Meet John Doe

Frank Capra crafts a confused message movie with Meet John Doe (1941). Ostensibly another Capra film extolling political activism, its commentary winds up garbled and nonsensical. Fortunately, it works okay as a straightforward comedy.

Angry reporter Ann Mitchell (Barbara Stanwyck) publishes a letter by a fictional "John Doe" threatening to kill himself protesting social iniquity. The letter proves a popular smash, and publisher D.B. Norton (Edward Arnold) insists on propagating the story to further his political ambitions. Ann selects vagabond John Willoughby (Gary Cooper) to fill the role, and John's plainspoken demeanor proves just the ticket. John's speeches inspire a genuine mass movement, rising Norton to a presidential contender. When John discovers the charade, the whole movement threatens to unravel. 

Capra's earlier populist epics Mr. Deeds Goes to Town and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington play it safe by being apolitical. The movies are cynical about the political establishment but maintain a certain idealism and belief that the common man can change it. By avoiding political designations, Capra won't alienate his audience while pushing home the truism that the system is corrupt: one imagines both Glenn Beck and Michael Moore watching Mr. Smith and envisioning themselves in the lead. 

Meet John Doe is a different kettle of fish. Capra provides the ostensible message is that grassroots movements are swell until co-opted by the establishment. John is sincere enough to believe his message of goodwill and cooperation, but we see Norton's crew organizing John Doe clubs across America. The movement has obvious appeal but it's obvious the System's twisting it for its own benefit. Downplayed, of course, is that the System itself created the movement, or that their actual platform has no substance beyond the brotherhood of man.

It's an observation shrewd in some ways, but also obvious and problematic. Genuine populism in America is virtually non-existent, save extraordinary exceptions like the Civil Rights Movement. Today's Tea Party movement is funded by billionaires like the Koch Brothers, while George Soros bankrolls leftist groups like Code Pink and MoveOn.org. In a country generally apathetic or hostile to activism, joining "the System" is the only way for most movements to get ahead.

For a movie made in 1941, its commentary on mass politics are remarkably tin-eared. Waiting for a rabble-rousing savior, explicitly compared to Christ (!), to deliver us from "the System" invites all sorts of unsavory implications in the era of Fascism in Europe and Father Coughlin in America. Capra tries to fudge this by focusing on John's message, but it scarcely registers when this is vague quasi-socialist gush about "the people." How can it be valid anyway when the message is, to begin with, a fraud? There's a thin line between idealism and demagoguery which Meet John Doe, in all its warm mushiness, is too unsophisticated to delineate.

As a light dramedy, Meet John Doe works fine. Capra and writer Robert Riskin keep a brisk pace, with creative montage work and direction. The movie gets some big laughs, especially John's cynical partner (Walter Brennan) ranting about capitalist "helots" corrupted by creature comforts. The lead romance is appealing, with Cooper and Stanwyck recapturing their chemistry from Ball of Fire. With its appealing stars and clever humor, it will certainly appeal to moviegoers looking for a pleasant evening in.

Gary Cooper turns on his gruff Everyman amiable to full effect here. Barbara Stanwyck is nothing less than charming, mixing sweetness with tough-minded ambition. Walter Brennan steals the show in inimitable fashion, proving an improbable oracle. Edward Arnold, James Gleason and Gene Lockhart occupy colorful supporting roles.

Meet John Doe is entertaining but problematic. Don't give its message overmuch thought and you'll have fun. Groggy isn't the sort of viewer to take films on face value, however.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939) is one of the greatest films ever made. Frank Capra's ode to American democracy maybe be corny and implausible to some, but it succeeds through pure sincerity and emotional power.

A Senator from an unnamed Midwestern state suddenly dies, and political bosses scramble to fill the seat, as a bill to construct a lucrative dam in their state is up for a vote. Senator Joseph Paine (Claude Rains) suggests to political boss Jim Taylor (Edward Arnold) to appoint Jefferson Smith (James Stewart) to fill the seat, assuming he'll be a yes man. The naive Smith is awe-struck by Washington, and draws up a plan for a national boy's camp - on the very ground where the dam is to be constructed. Attempting to save the dam, Taylor and Paine try and besmirch Smith's reputation. With the help of faithful assistant Saunders (Jean Arthur), Smith engages in a filibuster, determined to rout the forces of corruption and win a victory for democracy.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington belongs on the same plane as Ford's Young Mr. Lincoln, as an idealized portrayal of the American system. Parts of the movie play as a civics lesson, but this material is woven deftly into the plot and never becomes dull. Mr. Smith's enduring appeal is seeing American democracy in action, and seeing it work: contemporary audiences scared by the rise of Fascism across the Atlantic had to have been assured by Capra and Stewart's earnest message, and our current situation makes it that much more poignant. Perhaps democracy doesn't really work this way, but it ought to.

On the other hand, Capra is rather scathing towards the reality of the political system. Taylor commands all the media and business, sending hired goons to destroy opposition press, break up pro-Smith rallies and bully his Boy Rangers; hard to imagine today, but representative of a time not far off from Boss Tweed. Paine is tragically rendered as a good man dragged into the muck, so far gone from his idealism that he can't even see. Declaring Capra merely a master of sentimentality is reductive and short-sighted; in this and other films, the "Capra-corn" is balanced by razor-sharp cynicism.

The film works primarily because Capra is such a master craftsman. Capra sells his potentially cornball beliefs with sincerity and power; he's compeletely honest and straightforward, and the result is both creditable and heart-rending. Everything in this film is pitch-perfect, from the straight-forward but effective direction and Dimitri Tiomkin's poignantly-arranged score, to Al Clark and Gene Hablick's impressive montages and Sidney Buchman's eloquent script. Subplots, like Smith's romance with Saunders, are deftly woven into the main story. Not a frame seems superfluous, and the result is a gripping, richly-textured film.

James Stewart gives a beautiful performance, making Jeff Smith one of the great heroes in Hollywood history. Stewart shot to stardom after this film, establishing his enduring screen image: honest, well-meaning, all-American, the little man standing up for what's right. Arguably his best performances came working against this image (Vertigo, The Naked Spur), but it's hard to argue with the sheer emotional power of Stewart's big scenes here, from his awe-struck monologue about seeing the Capitol for the first time, to his hoarse-throated filibuster at film's end.

Claude Rains gives perhaps his best performance, making Paine a credibly tragic, conflicted figure. Jean Arthur (Shane) does well as the cynic whose heart is melted by Smith's honesty. Great character actors like Thomas Mitchell (Stagecoach), Edward Arnold (Command Decision) and silent film star Harry Carey (Red River) fill in key supporting roles. Dub Taylor (The Wild Bunch) can be spotted as one of the journalists hectoring Smith early on.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is such a powerful, earnest and moving film that it seems Grinch-like to raise any criticisms. It's about as perfect as a movie can be, and is a must-see for all cinephiles.