Irving Berlin's WHITE CHRISTMAS - 70th Anniversary 4K UHD/Blu-ray (Paramount, 1954) Paramount Home Video
In 1954,
Paramount inaugurated VistaVision – a widescreen process utilizing standard
35mm film stock running horizontally, rather than vertically, through a
refurbished Mitchell camera. Interestingly, Paramount remained the only studio
not to embrace 2oth Century-Fox’s patented Cinemascope, though it sincerely and
desperately wanted to enter the ‘widescreen revolution’ on its own terms. VistaVision’s
wider gauge of exposed camera negative created a vertically larger, crisper,
more detailed non-anamorphic image. When projected, it truly was (as its
marketing touted) 'motion picture high fidelity’ decades before 4K was even a
pipedream. VistaVision also utilized Technicolor dye transfers instead of
Eastman Kodak film-processing, a definite plus for recreating those gorgeous
primaries lost in the Eastman monopack process. Particularly impressive, its
saturation of red. While both formats had their virtues, the only real
advantage early Cinemascope possessed over VistaVision was stereophonic sound.
Regrettably, there was no room on a VistaVision negative for anything but
Perpsecta Stereo (an ingeniously jiggered ‘re-channeled’ mono, giving the
illusion of a stereo track).
For a while,
Paramount thought it had a winner in VistaVision. Indeed, critics and audiences
fortunate enough to see VistaVision in its limited engagements were agog and
overflowing in their plaudits for its spectacular presentation. Unfortunately,
theater owners were less than enthusiastic, as VistaVision required yet another
complete retooling of their projection booths and the installation of other
costly equipment. Paramount would eventually compensate distributors for these
expenditures by producing ‘reduction prints’ from original VistaVision camera
negatives, transferred onto traditional 35mm film stock. Although the results
were still better than Cinemascope, these 35mm facsimiles did not achieve all
of the fine detail or color density of true VistaVision. Hence, by the end of
the 1950’s, Paramount retired VistaVision – although, not altogether. As a
point of interest, VistaVision is still utilized to produce high quality rear
projection SFX.
If this history
lesson seems a curious point of embarkation for any review of Michael Curtiz’s
perennial holidays favorite, White Christmas (1954), its inclusion
herein is illustrative of VistaVision’s importance as a watershed technology,
yet another evolutionary step in transitioning from Hollywood’s full-frame
golden era ‘Academy aspect ratios’ classics into the competing ‘widescreen’
format wars. And lest we forget, as big as the names Irving Berlin, Bing Crosby
and Danny Kaye were in 1954, they are preceded in this movie’s main title
sequence by that iconic ‘V’ appearing on the screen and the name ‘VistaVision’
spreading out from the center of the screen to envelop the iconic Paramount
‘mountain’ logo. In hindsight, White Christmas marks the moment when the
movies truly went hi-def – albeit on film, an advancement that home video
technologies have only recently been able to recreate.
4K was meant for
VistaVision, or rather, vice versa, the extraordinary level of detail and color
saturation, long imperceptible on television, bursting forth to its fullest
potential. And White Christmas remains VistaVision’s very impressive
debut. Loyal Griggs’ stunning cinematography shows off Edith Head’s regal
costuming, just one of this movie’s many assets. In years to follow, co-star,
Rosemary Clooney would reminisce about Head’s uncanny sense of color, the
seamless expression of soft gray in Danny Kaye’s ensemble, from the lapels of
his suit coat, right on down to his shoes, during his pas deux with Vera-Ellen
in ‘The Best Things Happen While You’re Dancing’; an uninterrupted
continuity of color to flatter the dance. Clooney would also chuckle over the
stunning black velvet dress made for her song, ‘Love, You Didn’t Do Right By
Me’ – “Everyone talks about that dress and the diamond broach pinned to
my butt! When Edith was making it, she said ‘we have to do something to break
up all that black velvet!’ Oh my…she had a rare sense of humor.”
Indeed, in her
seminal career as a leading couturier in Hollywood, Edith Head would not only
create ‘the look’ for a particular generation of Paramount pictures, but win a
record 8 Oscars in the process - the most for any designer to date and an award
that Head (along with several other costumiers) was instrumental in
establishing within the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.
Paramount’s ‘house of Head’ was worshiped by many a female star, despite the
fact Edith preferred to dress men over women. Nevertheless, Head’s styles set
trends for women’s clothing; her ‘design philosophy’ well-documented in two
self-authored books. Head, among her many attributes, was nothing if not a
shameless self-promoter, and, by far, the most easily identifiable designer of
her generation.
She trademarked her
own inimitable look, bordering on self-parody - a jet black mane severely
rolled into a bun, school marm-ish/business woman classic chic suits cinched at
the waist – immaculate in taupe, grey (and once, in a very long while – red),
and finally, dark blue-lens glasses to add an air of inscrutability. Edith Head
may not have been the greatest costumier of all time, but she was the most
easily identifiable and publicized, a distinction no less afforded the movies
she worked on. “You can spot an Edith Head picture a mile away,”
contemporary designer, Bob Mackie has commented. Indeed, Head built a peerless
in-house style for Paramount over her 43-year career, bidding the studio a fond
farewell to follow her greatest collaborator, Alfred Hitchcock, to Universal in
the early 1960’s. It was a move that, at least in retrospect, benefited
Hitchcock more than Head.
White Christmas is a seminal
movie for Paramount in another way. It took three years to get off the ground,
by far the lengthiest gestation of any Paramount feature during this period.
Intent on recreating the magic of 1942’s Holiday Inn (the movie that
actually introduced the Oscar-winning and million-copy-selling title tune to
audiences), a minor wrench was thrown into the works when Fred Astaire politely
declined to partake of this follow-up project. It remains a mystery why Astaire
bowed out. The unofficial ‘rumor’ is Astaire felt he was getting ‘too old’ for
movie musicals. But this really makes no sense, especially as Astaire would
continue to appear in three more musicals between 1954 and 1957, dancing well
into his seventies on television with Barrie Chase. Whatever Astaire’s logic,
the studio next approached Donald O’Connor for the co-starring role opposite
crooner, Bing Crosby.
But just as
plans were getting underway, O’Connor fell ill with a serious respiratory
infection, forcing him to withdraw from the project. In the end, Paramount went
with Danny Kaye, who jumped at the opportunity to work with Crosby and Berlin.
The studio also signed radio singer, Rosemary Clooney to a five-year contract,
and, borrowed Vera-Ellen from Fox. This would be Vera-Ellen’s second to last
film before retiring. Spirits on the set were high. But Berlin, a stickler,
suddenly became a nervous wreck. The song ‘White Christmas’ was, by then, a
runaway hit. But would a second trip to the well dampen its appeal? Berlin
really had nothing to fear. The love affair between audiences and this, his
most beloved brainchild, not only endured, but experienced something of a cultural
renaissance when the picture had its premiere.
We have yet to pay
homage to Irving Berlin. Any discussion of the man and his music should begin
with fellow composer, Jerome Kern’s snap assessment of Berlin’s talents. When asked
by an interviewer to pigeon-hole Berlin’s ‘place’ in the spectrum of American
music, Kern astutely assessed, “Mr. Berlin has no place in American music.
He is American music!” Indeed, by the time White Christmas hit
theaters, Berlin’s name was synonymous with a rare American patriotism, and, as
famous as any star’s on a marquee. Although foreshortened in this review, the
full title of this pic is ‘Irving Berlin’s White Christmas’. It was in Berlin’s contract, and universally
understood by the film industry that any picture that aspired to exploit the
composer’s formidable song catalog would be obligated to precede the title with
Berlin’s full name, both on screen and in all advertising campaigns.
It also seems
prudent to explain that by the time White Christmas arrived in theaters,
Mr. Berlin was very much in the mode of re-packaging past hits for new
audiences to experience, with only the occasional new contribution to be
inserted into the movies. So, it is saying a great deal that Berlin wrote
an
astonishing 11 songs for White Christmas – 7 to actually make it into
the movie: ‘Sisters,’ ‘The Best Things Happen While You’re Dancing’, ‘Snow’,
‘Count Your Blessings Instead of Sheep’,
‘Choreography’, ‘Love, You Didn’t Do Right by Me’, and, ‘Gee, I Wish I
Was Back in the Army’.
White Christmas is not a
sequel, prequel or even a loose remake of Holiday Inn, but a standalone
‘update’ of themes previously explored. It’s a sort of reconstitution of the
past without being slavishly tethered to it, using the backdrop of a country
inn to tell its story. Norma Krasna, Norman Panama and Melvin Frank’s
screenplay is serviceable, though hardly exceptional. Its subtle poke at
Rodgers and Hammerstein – then the biggest names in live theater - is most
obvious in the casting of Crosby and Kaye as Bob Wallace and Phil Davis
respectively, a reluctantly paired producer act, basking in the afterglow of
their first big Broadway musical review. At one point, Phil even says to Bob, “You’ve
gone absolutely berzerk with work…you like it. You like being Rodgers and
Hammerstein!”
To this initial
concept, the screenwriters add a WWII backstory. The song ‘White Christmas’
had, in fact, been written by Berlin under the slight duress of home sickness
for his native New York. And its debut in Holiday Inn, at the height of
the European conflict, struck a romanticized chord with soldiers away from home
for the girls and families they left behind. The movie, White Christmas
takes its sweet time getting to the heart of this story, a warm and fuzzy ‘feel
good’ devoted to helping one of war’s forgotten men a decade after the guns
fell silent. On this occasion, the man of the hour is Tom Waverly (Dean Jagger)
a retired U.S. general, relieved of his command, retired, and since to have
taken refuge as the not-altogether-successful owner of the Columbia Inn in Pine
Tree, Vermont. Otherwise, White Christmas is a straight laced/straight-forward
romantic comedy. After Phil saves Bob from a mortar blast during the war, he
finagles his way into Bob’s life and career. In private, the two are frequently
at odds, but nevertheless prove to be the perfect blend on Broadway – a real
powerhouse team, building an impressive roster of stage credits. Phil is
constantly attempting to involve the middle-age Bob with various
twenty-something showgirls. Phil suggests Bob is in danger of becoming a “miserable,
lonely old man”. It’s a gag, for sure, as Bing Crosby, by 1954, had well
passed his ‘leading man’ years to be considered ‘the grand old man’ of the
song. Although Bob mildly resents this implication, he can evidently see the
merits in it. Alas, women and showbiz don’t mix.
Receiving a
letter, presumably written by their war buddy - Benny, whom Phil has nicknamed
“Freckle-faced Haines: the dog faced boy”, Bob and Phil agree to review Benny’s
sister act at Novello’s – a popular outdoor nightclub in Florida. The boys are
greeted warmly by the proprietor, Novello (Herb Vigran) who wastes no time
alerting the Haines sisters, Judy (Vera-Ellen) and Betty (Rosemary Clooney)
that Wallace and Davis are out front to catch their act. In private, Judy
reveals too much about the ruse, and Betty wisely deduces Judy - not Benny -
has forged the letter that brought Bob and Phil to the club. The girls perform
their signature number, ‘Sisters’, attracting more than just a fleeting
interest from both Bob and Phil. Bob’s unexpected infatuation with Betty is
encouraged by Phil. But after their number, Betty confesses to Bob, about Judy’s
false pretext. Bob is mildly amused – at first. Soon, he becomes embroiled in a
rather caustic disagreement with Betty about Judy’s motives.
In the meantime,
Phil has engaged Judy in a spirited pas deux on the terrace. This ends when Novello
explains to Betty, Judy and Phil that the sheriff (James Parnell) has come to
arrest them because their landlord (Sig Ruman) is claiming they burned a hole
in their apartment rug, while refusing to pay him $200. Determined not to let
the girls slip away, Phil gives Betty and Judy the train tickets he and Bob are
supposed to use later this same evening and tells them to get out of town. Phil
further stalls the sheriff by borrowing one of the girl’s records and then
partially dressing himself and Bob up in their flashy attire to lip sync their
signature song. It’s a garish burlesque the audience laps up. This plot
entanglement ends with Bob and Phil narrowly escaping the sheriff, and,
eventually making their way to the depot to board their train.
Bob is perturbed
with Phil for giving away their drawing room to the Haines’ sisters, but is
unable to transfer his contempt to the girls after Betty and Judy graciously
thank him. Instead, Phil encourages Bob to take a side trip to Vermont where
the girls have been hired to perform at the Columbia Inn. It all sounds like
the idyllic wintery escape, except, Pine Tree has not had so much as a flake
since Thanksgiving and, in fact, is experiencing something of a minor heat
wave. Bob and Phil are reunited with their former commanding officer, Gen.
Waverly and meet his granddaughter, Susan (charming, Anne Whitfield) and
housekeeper, Emma (irrepressible Mary Wickes) – an affable busybody. Bob
latches onto the idea to debut the new show on Christmas eve at the inn, to
drum up business and save Gen. Waverly from bankruptcy.
The middle act
of White Christmas doesn’t have much to say, devolving into a Broadway
styled pantheon of ‘rehearsal’ numbers that are presumably meant to be a part
of the final show. In between these glossy – occasionally garish, and
thoroughly unrelated – songs and dances, is fitted a screwball comedy subplot.
Bob and Betty slowly begin to fall in love. But Betty’s affections turn to
vinegar when she erroneously comes to believe Bob has decided to sell out the
General for some free publicity by going on the Ed Harris television show – thus
making Waverly a shamelessly pathetic figure from coast to coast. Without
questioning these suspicions, or challenging Bob to learn if what she suspects
is, in fact, the truth, Betty abruptly quits the show and takes a job at the
Carousel Club in New York.
In the meantime,
Bob goes on The Ed Harris Show, explaining how no one connected with
Wallace and Davis is getting anything out of this except the opportunity to
give the General the nicest Christmas present anybody ever could. Betty catches
the broadcast in between numbers and quits the club to return to Pine Tree on
Christmas Eve. Ever the plotter, Emma
has deliberately sent the only two suits Waverley owns to the cleaners, thus
forcing him to dress in his retired general’s garb to attend the premiere. But
when he enters the barn, Waverly suddenly realizes he is the real star of the
evening, the gallant men who served under him during WWII, a parade of familiar
faces appreciatively beaming back at him. Better still, the weather has turned
in everyone’s favor - a light snowfall blanketing the ground. Bob, Phil, Betty
and Judy take to the stage with a reprise of ‘White Christmas’, the
General toasted by his men as the evening draws to its climactic close.
More than
anything else, White Christmas is preordained as a celebration of
Irving Berlin’s prowess as the Dean of American pop music. And yet, the Berlin
score gets short shrift, or rather, is garishly blown out of proportion.
Crosby’s solo of the title track is briefly interrupted by a tired old music
box that conks out in the middle of the song. A montage depicting Phil and
Bob’s meteoric rise to fame showcases mere snippets of ‘Heat Wave’, ‘A Funny
Song’ and ‘Blue Skies’ – more frenetic than melodic, and thrust
together with overlapping headlines in the showbiz trades, touting their
success. ‘Mandy’ – a minstrel show first written by Berlin all the way
back in 1929 as a ‘black face’ routine, is transformed herein into a
razzamatazz glitzy spectacle with green and red-coated dancers tossing
Vera-Ellen about like a rag doll, while ‘Choreography’ is a
rambunctious, but noisy spoof of what dance, then, had become in the American
theater.
'Abraham',
Berlin's homage to Lincoln, performed in 'black face' in Holiday Inn,
all but vanishes under its overly brassy orchestral rendering herein, barely
recognizable as Vera-Ellen and dancer, John Brascia - who also figures
prominently during their pas deux portion of 'Mandy' - perform some
electrifying footwork that bring down the house. Still, one really has to
question the artistic integrity in the interminable interpolation of ‘Sisters’
– heard three times (twice in its entirety); the first, as a legitimate number
sung by Clooney and a dubbed Vera-Ellen, then, as lampooned by Crosby and Kaye
to a lip sync track, and, yet again, as part of the girl’s debut at the
Columbia Inn. It’s also heard orchestrally as ‘background’ during the party
sequence in which Phil announces his faux engagement to Judy. ‘Sisters’ is a
middling Berlin ditty at best, and one not improved upon by its repetition,
unlike the reprise of ‘We’ll Follow the Old Man’ which serves as
military-maneuvering bookends to the ‘wartime’ backstory.
This leaves two
of Berlin’s new efforts to champion: the Crosby/Clooney duet ‘Count Your
Blessings’ and Clooney’s only solo, the scintillating yet slightly sad, ‘Love,
You Didn’t Do Right By Me’ – introducing a very handsome, George Chakaris
as one of her male dance partners. The other undisputed moment of musical
brilliance is the Kaye/Ellen pas deux, ‘The Best Things Happen While You’re
Dancing’ – executed with a maximum spark of joy. Crosby has his own
poignant reminiscence, ‘What Do You Do With A General?’ – about the
declining popularity of men in service once their duties have been fulfilled.
Of course, no movie titled White Christmas could endure without a lavish
reprise of its title track. And, in this regard, White Christmas does
not disappoint. The resultant spectacle, with the four principles garbed in red
satin and velvet Mr. and Mrs. Claus attire, are flanked by an incurably
precocious brood of pre-teen sugar plum fairies and miniature Santas. It’s
garish in that mid-fifties’ Americana ostentatiousness, just a little too grand,
robbing Berlin’s simple lyric of its sustained innocence and intimacy. Paramount has borrowed most of the backdrop
for this pop-art climax, including pinnacle-spire plastic shrubs, from their
1944 flop, Lady in the Dark.
In all, White
Christmas is really more of a time capsule of ‘50s pastiche than a
penultimate example of seasonal good cheer, lagging in the timeless allure of
its predecessor, Holiday Inn. The flash is too flashy, the numbers too
obvious and decadent in their accouterments to be appreciated as integral parts
of the story. Vera-Ellen seems to realize as much. She frequently looks
directly into the camera during her routines (a no-no in film-making). Yet, her
gaze seems to be addressing no one except the audience sitting in the darkened
theater, instead of the characters she is supposed to be interacting with in
the story. It may sound as though I’m poo-pooing a beloved holiday classic,
particularly, in light of the fact White Christmas was Paramount’s
biggest and brightest moneymaker of 1954. And most certainly, White
Christmas was, is, and, will likely always remain a part of my own family’s
holiday traditions.
But it is a
movie begging to be seen, the groveling a tad too tinny and echoing. The cast
is dynamite. But the real star here is VistaVision. Like Berlin’s score, the
cast seem to be ‘selling’ a bit too hard to thoroughly impress, and, the ‘feel
good’, except in the penultimate reunion between Waverly and his wartime mates lacks
warmth. Do we really believe Bob and Betty in their May/December romance? Phil
and Judy, even less so. Judy never actually gets to first, much less, third
base with Phil. And his declaration during the finale, that he will ‘join’ Bob
in his enthusiasm for love, just seems arbitrary at best. There’s nothing
better to do, so… Despite the dissimilar
plots of Holiday Inn and White Christmas, comparisons are
inevitable. Both movies are a cornucopia of Berlin standards. Both are set in
an idyllic country inn, far removed from the hustle and bustle of daily life.
Yet, in the final analysis, Holiday Inn generates the tender sincerity
of a cherished and timeless Christmas classic, while White Christmas
merely gives off a lot of frenetic heat.
Paramount has
finally come around to a native 4K release for White Christmas’ 70th
anniversary. And while ‘the mountain’ has definitely upped its game where image
quality is concerned, the audio remains a very disappointing aspect of this release.
To be clear, the image here will surely dazzle. Paramount’s remastered Blu from
2016 looked fabulous. But in 4K, color saturation advances to almost
overpowering levels. Everything looks as it should, or rather, could, in
VistaVision. Flesh tones are natural. Primaries pop. Contrast is uniformly beyond
reproach, and fine details abound in a way that makes the whole image sparkle
with razor-sharp crispness. So, what’s not to love? The soundtrack. White
Christmas was originally released theatrically with Perspecta Stereo. To
date, that re-channeled track has never materialized on home video. Perhaps, it
no longer exists. In the interim, Paramount gave us two options on home video. These endure on this 4K release: a 5.1 re-imagining, and a 2.0 DTS mono.
So, what’s the
problem? Well, for starters, the musical sequences in White Christmas
have always suffered from a strident sonic characteristic. Some numbers fare
better than others. But all sound as though to have had their treble register
boosted. ‘Choreography’, as
example, grates on the acoustic nerve, with violin chords so shrill, your
center channel output is on the verge of breaking apart with crackle. The
oddity is this. Two years ago, Sepia Records put out a CD of the ‘original’
soundtracks to both Holiday Inn and White Christmas, and this, after years of Paramount suggesting ‘no’ original stems from those recording
sessions had survived to be archived in their vaults when – clearly – they had!
The Sepia release proved a minor revelation. For although several of the tracks
for the Holiday Inn portion of this CD were actually
re-recordings and NOT derived from pre-recordings made for the actual movie,
virtually all of the tracks included for White Christmas were the
original pre-recordings, and, in native stereo!
So, after only
hearing ‘Sisters’ in re-channeled stereo on Paramount’s DVD’s and Blu’s,
we suddenly had a real stereophonic recording to relish. Ditto for ‘Choreography’,
which now played – literally – like music to the ears, with subtle nuances
never explored elsewhere. The Sepia even had 4 alternative recordings of the
finale to White Christmas. Since one can only imagine Sepia’s source for
the CD was audio stems provided to them by Paramount Pictures, the lack of thoroughly
remastering this 4K to include those vastly improved tracks inserted back into
the picture elements remains a real mystery here, and, a disappointing one at
that! As per ‘extras’ – this 4K release
comes with a standard Blu. Important to note – the Blu is not derived from this
refurbished 4K scan, but is, in fact, simply the old disc included because it
contains virtually all of the goodies.
So, we get the
same Rosemary Clooney audio commentary as before. Paramount has gone to the
well for some archived ‘Classic Holiday Moments’; TV Christmas specials
of Crosby warbling ‘Silent Night’ in 1948, ‘White Christmas’ in
1976, and the horrendous ‘Natalie Cole-esque teaming of Crosby with Michael
Bublé from 2012. Danny Kaye and Nat King Cole are featured, doing ‘Jingle
Bells’ from 1963, and Kaye appears again in segments of A Christmas Carol from
1965. There’s also an ‘Assignment Children’ featurette, with an intro
from Bublé (aside: I have no idea how or why Michael Bublé has suddenly become
the co-host and authority on this movie). The featurette provides a brief
backlog of snippets and sound bites about the making of White Christmas.
Other extras have already been made available on the previously issued Blu-ray,
including Bing Crosby: Christmas Crooner, Danny Kaye: Joy to the World;
another featurette exposing the fact Irving Berlin wrote a prologue to the song
‘White Christmas’; Rosemary's Old Kentucky Home; a tour of the
star’s Augusta, Kentucky house; White Christmas: From Page to Stage,
exploring the aegis of creating a Broadway show based on the movie, and,
finally, the vintage featurette, White Christmas: A Look Back with Rosemary
Clooney. Paramount tops off the extras with photo galleries and two
trailers. Bottom line: the 4K release of White Christmas is partly a
cause to rejoice. It looks spectacular. But it sounds pedestrian. Judge and buy
accordingly.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
4
EXTRAS
4
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