IMPRISON TRAITOR, PEDOPHILE, AND CONVICTED FELON TRUMP.

Thursday, January 15, 2026

The Impatient Years (1944)


The Impatient Years
(1944) is an example of the kind of movie that is hardly ever made anymore, but was a staple of Hollywood’s heyday: current events.  In this case, the consequences of a hasty wartime romance, a quickie marriage and a baby – but when the couple are reunited when the soldier returns Stateside, they discover they are strangers.

(By the way, have a look at the "A" sticker on the car windshield in the picture above - and have a look at this previous post on gas rationing as depicted in the movies of World War II here.)

It’s a comedy, but it’s also a poignant and even rather sad take on what was a common problem as the divorce rate soared in the post-war years.  Even for those couples choosing to stay together, it was often a tough adjustment.  In a real sense, there was no getting back to “normal.”  There was only a mature and resigned acceptance that adapting to a new life was the only course.  Both husband and wife would have become different people in the meantime, due to their wartime experiences.


Jean Arthur is the lady, and she brings her trademark comic chops and intelligent silliness to the role of a young woman, repeatedly described by her father as a “nice girl,” so that we wouldn’t mistake her marrying a soldier almost the moment she met him as indicative of a “V-girl.”  “But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t brought up right…it was wartime and they fell in love.” 

Now, however, waiting with her father at the bus station to welcome home her soldier husband on medical leave, she’s as nervous as a cat and clearly uncomfortable with the idea of being married to somebody she knew only for four days.


Lee Bowman plays her husband, home on temporary medical leave.  He’s just as uncomfortable with Jean as she is with him, more so because he is coming home not only to a wife he barely remembers, but to a father-in-law he’s never met, and must try to make himself at home in a house he’s never been to and is already crowded.

Charles Coburn is Jean’s father, reprising a similar role of curmudgeonly matchmaking as he did in The More the Merrier (1943) of the previous year.  In fact, you’ll notice his “The Torpedo Song” of that movie being reprised as a theme for his character in The Impatient Years every time Coburn enters a scene.  He is the voice of common sense, trying to get his daughter and son-in-law to give each other a chance before they divorce – the movie starts in divorce court and the plot is then revealed in flashback.


There are two more people in the house who are strangers to Lee Bowman, one is his infant son, in whom he is delighted, but nervous as to how to hold him.   He has seen only pictures, and is disappointed to have missed his first words – which include “Mama,” and “Henry.”

Henry, played by Phil Brown, is the other stranger, a boarder in the house.  He is a young man who has been immensely helpful with the baby and who regards Jean and the baby as his surrogate family.  A proper fellow who enjoys the routine around the baby that Jean Arthur has established for the home, Henry, as Charles Coburn remarks to Lee Bowman, “He’s a very fine young man.  You’re going to get very sick of him.”

And we see why, but I feel rather sorry for poor Henry, usurped by the baby’s real father.  Despite his late-hour, petulant confession to Jean Arthur that he is in love with her, he stands no chance.  Yet there he is, in Jean’s room, soothing the baby while she goes to warm up the bottle of milk, with Lee Bowman staggering around, trying to find a place to hang up his uniform.  


When Jean returns and the baby is settled, Bowman asks casually, “You finally got him in bed?” and we know that her uneasy reply of “yes,” just short of a double-take is because at that moment, they are both thinking of Henry.  It is one of a few clever double meanings in this script.

As I remarked in the post on her work in The More the Merrier: “Miss Arthur makes this brittle woman interesting, and lovably obtuse.”  One could say the same for her character here in The Impatient Years, except that here she is slightly more irritable as a means of defense.  Her skittishness, and his own being baffled by the strange surroundings and stranger family, Lee Bowman nonchalantly decides to sleep on the floor, giving the excuse that he is not used to a bed after rugged Army life.  It is a gallant move to put his wife at ease, though we can see that she might also take it as an insult.  He ruefully remarks of the baby in the crib next to her bed, “I think he’d be ashamed of his old man.”  It is both self-deprecating and a shaft of conscience to Jean Arthur.


But they quickly get on each other’s nerves the next day and decide to call their marriage quits.  We are brought back to the courtroom scene where Charles Coburn, in an attempt to force them to get to know each other as a way to avoid divorce, suggests to the judge, played by Edgar Buchanan, that they be required to re-live the four days of their courtship that led to their marriage.  Judge Buchanan remarks, “You boys and girls think it’s very romantic to get married just because it is wartime.  You don’t stop to think for a minute that there’s going to be an after the war time, with a whole long life to be lived together.”  Yes, if they're lucky.


It is an admonishment to the young lovers in the audience, and it is a daffy screwball comedy turn in the great tradition of that era, and so we have our second half of the movie as the now bickering couple find themselves in the scenes of their hasty courtship in San Francisco, revisiting the same restaurants, tourist sights, hotel, and marriage license office, leaving confused desk clerks in their wake.  As Miss Arthur grumbles about a marriage license clerk who does not understand that they need to fill out a marriage license to get a divorce, “For heaven’s sake, if he’s going to be so stupid, let’s go.”


Ironically, it is their very spatting like an old married couple that brings them closer together, along with reliving the scenes of their romance and being away from Pop, the baby, the crowded house, her regimentation with household chores, and Henry. 

Because they need to follow through on the judge’s orders, they kiss, but only to avoid committing perjury.  But aha, there’s a glimmer of falling in love again.



Grant Mitchell plays a befuddled hotel desk clerk very concerned about Jean Arthur’s welfare when he thinks Lee Bowman is not only a wolf, but mentally unstable; and Charley Grapewin is the world’s oldest bellboy.  


He loyally sits outside Jean’s door all night to protect her, and humors Lee Bowman when Lee says “I love you,” meaning this is the message he was trying to tap in their old code on the wall of Jean’s adjoining room.  Charley thinks Lee loves him.


When sailor Frank “The Old Magoo” Jenks cuts in at a hotel dance, we see Lee Bowman getting jealous, to Jean’s delight.  But she saves Bowman from the MPs by vouching he is her husband and takes him firmly by the arm, “C’mon, darling.”


Finally, they trek to the house of the minister who married them.  He is Harry Davenport, and his sweet wife is Jane Darwell.  She remembers the couple, and the old folks are thrilled that a couple married in their livingroom, for once, came back to visit them.  It is not a screwball moment, but a very sober example of what a long and dedicated marriage is, and Mr. Bowman and Miss Arthur feel somewhat shamefaced at their fecklessness.


Afterward, they end up at the place where they had their wedding dinner—a Chinese restaurant where the vocalist is Bob Haymes, actor and singer Dick Haymes’ younger brother.  I’m not sure the point of this interlude of him singing at their table, except to give the up-and-coming fellow a bit of screen time. He has a nice voice.  But the dinner is where they really relive their wedding night—Jean becomes ill on fried shrimp, just as she did the first time.


The hotel clerk and his erstwhile bellboy are on the alert when Bowman must carry her up the stairs and she blithely announces her husband has poisoned her.  Charles Coburn and poor Henry arrive at the 11th hour with a telegram ordering Bowman to the military hospital for his end-of-furlough checkup. 

It now appears that since their trial courtship is over and Bowman is ordered back to active duty, there’s nothing to keep them together anymore. 

In a sweet ending, however, Jean returns to her father’s house to reunite with her baby and discovers Bowman there, playing with him on the floor.  Miracle of miracles—the little boy takes his first steps to Daddy, and Jean is overcome with emotion.  She wants the toddler to walk to her next, and Bowman asks, “Can I come too?”

We have our happy ending, except for Henry, of course.  He's out of luck.


The movie, while not packing a punch like The More the Merrier, has some good moments, and it is particularly noteworthy that the screenwriter and associate producer for the film was Virginia Van Upp (1902-1970) – a child actress in silent films, later a script writer, producer, film editor, casting director, agent – pretty much a Hollywood jack-of-all-trades, unusual for a woman at that time.  (And is this a swell photo or what?) She had been brought over from Paramount to Columbia for Cover Girl rewrites that same year by studio boss Harry Cohn.  Lee Bowman also appeared in that film.

Speaking of the studio boss, The Impatient Years was Jean Arthur’s last film for Columbia under her much-hated contract with much-hated Harry Cohn.  She was free at last, and the wonderful A Foreign Affair (1948) here, and Shane (1953), discussed here, were ahead of her.

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My new non-fiction book, CHILDREN'S WARTIME ADVENTURE NOVELS - The Silent Generation's Vicarious Experience of World War II -- is now available in eBook here at Barnes & Noble, Apple, Kobo, and a wide variety of other online shops.

Or here from my Shopify store if you want to buy direct from me and avoid the big companies.

And it is here in eBook, paperback print, and hardcover, from Amazon.

It is also here in paperback from Ingram.

And here in hardcover from Ingram.

From Cherry Ames, to Meet the Malones, from Dave Dawson to Kitty Carter - Canteen Girl, the Silent Generation spent their childhood immersed in geopolitical events through the prism of their middle grade and young adult books.  From the home front to the battlefield, these books are a window on their world, and influenced their hard-working, conformity-loving generation. 

Buy this or any of my books online here at Bookshop.org.

Tuesday, January 6, 2026

5th Anniversary of Treason and a Failed Coup

Never forget January 6th.  Hold it in the same vein of warning, mourning, and determination to right the wrong as we do with September 11th or December 7th.  It might even be more important, as the enemy within is more dangerous to our democracy.

The morons who were whipped to a frenzy to attack the Capitol, assault police, threaten to kill the Vice President and several in our government, and as if to punctuate their disgusting nature, to defecate in the halls of that hallowed building that President Abraham Lincoln was determined to finish even during the Civil War as a symbol of our survival as a nation -- they have been pardoned by the Felon, the lead traitor.

Now it's time to pursue him and the others who orchestrated the conspiracy, the ones who engineered the attack.  Be a patriot and watch Special Prosecutor Jack Smith's testimony.  Push your government to prosecute the traitors.

Thursday, January 1, 2026

Public Domain Day - 2026


Welcome to 2026, and our annual celebration of Public Domain Day!

This year, movies from 1930 that are now in public domain include:

Betty Boop’s first cartoon Dizzy Dishes, and several more Mickey Mouse cartoons


All Quiet on the Western Front

Animal Crackers – starring the Marx Brothers in their second film.


In King of Jazz, in which, as the Center for the Study of Public Domain, Duke Law Center astutely notes: a man gets drunk and stammers: “You know what’s the matter with this country? It’s a tariff! That’s who!”, referring to the 1930 Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act that worsened the Great Depression and eerily reflects our own troubled times.


Morocco
with Gary Cooper and Marlene Dietrich


The Blue Angel,
likewise, with Marlene Dietrich in her breakout role, introducing her to American audiences.

Hell’s Angels – Jean Harlow’s first film


The Big Trail
– John Wayne’s first feature role, though his stardom would wait until later in the decade.


Free and Easy
– Buster Keaton’s first speaking role and singing role. 

For more on the movies, books, music, and art of 1929 that now enters public domain, have a look at this Center for the Study of Public Domain, part of the Duke Law Center website.

Here's a look at past posts on movies entering public domain:

Another Old Movie Blog: Public Domain Day - 2025

Another Old Movie Blog: Public Domain Day - 2024

Another Old Movie Blog: Public Domain Day - 2023

Another Old Movie Blog: Public Domain Day - 2022

Another Old Movie Blog: Public Domain Day - 2021

Another Old Movie Blog: Public Domain Day - 2020

 

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My new non-fiction book, CHILDREN'S WARTIME ADVENTURE NOVELS - The Silent Generation's Vicarious Experience of World War II -- is now available in eBook here at Barnes & Noble, Apple, Kobo, and a wide variety of other online shops.

Or here from my Shopify store if you want to buy direct from me and avoid the big companies.

And it is here in eBook, paperback print, and hardcover, from Amazon.

It is also here in paperback from Ingram.

And here in hardcover from Ingram.

From Cherry Ames, to Meet the Malones, from Dave Dawson to Kitty Carter - Canteen Girl, the Silent Generation spent their childhood immersed in geopolitical events through the prism of their middle grade and young adult books.  From the home front to the battlefield, these books are a window on their world, and influenced their hard-working, conformity-loving generation. 

 

 

Tuesday, December 30, 2025

Happy New Year!


 

Thank you for the pleasure of your company.  Ginger Rogers, David Niven, and I (not pictured -- I must have been parking the car) wish you all a very Happy New Year!

Thursday, December 25, 2025

Stars Caricatured in Christmas Television Cartoons


Classic film stars have been caricatured in many animated cartoons, even Christmas cartoons as noted in this previous post of Toyland Premiere (1934).  But the made-for-television holiday cartoons of Rankin/Bass utilized caricatures of stars of Hollywood’s heyday not for satire or even humor, but to lend cachet to their well-scrubbed retellings of pop Christmas folklore.


While not all classic film stars who voiced animated characters had their likenesses caricatured in the cartoon – Mickey Rooney, for instance, in the several times he voiced Santa Claus (The Year Without a Santa Claus – 1974, Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town – 1970, and Rudolph and Frosty’s Christmas in July – 1979) Santa never looked like Mickey Rooney.  I suppose Santa Claus is too well-known (or perhaps, trademarked?) to look like Mickey Rooney.


But Fred Astaire, playing a generic mailman character in Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town is okay to look like a caricature of Fred Astaire, likewise Red Buttons as the ice cream man in Rudolph and Frosty’s Christmas in July – which also gave us a stupendously (or perhaps stupefying is the word) over-the-top Ethel Merman who runs a carnival show.  It’s a lumbering feature cartoon with no discernable point, but Hal Peary has his last role as a whale, with a Great Gildersleeve giggle.  I find that endearing.

These cartoons were all animated with the mesmerizing stop-motion photography of jerky movements and stiff portrayals, literally.

There were two Christmas cartoons of my childhood which were especially profound for me, first Mr. Magoo’s Christmas Carol (1962), which I’ve mentioned before in this previous post. Definitely NOT stop-motion photography here. Jim Backus owned the role of Mr. Magoo so thoroughly and was my introduction to Dickens at the tender age of probably three. 


The second cartoon that was really meaningful to me was The Little Drummer Boy (1968).  Like the other Rankin/Bass cartoons mentioned above, this also featured stop-motion photography (and all the cartoons are musicals) and told the story of an orphaned boy during the time of the Nativity who hates people because his parents were killed by bandits, and finds healing with the power of love.  I was fascinated by the scenes of ancient Judea, of narrow streets, endless desert dunes, and the people who came to their ancestral cities to be taxed by the Roman emperor.  Even as a six or seven-year-old, stories about real people interested me more than fairy tales about snowmen or Heat Miser (though I still know the words to that song).


Jose Ferrer (not caricatured) plays a rogue, a carnival showman who enslaves the orphan boy when he discovers the boy can sing and play a drum and charm animals into dancing.  The showman thinks he can make a bundle off the kid.  (Painting a phony smile on the kid's face horrified me as a child.) He even sells the boy’s cherished camel to one of the Wise Men, and the boy is even more furious and heartbroken.  


The boy follows the Star as the Three Kings are doing so that he can catch up to them and get his camel.  But then a Roman centurion charges by on his chariot like an ICE thug and runs over the boy’s other little friend, a lamb.  We suspect if he’d had a Taser, he’d have used it just for the thrill of cruelty.  Authoritarian governments haven’t changed in thousands of years.  This boy has suffered so much in this cartoon, we can barely take any more at this point.

One of the Three Kings tells the boy to appeal to the Baby Jesus for help, and here we have our opening to the song (cue Vienna Boys Choir) “The Little Drummer Boy” and “I have to no gift to bring…shall I play for him?”  Though the stop-motion photography is just as jerky and crude as in the other cartoons, the story here is deeper, and the thoughtful, contemplative telling of it leaves a greater impression.  This cartoon, for me, was also notable for introducing me to Greer Garson.

Miss Garson is an unseen narrator and is credited as “Our Storyteller.”  Her rich, cultured voice is soothing and enchanting, and we are carried through time and space in her opening, “And it came to pass that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed…”


When the boy’s heart is touched by the pure love of the Infant, and his lamb is healed, Greer tells us, “He realized the hate he carried there was wrong, as all hatred will ever be wrong.”

It would be many years before I discovered Mrs. Miniver or Pride and Prejudice, so The Little Drummer Boy was my introduction to Greer Garson, or at least her beautiful speaking voice.

Perhaps a cartoon Greer in caricature would have lessened the gravitas of the story, but I think I would have liked to have seen Our Storyteller.  A woman in such a serious, venerable role would have been inspiring.

But to depict her in caricature or not?  Hmm.

Wishing a peaceful and happy Christmas to all who celebrate.


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GIFTS FOR THE CLASSIC FILM FAN!!!!!!!



Christmas in Classic Films
 
provides a roster of old movies with scenes to conjure Christmas of days gone by.  Makes a nice gift, if you know an old movie buff, or if you just like to give presents to yourself.  

The paperback is available at Amazon, but also here at Barnes & Noble.

The hardcover, so far, is available only at Amazon.

Here are a few other classic movie books I've written for your gift-giving pleasure:


Ann Blyth: Actress. Singer. Star. - for sale in paperback and hardcover at Amazon,

And in paperback and hardcover here at Ingram,

And in paperback and hardcover here at Barnes & Noble.

And in paperback here at Walmart.



Hollywood Fights Fascism 
-  here in paperback at Amazon.





Movies in Our Time - 
here in paperback at Amazon.

And all of these books are available as well at my page on Bookshop.org, which helps support independent bookstores.


 

 

 

 

 

  

Thursday, December 18, 2025

The Holly and the Ivy - 1952


The Holly and the Ivy
(1952) brings together a stellar cast in the simplest of settings: a country church parsonage, but against the backdrop of a family reunion made anxious by unresolved issues.  It is Christmas, when the ethereal joyous aspects of the holiday fight all-too-human depression, where a need to mend ties is hampered by resentment of those ties.  The movie is a British production in a decidedly good old English story, but the theme and the feelings are universal to any culture.


The British seem to have mastered Christmas, giving us many of our customs, our carols, and inasmuch as Dickens has provided our most treasured allegorical Christmas theme of modern redemption in the form of A Christmas Carol.  The Holly and the Ivy also gives us redemption, in a much softer manner: Ebeneezer Scrooge had a restless night with three ghosts to take him backward and forward decades in time to learn his lesson, but while it takes the Greogry family roughly the same overnight Christmas Eve hours to ride a storm and emerge the better for it on Christmas Day, their challenges are easier to overcome, with a little understanding.

One of the criticisms of the movie seems to be that it does not deal in depth with the characters’ problems and motivations.  That’s usually a fair complaint, but in this movie, I think the brief sketch we are given is enough.  Certainly, animosity between family members is not always due to complex reasons or ferocious events; quite often it stems from ordinary misunderstanding and miscommunication.  We are not mind readers, and that is sometimes our biggest hurdle in human relationships.  We rarely forgive each other for it.


Sir Ralph Richardson plays a clergyman running a rural church in the county of Norfolk, the part of England bordering the North Sea known as East Anglia.  He was originally from Ireland, but settled into his assignment in this parish as a young man.  The parsonage may be a simple home, but the church is described as a venerable edifice from the 14th century.  We don’t see much of the church, just a few Currier and Ives-type shots of a snowy village church that belong on a Christmas card—a comforting and inspiring illusion.

Sir Ralph is elderly, a bit of an absent-minded professor, with a cheerful nature and a kind heart, but may overpower his family with his chatty enthusiasm that won’t let them get a word in edgewise and that serves as a barrier to them ever piercing his optimistic armor with their nagging problems.

He is a widower, having lost his wife earlier in the year.  One criticism I would make is that we don’t know enough about her and her influence on her family and their sense of loss and grief, but the kids’ issue is really Pop.  

Every Christmas, he extends invitations to his sister, his wife’s sister and brother, and to his three grown children to gather at the parsonage for Christmas Eve.  The movie opens with the ebullient carol, “The Holly and the Ivy,” and the family receiving their invitations and deciding whether or not to come—all but Celia Johnson, who plays his eldest child, who still lives at home and runs the household for her father.  We’ll come back to her.


The first invitation comes to his sister-in-law played by Margaret Halston, herself a childless widow who lives in a residential hotel.  She hopefully collects her mail at the front desk and happily sees the envelope from her brother-in-law, anticipating it to be the annual invitation to spend Christmas with his family.  The desk clerk asks if she’ll be remaining in the hotel for Christmas, as they have some refreshments planned to cheer up those with nowhere to go.  When Miss Halston opens her invitation and reads it, she triumphantly responds, “No, I shall not be here for Christmas.”  Her eyes shine with anticipation and relief that is touching and sad. 

Like Sir Ralph, she is also elderly, playing a kind aunt, appearing at first to be somewhat dotty, but through her fey appearance, we come to see she is wise, intuitive, and with a generous heart.


The other aunt, Sir Ralph’s Irish sister who has not lost her Dublin accent, is played by Maureen Delany.  She is a spinster, renting a room that is far simpler than Miss Halston’s lodgings, denoting her reduced circumstances.  She is blunt, occasionally rude, and quite funny.  She delivers frankness with a deadpan expression, and if her standards are rarely met to her satisfaction, we may realize that that is not really her greatest disappointment; she rather enjoys human failings after a fashion.  However, she does carry a regret that has hampered her happiness and even brought about her reduced financial circumstances:  she, like Celia Johnson, remained at home to care for her elderly parents and lost the chance to have a life of her own by putting them first.  She and Aunt Margaret Halston have become friends through these annual Christmas visits, and Miss Halston even gives up her first class train carriage to sit with Miss Delany in third class so they can catch up.

Hugh Williams plays an uncle reading his invitation in a pub with friends around discussing his Christmas plans.  He is one character I would like to know more about, as there is some great depth of understanding about him.  He is godfather to the younger daughter, played by Margaret Leighton, whom we only hear discussed but do not see until the movie is halfway through.  He makes special effort to contact his niece, Miss Leighton, to get her to go to the family gathering, but we are told she is very busy with her career as a fashion journalist.  There is more to his concern for her, but we shall see that soon.


There is something poignant in him, this dapper career army officer with the trim mustache, when his mates remark that it must be boring to visit a country parson for Christmas, but Mr. Williams confides that he once wanted to be a clergyman.  When he was a young man, his father offered him two choices: go into the army or to the church.  When Williams replied he wanted to become a clergyman, his father laughed at him, “and I found myself at Sandhurst.”  Sandhurst, of course, is the British military academy.

Fathers have a lot to answer for in this movie, as one way or another, they are the deciders of their children’s futures.


The last member of the family is currently in the British army, too, but he is a lowly enlisted man fulfilling his couple of years of “national service.”  He is Sir Ralph’s son, played by Denholm Elliot, and he also has a choice waiting for him when his service is completed.  His father is saving his meager clergyman’s salary to send his son to Cambridge University, but Mr. Elliot, a roguish, boyish scamp, wants nothing to do with higher education when he gets out of the army.  He doesn’t seem to know how to tell his father.  There are many strong and wistful characters in the movie, but Elliot just seems weak, and maybe that happens when so many about one are strong.


Now we come to Celia Johnson, busily decorating (with holly branches) and cooking and preparing for the family Christmas. We might expect her to be a sentimental homebody, but there is a hard edge to her that suggests something more under the surface.  Though she dotes on her father and briskly handles the hostess duties for this family holiday, she seems to steel herself with a resolute sense of duty, rather than enjoying her position in the family. 


She has a problem.  Unknown to her family, she has a fiancé, played by John Gregson.  He is an engineer, and has a job lined up in South America for the next five years and wants to take her with him.  They are not children; they are in their thirties, their lives been on hold for many years due to her late mother’s illness, passing, and her father’s needing her.  She turns him down, but Mr. Gregson continues to implore her to reconsider.  He thinks her younger sister should take a turn at looking after the old man.  Naturally, no one considers the son to be an appropriate caregiver; he has an education, a career, and one day, a family of his own to pursue, as is the prerogative of male children.

“I don’t know what I’d do without her,” her father exclaims more than once, meaning it to be a compliment, but we flinch, as she does, because it is a burden.

The guests arrive, and the uncle, Hugh Williams, explains Margaret Leighton’s absence with the excuse that she has the flu.  That is a lie, and he will feel foolish when she finally arrives by herself.


She is a sophisticated Londoner now, a professional.  Her father admires her success and takes an interest in her work, fusses over her when she comes home, but she is distant with everybody except Uncle Hugh, with whom she appears to have a comfortable relationship.  He knows her secret, but protects her privacy.

Aunt Maureen Delany, with her caustic Irish manner of being funny without realizing it, scoffs at Celia Johnson’s sacrificing her future to care for her father, reminding her that she did the same and regrets it.  “There I was stuck looking after me mother until I’m 45 and my figure gone.”

Celia Johnson, considering the holly branch in her hand, notes it has a bitter smell when broken, as in the song, “bitter as any gall.”


The aunts feel the father should retire, move to smaller digs that would enable him to care for himself, thereby sparing Ceilia any further responsibility for him, but Sir Ralph, who does not know about his daughter’s fiancé or his son’s wish to not go to university, has no intention of retiring.  He feels vital and vibrant still, despite always needing someone to hand him his galoshes.  Yet, he also has regrets about his work.

He knows that during his Christmas sermon, one of thousands he has written in his lifetime, his congregation would rather be home, “basting the Christmas goose.”


Meanwhile in the kitchen, the sisters have a showdown while washing dishes.  Celia comes out with her problem and asks her sister to stay and look after Pop, but Miss Leighton refuses. 

Celia observes, “You’ve grown hard.”

Margaret replies, “Life does change people.”

Celia notices that her sister is not happy, and finally gets her secret from her.  Miss Leighton had an American lover during the war, and he was killed.  She was pregnant.  The mores of the day made coming home to her parents with this problem difficult for her, but worse, she felt, since her father was a minister.

Her child was born, and she kept him and raised him with the help of a friend in the city.  She named her baby boy Simon, and apparently enjoyed motherhood even as she kept the secret from her family.  Simon died six months earlier, just before her mother, of meningitis. 

Coping with this heartache meant drinking, and Uncle Hugh kept both secrets from the clan, letting Margaret lean on him when she chose. 

Celia Johnson is surprised and moved, and understands the awkwardness of telling their father.  Margaret remarks offhandedly, “He thinks of me as someone I no longer am.”

Christmas and its preparations are painful for her, and yet something has brought her home.  Perhaps it is no longer needing to hide Simon.


As cranky as Aunt Maureen Delany is, she’s the one to answer the door to carolers and drops coins in their box. 

As the older relatives settle for a quiet Christmas Eve night around the fire and each other’s company, Margaret Leighton and brother Denholm Elliot head out for the movies, which dour Aunt Maureen thinks is scandalous, and even Sir Ralph sheds some of his affability by remarking with disgust that the cinema has more influence in the lives of people than the church does.

Later on, son and daughter both return drunk.  They have not gone to the cinema.  Margaret Leighton passes out on the floor, and Denholm Elliot has found the courage from the bottle to shout at his father and accuse him of being someone who cannot be told the truth.

The tense, dramatic scene melts into the next morning, Christmas Day, with the bachelor uncle quietly coming down the stairs with a few wrapped presents to place under the scraggly tabletop tree.  There’s something quite poignant about that, but we never get more info on the uncle.  Miss Leighton plans to leave this morning, not able to endure anymore Christmas with her family, and he will drive her to the train station. 


Denholm Elliot, no worse for wear for a night drinking, and not even particularly shamefaced about it, offers a begrudging apology to his father, and there is a nicely framed scene of their difficult discussion through the branches of the tree, with the Christmas tree between them.  Sir Ralph demands to know why he cannot be told the truth, and the son finally explains that because he is a clergyman, his children cannot come to him with their problems.  He tells Sir Ralph about Margaret’s issues and that Celia wants to get married and go to South America.

He's crushed and feels like a failure as a father, just as he has often felt ineffectual as a minister.  “I’ve been of no use to you.”


But despite what his children believe is his innocence due to a religious life, their father manfully tackles this problem and their image of him head-on.  In another nicely framed scene, he sits on the stairs with his daughter Margaret and confronts her, and expresses heartfelt sympathy and understanding for all she has experienced.  He takes charge and provides the guidance she needs and proves, as he states, “Do you think that because I’m a parson I know nothing about life?” 

He knows more than they do, and in his empathy, shows far more sophistication than his children.  As a clergyman, moreover, he is distressed that their impression of him means he has been distorting and misrepresenting religion.  He warns her not to turn her back on life. 

Margaret Leighton, suddenly as if a great weight is lifted on her shoulders, decides to stay, not only for the rest of the Christmas family holiday, but to remain with her father (one suspects he needs no one but she needs him), so that Celia Johnson can marry her beau and take off for South America.

The son seems to have no great resolution for his complaints, but perhaps they were petty after all and he just needs a little more growing up to do.  Quite possibly his bellowing sergeant may knock the self-pity out of him, if not his mischieviousness.

The end credits roll as they head off next door to church to watch the old man do his thing.  One senses it is without a sense of obligation this time, but rather a sense of pride that they gather in the back pew for a little Christmas magic.

 

Next week, Christmas Day, we’ll have a look at some Hollywood stars’ voicing 1960s and 1970s television Christmas cartoons.

 ***********************************

GIFTS FOR THE CLASSIC FILM FAN!!!!!!!



Christmas in Classic Films
 
provides a roster of old movies with scenes to conjure Christmas of days gone by.  Makes a nice gift, if you know an old movie buff, or if you just like to give presents to yourself.  

The paperback is available at Amazon, but also here at Barnes & Noble.

The hardcover, so far, is available only at Amazon.

Here are a few other classic movie books I've written for your gift-giving pleasure:


Ann Blyth: Actress. Singer. Star. - for sale in paperback and hardcover at Amazon,

And in paperback and hardcover here at Ingram,

And in paperback and hardcover here at Barnes & Noble.

And in paperback here at Walmart.



Hollywood Fights Fascism 
-  here in paperback at Amazon.





Movies in Our Time - 
here in paperback at Amazon.

And all of these books are available as well at my page on Bookshop.org, which helps support independent bookstores.


 

 

 

 

 

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