DRIFTWOOD: Blu-ray (Republic Pictures, 1947) Kino Lorber

The Hollywood of today bears no earthly resemblance to its fabled past; nor, with any degree of frequency, does it choose to acknowledge it except for the riches still occasionally to be mined from its byproduct (celluloid art), re-branded to home video. Studios fortunate enough to have survived the mid-seventies deluge, purge and plunder that transformed such hallowed archives into a glorified garage sale (or worse, merely junked the past to make room in their vaults for the then present), have since retained the status of their iconic logos (the Paramount ‘mountain’, MGM’s Leo The Lion, the Columbia ‘lady with the torch’, etc. et al). These trademarks continue to precede, in most cases, movies made independently by smaller production houses with funding from ‘the majors’ – now reduced to mere lenders/distributors of somebody else’s efforts, trading on their trademark for cache and credibility. For the most part, the history of Republic Pictures has been expunged from these public records. Republic was, in fact, the brain child of investor/producer, Herbert J. Yates; a conglomeration of six meager production houses (Monogram Pictures, Mascot Pictures, Liberty Pictures, Majestic Pictures, Chesterfield Pictures and Invincible Pictures), similar only in their collective status as ‘Poverty Row’.  Yates’ film laboratory, Consolidated Film Industries, was responsible for servicing virtually all of the majors during the 1930’s. But what Yates really wanted was to be a mogul. In 1935, he had his way. Amalgamating the aforementioned six under one banner, Republic would quickly establish itself as a collaborative enterprise where competently produced low budget programmers were made.

Monogram’s nationwide distribution system was effectively wed to Mascot’s first-rate production facility and Majestic’s ability to draw on big-name talent on loan out, along with renting sets to give a good many of their movies a more polished look. Republic culled its roster of employees from all six studios’, the merger also affording its pictures higher than usual budgets, directly equating to better films being made. The aegis was not without its hiccups. Monogram effectively separating from Republic in 1937 after producers, Trem Carr and W. Ray Johnston felt Yates had begun to exude far too much control over their efforts. Ultimately, Yates would systematically purge himself of his high-end partnerships, acquiring senior staff subservient to his edicts in lieu of peers eager to assert their own independence. There are many reasons why Republic never quite attained the kind of immortality Yates had initially hoped for; not the least, his obsession to transform Czechoslovakian ex-pat ice-skater, Vera Ralston (with whom he was having an affair, and, would later make his wife) into a major star, despite the public’s indifference to Ms. Ralston’s ‘charms’. But by 1958, the dream had ended – Yates, officially conceding defeat by announcing to his Board of Directors the end of the line for Republic Pictures.

Allan Dwan’s Driftwood (1947) falls into Republic’s vein of ‘hillbilly’ pictures; sincerely themed little stories of heartfelt struggle and survival, with a slant distinctly meant to appeal to rural enclaves, otherwise to have considered a good deal of movie-land’s more opulent product too gosh darn highfalutin for their simpler bucolic tastes.  Driftwood is, in fact, a great ‘little’ picture, cribbing from stellar ‘character’ actors usually relegated in support of bigger names elsewhere, but herein given a lot more to do, and proving (as though proof itself were required), they are more than capable at their craft. Ruth Warrick is curiously top billed as Susan Moore, despite having a lesser role than practically anyone else in the cast. Warrick, who would much later achieve ever-lasting fame on TV’s daytime soap, All My Children, never quite found her niche in the movies, even though she was prominently featured in such high-profile productions as Citizen Kane (1941) and Song of the South (1946). Others of merit herein include Walter Brennan, as lovably irascible small-town pharmacist, Murph’; Dean Jagger as Dr. Steve Webster, filmdom’s benevolent ‘every man’ on the cusp of a great discovery; leggy Charlotte Greenwood, as the spinsterish Aunt Mathilda, silent screen veteran, H.B. Warner (Rev. J. Hollingsworth) and Jerome Cowan, perennially to play the persnickety villain (herein, as Mayor Snyder).

Yet, it was nine-year old Natalie Wood who towered above these veterans. It behooves us to recall what a spark of brilliance Wood was on camera: a child-star, seemingly tinged by an uncanny wherewithal, effortlessly to make the transition to teen, and finally, adult roles with such startling effectiveness, Orson Welles once commented, “she’s so good she’s terrifying.” Joseph L. Mankiewicz, who directed Wood in The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (also released in 1947) was as blown away by her professionalism. “In all my years I never met a smarter moppet!”  Director, Sydney Pollack would later summarize Wood’s talent thus, “When she was right for the part there was nobody better. Just a damn good actress!” We can concur with all these assessments; Wood, the quintessence of wide-eyed innocence as pint-size Jenny Hollingsworth, a Bible-weened tot left to her own survival after her pastor/grandfather’s quiet death in an abandoned church located in the abandoned town of Bullfrog Springs. Jenny is left to wander the haunted desert by night (akin to the valley of the shadow of death), mistaking an airplane from the nearby flight academy, its engines on fire and about to crash, as B.L. Zebub. She discovers a kindred spirit in the collie having survived this crash that she rechristens as ‘Hollingsworth.’    

A short while later, country doctor Steve Webster discovers Jenny and Hollingsworth by the side of the road. Electing to drive her into the nearby community in which he resides, Steve attempts to unload Jenny on Sheriff Bolton (James Bell). Alas, there is no place for the girl; the orphanage, a considerable distance from this isolated community. So, Steve takes Jenny home, to the house he shares with Murph, the local pharmacist. Murph is a curmudgeon. But like most, his gruff exterior is mere façade. Before long, Murph warms to Jenny, giving her a bubble bath (the first she has ever known) and sharing stories about Steve’s girlfriend, Susan Moore and her spinster aunt, Mathilda. Predictably, these tales will come back to haunt Murph when Jenny naively questions their validity with the ladies, incurring Mathilda’s ire. Susan is willing to look after Jenny for a few days while Steve continues his research for a cure to Rocky Mountain spotted fever, experimenting with infected ticks on his back porch. Steve has always insisted their community is ill-prepared for an epidemic. But the Mayor makes light of Steve’s claims, labeling them as cheap paranoia to get the town council to vote on building him a hospital in which to continue his practice. Susan has been sweet on Steve as long as she can remember. And although he appears to harbor similar feelings, even expressing jealously when Mayor Snyder makes his benign plea to Sue for consideration as a suitor, Steve nevertheless resists even the thought of putting a ring on her finger until he can afford to wed and support her in style.

Susan is wary Steve will leave her for a research grant position he has applied for with the Field Institute in San Francisco. Overhearing this conversation, but understanding very little about it, Jenny nevertheless hides Steve’s acceptance letter in his desk drawer when it arrives. At the local soda fountain run by Essie Keenan (Margaret Hamilton) the Mayor’s bullying son, Lester (Teddy Infuhr) taunts Jenny in front of the other children; making fun of her clothes. The Mayor compounds Jenny’s humiliation by referring to her as ‘driftwood’; a moniker she knows not yet to be ashamed. Determined Jenny should hold her head up high, Steve picks out an entire wardrobe of for her at Judge Beckett’s (Hobart Cavanaugh) clothiers shop, offering free tonsillectomies for all three of his sons in trade. Once again, Lester terrorizes Jenny. Only this time, Hollingsworth comes to her defense, knocking the boy off his feet and pulling down his trousers. Ashamed by the incident, Lester claims he was bitten by a vicious dog, urging the Mayor to demand the animal be destroyed. When the sheriff comes for Hollingsworth, Jenny momentarily sets him free. Fatefully, she is bitten by one of Steve's experimental/infected ticks.

At the rigged trial, the judge rules Hollingsworth should be destroyed. But at the last possible moment, Murph is granted permission to examine Lester for bite marks.  When none are found, Lester’s lie is exposed and the dog’s life is spared. Meanwhile, nearby farmer, Clem Perkins' (Ray Teal) son, Blaine (Zeke Holland) contracts spotted fever and regrettably dies from it. In full panic mode, the whole town lines up on Steve’s front porch to get vaccinated. Jenny falls ill and Steve realizes there is not enough serum to inoculate everyone. Desperate to save Jenny, Steve is made aware that Hollingsworth was actually the dog that survived the plane crash; a lab animal whose blood seems immune to the effects of the fever. Alerting scientist, Dr. Nicholas Adams (Alan Napier) of his find, the two physicians put their heads together in a race against time. Adams instructs Steve how to create more serum from Hollingsworth’s blood. Upon recreating the formula, Steve injects Jenny with a dose and waits for its healing properties to take effect. Jenny’s recovery earns Steve a $5,000 grant to continue his research. At long last realizing his place, Steve elects to remain in town and marry Susan, the two likely to adopt Jenny as their own.

Driftwood is a delightful family film, exceedingly good-natured, despite being rather cloying at times and downright predictable at other intervals.  The screenplay by Mary Loos and Richard Sale is formulaic and, on occasion, heavy-handed in its premise of an innocent who knows her Scripture backwards and forwards, but has never seen a bubble bath. What the Hollywood of yore could do during its glory years with such a cast of players as these, devoted to giving such fundamentally flawed material their all. Driftwood excels mostly because its principle cast is culled from accomplished talents who understand both the complexities and subtleties of the story they are trying to tell. There’s no great groundswell of drama here; no overpowering cues of orchestral underscore to punctuate raw human emotions periodically exposed, in tandem, to tear-jerking and comedic effect. No, what comes across in spades is the gentleness of the piece, gingerly massaged under Allan Dwan’s skilled direction. Natalie Wood’s central performance is immaculate and genuine. She believes every word and we, in turn, discover deeper truths emerging from the depths of her empathy-emitting eyes and tender strains, leant to panged childhood longing for a better start in this world. Wood’s Jenny is the catalyst for much social change among these good citizens and she virtually carries the picture on the strength of her convictions.

I wish I could say the same for Kino Lorber’s Blu-ray release. As it is the season for wishes, I sincerely have two for this distributor and its affiliates. First, that Kino begin 2018 by making more aggressive demands from its partnerships to improve the overall quality of their hi-def releases, and second, that its affiliates see the light and step up to the plate, offering Kino better quality masters in tandem to their needs as one of the most prolific indie distributors in the home video biz these days. Quantity and quality do not go hand in glove and Kino’s spotty track record has veered from some absolutely gorgeous offerings to less than stellar ‘bargain bin’ releases (though hardly at a ‘bargain bin’ price point). It may sound like I am pissing on Kino needlessly. I get that. But realistically, we are no longer in the infancy of Blu-ray mastering. If a movie is decided worthy of a hi-def release it deserves the utmost consideration to achieve as good a quality as can be achieved, taking into account budgetary restrictions and also, more critical asset assessment of all surviving archival elements.

This Blu-ray of Driftwood is described by Kino as having been derived from a ‘brand new HD master from a 4K scan’. The rights to the picture reside with Paramount. We all know what sort of slap-dash track record ‘the mountain’ has had with regards to reissuing its deep catalog in hi-def. I mean, we are still waiting for a quality hi-def transfer for 1988’s Witness, and a first Blu-ray release of Paramount’s Roman Holiday (1953), and its Oscar-winning Best Pictures; The Greatest Show on Earth (1952) and Ordinary People (1980). So, you know…not exactly a progressive company. And, I certainly cannot imagine Driftwood as the sort of offering to recoup such an investment from a ground-up restoration effort. That said, this Blu-ray comes so ‘gosh darn’ very close to delivering the goods. This is why I am exceedingly frustrated by its shortcomings.

Having spent obvious coin to eradicate age-related artifacts and stabilize the image, it seems nothing was done to balance contrast levels that are so anemic the visuals appear as though they have been dipped in a milky bath. Badly faded is a better descriptor here; and curiously soft, lacking any sort of real clarity or definition, except in close-ups. It also appears as though some untoward DNR has been applied – not to egregious levels, but nevertheless, contributing to the overall homogenized ‘smooth’ look of this release. Film grain…where is it?!? The audio is, of course, DTS mono and adequately represented. We also get a fairly informative audio commentary from film historian, Jeremy Arnold. 

Again, I just wish those in charge of remastering classics to Blu-ray would pay just a bit more attention to the work being done. It really makes no sense to perform a costly 4K scan of a flawed element without the necessary tweaking to get it just right. I would not have expected Driftwood to receive a first 4K scan Blu-ray release. I have very little hope it will receive a second, derived from a contrast-corrected print master. So, likely this is the best this movie will ever look in hi-def. That’s a pity. Especially since it isn’t the best it can look! Regrets.

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

4.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

2.5

EXTRAS

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