 |
| Pocketful of Miracles: longer, slower, yet touchingly dated |
Viewing Pocketful of Miracles, the final film by Frank Capra from 1961, led me to muse on the fading fortunes of Hollywood's pioneers in the 60s and aging filmmakers in general. An incisive take on this topic was offered by Pauline Kael in 1969:
The comic underside of the auteur theory is that if a man repeats himself
unconscionably, his readily apparent tired old gambits can be acclaimed
as proof of his great distinctive style. And if he repeats himself to the point
of self parody, then there is the joy of perceiving the old master's brilliant
new strokes...Hitchcock's new film, Topaz, his fifty-first feature, is the same
damned spy picture he's been making since the thirties and it's getting
longer, slower, and duller.💙
What Kael says about Topaz certainly applies to Pocketful of Miracles. It is literally a remake of a picture Capra made in 1933, Lady for a Day. Lady for a Day clocks in at 96 minutes, Pocketful of Miracles at a butt numbing 136 minutes. Lady for a Day has a snap and vitality that disappeared from Capra's work around the third reel of Mr. Deeds Goes to Town. It also has the raucous feel of a pre-Code talkie that is relatively absent from the 1961 remake. However, I find both Topaz and Pocketful of Miracles to be effective and moving cinema.
The general woodenness of the acting, noted by Kael, is detrimental to Topaz; especially the embalmed performances of John Forsythe and Franklin Stafford. I do think Kael misses the dark beauty of Hitchcock's mise-en-scene. I'll certainly never forget the overhead shot of Karin Dor's demise. A shot which encapsulates Hitchcock's major theme, the helplessness of individuals caught within the grasp of the powers that be, a paranoid thread that runs through Torn Curtain, North by Northwest, Notorious, Saboteur and many more.
The verities and felicities of
Pocketful of Miracles are more difficult to illustrate. Capra never seemed comfortable with the widescreen format which Hollywood seized upon after the Second World War to differentiate its product from televised fare. Because of Glenn Ford's status as a producer on the film, his role is padded and Bette Davis largely disappears from the screen during its last third. Ford is adequate, but the role would have been better suited to Frank Sinatra, who was attached to the film in preproduction, or even Dean Martin. Hope Lange, at the time Ford's girlfriend, was installed as the second female lead over Capra's choice, Shirley Jones. She is more effective than Ford, as is Bette Davis. While not quite as memorable as May Robson in the original, Davis maintains an inviting warmth and dignity even when she is swilling bottles of gin.
It is the supporting cast that is at the heart of most successful Capra films. The pleasures to be found in a Capra picture are more behavioral than pictorial. The camaraderie and individuality of the bus passengers in It Happened One Night, the family in You Can't Take It With You and the townspeople in It's A Wonderful Life are what I keep with me from these pictures. Pocketful of Miracles boasts a treasure trove of supporting performances by Edward Everett Horton, Peter Falk, Ellen Corby, Jack Elam, Sheldon Leonard, Fritz Feld, Willis Bouchey, Mike Mazurki and an uncredited Snub Pollard. Only a badly miscast Arthur O'Connell, playing a Spanish count, strikes an off note.
Pocketful of Miracles is a symphonic celebration of Runyonesque street people. However, what was spritely and new in 1933 seemed old hat in 1961. Even a champion of Capra's work, Andrew Sarris, qualified his praise of the film by writing that it was "disastrously, but touchingly dated." 💚 Others were not so kind. Cinematic output by seniors does tend to dodder: think of the later films by Carol Reed, Blake Edwards and George Stevens. On the other hand, the last films by Dreyer and John Ford are among their greatest and, thus, among the greatest films in all cinema. This is not now, nor ever has been, the majority opinion. Critics at the time described Dreyer's Gertrud as "a two hour study of sofas and pianos" and "cinematic poverty".💛 John Ford's 7 Women was released on the bottom half of a B picture double bill. It was ignored or belittled, one reviewer described it as a "maudlin, mawkish, gooey dripping hunk of simpering slush."💜 One biographer of Ford said he directed the film "without evincing any interest or creativity."💓 However, another biographer champions the film as imbued with "unequalled virtuosity and unsurpassed depths of humanity."💜 Never the twain shall meet.
Taste and mileage may vary, but I would give Pocketful of Miracles a chance if you have ever been touched or entertained by a Frank Capra film. I sometimes have an almost diabetic reaction to Capra corn, but was glad I saw this film.
This was the last film appearance for Thomas Mitchell and the first for Ann Margret. Margret is a warm and resplendent presence here and even gets to warble a few bars. Mitchell was one of the most significant supporting actors of the sound era. Subbing for an ailing Jack Oakie, he delivers a suitable valedictory for himself and the film.
💙 Pauline Kael, Deeper Into Movies, Pgs. 98-99
💚 Andrew Sarris, The American Cinema, Pg. 87
💛 David Bordwell, The Films of Carl-Theodor Dryer, Pg. 171
💓 Scott Eyman, Print the Legend, Pg. 523
💜 Tag Gallagher, John Ford, Pg. 436
