THE BELLS OF ST. MARY'S: Blu-ray reissue (RKO/Rainbow Productions, 1945) Olive Signature
Sequels rarely live up to audiences’ expectations. Yet, this has never
stopped Hollywood from pursuing them. However, in the case of Leo McCarey's The
Bells of St. Mary’s (1945) a follow-up to his highly sentimentalized
Oscar-winner, Going My Way (1944) we are given that rarest of unicorns –
a sequel, arguably, better than the original, and, in hindsight, a treasure
trove in understated melodrama, topped with immeasurable warmth and sincerity –
and yes, a second opportunity to revel in that glowing portrait of Catholicism
a la Bing Crosby’s smooth-operating priest, Father O’Malley. Crosby was, and ostensibly,
will forever remain Hollywood’s most readily identifiable ‘face of
Christmas’ in perpetuity: the only actor - then or now - to be instantly
and fondly embraced as an integral part of our December 25th holiday. Crosby’s
portrait of piety in both Going My Way and The Bells of St. Mary’s
is deceptively humanistic; rife with frank, yet educational humor, and, Der
Bingle’s own preferred brand of laid-back congeniality. Again, this is only a
representation; as there have been several biographies to suggest Crosby - in
private - was not always the most forgiving family man. Yet herein, it is
the impression that counts. And art should always be judged apart from its
artist. If done correctly, art represents the elevated perfection of life’s
reflection for the world as we would wish it to be. An artist is merely the
flesh and blood tool by which such lofty aspirations are permitted their
momentary – if fundamentally naive – expression. Indeed, Crosby’s Father
O’Malley is the sort of spiritual adviser we would all wish for in our lives;
one unencumbered by a staunch adherence to the moral rigidity preached by the
church; clear-eyed and able to wangle his way through the catechisms, making
their time-honored teachings relevant to world-weary parishioners he so clearly
serves with dignity, decorum and an innate compassion for all human
fallibility.
So too must it be pointed out The Bells of St. Mary’s would be
nothing at all without Ingrid Bergman’s luminous Sister Superior. Bergman,
loaned out from her indentured contract to David O. Selznick, imbues her nun
with all the saintly fortitude a woman in her chosen profession ought to
possess. And yet, we are also treated to a very progressive abbess; one, not
above tempting or even defying convention – with charisma and kindness when
useful, but also employing stubbornness and vigor in her subtle exploitation of
feminine wiles - even a gloved fist - when propriety demands. The occasionally adversarial,
though mostly playful sparring between Bergman’s Sister Benedict and Crosby’s
Father O’Malley is really what keeps Dudley Nichols’ screenplay for The
Bells of St. Mary’s from sinking into gushy-gooey saccharine. Bergman was, and is, – of course – one of the
most incandescent stars to ever appear on camera; her presence, easily lent to
virtue; her stunning handsomeness unimpeded, even by a wimple. It is perhaps
unusual (teetering on sacrilege) to consider nuns as sexual creatures. Yet
Bergman manages more than a whiff of female desirability throughout this movie
while exuding an aura of godliness; no small feat and one of the most
infectiously appealing balancing acts. That Bergman was to disappoint her fans
by shattering this idyllic portrait with a very public scandal, affair and
finally marriage to (and divorce from) Italian neo-realist director, Roberto
Rossellini, in retrospect solidifies the two-headed coin of the realm she
occupied for movie fans; on the one side, sultry ex-patriot and former lover of
a cynical saloon keeper in Casablanca (1942), and, on the other, the
lost girl in a woman’s body, perhaps best typified by her ‘comeback’
performance in Anastasia (1956); the movie that re-introduced Bergman to
American audiences, washed away these past sins, and, won her the Best Actress
Academy Award besides.
Before continuing, it is prudent to place into context the great authority
the Catholic Legion of Decency (CLoD) once wielded in socio-political spheres
of then contemporary western civilization.
Founded in 1933 by the Archbishop of Cincinnati, John T. McNicholas,
CLoD was a direct response to a moral outcry made by apostolic delegate,
Archbishop Amleto Giovanni Cicognani, who squarely cited ‘the movies’ as
contributing to the degradation of the nation’s social fabric. Smart man, that
Cicognani. For he likely was on to something. Too often, today’s critics
underestimate the power of the visual image, particularly on impressionable
minds; its ability to make acceptable virtually anything told in a fashionable
way. From an artistic vantage, movies can, and readily do
normalize behaviors we might otherwise find repugnant or silly when witnessed
in the real world, remade as marginally tolerable to downright appealing. Only
in hindsight, do these visceral impressions on the big screen act as a sort of
template, creating an impression on popular culture that may thereafter be
entered into the record and become ‘mainstream’. Popular entertainment is
therefore more than a mirror of the current mainstream mindset. It effectively
– if gradually – breaks down barriers and inhibitions, reinventing social mores
and manners to suit, as well as reflect, a particular time and taste. As with
the church’s desire to control or dismantle the arts during Shakespeare’s time
– fearful of their influence on the masses – Archbishop McNicholas’
organization would pursue an aggressive campaign in conjunction with
Hollywood’s own self-governing body of screen censorship under Will Hayes and,
later, Joseph Breen; the two conjointly calling for ‘the purification of the
cinema’.
The dominance of the Catholic Church, as a cultural touchstone devoted
to the betterment for all throughout the 1940’s, added cache with the very real
threat the U.S. federal government might get involved in legislating morality –
if, the studios did not immediately take it under advisement to ‘clean up’
their own act. Virtually every studio in Hollywood complied. Thus, the racy ‘pre-code’
era gave way to several decades of improving the cultural mindset of moviegoers;
‘the cheap and the tawdry’ voted out, and replaced by righteousness in
self-sacrifice. In some ways, I would have this time again, as it spoke to a
more telescopic focus of humanity’s nobler pursuits. Alright: some of it was
oppressively heavy-handed, teetering on the brink of ridiculousness. And there
have been enough exposés since, regarding defrocked priests as sex abusers, to
illustrate not all who came to their calling were acting out of the purest
altruism. Yet, in the end ‘a moral’ prevailed. And, say what you will, but this
purveying message did not inspire random shootings inside movie theaters and
schoolyards. Today, it has become extremely fashionable to downplay and/or
downgrade such button-down conservatism as straight-jacketed bowdlerization.
How dare anyone impugn an artist’s self-expression?!? And, I would be among the
first to suggest not all art need be ‘pretty’ to be impactful. But at its core,
art in general, and cinema art in particular, ought to do a great deal more for
its audience than collectively assault and/or anesthetize them with its storm
of controversies and salaciousness. Let’s be honest. Today, even pornography
leans toward ‘art house and/or experimental cinema’: Lars ‘Nymphomaniac’
von Tier…are you listening? But I digress.
In retrospect, The Bells of St. Mary’s has proven to be a much
more enduring classic than its predecessor, perennially revived at Christmas
time. It was, in fact, RKO's big holiday offering for 1945, produced
independently by McCarey’s Rainbow Productions. The results could not have been
more perfectly timed. The in-joke around Hollywood during WWII, ironically put
forth by Bing Crosby, was, that in case of a bombing raid one should take cover
at RKO as they hadn’t had a ‘hit’ in years. However, The Bells of St. Mary’s
changed RKO’s fortunes for the better. In retrospect, ‘Bells’ is
the pluperfect example of the Hollywood melodrama; fairly dripping with
sentiment, veering dangerously close to the maudlin, yet without ever careening
over this precipice. At managed intervals, the picture both warms and breaks
our hearts, giving audiences the opportunity for the ‘good cry’ and
crowd-pleasing, broad good cheer. The
crux of the movie – that which makes it intimately ‘click’ on all levels - is
the ‘pertly romantic’ chemistry between its two stars. Broken down into its
parts, The Bells of St. Mary’s is rather episodic; Dudley Nichols’
screenplay, tripping lightly from vignette to vignette; the daily machinations
and struggles of a parochial school and parish on the verge of being closed down,
taking a backseat to the wry repartee and dialogue-charged fireworks between
Father O’Malley and Sister Benedict.
Both Crosby and Bergman are at the pinnacle of their respective careers.
Bergman, whose star had ascended meteorically, would see her fame abruptly
derailed by the exposure of the aforementioned extramarital affair. As for
Crosby; his Father O'Malley was so beloved by Academy voters, he was
Oscar-nominated again for playing the same role; the only time in Academy
history such an honor was bestowed. Incidentally, Crosby won his Best Actor
statuette for Going My Way, but lost it in this movie to Ray Milland’s
formidable portrait of a raging alcoholic in The Lost Weekend.
It is a curious thing to be able to compare Crosby’s O’Malley from both
movies, as they are subtly different. In Going My Way, Crosby’s cleric
is more reserved and appropriately sex-less; Crosby’s own personality,
preventing the character from becoming saintly antiseptic. However, in The
Bells of St. Mary’s, Crosby is decidedly more comfortable in cleric’s
collar; his cadence priestly; his demeanor, more favorably the ‘every man’
who just happens to know his Bible backwards and forwards. He sings - as Der
Bingle always did – in that rich, seemingly effortless baritone crooner’s style,
capable of transforming such time-honored carols as Adeste Fideles or
hymns like O’Sanctissima into pop standards, while warbling the less
memorable ‘Aren’t You Glad You’re You’ and ‘In The Land of Beginning
Again’ with lazy aplomb to make even their strained lyrics pleasurably
palpable. This leaves us with the film’s title song, a sumptuously romanticized
anthem to academics. Diffused of its stately grandeur by Crosby’s impromptu
add-on, “Won’t you ring dem bells?” it left Bergman and her costars in
that scene with a genuine chuckle.
Our story begins with the late arrival of Father Charles O'Malley
(Crosby) to St. Mary's rectory. He is auspiciously greeted by the housekeeper,
Mrs. Breen (Una O'Connor) and told in her atypically cryptic fashion how his
predecessor, Father Fogerty was driven into early retirement by the sisters in
charge of the parochial school. The next day, Father O'Malley meets Sister
Benedict (Ingrid Bergman); and although their initial encounter is a cordial
one, the two very quickly begin to differ on just about every point of interest
that involves St. Mary’s. In truth, the building is in a delicate state of
disrepair. Father O'Malley briefly entertains an offer from real estate
developer, Horace P. Bogartus (Henry Travers) to buy St. Mary's and demolish it
to make way for a parking lot that will benefit Bogartus' new corporate
offices, built adjacent the school’s property. Sister Benedict confides in
Father O'Malley she has been praying daily for Bogartus to wake up one morning
and find it in his heart to bequeath his building to the church - thereby
making it the new St. Mary's. This central plot point is fleshed out by several
intimate human-interest stories; the first involving new student, Patricia
'Patsy' Gallagher (Joan Caroll) who has been placed in O'Malley's trust by her
wayward mother, Mary (Martha Sleeper). Learning from Mary that Patsy's
estranged father is a musician, Father O'Malley sets about to locate and
reunite him with the daughter he has never known.
In the meantime, Mrs. Breen's son, Eddie (Dickie Tyler) loses a
schoolyard fight to bully, Tommy Smith (Bobby Frasco). In Sister Benedict's
eyes, Tommy has needlessly pummeled a fellow human being. Unfortunately, Father
O'Malley takes Tommy's side, declaring his admiration for any boy who can 'take
care' of himself. O'Malley tells Sister Benedict, “After all, on the outside
it’s a man’s world,” to which she glibly replies, “How are they doing,
Father?” Unable to convince O’Malley that men are made of kindness as well
as might, and perhaps suspecting he just might have a point, shortly
thereafter, Sister Benedict coaches Eddie in the finer points of pugilism, a
handsomely crafted bit of comedy that ends when Eddie accidentally strikes
Sister Benedict on the chin. A few days later, Eddie is prompted by Tommy into
a rematch. O’Malley, who is about to intervene, takes notice of Sister
Benedict’s nervous coaching from an open window as Eddie decisively wins the
fight. Realizing what Sister Benedict has done, O’Malley remains silent on the
matter. The boys reconcile and agree to be friends.
So far, The Bells of St. Mary’s has been beautifully crafted,
with sweeping narrative arcs to suggest a polite politics between its two
central protagonists. But from here on in, the narrative becomes increasingly
more episodic. We shift to Patsy's failing marks, as much a concern to Father
O'Malley as Sister Benedict. O'Malley reunites Patsy's mother with her now
middle-aged lover, Joe (William Gargan). Although it is obvious the two will
continue their relationship as husband and wife, thus giving Patsy the stable
home, she so desperately craves, the joy of this reunion is temporarily averted
when Patsy accidentally sees Joe leaving her mother's apartment. Assuming her
mother has taken up with a boyfriend in her absence, Patsy rushes into the
elevator to escape being seen, only to have Joe join her on the flight down to
ground level. This scene is heartrending as Joe attempts an awkward
conversation with his own child whom he does not recognize as such.
Patsy returns to St. Mary's forlorn. Her grades plummet and she
deliberately fail her final exams in order to remain behind with Sister
Benedict whom she now regards as her one true friend. However, unbeknownst to Patsy, Sister
Benedict has fallen ill with tuberculosis. In a moment so unbearably designed
to extract tears from a stone, Patsy confides in Sister Benedict; that she
failed her examinations on purpose, declaring with panged adolescence a fervent
desire to become a nun. Seeing, but moreover understanding, the sincere depth
of Patsy’s extreme loneliness for the first time, Sister Benedict decides to
overlook her grades – something she earlier told Father O’Malley she would not
consider. “You don’t become a nun because you’ve lost something,” Sister
Benedict confides to Patsy, “It’s because you’ve found something.” In
the meantime, Dr. McKay (Rhys Williams) encourages Father O'Malley to keep the
severity of Sister Benedict’s condition from her in order to help her maintain
a positive attitude.
Reluctantly, Father O'Malley agrees, writing Mother General for Sister
Benedict's reassignment to an infirmary in Arizona where her condition may
improve. On graduation day, Patsy is tearfully reunited with Joe and told he is
her real father. Afterward, Sister Benedict learns of her reassignment, not to
another school as she might have hoped, but to a convalescence home far removed
from the rest of society. Assuming Father O'Malley has merely been spiteful in
his plotting to rid St. Mary's of her constant interventions, Sister Benedict
harbors a strong resentment toward him as she packs her bags. Horace bequeaths
his building to the church for the new St. Mary's while Sister Benedict retires
to the old chapel to pray for God to remove all bitterness from her heart.
Sensing how detrimental withholding the truth from her has been, at the last
possible moment, Father O'Malley has a change of heart. He confides in Sister
Benedict the real reason for her reassignment. Her burdens, doubts and
resentments lifted; Sister Benedict realizes Father O'Malley has been her
sincere friend all along. She bids him and St. Mary's a fond goodbye, her faith
in humanity restored.
The Bells of St. Mary's is un-apologetically a pro-Catholic propaganda piece.
Yet, it never becomes preachy in this endeavor, very deftly handled by McCarey’s
usual light touch and inspired interjection of humor. Crosby’s Father O'Malley
is a priest of the highest virtues. But he is not above the very human
enterprise of telling ‘little white lies’ when necessary. And there is
something rather insidiously perverse about the way his Father O’Malley and
Sister Benedict systematically wear down Bogartus with their daily hymnals;
O’Malley, arriving at a particularly fragile moment (Horace on the verge of a
nervous breakdown as a result of their angelic badgering), only to thoroughly
push him over the edge with a few majestic bars of ‘O Santissima’. This
scene generally elicits laughter, as there is something genuinely comical about
O'Malley's disregard for Horace's sanity - his interests realigned with Sister
Benedict's nagging vision quest to relieve Horace of his building. McCarey's
gentle touch is never too far behind the ultra-sugary sweetness that skillfully
avoids becoming heavy treacle. In the final analysis, The Bells of St.
Mary’s remains a classic because the performances in it are just very good;
beloved and beguiling – but mostly, and like a lasso – able to hug and hold
onto our hearts.
Olive Media’s Blu-ray of The Bells of St. Mary’s from 2011 left a
good deal to be desired; fraught with egregious edge enhancement and boosted
contrast that blew out the mid-register in its grey scale – a very sloppy
effort indeed. Worse, the opening RKO logo had been lopped off, and the main
title, bearing a personal thanks to producer, David O. Selznick for his loan
out of Ingrid Bergman, marred by a superimposed grey block, sloppily baked into
the image. Well, prepare to celebrate this beloved classic as it should be seen.
Because Olive’s new 1080p release is cribbing from the identical 4K digital
restoration afforded Arrow’s Blu-ray release in the U.K. with restored image
and sound, courtesy of Paramount – the current custodians. So, how does this re-issue fare? Exquisitely.
For starters, the RKO logo is back where it belongs, and the Selznick credit is
intact. The mid-range of the gray scale is restored with a velvety sheen and no
untoward digital tinkering to create edge effects or halos that were present
before. Image stabilization too has been applied. What’s here is rock solid and
gorgeous. Better still, Paramount has gone the extra mile with digital
clean-up. Errant specks of dirt, dust and the like are gone. Contrast is
excellent, and there is a light smattering of film grain looking very indigenous
to its source. The DTS 2.0 mono (‘Bell’s’ won an Oscar for its
sound recording in 1945) is vibrantly reproduced. Bing’s songs sound especially
rich, as does the orchestral underscore.
Best of all: Olive has seen fit to pack this reissue with lots of
goodies: for kick-starters, an audio commentary by Crosby biographer, Gary Giddins
that is comprehensive and engaging. Sister Rose Pacatte delves into Faith
and Film – a nearly 20-min. critical essay on the picture’s handling of
faith-based issues. Another 20-minutes with historian, Steve Massa, explores
the vibrant career of Leo McCarey. Last of the new extras: barely 8-minutes with
Emily Carman, critiquing the picture as a ‘sequel’ to 1944’s Oscar-winning, Going
My Way. Add to this, two independently produced radio adaptations from
1946 and 1947, plus Abbey Bender’s analysis of the movie, and a handsome
booklet of production stills and…well…it’s definitely time to retire your old
Blu-ray and snatch this one up. Bottom
line: The Bells of St. Mary’s remains a heartwarming holiday classic. At
long last, it has been given its due in hi-def. Buy today. Treasure forever!
Very highly recommended!
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
5+
VIDEO/AUDIO
5
EXTRAS
4.5
Comments