Reeling Backward: "Friendly Persuasian" (1956)

When Ronald Reagan was trying to woo Mikhail Gorbachev to put an end to the Cold War, he gave him a copy of the 1956 movie, "Friendly Persuasion," to show how people of varied ilks can put aside their differences without resorting to violence. This was ironic for a couple of reasons:

1. Reagan, who was not exactly slow to dispatch the military into various global conflicts, pursued a massive arms race in hopes of ruining the Soviet economy.
2. The movie is about Quakers who preach pacifism in the face of the Civil War, but in the end most of the family members do not retain the courage of their convictions.

Whatever its failings as a standard for non-violence, it's a beautiful-looking film that essentially serves as a travelogue for the Quaker lifestyle. It depicts them as wholesome, thoughtful people who embrace an old-fashioned interpretation of the Bible that leads to some choices that may have seemed funny or even dangerous to American audiences of 1956.

Indeed, the film was based on a 1945 novel by Jessamyn West and was originally slated for production years early. But the Red Scare and McCarthy hearings convinced the producers and studio honchos to back-burner it for awhile. 

A healthy 137 minutes, "Friendly Persuasion" is essentially a very lightweight film, just this side of a pure comedy in fact, that suddenly decides to get serious in the last act. Gary Cooper and Dorothy McGuire play Jess and Eliza Birdwell, upstanding Quakers in southern Indiana circa 1862. They have three kids, ranging from almost-grown Josh (Anthony Perkins) and Mattie (Phyllis Love) to scrappy young scamp Little Jess (Richard Eyer)

Watching the movie, at first it seems like it's not really about anything in particular, other than spending time with the Birdwells and getting to know the rhythms of their lifestyle and faith. The most obvious is using "thee" and "thine" instead of "you" and "yours," and a few other anachronistic language tweaks. Eliza is a preacher at the local Quaker meeting house (what they call churches), and is very concerned with their family appearing proper.

We get the sense that Jess is a late convert to the Quaker life, since he enjoys racing the family horse carriage against his friend and neighbor, Sam (Robert Middleton), and has a fondness for music. (Quakers actually like music, just not the prerecorded kind.)

Later, Jess buys an organ from a traveling salesman, bringing disharmony to their marriage when Eliza refuses to let it in her house. She decamps to the barn to sleep, where Jess comes to comfort her, resulting in the rumpled couple returning to the house the next morning, in one of the more deliberate implications of sex you'll find in a Golden Age film.

Mattie is full of girlish romantic notions, mostly directed at a handsome neighbor, Gard (Peter Mark Richman), who has enlisted as a Union soldier. Josh is a good quiet boy who's still full of beans, and eventually joins the local home guard when Johnny Reb raiders try to cross the river and raid into their territory. Young Jess Jr. more or less acts as the eyes and ears of the audience, observing the goings-on in between battles with his mother's nippy pet goose.

The depiction of Quaker religion and convictions is rather open-minded for its era. I particularly liked the scenes inside the meeting house, where services are non-formal and contemplative. People are invited to say whatever's on their mind, from declarations to semi-confessionals. Their peace is invaded by a Union soldier who tries to shame the men into volunteering to fight.

Later, Josh will have similar conversations with his parents about taking up arms. They never try to browbeat him, declaring him free to make  his own choices, even if they're the wrong ones. Cooper projects a strong paternal presence as the father who loves his children, but recognizes they need room to grow and discover themselves. Perkins received an Oscar nomination for his supporting performance, the only one of his long career.

The big set-piece in the movie is a visit to the fair, which is shown as a pit of temptation -- but also fun. Little Jess proves a natural at parlor games, and Mattie is invited to dance -- imagine! -- with Gard. A strapping Quaker boy challenges the strongman to a wrestling match and seems to be winning, until he fears hurting the man and gives up. The ensuing fight over betting is reminiscent of the scene in "Witness" where Harrison Ford steps up for the Amish.

"Friendly Persuasion" was nominated for six Academy Awards, including Best Picture and Best Director, William Wyler. Screenwriter Michael Wilson also received a nod, but he was blacklisted at the time. So due to the odd notions of the time, the movie received a screenwriting nomination without acknowledging the screenwriter. (This oversight, like many during the Blacklist era, was eventually set right.)

I enjoyed the movie well enough, though it's one of those mid-century films that suffers from an inflated reputation. Pastoral and pleasant, it's about some big ideas but frames them in the smallest way possible. My guess is Gorby was mystified by Ronnie's gift.

Reeling Backward: "The Enchanted Cottage" (1945)

At first glance "The Enchanted Cottage" might seem like another mushy midcentury romance, with the characters shot in gauzy halos as they make their ubiquitous protestations of undying love. Except for one thing: It came out just a few months before the end of World War II, and depicts the debilitating effects of that terrible conflict on the very face and body of its male star.

Robert Young was no great beauty, at least compared to contemporaries like Clark Gable, Gary Cooper, Cary Grant or Errol Flynn. But even in 1945 the future "Father Knows Best" star projected an image of ideal American manhood, masculine yet warm.

It must have been quite a shock for audiences to see him with one arm dangling useless, and the right side of his face criss-crossed with scars. One of the scars even extends into his eyes, causing it to droop in a way reminiscent of a stroke victim.

Remember this is a time when the President of the United States was never photographed sitting in his wheelchair, and coverage of the war wounded tended to focus on their valiant efforts rather than their disablements.

The story is based on a play written by Arthur Wing Pinero about a disabled WWI soldier; it was also turned into a silent film in 1924. In the updated version Young plays Oliver Bradford, a dashing rich socialite who is about to be married (to Hillary Brooke) when he is sent off to war as a pilot. They had rented a remote cottage for their honeymoon -- actually the only remaining wing of a much larger house fallen into ruin -- but never got to use it.

Mrs. Minnett (Mildred Natwick) is the prickly older woman who owns and runs the cottage, which is only used by newlyweds who scratch their names in the glass of the front window panes. Young Laura Pennington (Dorothy McGuire) comes to work there as the maid, intrigued by the legends surrounding the cottage.

When Oliver returns from the war a year later disfigured, his engagement ended, he forms a friendship with the homely girl that grows into love. She marries him, more out of pity than anything else, but they find the magic of the cottage has transformed them into beautiful creatures. His scars disappear, and he even regains the use of his right arm.

The sections focusing on Laura's loneliness are particularly strong, especially the scene where she attends a large dance and none of the soldiers will invite her onto the floor. A couple even spy her pining from a distance and move in, but when they see her face they back off and pretend to look the other way.

Notably, McGuire achieved her spinster look without the aid of any special makeup or effects. They simply made up her hair in an unattractive way, dressed her in ill-fitting clothes, and she achieved the rest with her facial expressions and hunched posture.

It's a pretty convincing juxtaposition, though of course she doesn't really look that bad even during her "plain" phase. It's a Hollywood Ugly -- if she's homely, then I'm a bridge troll.

I was particularly impressed with Herbert Marshall as John Hillgrove, a veteran who lost his sight during World War I and became a celebrated pianist. He becomes Laura and Oliver's closest friend and confidante, and despite his blindness sees the true nature of their enchantment before anyone else does.

In actuality Marshall was sighted, wearing special contact lenses to turn his pupils almost colorless. The effect is to make him look like a seer or prophet. But he did only have one leg, losing the other in WWI, though the way he walks and moves you'd hardly guess it.

Marshall had a long career on stage and screen without hardly any of his audience knowing about his true disability. His rich, deep voice has an almost musical quality -- he often seems to be practically singing his dialogue.

John Cromwell directs with a steady hand, though I admit the last portion of the film where the gorgeous couple resides in bliss is the least interesting section to me. It's only a matter of time before they discover that there is no magic, only their love for each other that allows them to see each other as beautific.

It's in the darker, despondent sections that "The Enchanted Cottage" weaves its most powerful spell.