail – the most lethally boring of the three movie incarnations.

In The Good Old Summertime arrives on Blu-ray via the Warner Archive and, like everything WAC touches, the results here go well beyond mere pleasing. Indeed, the movie has never looked this good on home video. Colors blister across the screen with gorgeous Technicolor saturation levels that are always on point and positively sumptuous. The image is razor-sharp, spots superb contrast, and exquisite amounts of fine detail, popping as it should. The sets, culled from every possible free-standing backdrop in the studio’s arsenal of vintage Victoriana, and slightly redressed by Randall Duell and Edwin B. Willis, are revealed with startling clarity.  Harry Stradling’s cinematography sparkles as it ought. There are no instances of Technicolor mis-registration. The image is rock solid from beginning to end. Very well done indeed. The 2.0 DTS mono audio has been exported with loving care. Garland’s songs are the winner here, with dialogue sounding appropriately flat by comparison.  A singular regret. Garland recorded a number, ‘Last Night When We Were Young’ that was cut before the movie’s debut to keep within Metro’s desired run time for all of their movie musicals. The song was included as part of the outtakes, but has, alas, not resurfaced on this Blu-ray as an extra. We do get a theatrical trailer, but that’s about all. Barring this oversight, In the Good Old Summertime runs into solid consideration for Garland fans as well as lovers of the Hollywood musical at its zenith. This isn’t one of Metro’s very best, folks, but it definitely ranks among MGM’s solid second-tier efforts, which pretty much eclipse all of the other studios’ similarly themed efforts besides. The Blu-ray offers absolute video perfection. Highly recommended!

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

3

VIDEO/AUDIO

5+

EXTRAS

1 

Comments

Travisman said…
Nick first you review Thoroughly Modern Millie, a film I was longing to see on Blu-ray. If that wasn’t enough, you pick this movie. Another I’ve been waiting for-the last of Judy’s starring Technicolor films to get a Blu-ray release. Back to back. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. Always loved this movie during the holidays. Yes, it is second tier MGM, but I think it contains one of Judy’s funniest performances. Her merciless goading of Van Johnson is hysterical, as well as her using musical instruments as descriptives of his personality. Clever stuff. I like the way she looks in this. In her prior 3 film appearances she looked too wan and thin in some shots. Her weight fluctuates in Easter Parade, and in Words and Music she starts out slender in her first number then magically gains 20 pounds for her second. Here I think she looked remarkably sturdier here. Not too thin, not too heavy. She was a knockout in that red dress, as you have so correctly pointed out. If the studio had just given her a chance to recover and get well, maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe there would’ve been Barkley’s of Broadway, Annie Get Your Gun and Royal Wedding with her. Mayer and his cohorts was too busy laughing all the way to the bank, courtesy of cash cow Judy Garland, to care enough. Oh well. At least we have movies like Summertime to remind us all of the marvelous legacy she left behind. There will never be another like her. A while black I requested that you consider reviewing this film and you did. Thank you Nick.