I saw my first movie ever in the UK, when I was five years old. it was 1959, and Dad was on leave from Nigeria. We were living in the family home in Droitwich, and Granny, Mum, and I went to Birmingham’s West End Cinema to see a much-celebrated American import.
Those were the days before movie ratings, when folks who attended such things were adjudged to be, and trusted to be, capable of making decisions as to what was the appropriate age level for attendance. And knowing that the film in question was of the sort that my granddaughter–many decades later–would dub a “pretty dancing movie,” Granny and Mum were fairly sure I’d enjoy it at some level, even if I didn’t completely “get” all the nuances. And, since I was a well-behaved child, they thought they could count on my not throwing a tantrum or making a scene, even if I did get a bit fed up, bored, or out of my depth.
As it turned out, I was enchanted (even though it was a matinee performance). By the scenery, the story, and the characters. It’s an experience I remember fondly and vividly.
Looking back on it, almost sixty-five years later, I wonder why that is. After all, the themes of the movie–racism, prejudice, miscegenation, illicit sex, and yes, Virginia, a bit of toxic masculinity–should, by twenty-first century standards, have sent my childish self into orbit and future lifelong therapy (and perhaps resulted in Granny and Mum being arrested for child abuse). And yet I pretty much noted them all, rolled with them all, filed them all away for future reference, and then–eventually–sorted them all out. (I think this is another reflection in support of the conclusions from my previous post.)
By the time the movie ended, I had no doubt at all about who were the “good” guys, and who were the “baddies.” Of what was “right,” and what was “wrong.” And I could see that the heroine, just like those in many of my favorite childhood stories, had learned some lessons, grown as a person, and become a better human being as a result of her travels and her travails.
That movie?
Ahead of its time in some ways. So hokey in others. But–in either way–not really a child’s movie.
Except, I found it so.
The star of South Pacific was Mitzi Gaynor. Of Hungarian descent, she was born Francesca Marlene de Czanyi von Gerber on September 4, 1931, making her today–at the age of 92–one of the last survivors of the Golden Age of Hollywood.
An established Hollywood presence, she’d been featured in several song-and-dance movies by 1958, when she was tapped to fill the shoes of Mary Martin. (Martin had performed the role for years on Broadway but was now found a bit wanting in the attractiveness and age department when it came to the big screen. Not an uncommon story in Hollywood at the time, and more-or-less duplicated in 1963, when the very classy and engaging Audrey Hepbur–not much of a singer, but fresh off her Breakfast at Tiffany’s success–had replaced Julie Andrews in the lead role of the film version of My Fair Lady.). Gaynor (a very capable song-and-dance girl in her own right) would, it was felt, fill the role to perfection.
And thus did Hollywood find its own Ensign Nellie Forbush.
And–several classics:
When she found out his deep, dark secret:
For the quote of the day:
And the finale. “Of course, there’s always a chance.”
Happy Endings! May we all find them and bring them to pass. (Perhaps this really is my theme song):
Of course, I remember other things about the movie, in particular My (future) Favorite Martian (I’d have picked another link, but most of them have either been disabled or don’t work):
I can’t get any of this “out of my heart.” Not. This. Heart.
And I don’t expect I ever will.
The Tony-award winning Broadway stage musical opened seventy-five years ago, on April 7, 1949. I’ve seen a few of the revivals myself, the best of which (I think) is the version from a number of years ago starring Kelli O’Hara and Paolo Szot. (No voice dubbing, of which–to its detriment–there was a great deal in the movie: Mitzi Gaynor and Ray Walston were the only two principals whose voices were used.
The Kelli O’Hara revival isn’t readily available anywhere (that I can find), so you’ll just have to take my word for it. It was very, very, good.
Oh, hang on. Here’s a bit of it, by the original cast, from the 2008 Tony Awards, when it was up for “Best Revival of a Musical.” (It won, BTW.)**
Here’s to happy family musical memories for us all.
**Oh, my Lord. “We got mangoes and bananas we can pick right off a tree.” I’ve only been in two places in my life where that was even possible. Those of you who’ve never done that, you have no idea what you’re missing.
