MEET JOHN DOE: Blu-ray (Warner Bros., 1941) ClassicFlix
- Barbara
Stanwyck
Frank Capra’s
moodily magnificent opus to the fragility of American exceptionalism, flying in
the face of more sinisterly 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 more recent insidiousness seeping into America’s political machinery, and
the varying counterculture movements put forth by creeping fascism, to be
shielded under deceptively bannered ‘compassion’ for special interest groups
touting an end to ‘systemic racism’, though actually hellbent on dismantling what
actually makes 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, 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. Yet, Meet John Doe, is Capra’s
clear-eyed critique as to how easily virtuous men can be culled into a hateful
rabble, ready to believe or condemn one honest man with only a mesmeric wave of
this politically-charged baton.
Rather
shamefully, Warner Bros., the studio once responsible for its distribution, 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 civil liberty, as well as
man’s self-evaluation in a world spinning madly out of control, has remained
mostly ‘unseen’ in the intervening decades – or seen only in very brutalized PD
reincarnations that, in no way, contribute to its re-evaluation as a sober and
inspiring American classic. The last collaborative effort between Capra and his
long-time screenwriter, Robert Riskin, and, the first independent production
for Capra, 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 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 as an independent - 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
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 with audiences and for obvious reasons. While the picture is
focused on Gary Cooper’s downtrodden dupe, the truly outstanding performance 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.
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 only in her passion for this
Capra-corn, Stanwyck 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 of Meet John Doe have surfaced on home video. None are
really up to par, not even this latest hi-def effort from ClassicFlix; its second
revival on Blu-ray. (Chelsea Rialto
Studios beat ClassicFlix by nearly 3 years).
The biggest gripe I have with ClassicFlix new-to-Blu is that they still
only have access to the Library of Congress fine grain. Sony actually holds
dominion over original elements including a 35mm OCN. For whatever reason, Sony
refuses, either to share with third-party distributors or do the heavy lifting
necessary for a full-on restoration. The B&W image from ClassicFlix Blu is
easily the best Meet John Doe has ever looked on home video. ClassicFlix has
done their due diligence. But again, they are working from a deficit. Overall,
contrast is solid and markedly improved. Fine detail has a soft, almost
smear-like patina. Age-related artifacts are ‘mostly’ eradicated. Minor gate
weave has been corrected. But DNR continues to homogenize film grain. The DTS
2.0 mono is acceptable. This release deletes virtually all of the extras that accompanied
the substandard DVD releases of Meet John Doe from VCI. So, no commentary from
Laureate Home Video's Ken Barnes, with archival audio snippets inserted from
Frank Capra. No featurettes on Gary Cooper, Barbara Stanwyck and Frank Capra.
No, Lux Radio broadcast or snippets from ‘The Men Who Made The Movies’ with
Capra discussing this movie in particular. There is a ‘restoration comparison’
reel. But it runs barely 10 mins. Bottom line: Meet John Doe is a seminal Capra
classic. Why it continues to languish when there is so much left to be said of
it remains an utter curiosity. You would really have to ask the powers that be
at Sony.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 - 5 being the best)
5+
VIDEO/AUDIO
3.5
EXTRAS
0
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