THE GLENN MILLER STORY: Blu-ray (Universal-International, 1954) Shout! Factory

Director Anthony Mann and star, James Stewart reunite for The Glenn Miller Story (1954), something of an anomaly in both men’s careers, and a highly sanitized retelling of the famed bandleader’s rise to prominence. This picture falls right in the middle of a golden period in both artists’ respective careers; Stewart, bouncing from hit to hit via his alliance with Mann and Hitchcock, and Mann, experiencing his final flourish as an irrefutable rain maker for Universal-International. Throughout the late forties and early fifties, Hollywood vacillated in concocting alternate realities on celluloid for some of the 20^th century’s most beloved song and dance men. In Miller’s case, the struggle remained how to exalt a famous trombone player who rarely warbled a note. Mercifully, Mann’s homage to Miller sidestepped the pitfall of aiming for authentic recreation. After all, what would be the point? It had been only 11 years since Miller’s single-engine UC-64 Norseman, departing from RAF Twinwood Farm in Clapham, inexplicably vanished somewhere over the fog-ridden English Channel. And in James Stewart, Mann has, perhaps, the mirror-image of Miller to draw inspiration; Stewart, wearing Miller’s spectacles and toting Miller’s original trombone (both on loan from his widow, Helen – who authorized use of her husband’s likeness under an exclusive agreement, affording her unprecedented control over the movie’s final cut) is uncannily Miller-esque in the part. Stewart, a consummate pro, assimilates into the part, lending ballast and charm in tandem to this rather feather-weight depiction of the happy-go-lucky, above-board aspiring musical genius. And while Valentine Davies and Oscar Brodney’s screenplay manages to interject enough verisimilitude to aid Stewart in becoming his alter ego, it treads exceedingly light on Miller’s personal history.

Reunited for the second of three movies to co-star, June Allyson (the other two being Strategic Air Command, and, The Stratton Story), James Stewart took his responsibilities to become Miller-esque very seriously, even signing up for trombone lessons and, at least early on, hoping against hope to play the instrument for the pre-recordings. Alas, Stewart’s prowess with a trombone paled considerably to his acting chops. In the end, his instructor, Joe Yukl did the pre-recordings; Stewart, learning the proper fingering and hand-positioning to convincingly ape the music. Both Stewart and Allyson considered The Glenn Miller Story among their most fondly recalled work experiences. Indeed, mutual respect and satisfaction for the work itself shows up in the winning chemistry between Stewart’s pleasantly-determined Miller and Allyson’s effervescent – and occasionally teary-eyed - ever-devoted wife, Helen. Alas, a falling out between Stewart and Anthony Mann during production on the ill-fated Night Passage (1957) would result in a rift in their friendship. As this was never to heal, Stewart quietly expunged virtually all of his western collaborations with Mann from his personal recollections about Hollywood whenever he was interviewed thereafter.

The Glenn Miller Story is also noteworthy for a glaring omission: namely, the absence of sax player, Tex Beneke. An integral part of Miller’s band during its heyday, Beneke was first runner up to assume control of its’ future after Miller’s disappearance in 1944, even authorized by Miller’s widow and estate to carry on in his mentor’s tradition. Alas, Beneke had ideas to modernize Miller’s sound. This clashed with Helen Miller’s wishes and, as such, even Beneke’s greatest contributions to the band while Miller lived, including lead vocals on Chattanooga Choo-Choo as well as his distinctively sassy tenor sax sound were excluded from the movie. As The Glenn Miller Story is only expressly interested in chapters from Miller’s tapestry of life on which Universal-International can effectively hang a cavalcade of his best-remembered big band arrangements, we set aside Miller’s upbringing in Nebraska, and childhood moves from Missouri to Colorado. No adolescent flashbacks either – so we forget Miller was already quite an accomplished musician by the time he graduated high school. Also purged, Miller’s flop out of university to pursue his musical dreams full-time; landing a lucrative gig with Ben Pollack (who plays himself in the movie), but also working for Victor Young. The Davies/Brodney screenplay would have us believe the parting between Miller and Pollack in 1928 was mutual.  But actually, Miller was increasingly dissatisfied that his solos with Pollack’s orchestra were being cut. Moreover, Miller was after a distinct ‘sound’ and recognized his future lay in having complete control over his arrangements and compositions.

The Glenn Miller Story opens with a reoccurring ‘gag’; Miller, arriving at the pawn shop, overseen by the kindly Kranz (Sig Ruman) to get his beloved trombone out of hock yet again. Miller eyes an attractive string of faux pearls to buy his girlfriend, Helen, for which Kranz hints he might be persuaded to chip a cool twenty off its $100 price tag. Not yet, as Miller – barely able to afford the price of the trombone - is hurried by his cohort, Chummy (Henry Morgan) into a waiting jalopy, off to the Sunset Motel for tryouts with Mark Minton’s band. Too bad, Miller’s ambitions exceed his grasp. Minton quickly sends both Miller and Chummy packing, forcing Miller to return his trombone to Kranz’s pawn shop. Still, a ray of hope begins to glimmer when Kranz informs Miller and Chummy that Ben Pollack is holding open auditions at the pier-side stardust ballroom. The boys quickly rush off to seek their fame and fortune. Again, Miller tries to promote himself as ‘an arranger/composer’. As Pollack has no need, he casually dismisses Miller, but suggests he will have a look at his compositions later on. As Chummy has already landed the job of piano player, when Pollack asks a new clarinetist, Wilber Schwartz (Nino Tempo) to adlib something, Chummy instead hands the aspiring young man one of Miller’s compositions. Schwartz tears into the arrangement with gusto and Pollack, recognizing half the work derives from Miller’s composition, hurriedly sends Chummy after him. So, it seems Miller’s future is set…well, sort of.

Overjoyed, Miller telephones Helen Burger (June Allyson) to share his good news – also, to ask her out on a date. At first, barely remembering who Glenn is, Helen eventually relents to his request to see her again, breaking a previous engagement with her fiancée to accommodate him. Helen’s parents (James Bell and Katherine Warren) are not entirely certain their daughter is thinking clearly – even less so, when Miller fails to turn up at their home as previously promised, incurring Helen’s considerable disgust. Retiring for the night, Helen is awakened some hours later by an exuberant Miller who, ignoring the hour, shouts to stir Helen from her slumber. She is, at first, exasperated but quickly remembers why she fell in love with Glenn in the first place. The couple waxes affectionately about their plans for the future. Miller presents Helen with his gift of faux pearls – the charm of this moment briefly intruded upon by Mr. Burger toting his hunting rifle. No – it’s not what Glenn thinks. Mr. Burger is actually going hunting. The next afternoon, Helen drives Glenn out to the University of Colorado – presumably, their old alma mater. The pair overhears the glee club performing ‘Little Brown Jug’ – Helen’s favorite song that Miller simply cannot abide. Miller makes Helen a promise to return faithfully when he is able to support her. Once again, their romantic interlude is interrupted, this time by Chummy, eager to begin the next length of their tour with Pollack’s band in New York City.

However, once their engagement is over, Miller elects to remain in the Big Apple to seek his fortune as a composer/arranger. Chummy is saddened to see Glenn go. Pollack is merely disappointed in what he perceives as Miller’s shortsightedness. Nevertheless, Miller becomes acquainted with song promoter/agent, Don Haynes (Charles Drake), who assures Miller he will find him work in his field. This too is short-lived as Miller again finds himself on the outside looking in; piecing together whatever work he can find to keep body and soul together. Two uneventful years pass. But Haynes finally gets Miller interested playing in the pit for a hit Broadway show, Girl Crazy. Desperate for a steady gig, Miller telephones Helen to join him in Manhattan. Rather awkwardly, he proposes marriage and Helen, having previously delayed her engagement to another suitor over and over again, now decides to take the epic plunge into matrimony with Glenn; leaving behind a letter for her parents to discover. In the meantime, Glenn introduces Helen to his folks (Irving Bacon and Kathleen Lockhart). Hurriedly collecting Helen at Grand Central, Miller whisks her to the theater. Afterward, he takes her to the lavishly appointed suite; the newlyweds startled by an impromptu surprise party arranged by Haynes. No, not at the hotel, but a local, smoky jazz nightclub where Helen meets all of her husband’s friends and enjoys a bit of vamping with Louis Armstrong and his band.

Time passes. Glenn continues to work in the theater. But Helen realizes he is now playing music purely for money. Suggesting they leave their posh digs for a modestly appointed house instead, Helen encourages Miller to follow his dream. He wants to compose and she wholeheartedly supports him in this endeavor. Alas, the first composition Miller is able to sell to a nightclub, Moonlight Serenade, is transformed into a gaudy, garish mess with a sultry sexpot (Ruth Hampton) heavily crooning his lyric amidst a gaggle of scantily-clad showgirls. Disheartened by this latest bastardization of his music, Helen suggest to Glenn that the only way for him to achieve his goal is to start his own band. While Miller, Chummy and Haynes absolutely agree with this assessment, they also acknowledge this will take a lot of money - $1800 to be exact. Now, Helen plays her trump card, revealing to all, that while Glenn was playing his other gigs, she was quietly socking away a small fortune in a private bank account in his name to help him launch just such an enterprise. Getting together his musicians in a hurry, Glenn lands several inconsequential bookings, but still has not quite discovered ‘his sound’. Tragedy strikes in the form of a hellish snow storm. Breaking the axel on his car, Glenn encourages Helen and Chummy to go on ahead without him and let the manager of the club know of their delay.

Already pregnant, Helen falls ill and nearly dies. She miscarries and is told by doctors she will never be able to have children. Miller promises instead to adopt some. While convalescing in hospital, Helen is visited by Si Schribman (George Tobias), who previously rejected Miller’s request for an engagement at his ballroom. Now, desperate for talent or face certain foreclosure, Schribman offers Miller carte blanche to pursue his music his way. However, during rehearsals, Miller experiences yet another setback when his lead trumpet player severely cuts his lip, requiring stitches. Left without a soloist, Miller rapidly re-orchestrates the part for the clarinet instead. Now, he and his remaining musicians have their debut. It is a stroke of good fortune, as Miller has finally found ‘his sound’. Audiences are drawn to it almost immediately, and success – previously seeming so far out of reach, now comes swiftly to the band. Miller buys an ostentatious home and a string of real pearls to replace the pasties he previously gave Helen. As Helen has newly arrived with the second of their adopted children, Glenn has another surprise for his wife; an impromptu anniversary party with the band members, all of their friends and families in attendance. Miller and his orchestra receive offers from Hollywood and record several orchestral arrangements for big production numbers.

At the height of his popularity, Miller is drafted into the Armed Forces. Too old to serve, he is put in charge of the Military Band and quickly incurs the wrath of his superior, Col. Spaulding (Dayton Lummis), who sees Miller’s alterations to the military’s time-honored marches as nothing short of a complete bastardization. Mercifully, Spaulding’s superior, Gen. Arnold (Barton McClane) does not agree. In fact, he denotes a renewed vigor in these fighting men when they hear Miller’s band playing. Miller takes the opportunity to make the suggestion that if he might be given absolute freedom to pursue his own arrangements, he and his band might boost even greater morale overseas. Arnold concurs, and what follows is a whirlwind engagement in Britain, broadcasting live over the BBC and hosting outdoor concerts, staged near veterans’ hospitals or in an open airplane hangar, accompanied by Frances Langford and The Modernaires. As the Christmas holidays fast approach, Miller and his band are scheduled to perform another benefit in Paris immediately following its liberation. Glenn has already telephoned Helen to anticipate something extra special for this – their first Christmas apart. Tragically, Miller boards a single engine military escort plane in heavy fog. While Helen awaits the broadcast, Miller’s plane is lost somewhere over the English Channel. Deftly skirting the prerequisite maudlin phone call to alert Helen of Miller’s demise, director, Anthony Mann instead jumps ahead to the night of the Christmas concert; Miller’s band performing his re-orchestrated arrangement of ‘Little Brown Jug’ as she tearfully listens from the comfort of her living room with Chummy and Schribman at her side.

The Glenn Miller Story may not be an entirely accurate account of the life and times of its eponymous hero, but it ticks off all the right boxes, touching upon the necessary highlights of Miller’s keynote chapters, and, jam-packing its largely celebratory account with a slew of the band’s most easily identifiable and iconic offerings. Despite inferences to have traveled far and wide, the production never actually left California. For those slavishly devoted to screen authenticity, there are several major flubs (and a host of minor ones) scattered throughout this movie, including the depiction of Miller and his band playing a slightly re-orchestrated version of ‘Over the Rainbow’ – according the film’s timeline, nearly 2 years before the song was actually written. Also, having ‘String of Pearls’ – widely regarded for Bobby Hackett’s cornet solo, being played as a trumpet solo in the movie instead. So too, does Jay Morley Jr.’s costuming liberally crib from 1950s fashions, particularly June Allyson’s stunning wardrobe – despite the movie supposedly taking place in the late 1930’s to the mid-1940’s. Finally, certain aircraft models depicted herein were not actually flown during WWII, including the Boeing B-29 ‘Superfortress’ bomber, prominently on display during Frances Langford’s song. In reality, the B-29 was a ‘top secret’ prototype and would have been kept under wraps by the military.

Nevertheless, the charm of the piece is what holds The Glenn Miller Story together; the ebullient on-screen chemistry between James Stewart’s congenial showman and June Allyson’s bright-eyed and perennially optimistic gal on the side. If the screenplay never goes beyond archetypal cutouts, then the performances certainly work overtime under Anthony Mann’s guidance to achieve more critical depth to what first appeared on the page. We sincerely doff our hats to Mann – working in the pseudo-musical/biopic model - not his forte - and without much cajoling or assurances from Universal-International that the picture would become anything outside of a forgettable little programmer, hopefully to make back its production costs. All evidence to the contrary, when The Glenn Miller Story rang registers around the world and went on to earn a cool $7 million at the box office, making it one of the most popular movies of the year. Viewed today, the picture retains its ability to warm the heart – a tender drama, deifying Miller’s musical legacy by taking dead aim at a fictionalized portrait of the man of the hour and coming away unequivocally the winner on all accounts. Entertainment this good will always have a home.

Shout! Select’s release of The Glenn Miller Story on Blu-ray is a very mixed bag. The last movie to be shot on 3-strip Technicolor dye imbibition prints it has become highly susceptible to differential shrinkage, resulting in some ugly halos of color distorting William H. Daniel’s luminous cinematography. When the image does snap together, colors are richly saturated, albeit with flesh tones adopting a sort of lobster-ish tint; from ruddy orange/red to downright piggy pink. Worst of all is the Technicolor mis-registration. It’s intermittent. So, there are plenty of scenes that do not suffer from its egregious distortion. But when a scene does come along, it is the blue and yellow records that seem wildly out of whack, resulting in a bizarre lime green trace around everything to the left and right of center, overlapping and spilling over onto adjacent colors to create an exceptionally awful-looking image. The other noticeable distortion is in film grain. At times, it is fairly thick and gritty. At others, it nearly vanishes. Having owned The Glenn Miller Story on Universal’s tired old DVD, it appears as though absolutely nothing has been done in the interim to improve the overall quality: color correction, dirt and scratches clean-up, or even basic realignment to get this deep catalog classic ready for its hi-def debut.

Universal ought to be ashamed of this effort – or lack thereof. Oh…right…it’s Universal – the most shamefully backward and least proactive of the majors when it comes to film restoration today! Shout! can only work with elements it has been provided. So, no fault there. Shout! also gives us two audio options: DTS 2.0 and DTS 5.1. Naturally, the 5.1 sounds more robust during the orchestral arrangements. However, both tracks are very thin when it comes to dialogue and effects, adopting a tinny aspect not even vintage movies from the 1930’s possess. Extras are limited to an audio commentary from Jim Hemphill that is, frankly, disappointing – not because Hemphill lacks knowledge, but because he spends more than half his time discussing Anthony Mann and James Stewart’s careers outside of the making of this movie.  We also get the alternative 1985 reissue of the movie that is slightly shorter. Bottom line: I continue to be disappointed by studios’ shortsightedness in general, Uni’s in particular, regarding their extensive back catalogs, deserving far better than what is being offered herein. The Glenn Miller Story is a classic – period. It needs a ‘ground up’ restoration – badly!

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

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

2.5

EXTRAS

1