(As I can't count Rudyard Kipling's "Captains Courageous" among the classics of the English language I had the chance to read, this is the film I'll be judging, not the adaptation).
Victor Fleming was the man behind two of the most iconic Golden Age classics: "The Wizard of Oz" and "Gone With the Wind", even more impressive the fact they were made the same year, an achievement infinitely superior to his solo and rather academic contribution two years before with "Captains Courageous". The seascape is beautifully photographed and the obligatory storm sequences convincing enough for a film that thrives on escapism, but even that aspect wouldn't have amounted to much, had the central child performance failed.
Thankfully, it didn't.
In fact, what struck me in "Captain Courageous" is how highly competent it was in conveying the right emotion at the right time with a Swiss-watch exactitude that would become the trademark of a certain Steven Spielberg, who directed a few bad movies but never badly directed kids. Similarly, Fleming (as he'll do with Judy Garland) offers one of his best roles to Freddie Bartholomew as little Harvey Cheyne, the spoiled and bratty son of a business tycoon or the antithesis of his other celebrated role as Little Lord Fauntleroy.
Now this is a film that starts with a rich kid who'd go as far as bribing and libeling his own schoolmaster (Donald Briggs) and concludes with his desire to become a fisherman. I'll credit Bartholomew's professionalism again for having personified a common trope and made him a more complex character, never making me feel that the epiphanic effect of his experience was far-fetched. Convincing and sincere he was to the degree that the writing could neutralize that little 'cynical' gland I battle every time I watch an "old movie".
While the film is no storytelling landmark. The first act was pretty entertaining even within its expositional status, in fact it could have made a film by itself. It's a detailed depiction of a boy whose status as an orphan on the mother's side immunized him to the kind of legitimate displays of authority that could've straightened him out. Harvey considers himself entitled to behave like a jerk because money can buy, if not happiness, the kind of contentments that satisfy his self-assuredness.
What works is that Bartholomew is precocious but not in the intelligence-insulting away: he's still a kid who doesn't realize when he's overplaying it while Melvyn Douglas doesn't play his father like a total idiot either. I was pleasantly surprised by the civilized way the one incident too many was handled with Walter Kingford who plays the school doctor and diplomatically explains that junior is 'rusticanned' (a jargon term for a sort of temporary exile that would allow the father and son to fix the broken stuff). Papa Cheyne gets a ticket to London aboard a steamship, and the real adventure picks off once Harvey is washed overboard and rescued by a Portuguese fisherman. His name is Manuel Fidello and he's played by Spencer Tracy.
Now I believe Tracy is one of the greatest actors of his generation, one who didn't need a method to be natural. But I had to pause the film a minute and google 'Manuel Fidello Tracy Chico Marx', I don't know if it was intentional, but I kept thinking of the Marx brother with the Tyrolean hat, the curly hair and the Italian accent. Don't get me wrong, Tracy's body language and delivery are good but all the apparatus put around his "Fidello" seem to stand as a 'method' and if not bad, at the very least is distracting.
The distraction doesn't last however because Harvey's evolution is compelling and Fidello's influence is so good that somewhere in our subconscious, it makes one with the performance. And while Tracy won an Oscar, "Captains Courageous" is an ensemble film and Lionel Barrymore is as commendable as Captain Disko who -I suspect- might have made audience theaters enthusiastically cheer when he gave the kid that overdue slap. John Carradine is severely underused as Long Jack. Honorable mention to Mickey Rooney and a fine gallery of character actors to add that touch of colorfulness (Charley Grapeswin, Sam McDaniel etc.).
Always within the realm of credibility of the story, these sailors provide the perfect contrast to the gray-flannel tenderfeet and their business jargons for Harvey. Little by little, Harvey learns how to mop the floor, cut the fishes, rely on Mother Nature, more importantly to respect the elder and own up to his faults, and is so busy working that he doesn't have time to act like a brat even if he wanted to... while the big wave slaps salty breeze of the sea washes out the last relents of snobbishness. A hymn to the virtuous humble man that miraculously avoided populism until what had to happen did happen.
During the climactic storm (God forbid a journey like that could go without endangering anyone) old brave Fidello had to let himself sink into the water (the Jack Dawson way) to save the boat .... I didn't expect the film to be sad and it understand it had to tie the coming-of-age story together, and made its sneakily prepared eulogy to the sacrifices of fishermen. I didn't dislike the ending but rather the new dimension it gave to Fidello's likability, that went from the good-natured father-figure to an object of lyrical sanctity hammered on us through a long candle-burning scene designed to make us weep for San Manuel.
Not a bit of humor, not a little edge in that expertly manufactured tear-jerker, not even a single moment that could allow Mr. Cheyne to complete the work initiated by Manuel. So many good sentiments, pious faces solemnly gazing at the horizons, and high-spirited monologues that I felt entrapped on a boat about to sink in an ocean of tears. Sometimes, there's just too much melodrama one film can sustain without bordering on emotional manipulation... my cynical gland couldn't resist.
Victor Fleming was the man behind two of the most iconic Golden Age classics: "The Wizard of Oz" and "Gone With the Wind", even more impressive the fact they were made the same year, an achievement infinitely superior to his solo and rather academic contribution two years before with "Captains Courageous". The seascape is beautifully photographed and the obligatory storm sequences convincing enough for a film that thrives on escapism, but even that aspect wouldn't have amounted to much, had the central child performance failed.
Thankfully, it didn't.
In fact, what struck me in "Captain Courageous" is how highly competent it was in conveying the right emotion at the right time with a Swiss-watch exactitude that would become the trademark of a certain Steven Spielberg, who directed a few bad movies but never badly directed kids. Similarly, Fleming (as he'll do with Judy Garland) offers one of his best roles to Freddie Bartholomew as little Harvey Cheyne, the spoiled and bratty son of a business tycoon or the antithesis of his other celebrated role as Little Lord Fauntleroy.
Now this is a film that starts with a rich kid who'd go as far as bribing and libeling his own schoolmaster (Donald Briggs) and concludes with his desire to become a fisherman. I'll credit Bartholomew's professionalism again for having personified a common trope and made him a more complex character, never making me feel that the epiphanic effect of his experience was far-fetched. Convincing and sincere he was to the degree that the writing could neutralize that little 'cynical' gland I battle every time I watch an "old movie".
While the film is no storytelling landmark. The first act was pretty entertaining even within its expositional status, in fact it could have made a film by itself. It's a detailed depiction of a boy whose status as an orphan on the mother's side immunized him to the kind of legitimate displays of authority that could've straightened him out. Harvey considers himself entitled to behave like a jerk because money can buy, if not happiness, the kind of contentments that satisfy his self-assuredness.
What works is that Bartholomew is precocious but not in the intelligence-insulting away: he's still a kid who doesn't realize when he's overplaying it while Melvyn Douglas doesn't play his father like a total idiot either. I was pleasantly surprised by the civilized way the one incident too many was handled with Walter Kingford who plays the school doctor and diplomatically explains that junior is 'rusticanned' (a jargon term for a sort of temporary exile that would allow the father and son to fix the broken stuff). Papa Cheyne gets a ticket to London aboard a steamship, and the real adventure picks off once Harvey is washed overboard and rescued by a Portuguese fisherman. His name is Manuel Fidello and he's played by Spencer Tracy.
Now I believe Tracy is one of the greatest actors of his generation, one who didn't need a method to be natural. But I had to pause the film a minute and google 'Manuel Fidello Tracy Chico Marx', I don't know if it was intentional, but I kept thinking of the Marx brother with the Tyrolean hat, the curly hair and the Italian accent. Don't get me wrong, Tracy's body language and delivery are good but all the apparatus put around his "Fidello" seem to stand as a 'method' and if not bad, at the very least is distracting.
The distraction doesn't last however because Harvey's evolution is compelling and Fidello's influence is so good that somewhere in our subconscious, it makes one with the performance. And while Tracy won an Oscar, "Captains Courageous" is an ensemble film and Lionel Barrymore is as commendable as Captain Disko who -I suspect- might have made audience theaters enthusiastically cheer when he gave the kid that overdue slap. John Carradine is severely underused as Long Jack. Honorable mention to Mickey Rooney and a fine gallery of character actors to add that touch of colorfulness (Charley Grapeswin, Sam McDaniel etc.).
Always within the realm of credibility of the story, these sailors provide the perfect contrast to the gray-flannel tenderfeet and their business jargons for Harvey. Little by little, Harvey learns how to mop the floor, cut the fishes, rely on Mother Nature, more importantly to respect the elder and own up to his faults, and is so busy working that he doesn't have time to act like a brat even if he wanted to... while the big wave slaps salty breeze of the sea washes out the last relents of snobbishness. A hymn to the virtuous humble man that miraculously avoided populism until what had to happen did happen.
During the climactic storm (God forbid a journey like that could go without endangering anyone) old brave Fidello had to let himself sink into the water (the Jack Dawson way) to save the boat .... I didn't expect the film to be sad and it understand it had to tie the coming-of-age story together, and made its sneakily prepared eulogy to the sacrifices of fishermen. I didn't dislike the ending but rather the new dimension it gave to Fidello's likability, that went from the good-natured father-figure to an object of lyrical sanctity hammered on us through a long candle-burning scene designed to make us weep for San Manuel.
Not a bit of humor, not a little edge in that expertly manufactured tear-jerker, not even a single moment that could allow Mr. Cheyne to complete the work initiated by Manuel. So many good sentiments, pious faces solemnly gazing at the horizons, and high-spirited monologues that I felt entrapped on a boat about to sink in an ocean of tears. Sometimes, there's just too much melodrama one film can sustain without bordering on emotional manipulation... my cynical gland couldn't resist.