MEET JOHN DOE: Blu-ray (Warner Bros., 1941) Chelsea Rialto Studios

“Everybody’s so interested in his work. It’s a pleasure to be there each day. And, of course, Capra is in a class by himself. There’s no one really quite like him. And when people ask ‘What’s so different about him?’ you just answer, ‘He’s Capra – that’s all!’ You make other pictures to live, but you live to make a Capra picture!” 

- Barbara Stanwyck

Frank Capra’s moodily magnificent opus magnum to the fragility of American exceptionalism in the face of more sinisterly inclined, contrived and divisive politicization, Meet John Doe (1941) remains a riveting indictment of the Washington establishment and its jaded perspective on America’s civil liberties, a theme previously explored in Capra’s blistering classic, Mr. Smith Goes To Washington (1939). In light of the most recent spate of insidiousness seeping into America’s political machinery, and the varying counterculture movements put forth by its creeping fascism, to be shielded under a deceptively banner of ‘compassion’ for special interest groups touting an end to ‘systemic racism’, but actually hellbent on dismantling virtually all of what actually made America great in the first place, viewing Meet John Doe today represents something of a cause célèbre for the every-man.  The picture has also taken on a far more picaresque quality than Capra, arguably, ever intended. And given the rise of such anti-American sentiment from within, put forth by these destructive pockets of put-up protesters, the need to re-screen Meet John Doe is even more socially relevant. Ostensibly, the desecration of monuments to the past will never entirely vanquish the eloquent thoughts put forth by free men and women who value freedom above all else. So, a movie like Meet John Doe, is certainly Capra’s explanation as to how easily such men and woman can be transformed into a hateful rabble, ready to either believe or condemn their savior with one mesmeric wave of this politically-charged baton.

Rather shamefully, Warner Bros., the studio once responsible for its distribution, has allowed the rights to Meet John Doe to fall into public domain purgatory. And thus, one of Capra’s finest homages to American virtues and liberty, as well as man’s self-evaluation in a world spinning madly out of control, has remained mostly ‘unseen’ – or seen, in very brutalized PD reincarnations over the decades that, in no way, contribute to its re-evaluation as a sober and inspiring American classic. Meet John Doe has yet to receive its proper due on home video, thanks to this ‘rights issue brouhaha’. The last collaborative effort between Capra and his long-time screenwriter, Robert Riskin, and, the first independent production for Capra (who saw to it Meet John Doe became a towering masterpiece of social consciousness, away from his alma mater - Columbia Studios), the picture tells the story of a downtrodden 'every man', tempted by personal profit. While the theme was nothing new for Capra or Riskin, they had already explored variations of it in both Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936), and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939), the approach here was decidedly unique. For starters, Capra was motivated by a story from Richard Connell and Robert Presnell, based on Connell's 1922 published short story 'A Reputation'. As a screenplay, the property first became known as 'The Life and Death of John Doe' (and later 'The Life of John Doe') before finally ending up as the more life-affirming, Meet John Doe. Riskin, usually accustomed to working things out for himself, herein became enamored by the Connell/Presnell treatment - enough to be inspired to adapt it for the screen.

Although Gary Cooper was always Capra's first choice to headline the cast, the part of wily newspaper columnist/opportunist, Ann Mitchell was first offered to Warner contract star, Ann Sheridan, and then, Olivia de Havilland, before ultimately going to Barbara Stanwyck. At Columbia, mogul, Harry Cohn had tried to woo Capra back into his fold with a plum renewal of his original contract. Capra, weary to repeat his tenure under Cohn's tyrannical meddling, instead made the decision to venture forth on his own - a daring gesture that prompted Cohn to begrudgingly mutter - "You'll be back!" Capra, however, would not.  Meet John Doe arguably remains the greatest of his ‘slice of life’ dramas, addressing the specter of fascism and its influence – nee corruption, of the American Christian-democratic ideal with a full-on clarity, respect and glorification of the ‘every man’ as his own best hope for the future. This, to be sure, was a common thread in Capra pictures, though uncommonly addressed here, as in the moment of a staged political rally of the ‘John Doe’ movement, reduced from an epic gathering of 500 believers, huddled under umbrellas in the pouring rain, to a disillusioned cohort of stragglers, left blind-sided by the sudden revelation that the focus of their salvation may somehow have been just an illusion – at best – or a shrieking fraud, at worst.

At Warner Bros., Jack L. Warner gave Capra unprecedented autonomy and most of the money to make whatever picture he wanted. However, after Capra's expenses went over budget, Warner refused to top up the till, forcing Capra to dip into his personal savings to finish the movie. The gamble paid off handsomely. Meet John Doe was an immediate smash hit with audiences and for obvious reasons. While the picture is focused on Gary Cooper’s downtrodden dupe, the truly outstanding performance in it is owed Barbara Stanwyck, who proves to be the veritable dynamo, pivoting, in some cases, within only the span of one or two lines, between moments of total tack-sharp and steely-eyed resolve, and, exquisitely velvet-gloved tenderness and affection. As the enterprising reporter, whose ‘stunt’ transforms Cooper’s hobo, first, into 'a man of the people', then, a political zeitgeist, the ascendance of Stanwyck’s Ann Mitchell, working herself into a lather – figuratively, and romantically – for the lanky ‘Doe’ (and 'dough') – contributes ‘fireworks’ of the highest order. It really is a tour de force performance, coming across with the slickest sophistication. If not for love, Ann would all but dissolve into a nuanced mouthpiece for the cause and, if not for her passion for this Capra-corn, Stanwyck herself could not have achieved such hard-hitting excellence in one fell swoop of spectacular emoting. Rumors abound that while shooting the climactic moment, presumably atop a towering skyscraper in a snow storm (actually, inside an ice house refrigerated to 20-below), Stanwyck was felled by pneumonia and had to be rushed to hospital. If true, nothing but near-fatal illness could have put out the three-alarm fire in Stanwyck’s plea as she exudes herein – throwing herself at John’s head and begging for his forgiveness, while instilling him with the courage to go on.

The Riskin/Capra plot begins in earnest with an absorbing (near silent) opening. A newspaper page (Benny Bartlett) emerges from editor, Henry Connell's (James Gleason) office with a list of names whose employment with 'The New Bulletin' have been terminated. One by one, the page gleefully draws an index finger across his throat, making a knocking sound with his tongue against his lips to signify their terminations. Cub reporter, Ann Mitchell (Barbara Stanwyck) emerges from Connell's office, perplexed and bitter. She pleads for her job, even at a drastic pay cut. But Connell has a heart of stone. He instructs Mitchell to pack her things and collect her last check, though not before she puts her final story for the paper to bed. In retaliation, Ann writes this column on the fly - a fake letter from an unemployed 'John Doe' who threatens suicide by jumping from the roof of City Hall in protest of society's ills. The note causes a sensation with the Bulletin's readership and Connell is forced to rehire Mitchell to continue the 'human interest' series. One problem: John Doe doesn't exist. But Mitchell has a solution. The paper will find an ‘unfortunate’ who embodies the noble qualities of John Doe and exploit him for pure profit. After running the gamut of possibilities, Ann and Henry settle on John Willoughby (Gary Cooper), a onetime baseball player who agrees to the ruse, but only if the paper pays for the surgery necessary to restore his chipped elbow - the cause of his demise as a professional athlete.

Doe's compatriot, ‘the Colonel’ (Walter Brennan) is leery of this arrangement. He explains his philosophy as that of the 'He-lots' - in reference to the way society judges those who have financial prosperity as opposed to those who do not. People are polite and sympathetic, but ultimately unhelpful to a poor man. But those same people suddenly become quite chummy when they realize such a man has come into money. They look for handouts from the rich. A further damper is cast on Doe's plans to return to baseball after his surgery, when bodyguard Angelface (Warren Hymer) explains sports heroes are looked up to by children and no one will want to even know Doe after he pulls this stunt for the paper. The subterfuge planned by The Bulletin has John fake his own death on Christmas Eve by jumping off a tall building. Thereafter, John will be paid to get out of town and disappear to a quiet life far away from the furor of the John Doe movement. There's just one problem with this scenario. The localized 'love thy neighbor and give him a hand' homespun philosophy becomes a national craze, spawning 'John Doe' societies across the United States.

Ruthless newspaper tycoon, D.B. Norton (Edward Arnold) taps the John Doe following in the hopes of using John as his pawn to channel support for his political ambitions. He relieves Connell of his duties on the John Doe campaign and further instructs Ann to write her prose for him directly - an edict Ann willingly complies with for the sake of her own social-climbing. Meanwhile, Spencer (Andrew Tombes) of the rival newspaper, The Chronicle, offers John a $5000 bribe to throw his first radio press conference and admit he is a fraud. At first, it looks as though John will comply, thereby securing the money he needs for his arm surgery immediately. However, brought to the brink of acknowledging his own greed, John pulls back at the last minute when he is humbled by the thousands who have come to witness his latest speech. Norton's political machinery swoops in and John is made a celebrity. The trick of it is, John actually believes in the John Doe philosophy while Norton is interested only in exploiting John’s sincerity for political gain. By the time John realizes he is being used as a fop for an unscrupulous and power-hungry tyrant, he is too late to stop the ravenous machinery behind him.

During a nationwide broadcast, the coast-to-coast hookup is sabotaged by Norton who exposes John as a fake. The crowd is transformed into an angry, disillusioned mob and John's reputation is destroyed. Unable to recover from under Norton's landslide of destructively manufactured public opinion, John resigns himself to go through with the initial promise of suicide that began his rise to prominence. His death will prove he is not a fraud. But Ann has fallen in love with John. She forsakes the materialistic happiness Norton has provided her and on Christmas Eve amasses followers of the John Doe Movement to storm the rooftop of City Hall. Mercilessly, Ann begs John's forgiveness and asks him to spare his own life, explaining with Christ-like reverence that a ‘John Doe’ already died for the sake of humanity. The film concludes with a proud Connell trumping Norton by pointing into the assembled crowd and declaring, "There you are, Norton...the people. Try and lick that!"

Meet John Doe is powerful indictment on the partisan morass that can derail a man in his simplest ambitions to become a solid citizen. Thematically, ‘absolute power corrupts’ has always been a world-view in Capra’s corn. But this picture is much darker in tone than Capra’s beloved output at Columbia throughout the 1930’s. And yet, in hindsight at least, it seems to foreshadow the coming of George Bailey’s devastating trajectory in self-doubt and social frustrations, stirred to perfection in It’s A Wonderful Life (1946) a scant 5 years later. Regrettably, Meet John Doe is far less well-known in Capra’s pantheon of greats, more readily revived and diligently archived classics. This oversight can be wholly blamed on its rights having fallen into public domain since. At the time of its theatrical release, the picture catapulted Stanwyck into the outer stratospheres of super-stardom. Indeed, 1941 was her ‘banner year’ – appearing in three of the biggest blockbusters of the season; Ball of Fire, The Lady Eve, and this movie.

To date, numerous bootleg copies of Meet John Doe continue to surface on home video. None are really up to par, though the latest incarnation from Chelsea Rialto, and the first to arrive on Blu-ray, comes closest.  As the picture was originally distributed by Warner Bros. I was rather hoping George Feltenstein at the Warner Archive (WAC) to diligently liberate this Capra classic from PD hell. But no. The biggest gripe I have with Chelsea Rialto’s new-to-Blu is that the B&W image, rumored to be sourced from a 35mm nitrate, still exhibits the waxiness that plagued the tired old DVD release from VCI Entertainment. While overall image clarity marginally improves on the CR release, and occasionally, a close-up can look rather appealing in hi-def, overall, what is here is just a marginal step up from what’s been out there for the asking before. Overall, contrast is solid, though in a few scenes, it looks slightly boosted. Fine detail has a soft, almost smear-like patina that deadens its appeal. Age-related artifacts are present. There’s also some minor gate weave, especially during the opening credits.  Likely owing to DNR, film grain is practically nonexistent.  There is also some exceptionally slight chroma bleeding. This can be omitted by turning the color setting on one’s TV or projector to zero.  The audio exhibits mild hiss and pop consistent with unattended ravages of time but otherwise sounds acceptable. The VCI DVD included a rambling audio commentary from Laureate Home Video's Ken Barnes, with archival audio from Frank Capra. There was also a second disc then, housing three slap-dash featurettes on Gary Cooper, Barbara Stanwyck and Frank Capra, the original Lux Radio broadcast of Meet John Doe, a 'restoration comparison'. The CR Blu omits the featurettes, but does include a snippet from ‘The Men Who Made The Movies’ with Capra discussing the picture. There’s also a theatrical trailer and a stills gallery. Bottom line: Meet John Doe is essential Frank Capra. While CR’s Blu is hardly perfect, it does represent ‘the best’ yet available way to view the movie. But seriously, it is far from perfect and this movie deserves so much better than that!

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

5+

VIDEO/AUDIO

2.5

EXTRAS

1