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Did I say what a tremendous impact this film had on me? I remember the first time I saw it, during its initial release, at a sold-out late-night showing, not a child in sight, and I was not the only adult sniffling back tears of joy, thunderstruck by the sheer wonderfulness of this movie. And that feeling came rushing back, times ten, when I saw the film again in IMAX.
Elvis Presley takes a job as a roustabout at a carnival, gets slapped by a lot by girls with frighteningly waspish waists, and sings corny carny songs. In superbright Technicolor! Silly movie.
It’s Help! in the Old West, or The Quick and the Deadheads. This “electric western” musical comedy isn’t quite a hero’s journey, more a hero’s trip. It probably helps to be stoned.
Remember flower power? Remember when love and rock ‘n’ roll were gonna save the world? Me neither. So much has changed in the 32 years since Yellow Submarine was released…
I have a gut feeling that The Nightmare Before Christmas may be the movie closest to Burton’s subconscious. This Edward Gorey phantasm of a film, I think, is Burton’s id come to life.
I still mourn for Kermit — and for Jim Henson — though. The lamentable Bob Cratchit seems the ideal character for the creature who sang the melancholy and winsome “It’s Not Easy Being Green.” The Muppet Christmas Carol never achieves the delicate pathos it might have if Jim Henson had still been there for his froggy alter ego.
White Christmas is billed as a remake of Holiday Inn, but the only thing these two films have in common is Bing Crosby singing the most beautiful secular Christmas carol, Irving Berlin’s ‘White Christmas’ (which was originally written for Holiday Inn). White Christmas isn’t as delightful as its supposed predecessor, but if for no other reason, it’s worth seeing for a gorgeously simple arrangement of the title tune, which Crosby croons accompanied only by a windup music box.
God, I love those snarky 40s comedies in which there’s just a bit of meanness under the humor. Holiday Inn is, of course, filled with the kind of pretty Christmas songs and picture-postcard scenes of snow and horse-drawn sleighs that make for beloved holiday movies. But there’s also some darkness lurking here.
I can’t imagine my childhood without this movie…
I saw a rerelease of *Fantasia* in Radio City Music Hall when I was probably 6 or 7, and the ‘Night on Bald Mountain’ sequence scared the bejeezus out of me. It still does.
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