This is the sort of movie that you would never think belongs on a blog like this.
The negatives are flipped, the fog machines corny. The actors are transparent, their characters cliched. The lighting seems artificial, the plot seems incomplete. The whole thing is cheap in its production , even cheap in its quasi-Freudian metaphors. It’s the sort of movie that a high-schooler may come up with in about a week. Continue reading
I just wrote a brief review of Holiday Inn, Mark Sandrich’s famous musical of 1942 starring Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire. Before you read this review, you have to read that review. This is because the substance of this review will be founded on important topics that I brought up in that one. The greatness of White Christmas lies not in the fact that it is a sweet or uplifting holiday classic. It is found, first and foremost, in an examination of its place in history and its position as a piece of cinema in juxtaposition with the films that preceded it. One of the great criticisms of White Christmas is that it is just “a pleasant little piece of fluff trying to capitalize on past accomplishments.” (So wrote Movie Metropolis’ John J. Puccio.) But, it is far less a consumerist attempt to spin-off of an older masterpiece than it is a completion of the tale left untold; it is, in essence, the post-war companion piece to its war-time counterpart. Continue reading
