A Christmas Classic of Corn
But a big favorite of mine...
My pal Lee posted something last week about the relatively early onslaught of Christmas movies and specials crowding their way onto TV, and, in general, I agree with him. If it starts before Thanksgiving, it's going to get way beyond old by Epiphany. But I have to admit that last weekend--only the first weekend in December--one of my favorite holiday movies came on, and I watched it from beginning to end, tearing up at appropriate times. That movie is about as cornball as they come, but it's a classic as far as I'm concerned:
White Christmas.
Now, a lot of my affection for this movie is due to nostalgia. From junior high on up through high school, my best friend Barb and I (and, for a while, until she drifted away from our then trio of friends, our third musketeer, Chibbie) used to gather at one or the other's home for a sleepover the night White Christmas came on TV. We loved it, yes. But it was more than that. We loved to make fun of it too. It was, well... there's no getting around it... it was corny. But beautiful. Enticing, saturated technicolor. Crazy dance numbers. Songs that, for the most part, transcended their disadvantage of being from our parents' trove of Christmas albums and such.
The film was formative.
For one thing, over the years, Barb and I perfected our own version of the Haynes Sisters' song and dance number entitled--you guessed it!--"Sisters."
Now Barb and her sister Beth do the number, as they have many more opportunities than Barb and I at this point in time, but back in the day, we wowed 'em at the Junior Variety Show!
Another thing that has always fascinated me about the film is the very, very, very skinny Vera-Ellen--the one who plays the younger Haynes sister, the one who falls for Danny Kaye. Even in the sixties when Twiggy was the ideal, this gal needed to get some meat on her bones.
I mean, look at that waist (if the picture isn't too small--these thumbnails pixilate all too easily). Did she have a couple of ribs removed or something? (Actually, while trying to find some pictures online, I ran into a fan site that said she was anorexic when this movie filmed, and that, if you notice, all of her costumes have high necklines to hide the loose skin that resulted from her excessive weight loss. Sad, really. But in all my years of watching the movie over and over and over, I never copped to the neckline thing.)
No, the thing that stuck with me year in and year out was her tap-dancing on the extremely corny "art" piece, "Choreography." First, check out Danny Kaye, looking quite light in the loafers. (Not that there's anything wrong with that...):
But the REAL star of the number is Vera-Ellen's toe. I had never seen anyone with such control over a digit. She descends from the ceiling, toe pointed stageward, and the moment said toe hits the boards, it's tapping out a staccato so swift that it might as well be automatic weapon fire. Even before I took tap classes (inspired, in no small part, by Vera-Ellen's virtuousity), I knew that this had to be pretty damned hard to do. Is it even possible? Is this really nothing more than Hermes Pan (or some other tapper or Foley artist) producing the amazing tap sounds in a studio somewhere far from the White Christmas soundstage? Could be. But I cling to the belief that it's all her. Alas, I could not find a picture of her toe in all its glory, but I did find a publicity shot of the number itself, with her in it:
I also recall thinking, back in the day, how mean the directors/producers/casting agents were to pair poor, bovine Rosemary Clooney with Miss "I'm missing a rib or two" Vera-Ellen. I remember thinking that Rosemary was fat. Through the years, though, upon repeated viewings and my own foray into middle age (and middle-aged spread), I have come to realize that she is NOT fat. Not by a longshot:
In fact, I wouldn't mind being so zaftig... Although if you know the movie and the song she's singing in the still above ("Love, You Didn't Do Right by Me"), you know that the problem most likely wasn't that love sent a "Joe with winter and snow in his heart" to her, but that love sent four lithe boys to dance around her and give each other the eye as she sang about how cold they were. (Not that there's anything wrong with that....)
At any rate, I love this movie, corny as it is. Last weekend found me glued to the set, marveling at Vera-Ellen's toe, weeping as the troops march in to honor the old general, and gasping at the snowy finale, even though I've seen the thing so many times that I know just about every line.
And, since I now OWN it, I can watch it several more times during the holiday season, which, along with my repeated watchings of Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol is guaranteed to drive Jeff nuts. But what the hey--he'll love me all the more for it, right?
After all, Lord help the mister who comes between me and my sister, and Lord help the sister who comes between me and my MAN!
My pal Lee posted something last week about the relatively early onslaught of Christmas movies and specials crowding their way onto TV, and, in general, I agree with him. If it starts before Thanksgiving, it's going to get way beyond old by Epiphany. But I have to admit that last weekend--only the first weekend in December--one of my favorite holiday movies came on, and I watched it from beginning to end, tearing up at appropriate times. That movie is about as cornball as they come, but it's a classic as far as I'm concerned:
White Christmas.
Now, a lot of my affection for this movie is due to nostalgia. From junior high on up through high school, my best friend Barb and I (and, for a while, until she drifted away from our then trio of friends, our third musketeer, Chibbie) used to gather at one or the other's home for a sleepover the night White Christmas came on TV. We loved it, yes. But it was more than that. We loved to make fun of it too. It was, well... there's no getting around it... it was corny. But beautiful. Enticing, saturated technicolor. Crazy dance numbers. Songs that, for the most part, transcended their disadvantage of being from our parents' trove of Christmas albums and such.
The film was formative.
For one thing, over the years, Barb and I perfected our own version of the Haynes Sisters' song and dance number entitled--you guessed it!--"Sisters."
Now Barb and her sister Beth do the number, as they have many more opportunities than Barb and I at this point in time, but back in the day, we wowed 'em at the Junior Variety Show!
Another thing that has always fascinated me about the film is the very, very, very skinny Vera-Ellen--the one who plays the younger Haynes sister, the one who falls for Danny Kaye. Even in the sixties when Twiggy was the ideal, this gal needed to get some meat on her bones.
I mean, look at that waist (if the picture isn't too small--these thumbnails pixilate all too easily). Did she have a couple of ribs removed or something? (Actually, while trying to find some pictures online, I ran into a fan site that said she was anorexic when this movie filmed, and that, if you notice, all of her costumes have high necklines to hide the loose skin that resulted from her excessive weight loss. Sad, really. But in all my years of watching the movie over and over and over, I never copped to the neckline thing.)
No, the thing that stuck with me year in and year out was her tap-dancing on the extremely corny "art" piece, "Choreography." First, check out Danny Kaye, looking quite light in the loafers. (Not that there's anything wrong with that...):
But the REAL star of the number is Vera-Ellen's toe. I had never seen anyone with such control over a digit. She descends from the ceiling, toe pointed stageward, and the moment said toe hits the boards, it's tapping out a staccato so swift that it might as well be automatic weapon fire. Even before I took tap classes (inspired, in no small part, by Vera-Ellen's virtuousity), I knew that this had to be pretty damned hard to do. Is it even possible? Is this really nothing more than Hermes Pan (or some other tapper or Foley artist) producing the amazing tap sounds in a studio somewhere far from the White Christmas soundstage? Could be. But I cling to the belief that it's all her. Alas, I could not find a picture of her toe in all its glory, but I did find a publicity shot of the number itself, with her in it:
I also recall thinking, back in the day, how mean the directors/producers/casting agents were to pair poor, bovine Rosemary Clooney with Miss "I'm missing a rib or two" Vera-Ellen. I remember thinking that Rosemary was fat. Through the years, though, upon repeated viewings and my own foray into middle age (and middle-aged spread), I have come to realize that she is NOT fat. Not by a longshot:
In fact, I wouldn't mind being so zaftig... Although if you know the movie and the song she's singing in the still above ("Love, You Didn't Do Right by Me"), you know that the problem most likely wasn't that love sent a "Joe with winter and snow in his heart" to her, but that love sent four lithe boys to dance around her and give each other the eye as she sang about how cold they were. (Not that there's anything wrong with that....)
At any rate, I love this movie, corny as it is. Last weekend found me glued to the set, marveling at Vera-Ellen's toe, weeping as the troops march in to honor the old general, and gasping at the snowy finale, even though I've seen the thing so many times that I know just about every line.
And, since I now OWN it, I can watch it several more times during the holiday season, which, along with my repeated watchings of Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol is guaranteed to drive Jeff nuts. But what the hey--he'll love me all the more for it, right?
After all, Lord help the mister who comes between me and my sister, and Lord help the sister who comes between me and my MAN!
posted by Cathy VanPatten at 10:38 PM
6 Comments:
Hi Erin--you hit the nail on the head. It IS cheesy, and that is its charm!
Way cool!! I've been to the WMH, and it was quite a fascinating tour. I don't know if the place is haunted, but it is extremely wacky. The part I found the most interesting and most likely to be haunted if, indeed, such states as haunting exist, were the rooms that were damaged in the '06 earthquake--her bedroom and a sitting room and one or two others as I recall. She left them and never returned, and they are still damaged, with holes where the plaster came down, exposing the lathe, etc.
When I went, they were playing down the spooky aspect and touting it as a historical place. The guide got rather miffed when anyone tried to get her to talk about ghosts, other than Sarah Winchester's penchant for seances and how the spirits guided her in building. It looks as if they might be veering toward the ghost thing again which, in my road-tripping, tourist-trap-loving opinion, is a good thing.
Darling!
White Christmas IS the holiday movie of all time. I know every line, song, dance..... and that's just frightening. But just as Jeff loves you all the more, Charlie does, too. (And we'll keep telling ourselves that!) I think the last picture you posted looks just like we do. I think my blue dress is in storage. I'll get it out the next time you're home.
And Mr. Magoo! One of my favorite parts of that show is the old toothless (or one tooth) hag singing "La, la, la. la, la, la, la!" Ah, memories.......
And I have your Christmas prize - for once BEFORE Christmas - so I'm gonna ship it out to you. You're gonna love it. It's so cool, I had to get one for me, too! Ha!
Kisses,
Barbie
Hello, DARLING!
Yes--my lovely blue dress is up in mothballs too. I'm afraid the fan fell to fluffy pieces years ago though... Heh!
Good old Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol. Jeff simply marvels that I can dissolve into tears over "Winter Was Warm" and "I'm All Alone in the World," year after year. And--I kid you not--I always cry at the big finale, with the whole Cratchit family clapping and happy that they now have a seemingly unlimited supply of razzleberry dressing and wooflejelly cake. Wah!
Your birthday prize is now complete, but I'll probably end up sending it with the rest of the Christmas prizes... It will be wrapped in birthday paper, though... just so you know!
What can I say? I'm easily marveled.
And what can I say, but that you are MARVELOUS!!!
Big kiss!!
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