SUNRISE AT CAMPOBELLO: Blu-ray (Warner Bros., 1960) Warner Archive

 One of America’s most beloved presidents, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, was given as affectionate – and revealing – a tribute in director, Vincent J. Donehue’s Sunrise at Campobello (1960) – a biographical masterpiece, written and personally supervised by Dore Schary. By then, Schary, who had served tenures as a playwright, screenwriter, producer and studio head at three studios, and was, for a brief wrinkle in time considered to be L.B. Mayer’s valiant successor at MGM, was something of persona non grata in Hollywood. Schary’s swift fall from grace was precipitated by a trio of personally supervised movies at Metro - The Swan (1956), The Last Hunt (1956) and Designing Woman (1957) – all of which lost money, and, by the caliginous thud of Raintree County (1957) – MGM’s costliest picture to date that miserably failed to catch the tail fires of success perpetuated by the theatrical reissue of 1939’s Gone with the Wind. For the first time in nearly 50-years, Metro’s holding company, Loewe’s Incorporated fell into the red, and Schary was fired on Thanksgiving Day, a dismissal that MGM’s Esther Williams believed was fitting, since in her eyes, Schary had been something of a ‘turkey’ that had gobbled up the profits of that seemingly indestructible empire Mayer had built and held together with his own vision and pride.

Sunrise at Campobello was therefore something of an exoneration of Schary’s reputation in the industry. Almost immediately following his departure from Metro, Schary pursued former First Lady, Eleanor Roosevelt to secure the rights to her husband’s life story. Indeed, Eleanor, who was staunchly protective of Franklin’s legacy, was very much invested in the project from the outset. The great lady had nothing to fear. The Broadway debut of Sunrise at Campobello was, by all accounts, a runaway success, running 556 performances from 1958 to 1959, winning 5 Tony Awards in the process. In hindsight, the play’s success did more than reassert Schary had not fallen entirely out of favor with his peers. It also provided the ole-time mogul with a renewed foothold in the film business, while allowing him the opportunities to straddle the even greater chasm between the movies and stagecraft as an indie producer. Schary would remain active in both venues for many years yet to follow.

The Warner Bros. production of Sunrise at Campobello very much remained close to Schary’s heart. Indeed, he wrote, produced and actually appears – briefly, as the Chairman of the Connecticut Delegation – in the movie, by all accounts a passion project to extend the life of the original show and lend it even more cache by shooting much of the story in authentic locations. It is fitting, perhaps, it was Schary who endeavored to lionize FDR’s legacy on the stage and celluloid first; his own political alignment coinciding with the late President’s staunchly liberal policies in governing the nation. And yet, Sunrise at Campobello is a movie not so much about Roosevelt’s politics as it remains a tender-hearted investigation of three brief years of his life, and, long before his own bid for the White House. The play’s strengths – an investigation of the close and impenetrable bond between Franklin and his cousin, Eleanor, his devotion to family, and his often-confrontational clashes with his own mother, Sara (Anne Shoemaker – replacing the stage’s Anne Seymour), who resisted her son’s stubborn determination to defy his illness and lead a ‘normal’ life – are the crux of our story, and embodied in a commanding performance given by the stage and screen’s centrally cast player, Ralph Bellamy.

In a career spanning nearly 60-years, Ralph Bellamy managed to morph from second-string leading man, to comedic fop, and finally, the grand old sage of his profession, remaining vital and relevant almost to the last; dying of a lung ailment on Nov. 29, 1991 – age, 87, just one year after appearing in the smash hit, Pretty Woman (1990). In a period of only 3-years, beginning in 1931, he was already a veteran of 22 movies, called upon as a reliable second lead. In 1934 alone, he cropped up in 7 major films, and, received an Oscar nod for his performance as the dim-witted Texan in Leo McCarey’s brilliant screwball comedy, The Awful Truth (1937). Bellamy was also one of the first film stars to break into television, starring in the noir/detective series, Man Against Crime which ran from 1949 to 1956. And while the work was profitable, it could hardly be considered ‘artistic’. Thus, Sunrise at Campobello presented Bellamy with the opportunity of a lifetime, to assimilate into a role, arguably tailor-made for his varied talents. Indeed, Bellamy’s reincarnation of FDR in this movie is what continues to invigorate its reputation as a great bio-pic today.

Ironically, it was Bellamy’s co-star, Greer Garson, who received all the accolades – and the Oscar-nod as Best Actress – upon its release. And, not to diminish Ms. Garson’s contributions herein – as they are formidable – it nevertheless is Bellamy’s performance that is the glue keeping everything together. Here is a portrait of a great man as willed to life by a truly great – if today, sadly underrated and all but forgotten – actor. Bellamy has captured not only the likeness and mannerisms of Franklin Roosevelt, but also the unique and unerring content of his character. He damn near breaks his back playing the physically emasculated man who refuses to accept his invalidism, and believably shatters our hearts in a scene where, to illustrate Roosevelt’s renewed vigor, optimism and strength, he drags his faux paralyzed lower extremities up the stairs as a resolute, but emotionally shattered Eleanor and his curmudgeonly campaign manager, Louis Howe (Hume Cronyn) look on. Of course, the genuine miracle of the piece is not so much to be had in Bellamy’s exquisite overture to FDR, nor even the occasionally over-rehearsed spectacle of watching the uber-glamorous Greer Garson downplay her good fortunes as the ever-devoted, but dowdy Eleanor; rather, that Sunrise at Campobello seems to have avoided almost every pitfall usually ascribed a stage to screen translation, retaining all of its tender and rousing charges in triumph of the indominable human spirit. Through the subtle sparkle of Bellamy’s charisma, and even subtler skills of Dore Schary’s raw literary wit, the picture shines as a beacon of shamelessly affecting sentiment, never to overplay its hand.

Given how carefully FDR kept hidden the terrible strain of keeping up appearances as a vigorous Commander and Chief during his presidency, granting Schary access, not only to the depths of his despair, but also the rigors and hardship of a regimented program to strengthen and preserve his upper body, was a daring allowance on the part of Mrs. Roosevelt, undoubtedly to keep tight reigns on both the evolution of the play and its cinematic counterpart. The results skirt a few issues – namely, Roosevelt’s ongoing affair with his private secretary, Marguerite ‘Missy’ LeHand (Jean Hagen); also, his inability to relate very well to his only daughter, Anna (Zina Bethune). In the movie, a reconciliation of sorts is reached via Eleanor’s intervention after a particular row in which both sides behaved rather badly. In life, such closure was never entirely resolved. The differences between the play and the movie are immediately apparent. The larger proscenium motion picture presentation allows for, brings the audience much closer to this intimate family portrait, and lending more ballast to its verbal exchanges. We genuinely feel for this dynamic family unit after its most robust patriarch is stricken with paralysis, our wellspring of emotions, somehow made to feel ‘at home’ with these privileged few who would, in many ways, cement, if not inaugurate the greatest presidential dynasty Americans have ever known.

Our story begins in the last golden summer of 1921, the Roosevelts – Franklin, Eleanor, Anna, Franklin Jr. (Robin Warga), Elliot (Pat Close), James (Tim Considine) and Johnny (Tom Carty) at home and at play at their summer retreat on Campobello Island in New Brunswick, Canada, blissfully unaware of how all of their lives will change forever very shortly.  As summer draws to a close, Franklin inexplicably suffers the loss of the strength in his legs. A specialist, Dr. Bennett (Frank Ferguson) diagnoses the condition as infantile paralysis (a.k.a. poliomyelitis) – a devastating blow. Although Franklin is optimistic, from this moment forward he will never walk again under his own power. Word of his debility draws shrewd advisor and loyalist, Louis McHenry Howe to his side. More than ever, Howe believes Franklin was born to have a career in politics. Yet, perhaps, not even he can fathom the future of the man who now must drag himself about the house, or hold court from a wheel chair.

Franklin's mother, Sara Delano, is a domineering dowager who abhors the asthmatic Louie's wry wit and unaffected tête-à-tête with her son even as he manages to assuage Eleanor’s fears about the future. Furthermore, Louie believes the best thing for Franklin would be a life in public service. Franklin concurs, and, despite his despair, kept mostly hidden from his family, begins to lay the groundwork for an ambitious future under Louise’s auspices, supported by his ever-devoted private secretary, Missy Le Hand. At the close of summer, the press gathers to witness and report on Franklin’s enfeebled state. Instead, Louise arranges a diversion, transporting Franklin by stretcher on a different ferry while issuing his own prescription to the press for Franklin’s recovery. Now, Roosevelt spends several months in hospital, fitted with leg braces and other medical apparatuses to assist him in his daily regimen. Missy and Louie maintain Franklin’s public presence through correspondence, providing support to Woodrow Wilson's newly forged efforts for world peace. Secretly, however, Franklin confides in Eleanor his deep-rooted fears, manifested in a nightmare where he is trapped by fire. Franklin’s infirmity affords him newfound humility and this, gradually begins to lift his spirits. Louie reports that the New York Democratic Party is considering him for governor, and begins to coach Eleanor to be her husband’s greatest proponent by addressing crowds with speeches he writes.

Meanwhile, Franklin pursues his many private interests. But Louie urges Franklin to shed himself of these minor responsibilities in order to focus on the looming Congressional elections. When Franklin illustrates how he can crawl up the stairs, Eleanor sees it as a personal triumph even as Sara becomes gravely concerned about keeping up appearances.  By July 1923, Franklin’s upper body strength has returned, though he still lacks it in his legs. In a private moment, the couple recall how their respective families once opposed their marriage. Admitting he was rather arrogant in his younger years, Eleanor confides that, as an awkward adolescent she felt unloved until Franklin came into her life. The couple’s daughter, Anna, discontented and recalcitrant, snappishly intrudes upon their conversation. However, Eleanor brings the girl to see to reason, and sometime later, Anna and her father are reconciled, agreeing to speak more often.

From here, the plot fast-tracks to January 1924 and New York City, where a very nervous Eleanor begins to gain her confidence as a public speaker. Sara is appalled, believing politics a ‘tawdry’ affair, and, demands Franklin surrender his dreams, instead to live out the rest of his days at Hyde Park. After a particularly heated discussion, Franklin becomes even more determined to support himself on crutches. Aspiring to run in the upcoming presidential election on the Democratic ticket, Governor Alfred E. Smith (Alan Bunce) asks Franklin to give the opening address. As this will require Franklin to stand for more than 45-minutes, there is some consternation as to whether such a miracle can be achieved, even with proper conditioning and leg braces.  Nevertheless, Franklin agrees, then sets about getting a blueprint of Madison Square Garden where the convention will be held, mapping out a plan to walk ten steps to the podium. On the eve of the convention, Franklin has his eldest son, James wheel him near the podium. As the hushed crowd observes, Franklin rises from his seat, makes the brief journey to the dais and hands his son his crutches. The crowd goes wild.

In these penultimate moments of strong-willed conquest over seemingly insurmountable odds, Sunrise at Campobello transmits its tear-jerking pride to the audience. We can sense the weight of Roosevelt’s accomplishment because Ralph Bellamy has gingerly ‘walked’ us through every step of the journey, exercising a reserved, yet undeniably courageous faith not to surrender to this infirmity. Even so, the documentary quality of Sunrise at Campobello gets somewhat diffused by the production values in this nearly 3-hr. big-scale super-production, complete with intermission. Franz Waxman’s score, particularly his main titles, serve as an inspirational point of embarkation into FDR’s extraordinary strength of character. And the picture is also immeasurably blessed in Russell Harlen’s lush Technicolor cinematography, with the added attraction, seeing much of the story unfold in places the real Roosevelts called home. Where the picture falters, marginally, is in the moments when Harlen’s camera is allowed to get too close to its principals, leaving Ralph Bellamy to mime – rather than mine – an expression or two from the great man’s storehouse of declarative mannerisms. There are several cringe-worthy instances in which Bellamy appears as though to have escaped from either Madame Tussaud’s or an audio-animatronic show in Disney’s Hall of Presidents.

As much, Greer Garson overplays her hand as Eleanor, with fitted teeth that protrude as a mule’s, and worse, add caricature to her already intoned monologues. A little of the real Eleanor Roosevelt undeniably goes a very long way, and Garson’s impressions of her homelier than thou alter ego are best served when she is afforded only glints to express – as only Garson can – with one or two choice lines of dialogue plied to nurture, rather than gild this lily. The movie’s best moments come together when Bellamy and Garson present themselves completely to us as a united front, or share subtler interactions with the supporting cast. Bellamy’s scene of utter defiance against his demonstrative mother rings with a distinct note of bitter truth, as do his varied exchanges with Howe. And Garson gives us that old Irish lilt of class personified beneath her deglamorized façade. Thus, in spite of each actor’s occasional shortcomings, Sunrise at Campobello rises to a level of integrity as a praise-worthy, and oft triumphant exemplar of what all bio-pics ought to be – true to life, rather than a cheap pantomime of it.

Sunrise at Campobello arrives on Blu-ray via the Warner Archive (WAC) in a magnificent-looking hi-def transfer with only a few minor caveats to point out. There are one or two instances of edge enhancement, and a couple of scenes to appear suddenly soft with amplified grain levels, suggesting perhaps a dupe or second-generation element was used in place of an original camera negative or first-generation master. Likely, this is as the movie has always existed, and thus no aspersions are ascribed to this 1080p mastering effort. WAC has done its usual due diligence here and the movie looks great. Colors are richly saturated. Flesh tones have been accurately rendered. Contrast is a tad weaker than anticipated. Sunrise at Campobello’s cinematography is brightly lit. Even so, a few scenes look a bit washed out, the overall level of color saturation, faltering, suggesting hints of vinegar syndrome in the original elements. Film grain appears indigenous to its source, apart from the aforementioned sequences where it looks a tad clumpier than it ought. The 1.0 DTS mono audio is an excellent reproduction of the original RCA mono mix. One regret: apart from a theatrical trailer – NO extras. Bottom line: Sunrise at Campobello, mostly, remains a beautiful and evocative snapshot of Roosevelt’s middle years, usually considered the ‘fallow’ period in his political life, yet, in hindsight, the proving ground for a great leader in preparation and about to emerge on the world stage. Good stuff here, and well worth your coin. Recommended.

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

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

4

EXTRAS

0