Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

“This will out-Disney Disney” is the tagline star Dick Van Dyke applied to his enormous family musical “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang”, which came after a string of successful projects with Disney, specifically the definitive children’s film, “Mary Poppins”. While the Disney company did not take kindly to Van Dyke’s assessment, the film has not lasted as well as “Mary Poppins”, and while that is certainly fair considering the two, “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” still offers tons of entertainment for families, as well as lovers of big splashy musicals. Released in 1968, at the tale end of “Old Hollywood”, the film cannot help but wear its heart on its sleeve throughout its prolonged 145 minute running time; perhaps it is the presence of Dick Van Dyke as absent minded professor Caractacus Potts, or the rousing score by the Sherman brothers (who previously hit gold with their work on “Mary Poppins”), but this film is an unabashedly fun, charming time. Van Dyke, who while wonderful, was squarely second banana in “Mary Poppins”, gets his chance to shine in this film, playing a less resourceful, but ultimately as winning a character as Bert the chimney sweep. Caractacus Potts is an inventor with two children who love him and his endless imagination. He lives in a windmill/laboratory with them and his father, who thinks he is still in Her Majesty’s Army. The real star of the film however is the titular car, an abandoned heap Potts seriously refurbishes to please his children, then dazzles them with a story (or is it?) in which the car swims, flies, and rescues them, all during a fantastic encounter to Vulgaria. Lost in the shuffle of the studios’ transition to edgier, “New Hollywood” fare, “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” is a classic that definitely deserves to be revisited today.

As the film begins, Caractacus’ children, Jeremy and Jemima, are playing in the broken down exterior of what was once the top racing car in all England. They implore their father to buy the heap so that it will not be sold for scrap metal, and softie that he is, Caractacus obliges. Caractacus lives for his children and is constantly inventing new gidgets that both serve a practical purpose and bring a smile to their faces. His love for his children is what wins over the heart of Truly Scrumptious, a beautiful young woman who at first admonishes Caractacus for not making his children go to school, but warms to him after she sees how the children adore him and his inventions (like “toot sweet”, his candy whistle). During their mild (this being a family film) courtship, Caractacus completely rebuilds the children’s car, and upon unveiling it, the children name it “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang”, based on the noises it makes. Unbeknownst to the family, two spies from Vulgaria are keeping tabs on the car, well aware of its prolific past and become even more interested when they see the upgrades Caractacus has made to it. While on a family outing to the beach, Caractacus begins to tell the children a story involving Chitty and the spies from Vulgaria, when suddenly the party is under attack from a Vulgarian warship! The group piles into the car and narrowly avoids capture thanks to Chitty inexplicably spouting wings and flying off of a cliff. Returning home, Caractacus finds that his father has been kidnapped by the Vulgarians, who believe he is the actual inventor of the car, and thus off they go to Vulgaria to rescue him.

The second of the film is where the more bizarre touches (which I attribute to screenwriter Roald Dahl) come into play. The country of Vulgaria is run by the villainous Baron Bomburst, a tyrant obsessed with toys and his equally devious wife, the Baroness. Because of her hatred of children, Vulgaria is patrolled by ‘the Child Catcher’, a frightening personality (he looks like Max Schrek from the film “Nosferatu”!) who creeps around the country, smelling out children with his extra large nose and imprisoning them underneath the royal castle. Jeremy and Jemima of course are captured while Caractacus and Truly are out investigating, and with the help of a kindly toy maker, duo infiltrate the castle, pretending to be parts of an elaborate present the toy maker has created for the Baron. In the film’s most inspired sequence, to protect their cover, Caractacus and Truly act out their roles as toys, Caractacus as a marionette (an amazing display of Dick Van Dyke’s incredibly elastic body and dancing skills) and Truly as a robotic doll. Of course everything falls apart when Grandpa Potts and the rest of the scientists the Baron has imprisoned to invent a flying car for him launch their attack, in the process freeing the children (who get their revenge on the Child Catcher and the Baroness), and finally everyone is rescued by Chitty. Flying back to England, the film goes into a dissolve and small children (and perhaps big ones too) are left to imagine whether or not the adventure really happened, or was simply part of Caractacus’ story. Either way, the mixture of fun, songs (my personal favorites include the aforementioned scene featuring Caractacus and Truly as toys, as well as Truly’s song “Truly Scrumptious” and the infectious title number) and adventure make this a rousing family film, one I would recommend to every member of the family though, not just the little ones.

Ninotchka

Arguably the greatest tag line ever: "Garbo Laughs". Incredible that such a simple statement would provide more than ample marketing hook; Greta Garbo is perhaps cinema's most enigmatic star, and one who was known for being serious almost as much as she was known for being mysterious. Coming to the United States in the early 1930's amidst great ballyhoo, Garbo was the ultimate foreign import: beautiful, exotic, seductive, and mystifying. Immediately put under contract at MGM, Garbo starred throughout the 1930's in a wave of hit dramas for the studio, her first prompting the tagline "Garbo Talks", and then she shocked audiences in 1939 by starring in her first comedy, hence "Garbo Laughs". "Ninotchka" is a film with an impressive comedic resume; directed by famed director Ernst Lubitsch and written by a young Billy Wilder (with his early parnter Charles Brackett), "Ninotchka" plays as you would expect: elegant, smooth, and funny. Despite the unorthodox casting of Garbo in a comedy, she really is quite perfect for the role: her serious nature and stoic demeanor are the butt of most of the film's best gags, the film also benefits from its other unorthodox casting choice, featuring Melvyn Douglas as the suave playboy Count Leon. Pundits have argued since the film's release that had someone like William Powell played this part (hard to argue with really), the film would have been better, but Douglas does his role, and the film justice, and really, the film is all about its leading lady: the great Garbo.

The concept of the film is brilliant, Garbo, playing Nina Ivanovna Yakushova, later dubbed "Ninotchka" is dispatched to Paris to oversee the sale of jewels that used to belong to the royal family of Russia. The agents initially sent to complete the transaction, a hilarious trio of rambunctious older men, Buljanoff, Iranoff and Kopalski, quickly succumbed to the pleasures of western capitalism, and instead of selling the jewels and returning to the Mother Land, have been living the lives of playboys, enjoying luxurious suites, champagne and limousines, all at the expense of the Kremlin. Also delaying the sale is Count Leon, a rougish character, who represents the Grand Duchess Swana, the jewels former owner. Intent on securing the jewels for his employer (and mistress, as the film alludes to), Leon introduces the three Russians to the romantic side of Paris, quite an appealing deterrent considering its Paris. All the fun stops however, when Ninotchka arrives. She immediately relieves the three agents of their duty (much to their dismay), and also bristles at the advances of Count Leon, who quickly turns on his charm. A funny vignette early on in Leon’s pursuit of Ninotchka occurs when the two return to Leon’s suite, both somewhat intoxicated, and Ninotchka sympathizes with Leon’s put upon manservant, then asks if Leon wants to see her battle scar. Imagining something quite different, Leon agrees and is disappointed when Ninotchka reveals a wound on the back of her neck, and regales him with the tale of when she killed the men who gave her that scar. All of this sounds serious, but when you consider Leon is trying desperately to woo her, coupled with Garbo’s impeccable deadpan, these scenes really play quite well. At first resistant to Leon’s advances, Ninotchka’s inner romantic soon reveals itself, and her icy façade begins to melt.

Leon, of course, is playing both sides of the game. But this being a romantic comedy, he soon finds himself really falling for the frosty Russian agent and plans on betraying his loyalty to the Duchess, quite the icy personality herself. Ninotchka’s transformation to full fledged capitalist comes when she purchases an obnoxious hat, see in a shop window, which she condemned upon initially arriving in Paris. The Duchess, however, is not about to lose to a Russian, and relinquishes her protest of the jewels’ transaction, on the condition that Ninotchka return to Russia immediately, without a final word to Leon. Let me say that the scene in which Leon attempts to procure a Russian visa has got to be one of the funniest Wilder ever wrote (he does not exactly take “no” for an answer). Ninotchka is wracked with guilt over her decision to leave Leon, and in a funny bit, cannot even console herself with Leon’s love letters, which the Communists have completely censored, leaving her with pages filled with thick black bars. All is resolved however, when Ninotchka convinces the cold Communist Commissar (played, strangely by Bela Lugosi!) to send her on another mission, this time to Istanbul, again on the pretext of cleaning up a mess created by the three bumbling Russian agents. Awaiting her arrival in Istanbul is Count Leon, and the odd couple is happily reunited, able to spend the rest of their days in western decadence. “Ninotchka” was unfortunately the second to last film Garbo would ever make. A few years later she made another romantic comedy, “Two Faced Woman”, but spurned by this film’s tepid reaction, she completely withdrew from Hollywood, and spent the rest of her life living in New York, never to return to movies, despite near constant requests for small roles and cameos, such was the allure Garbo possessed well into her life. The fact that this film comes at the tail end of her career gives it an extra special cache; while the famed actress was about to disappear from the silver screen, Billy Wilder’s career was just taking off. After seeing what they could achieve together, it is unfortunate they were never afforded another opportunity.