Happy Independence Day!  Sit back and watch The Man Who Owned Broadway hold FDR hostage for two hours while he divulges his entire life story because Mr. Roosevelt has nothing else important to focus his time on in the 1940s.

The good ‘ol US of A has a very complicated history, and continues to make baffling policy decisions (to put it lightly).  There is no lack of amount of dissenting opinions or criticisms proudly proclaimed against our country, and waving an American flag is a great indicator someone may be a bigoted right-wing nut job.  But back in 1942, when this film was released, we were at the height of pro-American propaganda.  There was no lack of Government made pieces of media, but Hollywood chipped in with Casablanca, This is the Army, The Great Dictator, Buck Private… Shit, the fucking Looney Tunes were making fun of Hitler.  We continue to make films about America’s Great War, because even though we killed over 100k Japanese civilians by bombing the shit out of them, entering the war is probably the last time anyone would admit America was “morally justified” in involving themselves in foreign conflicts.

When we entered Vietnam, and with our country’s atrocities now being filmed and broadcast across the world, positive public opinion started to plummet, never recovering to those WW2 levels.  Even attempts at a pro-Vietnam war propaganda, like John Wayne’s The Green Berets, didn’t produce the patriotic fervor the United States government wanted.  Right after 9/11 it came closer than it ever had, because there’s nothing like a terrorist attack on domestic soil to persuade citizens of a country to give up their basic rights to privacy and wear mass produced t-shirts made in overseas sweat shops proclaiming “Our Colors Don’t Run”.  With the now 24-hour news media cycle and the amplification of all kinds of varying opinions, even during the Bush administration we could hear vocal outcry to their several war crimes.  Sure, we’ll still have American Sniper, but nothing will ever come off as sincere and rousing as a bunch of mannequins waving an American flag back and forth on a Broadway stage.

Because boy howdy, this is excellently made propaganda.  Yankee Doodle Dandy is a fictionalized retelling of real-life actor/dancer/singer/composer/producer George M. Cohan, an Irish-American who grew up on the stage with his family by his side. The film is a squishy-timeline’d recounting of his rise to fame and wealth based on his talent and drive to succeed. And the in the most American origin story of all, its genesis may have been a result of its lead actor’s desire to prove he wasn’t a commie.

George M. Cohan is played by James Cagney, typically known for his roles in gangster movies even though he loved to sing and dance (I am convinced Hugh Jackman is trying to mimic his career).  The real life Mr. Cohan was annoyed by Cagney’s initial casting because he thought he was too pretty, leaning more toward someone like Fred Astaire, who is as goofy as he is good looking.  Mr. Cohan was overruled, however, and by the time he viewed the film shortly before his death, he confessed he was a fool for his protests.  James Cagney is lovely in this – he’s charismatic and funny, improvising many of the bits that had me laughing out loud. He also worked with Mr. Cohan on this movie, and the script went through a lot of rewrites based on his feedback.

We open the movie on an older George M. Cohan performing on stage as FDR in a musical titled “I’d Rather Be Right”.  On opening night, after making out with his wife backstage in front of everybody, he receives a telegram from the White House from what George assumes is an annoyed Mr. Roosevelt.  Only then does Mr. Cohan question whether or not its appropriate to impersonate a sitting president during an active war as he tucks his tail between his legs and takes the train to Washington.

Upon being greeted by a valet that remembers George’s first visit to the grounds 30 years ago, we’re treated to the mental image of that racist fucking asshole Teddy Roosevelt getting so jazzed up by Mr. Cohan’s rendition of “You’re a Grand Old Flag” that he would gleefully sing it in the bathtub.  George is brought up to President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s office where a very well-meaning actor gives a faceless performance that will later be dubbed over in post.  The president praises Mr. Cohan’s patriotism, declaring, “That’s one thing I’ve always admired about you Irish-Americans.  You carry your love of country like a flag, right out in the open.”

George informs the president that he inherited his nationalism from his father, who ran away to proudly fight in the civil war.  Not to shit on my entire people, but I find it hard to believe that Irish-Americans were passionate about abolishing slavery for all people back in the 1860s.  Mr. Cohan then takes this opportunity to kick-off the framing device by relaying his entire life story to a sitting president who clearly has nothing else to do.

Picture it: Providence, Rhode Island, 1878.  It’s the Forth of July, and Jerry Cohan, dressed like a leprechaun and sporting the worst Irish accent that I’ve heard since I’ve tried to do one myself, is rushing off the stage and back to the house to meet his newborn son George Washington Michael Cohan.  With a baby sister, Josie (played by Cagney’s real-life sister Jeanne), born several years later, the kids join the family business and the entire troop begin touring the vaudeville circuit as the aptly named 4 Cohans. 

They’re making this poor kid play a violin on his head while tap dancing.  Lindsey Sterling could never.

Also, 13 minutes in and we’ve already got our first blackface performance. Add it to the list.

After snagging his first lead role at thirteen chucking eggs and flour at adults on stage, little Georgie lets the fame immediately go to his head.  He can’t help himself from mouthing off to Ed Albee, a theater owner who makes the mistake of offering The 4 Cohan’s third billing in his new show (even though it’ll double their salary) losing them the opportunity.  His reformation comes shortly after he gets the shit kicked out of him by his father and a roaming gang of theater-going children because sometimes scrubs gotta get hit.  The family then spends the next 10 years floundering around from city to city until George meets Mary, an “18-year-old” girl who visits him backstage to get advice on how to start in showbusiness.  After fucking with her to test the waters on a potential grandfather fetish, he claims he can get her a gig with the show.

George rides his ego right into the next town, having his ingénue change her act last minute to a George M. Cohan original without informing the manager ahead of time.  The manager is so incensed Mary replaced the (mysteriously now drunk) dog act with untested nonsense that he fires her, George, and George’s family.

“Drunk or sober, the dog act goes on in the next show,” might be my favorite line in all the 71 reviews I’ve written.

Black-balled and suddenly unemployed, Georgie teams up with Mary and starts shopping his material around to whatever producers will take a meeting.  After several months of no dough (and with the goodwill of their landlord running thin), George pretends to sell one of his shows so his family will drop his toxic butt and tour without him to earn a bit of cash while “the show is in rehearsal”.  After they leave, George continues to pedal hoping he will Secret a career into existence.

“Who’s strong and brave, here to save the American way…”

While working the circuit, George teams up with Sam H. Harris, a playwright that is having about as much luck with selling his content as Mr. Cohan is.  They con an old man with his wife’s money burning a hole in his pocket to buy a show about some jockey named “Little Johnny Jones” that George wrote because he was short and he wanted to star in it.

The only reason I know this song is because of Steel Magnolias.  I also had no idea those weird bottlecap costumes were a real thing; I thought it was something Mary Poppins made up.

TIL Mr. Jelly Legs here wrote “Give My Regards to Broadway” for this musical in 1904.

With the success of George’s Broadway show, he telegrams his family to join him back in New York so they can reestablish the act on a bigger stage.  Gaining notoriety has also afforded him the opportunity to recruit big name stars like Fay Templeton, although she doesn’t seem very keen on the idea since Mr. Cohan is mostly known for showy displays of patriotism, which she hates for some reason.  It isn’t until she hears him sing a repackaged “Give My Regards to Broadway” as a love song about living 45 minutes outside the city that piques her interest.  The deal is well and truly sold after she hears “Mary”, a song he wrote for his sweetheart.  When George comes home to his song’s namesake, he proposes marriage to take the edge off of some famous lady stealing her gig, and she accepts because her only role in this movie is to be as supportive of George as possible.

The proposal is genuinely adorable, though, as she tells him she loves looking after him, and he says he could cast her for that part for the rest of their lives.  When she coyly asks to see some of the script they kiss, and then Cagney improvises the line, “Not bad for a first reading.”

Mary is an amalgamation of the real-life George Cohan’s two wives, and her song was originally written for one of Mr. Cohan’s daughters, of which none are mentioned in this movie.  Mary’s inclusion was against the advisement of Mr. Cohan, who would have preferred neither of his wives were mentioned at all.  The actress who plays her, Joan Leslie, turned 17-years-old on set.  Like, I want to reiterate, she was a literal child, and they had to shut down filming early when she was involved because she legally couldn’t work at night.

Anyway, George M. Cohan goes peak Americana with his latest show “George Washington Jr.”, which features cameos from the boy scouts, veterans, African Americans singing in front of the Lincoln memorial, that fucking racist Teddy Roosevelt, and a seemingly infinite amount of American flags.

After his parents retire to run a farm and his sister gets married, he tries to go “legit” by writing a 3 act play with no songs that bombs.  He doesn’t have enough time to process his failure before a torpedo sinks the Lusitania.  George tries to tap dance his way into the army but they reject him for being too advanced in age at an ancient thirty-nine years old.  Instead, they argue he is much more valuable writing catchy propaganda for the troops.

After the war ends, George continues to make bangers (like more than 40 of them, dude’s a workhorse).  At that pace, it was common for him to have multiple shows running on Broadway at the same time. Sometime off-camera his mother and sister die, with his father following soon afterward.  With his entire family gone, George processes his grief by quitting showbusiness and touring the world with Mary.  He then takes an attempt at retirement on the farm until his old partner Sam calls asking him to come back for one. last. show.  And take a guess who he wants George to play.

Now back at present day, we discover that FDR didn’t call up Mr. Cohan for some late-night pillow talk.  He wanted to award George M. Cohan with the Congressional Medal of Congress “for his Contribution to the America Spirit”.  Mr. Cohan is so touched by the gesture that he dances his way down the stairs, which is something Cagney improvised because he’s in the top 10 most charming men who have ever been born.

Here’s where I have the privilege of telling you that this is clearly not how the real George M. Cohan was awarded The Congressional Gold Medal of Honor for songwriting.  While Cohan was a democrat and initially supportive of FDR, he did not approve of the president’s view on unions.  Cohan was a staunch union buster (sad trombone), so he refused to pick up his award for 4 years in order to avoid meeting with the president with the hope that his term would run out.  FDR eventually was like, ‘dude, come and get this thing it’s taking up space’, and Cohan begrudgingly accepted it in 1940 out of duty for his country. Apparently all was forgiven once Roosevelt hugged him, although I’m not sure it changed either of their opinions on labor laws.

It’s a shame I’m not a blind flag-waving patriot, because this film is delightful. It’s hard not to fall in love with the characters, and I genuinely laughed out loud in several parts at their dialogue. James Cagney can easily take credit for the majority of this – his improvised bits brought Mr. Cohan to life. I let out a surprised yelp when he took off his old man toupee, threw it on the ground and stomped on it – who thinks of that?? He even reprised this role several years later in The Seven Little Foys (Eddy Foy Jr. made a brief cameo in Yankee Doodle Dandy depicting his father). Like with Barbra Streisand and Fanny Brice, I’m sure going to have a hard time separating Cagney’s depiction of George M. Cohan from his real-life counterpart.

If you can stomach a film that whole heartedly celebrates this quagmire of a nation (and full transparency, I failed last year because I just had my reproductive rights snatched away from me and was exhausted from googling which doctors in my state would give a single woman with no kids a tubal ligation), it’s a pretty entertaining watch.

My mother thanks you, my father thanks you, my sister thanks you, and I assure you, I thank you for reading!  If you’ve enjoyed this post, please consider helping me fund this project by donating to my ko-fi 🙂

Welcome to the little-known Irving Berlin classic film White Christmas, starring a bunch of people you’ve never heard of singing a bunch of songs that never really caught on.

I’m joking.  You have to know I’m joking.

Actually, I’m in the minority of people that didn’t see this movie until I was well into adulthood.  Netflix put it up on their streaming service, and I thought, “Sure.  I’d love to know what Clark Griswold’s barometer of cheer is.”  I wasn’t blown away by it, but it worked its way into my yearly yuletide viewing because of two things:

• Bing Crosby’s buttery soft voice that reminds me of when they would dub birds on Looney Tunes with crooners and chickens would lose their shit.
• Vera Ellen’s dancing.  No elaboration needed.

The actual plot of Wallace and Davis saving their former Army General’s inn from going out of business is touching.  I’m going to put a pin in this tangent for later, but I find it really interesting the amount of media released centered around WW2.  We still release WW2-centered movies on a regular basis.  In contrast, events I’ve lived through in my life, like 9/11, the conflict in Iraq and Afghanistan, even the pandemic we’re in right now – we haven’t seen depictions of those events reflected in media on that kind of scale.  Holiday movies that were filmed this year have gone out of their way to avoid referencing that we’re in a pandemic at all.  The lack of extras, overuse of sound stage sets, green-screened Dolly Parton awkwardly floating over dance numbers… it’s almost weirder to avoid the post-apocalyptic-like emptiness completely than it would be to casually reference it.  I understand that media is supposed to be a form of escapism, but ignoring massive touchstones of humanity like they aren’t affecting the entire goddamn planet is almost more eerie.

The romanticism of WW2 may be a way to justify a very dark time in history, and provide comfort to soldiers by looking at the camaraderie through rose-colored glasses.  While White Christmas touches on the adjustment soldiers felt after returning home, other movies on this list like Cabaret and The Sound of Music address the war head-on, so I’ll defer my deep dive and try to keep this review light.  Because (Linda Belcher voice) it’s *Christmas*.

So, right… Wallace and Davis, a couple of showmen stationed overseas during the war, stage a Christmas concert for the troops.  General Waverly, who is injured and soon to be replaced, says goodbye to his soldiers after everyone is already crying at Bing Crosby’s rendition of “White Christmas”.  At the end of the performance, the regiment is attacked, and Wallace saves Davis from a falling building.  Wallace uses the guilt as leverage to convince Davis to join him in a travelling double act after the war is over.

They become wildly successful, but Davis is a bit of a workaholic.  In an attempt to get any semblance of free time away from his friend, Wallace repeatedly sets Davis up with some hot showbiz girlz.   Davis makes a lot of assumptions about their literary accomplishments and blows them off.

Wallace basically reams him a new one, advising Davis that he’s aging quickly and it won’t be long before women won’t find him sexually attractive.  Bob accurately identifies that the age of the women he’s being introduced to is probably inappropriate because they’re at different stages of their lives, but he concedes and promises the next time he finds a lady who wants to pop out kids, he’d consider settling down.

After this heart to heart, they head to a club in Florida to check out the musical act of the relatives of an old army buddy.  Conveniently, the army buddy’s sisters are really hot, so Wallace and Davis are captivated by their performance.  

“Sisters” will get stuck in my head for days after I watch this movie.  It makes me ignore the hilarious fact that these two women are supposed to be related.

Wallace quickly finds out that Judy and him are in a similar situations – Betty is overprotective of her younger sister, and Judy is desperate to get her sister laid so she can have some freedom herself.  They brainstorm ways to force Betty and Bob together, even though there is no reason on earth for them to even like each other.  In fact, Betty and Bobby’s first interaction is a disagreement about how motivations can drive a person’s actions… which seems obvious, but Betty is so offended that Bob might think she has an “angle” that she ices him out.  Even though The Haynes Sisters conned them into viewing their act.  Sheesh.

The romantic subplot between Betty and Bob is EXHAUSTING.  It makes zero sense, they have no chemistry, and it is unbelievably repetitive and tedious.  If I could watch a supercut of this movie that omitted this entirely, I think my enjoyment of this film would skyrocket.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Some convoluted shit happens that results in the sisters climbing out a back window while Wallace and Davis create a distraction for them by performing their “Sisters” number.  It’s a choice.

The quartet is later reunited on a train to Vermont, as the Haynes Sisters have a gig there for the Christmas holiday.  Since Wallace gave away their sleeping car to the dames, Davis bitches about having to sit up in the club car, overselling how comfortable a train bed is every chance he’s provided.  They pass the time singing about how magical Vermont snow is, which is a sentiment expressed by people who haven’t had to shovel their driveway several times a day in negative temperatures so the mailman can reach their front door.

Once they arrive in Vermont, Wallace and Davis quickly discover that their beloved General Waverly owns the Inn Betty and Judy are booked to perform at.  We’re treated to yet another rendition of “Sisters” because it’s the only song Betty and Judy know, and afterward the nosey housekeeper divulges all of the General’s financial woes to Wallace and Davis, which is just so rude, I can’t even start to explain how shitty it is. Turns out, the lack of snow is preventing guests from visiting, and causing the General’s business to slowly go under.  As expected from four people in the entertainment industry, they decide to put on a big show to attract guests.  Wallace and Davis call their entire crew to come to Vermont, even though the day before they had given them 10 days of paid leave off.  If I were their employee, I’d be pissed.

They start rehearsing the show in a barn the size of an airplane hanger.  The first number they rehearse waxes poetic about old minstrel shows, reciting a bunch of jokes about abusing and murdering dogs, and talking about how ‘ol Georgie Primrose was awesome.  How many times am I going to have to address that blackface was bad on this list?

“Mandy” is a weird and annoying song to me, and the stage and costume colors hurt my eyeballs.  But there is one person who saves this number, and it’s Vera Ellen dancing her ass off while being manhandled by a bunch of dudes.

Honestly, it’s my dream to be a part of a musical number where men are forced to pretend you’re the fucking best.

After the number concludes and the 3 people who were watching it applaud, Betty asks Judy if the tempo of the number worked for her in the part of the song that is literally repeated over and over and over… giving Bob the chance to sneak up and play the piano next to her, creating *a moment*.  This feels so tacked on and bizarre and their romance it’s so dummmmmbbbbb ughhhhhh

Later, Wallace and Judy conspire for Bob and Betty to have yet another meet cute where they eat romantic foods like liverwurst and buttermilk and talk about sheep and I just… sure.  Betty apologizes for jumping down Bob’s throat at the club, since he was only there out of the goodness of his own heart.  Bob warns Betty that holding people to impossible standards will ultimately disappoint her, and then a extremely awkward kiss happens between a 51-year-old Bing Crosby and a 26-year-old Rosemary Clooney.

The next morning, Bob has a very well written interaction with General Waverly, where the General expresses interest in joining the army again, only to have those dreams dashed 30 seconds later.  This gives Bob the idea to invite the old regiment to the performance as a way to emotionally validate the General, which is touching and freaking adorable.  He arranges to put the word out to the soldiers on a television program, which the housekeeper overhears incorrectly on the phone and believes that Wallace and Davis are going to parade the general in front of the nation and talk about how pitiful he is for clout and profit.  She communicates this to Betty, who is understandably put off by the idea, but instead of confronting Wallace and Davis about it, or confiding in her sister, or warning the General herself, she decides to commit a series of the most passive aggressive statements and actions that Bob and the crew cannot possibly begin to decipher, even though they point-blank ask her why she is upset multiple times and she declines to inform them.

Judy, who also loves to jump to conclusions, assumes Betty is pushing Bob away because she can’t get married until she does.  Judy then convinces Wallace to pretend they’re engaged so Betty can move forward with Bob guilt-free, except to the surprise of nobody, this completely backfires and Betty drops out of the show and leaves to perform at a club in New York.

Again, this whole fucking thing could have been avoided if the housekeeper or Betty asked Wallace and Davis about what their intentions were for the show.  Betty leaving and not saying a word is not only petty, but also sets up the General to be exploited anyway, which is the whole thing she was upset about in the first place!  Her reaction causes Wallace and Judy to come clean to Bob about their scheme, and he decides to look Betty up while he is in New York and set her straight on the whole situation.  When he finds her, she has the absolute nerve to sing a song about love doing her wrong, even though she’s created all these problems in her own head and OH MY GOD BETTY IS THE ABSOLUTE WORST.

She’s dismissive of Bob and the news her sister isn’t actually engaged, and he mentally curses himself for writing off the “easy” girls before.  Of course, Betty later discovers she’s been acting a fool, returns to Vermont, and performs in the show.  The regiment travels from all over the country to pay their respects to General Waverly in a scene that makes me tear up cause it’s so fucking precious, goddamn.

In the middle of the performance, Bob and Betty get back together, even though Betty is a toxic person who has not once expressed interest in settling down and popping out 9 children, which was Bob’s only requirement for a mate in the beginning of the movie. I’m sure their relationship will be long and functional.

All these happy maskless white people drinking booze in the same room together really triggers some covid conspiracy-related rage inside of me.  Merry fucking Christmas, everybody.  

Also, here are some more videos of Vera Ellen dancing, because really, that’s what saved this movie for me.