Around this time a month ago, I was called into my supervisor’s office and told that my position was being eliminated due to advances in technology and the execs looking for areas where they could cut costs. Now, thankfully, I’d had a strong intuition that this was coming sooner or later, and was expecting it to be sooner rather than later, but being laid off is still a very unpleasant business. Especially so when you work in a particular field that requires all terminated employees to gather up all their things as soon as you finish with the exit interview and paperwork WHILE SOMEONE SUPERVISES.
This person, typically a higher-up, is required to escort you out of the building. In front of everyone. Many people I’ve worked with in the past have likened it to a walk of shame. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen others go through it, most always with no notice (and for no cause) and almost always resulting in varying degrees of bitterness and/or tears. I just assumed I would have a chance to make my own move to another position before my previous one was deemed obsolete – and I will spare the bitter details of why I felt like I’d have time to do so. What I can proudly say is I managed to impress the HR manager during the exit interview for taking the news with poise he said he rarely sees. I shed a few tears only when it came time to say goodbye to a couple of coworkers. Otherwise, I bottled it all up and sang, Que Sera Sera.
The extra dagger in the back is that my previous job had (still has) an opening for another position. It is a position I could have done. It is a position I qualify for, both in terms of education and experience. They’ve offered a similar position to others with the same amount of education and experience as me who were working in another position beforehand. I received no such offer. The job is there on the site, waiting to be filled. Because apparently something about me wasn’t good enough for them. It’s not exactly the kind of thing someone with clinically-low self-esteem takes well. It’s the kind of thing that validates all of my feelings of inadequacy and incompetence.
This “whatever will be, will be” attitude eventually wore off, shifting to numbness. The question, “What now?” began growing in my mind. Obviously, I immediately submitted applications for a few new positions. Then, I took to Google to read up on tips for dealing with this foreign situation I was in. One article turned into two into three into several more until my head swam and all seemed to be saying the same thing: If you don’t get another job quickly enough, it will become more and more difficult. And don’t even think about wasting time and money to go back to school in the interim because that will make you even less hirable. Such is the economy I find myself job-searching in.
As the days crept closer and closer to today, the first month mark, with no call backs from any job prospects my faithful frenemy, anxiety began to whisper in my ear, inviting my depression to come out and play. It’s a good thing I’m on medicine for both, or else I’d be much worse off right now than I am. All the same, here I am with no clue where I’m going, what I should do, how to do it, how I’ll pay bills, and if I’ll ever find steady employment again. All this at just thirty, thanks to a broken system that I can’t do much to fix.
Today also happens to be the birthday of late Hollywood legend Myrna Loy. Myrna Loy has been a favorite actress of mine since before I even had apprehensions about high school, let alone where I can find employment before all of my savings are depleted. Myrna was as beautiful and poised and charming as they come. Indulge my inner fangirl a moment while I say, she is truly one of my queens and everything I’ve ever learned about her – such as her belief that black people deserved not to be discriminated against and that black actors should not be degraded beyond the already degrading role of a maid/servant in films (aka, she typically demanded that any black characters in her films be written with intelligence and strength and not just for laughs) – the more I’ve come to love her. If you were to ask me if I would rather Myrna or her famous co-star William Powell, who was handsome, charming, etc. in his own right, I would say Myrna before you even finished the question.
So today I’m faced with two choices, worry about the future or celebrate a figure of the past. And since I’m me, I will take neither choice and create a third for myself. I will let the hard work, self-respect, perseverance, bold, and gracious light of Myrna Loy inspire me to emulate those things myself. If she could do it in a time where women weren’t supposed to be seen as anything more than housewives or harlots, then I can do it now.
And with a little additional help from my other queen, I will remember that the future is not mine to see.
XOXO Elinor Anne James
Images found via Google’s CC search and are property of their respective owners.
Trigger warning, this movie starts off quite gruesomely. The villain of the film “kills” a lion on a hunting trip in Africa and you 1. see the lion, 2. see a gunshot and 3. see the man standing over a presumably dead lion in an image. It’s followed by much of the same, with the villain’s niece taking part in the ‘sport’, and includes: a leopard, a warthog, an elephant, and a rhino. It’s horrible, but that’s the point. And in 1950, when big game hunting was still a sport and quite a popular one among the elite, it’s a big deal. [Also, indicative of the time, a black man is actually the one skilled enough to kill the animals while the white man and his privileged niece get all the credit.]
The movie then transitions to a zoo where Commodore Parker (the aforementioned villain) and his niece Lily are presenting their trophy heads to the administration’s office as gift. Obviously, this makes no sense. Even if we also view zoos as less than ideal for the preservation of/care for wild animals nowadays, even in 1950 one would assume that it’s common sense that a place that’s a habitat for animals shouldn’t have the trophy heads of wild animals hanging in its offices.
Enter Kathleen Maguire (June Allyson), or Kathy, a zoo tour guide and daughter of the zoo’s superintendent Dr. Maguire, who learns from her coworkers that her father has just been fired on the very same day as the gifting ceremony of the trophy heads…because, surprise surprise, Dr. Maguire understands how terrible and hypocritical having them at the zoo is. It’s a stance Kathy shares quite adamantly, her face turning up in disgust and pity for the slaughtered animals being mounted on the walls. Of course, this is a movie about politics as much as it is social commentary so Dr. Maguire isn’t fired for his fight to get the heads taken down rather some other reason the commission has cooked up, all because Commodore Parker’s money talks louder than ethics or decency.
“Don’t be naive,” a journalist friend of the Maguires tell them in response to their confusion at how the commission could do such a thing. Over sixty years later, in a political climate where real news is at war with fake news; political corruption; and a lack of ethics or decency, this advice is still very accurate.
Quickly we see the stark difference between Dr. Maguire and his daughter. While they have the same passions and convictions, they have different approaches (explained later by Kathy as particular trait in their family). Dr. Maguire is the quiet, take the punches graciously, go through the civic process of filing a complaint, peaceful sort. Kathy has too much of a temper for that sort of thing. She wants things done and she wants those things done now. She wants her dad to fight back. She wants to take the political bull by the horn and effect change. And she’ll fight anyone who comes along that she believes deserves it, even Lily Parker herself.
Which is how she winds up in need of a lawyer and ends up crossing paths with Andrew Rockton Hale (Dick Powell), or Andy, an attorney general who has put his name on the ballot to run for mayor on the reform platform, even if he’s far from being a reformer and is currently trying to woo the Commodore Parker machine in order to secure his win – while also not wanting to give Parker any power over him (he wants to run his own machine, thank you very much).
What follows is a political romantic comedy with animals thrown in for good measure, including a plot point borrowed straight from Bringing Up Baby. I won’t give away too much of the details, but I’m sure you can guess how it goes if you haven’t seen it.
This is my favorite film costarring Allyson and Powell, but it has nothing to do with their relationship in the film. In fact, the romance could be completely taken out and I’d probably like the movie more (for a few different reasons), but as it is, it’s not even a very central part of the film. Kathy and Andy don’t spend even half of the movie together, by my count – at least not directly interacting – which is one of the reasons I would enjoy it being taken out; it feels a little unnecessary. What I am here for is Kathy, the social commentary, and a different relationship in the film.
I do so love feisty females who don’t conform to the more ideal gender standards (especially in old films) and June was a queen at playing them – even if it was the studio’s way of saying she wasn’t glamorous enough for other roles. This is very true of her turn as Kathy in the film. She’s a lovely lady with a big heart, who thinks animals should be treated humanely, that politics should be clean and open and fair (and playing the political game even for the right reasons/greater good tars you with the same brush, that reform should happen and those on the margins should be given fair shots (e.g. orphans and immigrants), and so on. But what I love about the film is that her goodwill towards animals and people has nothing to do with her being some overly-feminine type; it doesn’t utilize the stereotype that women are naturally more empathetic. The fact of the matter is, Kathy has been flying off the rails at injustice – particularly cruelty to animals – since she was a little girl. And, arguably, a major theme of the film is both aspects of her, that is both her rough edges and soft edges, rub off on Andy. He learns to actually care for the people and for animals and he grows a genuine backbone to stand up to others, including fierce lions.
“See, when I went to Sunday School I was taught thou shalt not kill. Well, as far as I’m concerned that also applies to elephants.” I agree, Kathy. I agree.
Which brings me to the next thing I love about this movie, the social commentary. Sure, it’s still 1950 and the film plays it pretty safe. It’s nothing that hadn’t been seen before, in films such as Mr. Smith Goes To Washington. But I like to think that in 1950, every film with a social conscience was one step closer to the approaching Civil Rights era and even more socially aware Hollywood of that era. Likewise, watching this film is a little bittersweet when examined side by side with the political chaos of 2017. We need Kathleen Maguires and lots of them because somewhere along the line the Parkers of this world regained the upper hand (ironically, I blame the world Reagan’s presidency gave birth to, which gets a little meta when you factor his relationship with Allyson and Powell into things). Also, the film isn’t perfect in this regards, but it does spend a small chunk of time on the importance of immigrants to America. It’s not perfect in the fact that, outside of Mexico, it focuses on white European immigrants (Hungarians, Swedes, etc.) and white-passing Mediterranean immigrants (Italians, Greeks) – and there is only the one black hunting guide at the beginning and a singular Asian-as-the-help stereotype present in the film. That said, it’s of note to consider that in 1950 even white immigrants were on the margins in white America, because the fact is when non-white people are already mostly in their place white people in power will turn against other white people they make up reasons to deem as “lesser” than themselves (and, more accurately, this happens simultaneously with their efforts to put people of color in their place, but it’s less overt so as not to lose their votes to a candidate that is not anti-poc).
Also, being an animal lover and someone who wants to see the banning of all hunting, wants to see zoos change in their formats, more wildlife reservations, etc. I one hundred percent adore any movie that takes the stance that animals deserve to be cared for.
Lastly, there’s another relationship in this film that, in my personal opinion, outshines Kathy’s and Andy’s. And that is the relationship between Andy and his law partner/campaign manager Arthur Colner Maxwell, or Artie (David Wayne). Their bromance is so strong that, arguably, it’s actually intentional homosexual subtext. While Artie is Andy’s right hand man and support throughout the film (in fact, they get just as much, if not more, screen time together as Andy and Kathy) and that includes him supporting him helping him with his romance with Kathy, he also spends a good deal of the time playing jealous lover. He orders the “cheap and stubby” roses for Kathy on behalf of Andy. And when Andy is dropped off at the apartment the two men share, and shares a kiss with Kathy, Artie’s response is: “You can wake up now. You’re home, dear.” Followed by a questioning, “What was that? *panicked voice* What was that?”
While, of course, it could be just a very strong friendship, there’s one particular exchange between Kathy and Andy that leads me to believe something more than friendship was being subtly implied (which could make sense in a movie about reform, even if I disagree that Andy would need to be reformed of that too by Kathy). In the exchange I’m referring to, Kathy (very much like June did in her pursuit of Dick) asks why Andy has never been married; given his age, surely there’s been enough women in his life for him to have considered it. Andy confirms that he’s “a man of considerable experience.” But strangely, especially considering that this is 1950, Kathy outright asks, “Women?” Obviously, that’s the only option, right? In 1950? One isn’t going to outright as a man if he’s gay in a movie… And yet, she asks for clarification if it’s women. Maybe she means to clarify if he means he’s just experienced in other worldly ways – a drifter so to speak – to the point that maybe he’s never bothered with women. But Andy’s answer to her question is even more surprising: “Some.” Some. Again, this could be taken to mean, he’s experienced in a lot of different ways, some of which includes women. Or it could mean exactly what it sounds like at face value, especially considering that he sleeps in a single bedroom with another man who is waiting up for him following this exchange (as already described above), that he has experience with both men and women. Especially since Kathy follows that up by asking for clarification on the “some” by asking, “Many?” The final bit of this exchange makes it even more likely that more is being implied. Kathy, realizing he has had experience with more than enough women (all “standard equipment” as his only description when asked what they were like), wonders then why Andy hasn’t ever been married. Andy’s response is a flat, “They were either too standard or not enough equipment.” Kathy: “Oh. OH.”
Does he mean small-breasted women?
Or is he referring to a different kind of equipment?
Add to it a few more exchanges between Andy and Artie, such as Artie promising “Whither thou goest” and a lampshade engagement gag where Andy “proposes” to Artie, it’s no stretch of the imagination that this was slipping some homosexuality/bisexuality in past the Hays Code, even if – again – the underlying point is that Kathy comes along with her aggressive manner and offers Andy what other women couldn’t. But, hey, sorry Artie, if my theory is correct and Andy is supposed to be bisexual, I’d drop anyone for Kathy too if I were him. How could you not…
Overall, I think this is a cute little movie, especially if you’re into movies like Bringing Up Baby, or a fan of June Allyson. If you haven’t seen it, I urge you to give it a watch if you can. Again, look at how beautiful Junie is. How could anyone not want to watch it?
This post is part of the June Allyson Centenary Blogathon hosted by Simoa at Champagne For Lunch, in celebration of what would have been June’s 100th birthday! For more entries, click on the banner and if you enjoyed my post, you’re sure to enjoy the others even more!
XOXO Elinor Anne James
(All screencaps taken by me. Feel free to use if you’d like!)
Some stories I’ve heard/read suggest that Ray Bolger was an egotistical ass. And, unfortunately for him, he didn’t have the good looks and notoriety for people to swoon over him the way they do other egotistical asses (and Hollywood, then and now, is chock full of them if we’re being honest). I have come across Doris fans who write off this film simply because they can’t stomach Bolger, hate the treatment she endured during filming, etc. before they even get to the actual flaws the film might (and does) have. I understand that if a movie’s been tainted, it’s been tainted, but it always makes me a little sad that this charmingly saccharine little film gets left out a lot of times.
For me, I’m not here to see anyone or anything other than Doris Day making the sun shine brighter than anyone else can (sorry, Wham!, but nobody can top Doris). That’s a common thread for me in all of her films. With the exception of The Man Who Knew Too Much (blog-a-thon post by Crimson Kimono) and Please, Don’t Eat The Daisies, because I love Jimmy Stewart and David Niven respectively, the leading men are pretty much all nonexistent when I’m watching a Doris Day film because I only have eyes for her. That’s not to say I don’t have soft spots for her team ups with some of the other men by any means, (Rock and Tony come to mind since I’m no sacrilegious Doris fan!) just that it’s often been a case of needing a few viewings to even appreciate the male leads or costars if I wasn’t already in love with them.
So because I couldn’t care less if Bolger was in this film or someone else – if it were the same film (and not an actor I abhor) – and because I find Bolger entertaining regardless of the moments I’m applying face to palm, I love April In Paris and urge everyone to at least give it a shot if they want to see a bright and sunny young Doris (her 12th film, and towards the end of her first five years in movies). I would urge everyone to at least give it a shot simply for Doris’ rollicking number, “I’m Gonna Ring The Bell Tonight”.
The film opens up with Bolger’s character, S. Winthrop Putnam (the S is for Sam). He’s a ‘politician’, specifically the “Assistant Secretary to the Assistant to the Undersecretary of State.” Of course, the joke here is that he acts more high-and-mighty than he ought when, really, he’s just an easily manipulated, graveling peon in the ridiculous bureaucratic system of Washington D.C. If anything, he’s only put up with because of his fiancé Marcia Sherman, the daughter of his boss, who has high political aspirations that she’s willing to achieve vicariously through her spouse – it seems whoever she marries will be in the White House if she has her way.
Underneath Sam’s rigid exterior isn’t a regulation-obsessed, power-hungry rich man, rather a whimsical Everyman into the arts who’s worked his way up from the son of a janitor and would like to give into his carefree whims and enjoy life. But he’s simply so entangled in the politics of following rules, pushing pencils, and pleasing older, regulation-obsessed, power-hungry rich men that he doesn’t tend to give into those whims. Fortunately for Sam, he makes a terrible mistake. An invitation intended for Ethel Barrymore to act as an American representative at an art festival in Paris is sent instead to a chorus girl named Ethel “Dynamite” Jackson who’d applied for a work permit for Montreal at the same time, Doris Day of course.
In the opening act, before Sam learns of his mistake, we also meet Philippe Fouquet (ah, the little middle fingers that were given to the production code are sometimes very amusing), a Frenchman played by Claude Dauphin. He’s a Parisian night club owner who’s stranded in America, trying to get home, but being put through the runaround by the government – going through the “usual channels” which is essentially code for being tossed from one agency to the next because none of them are willing to help him. (Funny how 65 years later, things operate generally the same in that regard.) Philippe acts as the guiding force of the film, and narrator; he even breaks the fourth wall.
Sam rushes off to un-invite Ethel Jackson and finds her in the middle of a chorus line, singing “It Must Be Good.” Naturally, Sam is bowled over when he sees just how drop-dead gorgeous (hence, “Dynamite”) Ethel is. Sure, “what a built” may be entirely sexist, but aren’t we all guilty of having to pick our jaws up off the floor upon seeing Doris Day for the first time, and every subsequent time? I certainly can’t say I wouldn’t be right there with him if in a similar situation.
What I love about Doris Day characters is that even though Doris is absolutely stunning and feminine, she’s not some picture of frail womanhood (no offense to the actresses who are, by any means, since we all need representation). Ethel Jackson is no exception. She’s a woman who will sock you if you tell anyone she’s been crying, who pushes back when she’s being pushed around, who gets angry, who rebels, who stands up for her dignity, and generally displays a wonderful range of human emotions and reactions while on her little adventure in the movie.
Sam breaks the news and, naturally, previously excited Ethel is heartbroken and sings the beautiful Yip Harburg and Vernon Duke classic, “April In Paris”. I love this song, generally speaking, especially performed by Ella Fitzgerald – one of Doris’ biggest influences, and of course love what Doris brings to the table. It’s a moment of vulnerability for her, in the film, and her sedate performance, her emotional voice and tear-glossy eyes are simply mesmerizing. Doris always has this natural charm that pulls me in and it’s true when she’s being emotional too. For all of the “affectedness” that could be (and has been) wrongly attributed to her sunny, ultra-blonde, girl-next-door routine, for me, I’ve never seen that in her acting. I mean, she always breathes life into her characters just by opening that lovely mouth of hers whether to speak or sing or simply smile, but then she taps into the character’s emotions even deeper and shows off her acting chops and it’s like icing on an already delicious cake (seriously, Doris, you’re giving the rest of us unrealistic expectations!).
Now, obviously, the movie would end there if it were as simple as Ethel Jackson having her hopes and dreams of being spirited to Paris dashed for good. Fate, and popular politics, intervene when “the people” voice their joy at having a common woman represent the U.S. at the art festival and Sam’s boss responds with voter numbers in his eyes instead of pupils. Sam, after trying to fix the problem, has to hurry off to fix the problem again by making sure Ethel comes along, but not without performing a song and dance number with himself dressed as two different presidents, which gives us a little insight into his truer artistic and imaginative personality while also giving us another example of how he’s let Washington go to his head (honestly, he’s not overly likable as a stuffed shirt politician, and less so when I rewatch the film now following this past election cycle). Ethel doesn’t go without throwing a wonderful fit over the incompetency and runaround, but she goes.
What follows is your standard fare: girl and boy fall in love, but it’s complicated. And it’s the madcap complication that makes it delightful. Some of the highlights for me include, aforementioned “I’m Gonna Ring The Bell Tonight” sequence (a song that gets stuck in my head for days at a time), Doris’ song number with Claude: “That’s What Makes Paris Paree” toward the end, and a humorous scene in the middle that is nearly completely impossible outside of its 1952 context – that is, it’s literally all about preserving sexual virtue prior to marriage and is an example of how the production code was literally played with for humor. One thing can be said for the production code, and I may talk about more of my feelings on the subject in another post, and that’s it sometimes gave us unique storytelling, creative jumping through hoops and witty satire we don’t see anymore (for better and worse).
April In Paris certainly isn’t the most nuanced film. It’s not Doris Day at her best (although that’s a false statement because she’s always at her best). It’s probably not even all that memorable unless you’ve managed to form some kind of attachment to it like I did early on. There are some misses, objectively and subjectively (I don’t love the jealous women trope by any means). But, overall, it’s still a cute little movie and a pleasant enough excuse to fawn over Doris Day for an hour and a half. I wish more people could see that and appreciate it for what it is! Cheesy has been thrown at this film as a description, but I say pop open a bottle of wine get a French loaf and enjoy it! And if you don’t want to watch the film, at least do yourself a favor and watch someclips on YouTube!
This post is part of the Doris Day Blogathon hosted by Michaela at Love Letters To Old Hollywood, and just in time for Doris’ birthday! For more entries, click on the banner and if you enjoyed my post, you’re sure to enjoy the others even more!