CHRISTMAS IN JULY: Blu-ray (Paramount, 1940) Kino Lorber
“If you can’t sleep at night, it isn’t the coffee – it’s the bunk.” Or so Preston
Sturges’ deceptively titled, Christmas in July (1940) would have us
believe. If you still cannot figure out why a movie, having absolutely nothing
to do with that December 25th holiday is titled as such, and even
contains a refrain of the secular carol, Jingle Bells, as well as artistically
rendered depictions of snow and decorated trees in its main title, you are not
alone. Sturges, whose writing/directing style could best be summarized as
taking the conventions of the screwball comedy to its clear-eyed, oft’
surprisingly naturalistic heights, employing farcical situations to a achieve a
sort of queerly unsettling - if affecting - verisimilitude, mostly hits the
bull's eye with this modest charmer. The picture stars Dick Powell and Ellen Drew
(in roles initially slated for William Holden and Betty Field) as a light-hearted
young couple, pie-eyed in their blind optimism and, rather transparently, ‘in
love’ with being in love. Powell and Ellen are an amiable pair – he, an
easily excitable ball of energy, and she, the grounding force with a perpetually
beaming smile, clinging to his arm - and every word - as all second-string
dutiful ‘good girls’ of this vintage and ilk usually did in support of their
menfolk. Ah me, how the cork in that sexual politics has since turned. Christmas
in July is loosely based on Sturges’ own un-produced stagecraft, ‘A Cup
of Coffee’, heavily rewritten by Sturges for the movie. Interestingly, A
Cup of Coffee would remain unknown to the world until 1988, when the New
York Theater Company staged a production, 29-years after Sturges’ passing.
The Chicagoan-born Struges’ childhood could be described as anything but
conventional. Sturges’ mother, Mary D’Este, ditched his father while Preston
was a baby and courted the artistic hoi poloi, including the controversial dancer,
Isadora Duncan with whom it is rumored Mary had a lesbian affair. Young Preston’s
youth was divided between Europe and America. Indeed, he considered France his ‘second
home’. Stints in the army, and working
for his mother’s cosmetic company eventually led Sturges to pursue a career on
Broadway. But Sturges preferred writing to acting and proved he had what it
took to succeed. His second play, Strictly Dishonorable, is reported to
have been written in just 6 days. It ran on Broadway for 16 months and attracted
interest from the film community. But in Hollywood, Sturges was to discover his
talents undervalued – as film was very much a director’s medium. Nevertheless,
Sturges was to shock members of his profession and the industry when his
screenplay for The Power and the Glory (1933) was accepted outright by
producer, Jesse Lasky. “In those days, writers worked in teams,” Sturges
later recalled, “…like piano movers. And my first solo script was considered
a distinct menace to the profession.” Somehow, this early flourish did not
translate into greater success; Sturges, relegated to the heap and auspices of ‘the
system’, hired to polish and write, but never to exclusively take credit
for either. By 1939, he had had enough, bargaining with Paramount to direct The
Great McGinty from his own original screenplay – basically for free. The picture’s runaway success meant Preston
Sturges could write his own ticket. At the time, Sturges was elated, expressing
in an interview that “It's taken me eight years to reach what I wanted. But
now, if I don't run out of ideas – and I won't – we'll have some fun. There are
some wonderful pictures to be made, and God willing, I will make some of them.”
Christmas in July isn’t exactly top-tier Preston Sturges, though it
decidedly possesses a thinly amusing charm as well as the hallmarks of his
inimitable sass and disdain for authority. In more recent times, Sturges’
comedies have been referenced as parodies, devoted to debunking political,
sexual and advertising mores, with Sturges’ squarely situated as ‘the lowbrow
aristocrat’, peddling a ‘wish-fulfillment’ mythology; that any enterprising lad
or lass can achieve their dreams with a delicate balance of chance, fakery and sham.
Perhaps it was Sturges’ intercontinental upbringing that helped to inform the
oft outlandish unmelodiousness spoken by his characters, who generally fracture
the American patois, fittingly articulated with a casual, but decidedly very
European noblesse oblige, if, with as much total disregard for its oft indecent
triviality. In a Preston Sturges’ comedy, falsehoods, misconduct, and social discomfiture
benefit the hero; perhaps, a reflection of Sturges’ own agitated pique and fortitude,
and his stubborn resolve to disrupt society’s stuffy and systemized rules of engagement.
What simply ‘isn’t done’ in polite society is always done in a Preston
Struges’ comedy. And certainly, Christmas in July’s gift-giving hero,
Jimmy MacDonald (Dick Powell, playing it right down the middle with holly in
his heart) is a man who thinks ‘outside the box’. His rather idiotic
campaign slogan for Maxford House Coffee kicks off a powder keg of controversy when
three of his cohorts elect to send him a bogus telegram, informing that, in
fact, he has won the contest and will shortly be awarded $25,000 in prize
money.
Regrettably, Jimmy’s elation snowballs into a series of joyous misfires.
His boss, Mr. Waterbury (Harry Hayden) goes to bat for him, after his riotous
cheers attract the unwanted attentions of the president of the company, Mr.
Baxter (Ernest Truex) – who fires Jimmy on the spot; then, rehires him to
concoct an even better slogan for their rival coffee brand. Jimmy’s impromptu
declaration – ‘it’s bred in the bean’ convinces Baxter that Jimmy has
what it takes to be an ad exec. He is awarded a private office and his own
secretary; his fiancée, Betty. Next stop, Maxford Coffee, where Jimmy’s impromptu
arrival startles company president, Mr. Maxford (Raymond Walburn), who
rightfully deduces his team of arbitrators have yet to elect a winner. Alas,
unable to reach the jury’s foreman, Mr. Bildocker (William Demarest) by
telephone, Maxford takes the telegram Jimmy shows him at face value and thinks
Bildocker has jumped the gun and awarded the cash prize without his consent. To
save face, Maxford issues Jimmy the check, then spends the latter half of the
picture trying to figure out what went wrong in the jury selection process.
Meanwhile, arriving at Shindel’s Department Store, Jimmy buys his mother an ‘automatic’
sofa that converts into a bed and even airs itself out in a self-cleaning mode.
The store’s president, Mr. Shindel (Alexander Carr) is only too happy to
endorse Jimmy’s check – especially after Maxford confirms its legitimacy.
Now, Jimmy deduces that to spend $25,000 on himself is obscene. So,
instead he goes on a binge shopping spree, buying presents for everyone who
lives in the tenements where he and his mother reside. Shindel has his staffers
load a convoy of five taxis on route to the lower east side; Jimmy’s mama
(Georgia Caine), initially suspicious of her son’s profligate goodwill, quickly
falling under its contagious spell. Alas, by now Maxford has discovered his
jury is still deadlocked. Abruptly, he cancels the check, inciting Shindel to make
hot pursuit after Jimmy, followed by Maxford and the police. But by then, the
damage is done – the packages administered to the entire neighborhood, who are
rejoicing in their good fortune with a block party in Jimmy’s honor. As Maxford
attempts to have Jimmy arrested, he is pelted by raw tomatoes from the crowd.
Suspecting the ruse is all his to blame, Shindel denounces Maxford and promises
to sue him – not Jimmy – who he considers innocent of these charges of fraud. Thoroughly
disillusioned over having ‘not’ won the contest, Jimmy, accompanied by Betty,
returns to work to inform his boss of the mistake. Baxter is deeply distressed
by Jimmy’s confession but elects to go on with his promotion anyway – mostly,
to save his own face, while also promising to keep a watchful eye on Jimmy’s
progress. Jimmy and Betty embrace. As fate would have it, Bildocker emerges sweaty
and haggard from the jury room to declare he is finally ready to announce the
real winner of the contest – none other than Jimmy MacDonald; thereby ensuring this
lovable chaos will begin all over again.
Christmas in July is quaintly charming – even, mildly inspired. Sturges’
verve for extreme irony comes full circle mere seconds before the final fade
out. Apart from writing and directing this manic movie, Sturges also invented
the blueprints for the prototype convertible sofa and appears in a silent
cameo, as one of many, nervously awaiting the radio results of the Maxford
Coffee slogan-writing contest. Not as widely regarded as some of Sturges’ other
masterworks, Christmas in July has nevertheless endured. It oft gets
played during seasonal celebrations even though the word ‘Christmas’ in
the title is merely meant to infer a windfall of good fortune. Viewed today, Christmas
in July contains admirable performances from Dick Powell and Ellen Drew,
along with a cavalcade of faces familiar to anyone who has seen more than one
Preston Sturges’ comedy. Powell, newly released from his Warner Bros. contract,
and about to forge a freelance career to mature his prospects beyond perpetual
casting as the male ingenue, herein still has enough of the youthful vigor that
endeared us to him in all those musical outings made for director, Busby
Berkeley. But Powell also reveals a more meaningful acting prowess,
particularly in the scene when he is finally told he has not won the contest; conveying,
in tandem, dismay, humiliation and a terrible sense of abject personal failure,
without ever uttering a word.
In his later career, Preston Sturges would see his own film-maker’s
reputation slowly erode, particularly after a nasty split from Paramount, whose
executive brain trust mildly resented the fact a writer/director was ostensibly
writing his own ticket on the back lot. In particular, executive producer, Buddy
DeSylva took umbrage to Sturges’ independence. Such protracted battles were to
eventually put a period to Sturges’ supremacy at the studio; DeSylva, patiently
waiting for Sturges’ genius to falter. Ironically, the box office implosion of The
Great Moment (1942) was momentarily delayed by DeSylva’s own decision to
delay its release, along with that of The Miracle of Morgan's Creek (also
made in 1942) and Hail the Conquering Hero (1943). And although the
latter two were smash hits for Paramount when they finally came out, ‘Miracle’
caused a minor bruhaha with Hollywood’s governing censorship over its subject
matter – the conception of a child for whom not even its mother knows the true
identity of its father. The Great Moment, alas, proved anything but, for
Sturges.
Severing ties with Paramount, Sturges invested heavily in an engineering
company and The Players, a nightclub at 8225 Sunset Blvd. – both,
showing net losses on the books. Once, the third highest paid man in America, Sturges
was left to borrow money from his stepfather to stay afloat. And while
millionaire, Howard Hughes briefly endeavored to bankroll Sturges’
indie-company, California Pictures in 1944, the alliance proved problematic for
Sturges after his projected – and costly Harold Lloyd revival, The Sin of
Harold Diddlebock (1947) flopped. Professionally adrift, Sturges went to 2oth
Century-Fox where he produced two more pictures that lost money: Unfaithfully
Yours (1948), and, The Beautiful Blonde from Bashful Bend (1949), in
which Sturges’ quarrels with Fox’s leggy leading lady, Betty Grable, were
legendary. By 1953, Sturges was
considered such a has-been in Hollywood, not even Katharine Hepburn’s clout
could convince any studio to partake of The Millionaires; a movie she
had hoped to star in with Sturges as director. This was also the year the IRS
came down on Sturges for back taxes. Disenchanted, and drinking heavily,
Sturges dared to reinvigorate his film-making career abroad, but to no avail,
and, granting an interview in 1959, Sturges was to summarize his life’s work
thus – “Between flops… I have come up with an occasional hit, but compared
to a good boxer's record…my percentage has been lamentable…Why I'm not walking
on my heels after all this, I don't know. Maybe I am walking on my heels. It
would be surprising if I weren't.”
Christmas in July was one of over 700 movies made by Paramount between
1929 and 1949 whose copyright was sold outright to MCA/Universal in 1958 for
television distribution. Paramount’s shortsightedness then, has forever since
remained their shame; a case of a studio wiping out its entire early history
for immediate profits to be derived at the time of the sale. In fairness,
executive logic then was not as far-seeing, and quite unable to predict the
advent of home video, cable television re-distribution, and, of course, the era
of digital downloads. So, Paramount selling off its history for what, by today’s
standards, boils down to ‘a song’ is, if not excusable, then certainly in
keeping with the unthinking precedence of its time. What this has meant for
Paramount’s illustrious back catalog – and movie lovers everywhere – is a far
more unforgivable dearth, as Universal, still the custodians of these lavishly
appointed entertainments, continues to distribute them in basically whatever
condition they presently exist. Christmas in July is advertised as being
derived from a new 4K scan of original elements. But the bulk of the movie’s visuals
are softly focused and in fairly rough shape. To be fair, Uni and Kino Lorber,
the third-party distributor of this Blu-ray, have not used the word ‘restored’
in their marketing campaign.
So, while a new 4K scan has, indeed, been achieved, the results are problematic
at best, as the elements employed in the scan were flawed from the outset. The
net result is not awful, but it remains far from perfect. Grain is vastly
improved. With the exception of a few scenes, contrast seems more solid on the
whole too. But the image toggles between thicker-than-anticipated grain levels,
and an almost homogenized smoothness. Age-related artifacts are present, though
mostly tempered; some speckling, and, the errant hair caught in the shutter. I
often criticize the custodians of vintage movies for not going the extra mile to
perform full-out restorations on titles they deem worthy of a hi-def release;
not so much for the studio’s level of neglect (as executive mindsets have come
an awfully long way in the interim), but to press the studios to do better work
still, as someday no original surviving elements will be around from which future
restoration and preservation work can be done. When that day arrives – and for
many a classic it has already passed – filmdom’s riches will be at a distinct deficit
for future generations to appreciate. Christmas in July’s 1.0 DTS audio
is adequate for this presentation. Kino has also shelled out for an audio commentary
by Samm
Deighan. It waffles and is fairly light on details specific to this movie, but
offers a solid overview of Preston Sturges’ career. Bottom line: while hardly a
Sturges’ masterpiece, Christmas in July is imbued with the director’s
strange dichotomy of light humor and sobering introspection. You will want to check
it out when time permits.
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
3
VIDEO/AUDIO
3
EXTRAS
1
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