Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Thoughts about WWI and The Great Depression after watching Golddiggers of 1933

When Golddiggers of 1933 started in class today, it began with a bang in the true Broadway musical style; pretty girls in lavish costumes singing and dancing in an ornate set to a full orchestra. The Depression-era theme soon sets in when creditors come to collect from the producer, carrying off the set pieces and actually ripping the costumes off some girls in the process.

Oddly, much of the movie holds to the lighthearted, escapist style of musical we've come to know and love despite this rough beginning. We laugh at the materialistic comedian Trixie as she winds the lecherous, lovable old "Fanny" around her little finger. We love it when the group of thespians stick it to the stuffy banker older brother when he tries to look down his nose at them. (One part I found particularly amusing was when Trixie convinces Fanuel to buy her a little Pekingese dog and names it "Fanny"...he proceeds to compare his reflection to the dog's in a mirror and they look comically similar!)

I was shocked and awed by the final number in this musical, "The Forgotten Man". After the traditional "happy ending" where all the couples get together (everyone gets married; they do it the proper way!) the movie busts out this powerful piece in a total departure from the previous mood.

It opens with Carol (played by Joan Blondell) speaking in rhyme about her "forgotten man". Her lament is picked up in the soulful wail of Etta Moten as the camera pans from window to window, picturing the women left alone without their men. The lyrics are part of what struck me the most;
"Remember my forgotten man/
you put a rifle in his hand/
you sent him far away/
you shouted 'hip-hooray!'/
but just look at him today"

During the fluffy, rom-com portion of this film, a person who wasn't watching it during the time in which it was filmed is liable to forget (as I did) about the very real impact of the Depression on Americans and that many of the hardest-hit were veterans of the Great War. Doubtless this was kind of the point at the time; escaping the grueling reality of everyday life was part of the reason people spent their dear earnings on the movies.

The portrayal of the bum at the start of the number picking up a cigarette butt out of the gutter is meant to be kind of repulsive; when Carol stops the policeman from dragging him off by revealing the war medal pinned to his lapel, the audience is just as taken aback as he is. To think that the very men who were lauded as heroes and given ticker-tape parades and fanfare were now sleeping in doorways is terrible. Considering America's general (general, not uniform) feelings of respect and protectiveness towards veterans, this image is really powerful.

The image that really gave me chills, however, was the marching "soldiers". Granted, the film practically spells out its message in ten-foot-tall neon lighting here. However, it still works at producing the emotional gut reaction it was looking for. The soldiers are sent off to war with flags streaming in the breeze, trumpets, the kisses of pretty girls and confetti. We see them march proudly by in their spotless uniforms and jauntily tilted helmets, soon to be replaced by war-worn troops. The men in this group stagger across the stage, stumbling in irregular lines, hauling injured comrades, sporting gruesome bandages and ragged uniforms. I actually kind of had my heart in my throat here; because World War I happened so long ago, it is easy to forget that it was one of the most brutal wars of our time. Seeing the depiction of the weary, injured young men with empty eyes limping home from battle drove home the message of sacrifice.

The number goes on to depict the same men standing in line for free sandwiches and coffee, relying on charity just to eat. Busby Berkeley was evidently inspired by the "bonus marches" on Washington D.C. performed by war veterans the previous year when he put this number together.

This number, with its strong message of support for veterans, made me think about what I know about the Great War. I remember learning something about it in high school history, glossed over just as many important events were in order to fit all the required material in. I also recalled a vague memory of being given a silk poppy as a young girl to wear, and being told it had something to do with World War I. I decided to look up the significance of that poppy to refresh my memory, and found that it was inspired by the famous poem "In Flanders Fields" by Lt-Col. John McCrae. I wanted to repost it here for the other students in class who, like me, might not remember what the whole deal with the poppies was:

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Obviously, I was given the poppy on or near Remembrance Day, which is November 11th. Some of you history buffs may know/remember this already; for that I commend you! Now, I digress from the subject of war and go back to the film.

I noticed that even during a number as somber as "Forgotten Man", Busby Berkeley kept up with his trademark geometric shaping of the people onstage. He kept the soldiers in lines or arches. He deviated from his usual styling in that he kept the pretty girls to a minimum; when the camera moves from Carol up to the women in the windows, they are definitely not the typical "dancer/actress/singer". From there through most of the rest of the number, he keeps the focus on the men; in that era, the men who were supposed to be the breadwinners were the ones standing in the unemployment lines. The use of Carol and the other women (including the unseen baby behind the blanket held by the nursing mother) was a way of taking the public eye off the monotonous lines of men, easily dismissed as good-for-nothing or lazy, and focusing in on the hungry women and families behind them.

I believe this post is quite long enough (and branches in too many directions already) so I will leave it at that.