"There's a land that I've heard of..."

Rating: 10/10 (23 March 2010)

Forget about polls and box office records. In real terms The Wizard of Oz is almost certainly the most beloved motion picture of all time. It glitters among the brightest jewels of the most effective movie-making factory in cinema history, in the industry's undisputed golden age.
Oz is of course a timeless masterpiece, enjoyed by every new generation that discovers it. However, much of its secret is in how much a product of classic-era Hollywood it is. Rather than simply turn the book into images, the writers and producers' aim was to meld the story around the best elements from contemporary movie lore. The dialogue, and in particular Yip Harburg's lyrics, are full of the wisecracks and wordplay of 1930s comedy. Herbert Stothart's arrangements of Harold Arlen's sublime melodies have the same playful harmonic style that he used for the popular Jeanette MacDonald musicals. Even the art design references the fashions of the day – the Emerald City looks like nothing less than an art deco hotel! And of course the ingenious decision to shoot Kansas in sepia and Oz in Technicolor expresses the wonder of that vibrant and at the time relatively novel process.
But really the most Tinseltown thing about Wizard of Oz is its cast. People like Frank Morgan, Billie Burke, Ray Bolger and Bert Lahr aren't acting in the sense of submerging themselves and trying to become the characters they play. They are doing the reverse; playing the characters in the style of their own persona. Whatever role he appeared in, Frank Morgan always played the part of a lovable charlatan, fumbling his words and bluffing his way through. Billie Burke was perennially fussy and mumsy, and was only ever a wand away from being a fairy godmother. Bolger, Lahr and Jack Haley did not have quite the high-profile screen personas of Morgan and Burke, but they were nevertheless the kind of comedy-novelty players upon which the Hollywood musical thrived.
And the directors were not of the arty, individualist "auteurs" that mainstream film theory has reserved for posterity. King Vidor (who directed the Kansas scenes) and Victor Fleming (who directed almost everything else) were professional studio employees. Nevertheless each had their particular strengths they brought to a project, and, even though it is coincidence that the switch was made when it was, each is ideally suited to the material they are responsible for. Vidor was very much the romanticist of the outdoors, and his measured pace and beautiful shot composition give the right note of sentimentality to the place Dorothy calls home. Vidor's delicate camera-work for "Over the Rainbow" adds to the enchantment of the number. He keeps Judy Garland at the centre of the screen, but gently pans and tilts to bring the horizon and then the sky around to frame her, keeping the image moving in time with the music. Fleming on the other hand was a man of action, and he gives a punch and dynamic rhythm to the vivid fantasy world.
The Wizard of Oz may be fashioned in the Hollywood style, but studio production was more than just a collection of gimmicks and trimmings. They really knew how to tell stories. The movie adaptation transforms a cute fairy tale into an epic fable about wanderlust, homesickness and finding one's true self. Its appeal is universal and timeless because it speaks so sincerely to its audience. And to do so with such wit and beauty is really what cinema is all about.