The Candlewood Isle Film Fest continued last Saturday night
with a holiday dinner party screening of Meet Me in St. Louis,” a 1944 movie
that introduced the Blane & Martin song “Have Yourself a Merry Little
Christmas.”
During dinner we projected a 16mm kinescope TV broadcast
print of the 6th installment of “The Judy Garland Show” (1962),
which included memorable commercials of odd products of the time (Wondra Flour,
Winston Cigarettes, Head & Shoulders Shampoo).
The show featured June Allyson and Steve Lawrence, as well
as sidekick Jerry van Dyck. We focused
our eyes on the screen when Ms. Garland began her solo finale, her “informed”
heart throbbing version of a rousing Jeanette McDonald song called “San Francisco.” Triumphant as the credits ran, she
contentedly rolled about the stage ending in a fetal position.
Then we projected the Blue Strip Technicolor transparencies
of Meet Me in St. Louis, a print from Rochester New York, perhaps from the
George Eastman House, purchased from The Cure Thrift Shop on East 12th
Street for $5.
The movie commemorates the transformation of St. Louis’s
marshland into fairgrounds for the 1905 World’s Fair. Its episodes cover a year of holidays in the lives of a St. Louis family threatened with a move to New York. Its screenplay drew from a
collection of stories Sally Benson wrote for the New Yorker magazine as a
series called 5135 Kensington Street. Ms. Benson’s varied credits include
screenwriting Shadow of a Doubt, Viva Las Vegas and The Singing Nun.
By 1944 Vincent Minelli, had left set designing for Radio
City Music Hall and had already directed for MGM the black and white musical
“Cabin in the Sky.” He had a way of creating an intimate family atmosphere in his movies. Another highlight for me is his Shirley MacLaine bar scene in Some Came Running.
The Three strip Technicolor printing process used for Meet
Me In St. Louis, developed by MIT scientists in 1918, was still precious in the
1940s, so the studio indulged Mr. Minelli’s attention to color detail while
allowing him to direct this film. The color palette is intoxicating.
To photograph in Technicolor, Red Green and Blue filters
cover the exposure of three strips of black and white film. The three films are imbibed into one strip
of film, such as the strip we ran through the projector on Saturday.
The blue strip on our print suggests that the print itself
was from the 1940’s when it was necessary to conserve on silver for the
war. For some reason this adds to the softness of the high color saturation, giving viewers a blue rather than black base.
The no-place-like-home warmth of the film becomes satirical against such
highlights as the anarchy in the streets bonfire of the Halloween segment,
This is the movie where a bonfire burns brightly in the
background as Margaret O’Brien, playing a 5-year-old child, bravely goes forward
toward the home of a cat killer and throws flour in his face. As she runs away the house-dog laps it off
the floor. Throwing furniture into the
street fire she yells, “I’m the most horrible.” Ms. O’Brien demonstrates her range to me in the Secret Garden
(1949) where she and another boy engage in a yelling match and I think she
wins. The camera crew must have stood
back and let that happen. She’s a
pretty great actor. . She’s still
alive, by the way.
It was such fun having dinner with the movie that we plan to
charge $10 and serve dinner and drinks at all future screenings, which are the
third Saturday of the month.