Determine the sentiment:

"San Francisco, Oh you marvelously desolated town, Thank You, God, for destroying it, and making bricks fall on our collective heads, and for pummeling into oblivion tens of thousands of Your innocent, obedient sheep, oh Lord, who art so merciful in thy Heavenly ways..." These should have been the lyrics to the title song of this oh-so inspiring and utterly mindless film.

The movie starts well enough, with Gable discovering a Cinderella with a highly annoying but much-appreciated operatic voice, and she soon shoots to stardom. One of the many problems with our Cinderella is that she is played by Jeanette MacDonald, who, if one "takes the time" to look through all that make-up and 30s glitz facade, realizes that she is kind of ugly. Too ugly to be playing THIS role, anyway. Yet Gable and everyone else fawn all over here as if she were some damn beauty or something. Another problem with Cinderella is that her character is so utterly humble, wholesome, innocent, God-loving, kind, and generous - enough to make you vomit for a full hour. MacDonald plays her (admittedly one-dimensional) role with the sort of "ahhh", "oh", and "ooh" that serves to annoy rather than make her sympathetic.

Tracy has been better, and had better roles, than playing this clichéd, heart-of-gold, God-loving, non-child-molesting priest (who boxes in his "free time" - as if priests have anything to do - how cute). Even the ever-reliable Gable is not up to his usual standard; he is far too animated, and his character is far too selfless for someone who is supposed to be an ambitious Western "scoundrel" (though this, obviously, is the script's fault).

The plot is basically this: Gable and his rival Holt play ping-pong with Cinderella - using her as the ball. How? Well, first she is working (singing) for Gable, then she works for the square Holt, then she goes back to Gable, only to return very soon to Holt. (And, of course, both want to have her as girlfriend/wife.) And if the earthquake hadn't interrupted this table-tennis plot, it's a safe bet that she would have been bouncing back-and-forth another ten times, the wishy-washy little princess that she is.

There are many, far too many in fact, musical numbers. It's almost as though they tried to make the first "disaster-movie musical" ever. How silly. The stuff she sings in Gable's "joint" is okay, but when she starts belting out those high-pitched, annoying whines during the opera segments, that is when I felt that my ears were unprovokingly and unjustly attacked by enemy sound-fire. In fact, there is an opera number that lasts 6 DAMN MINUTES. 6 may seem like little, for those who haven't had first-hand Vietoperanam experience with such horrors of audio torture, but it's like with dog years; a dog's year is equivalent to seven human ones. A minute of opera is equivalent to 100 minutes of Chinese torture (or a dog urinating acid on your leg).

I thought this was a disaster movie, but it's more like a near-disaster movie. (I read that some of the dialog in this film was written by a SILENT-ERA FILM DIRECTOR. Jesus...) The melodramatic, and only occasionally amusing, proceedings get interrupted by the real star of this movie (namely, the earthquake), only after well over one-and-a-half hours. When Joe the earthquake finally does shake up the city, and our clichéd characters in it, I almost felt like saying "Thank God, death and destruction are finally here!". Unfortunately, Joe comes too late into the movie to save it from its increasing mediocrity; the scenes of devastation are very good, but even the earthquake part of the movie gets ruined (pun) by a highly annoying, religious ending. You see, Gable, who professes to be an atheist all along (without actually using the word itself), finally finds MacDonald alive - after having searched for days - and suddenly he is converted into a believer because Cinderella is alive?!! How stupid! All that tells me is that Gable's character is a weak-minded moron.

The movie ends on a very dumb note, indeed. Gable, having said "thank you" to God for "saving" his girl (and he does his on his knees) "finds" God (sees the light), and the movie's little old devil Gable converts himself into a believer. How very God-fearingly American an ending...

Of course, no one thought of asking this "God" why the hell there was an earthquake in the first place! The sad and unintentional irony is that Gable in the end becomes a "sucker"; all along he had made fun of "suckers" who fall for the holiest scam of them all - namely religion - and in the end he himself becomes one. Now that's what I call a triumph of the human spirit! Another irony is that the ending was supposed to have improved Gable as a person, but I see it quite differently; on the contrary: it took only one big Joe to turn Gable into a God-fearing, meek, little, obedient believer - who joins the world's sheep family. And as if this intellectual downfall of Gable's wasn't pathetic and disappointing enough, this first-ever "earthquake musical" ends with a truly hair-raising (take this word as you will), noble, and hope-inspiringly beautiful mass-choir scene: dozens (or hundreds) of earthquake survivors and proud, proud citizens of Frisco spontaneously (or did "God" perhaps arrange it?) sing all together the title song in hope for a better, brighter, Joe-less future. Hallelujah! If you are a "sucker" for Hollywood sentimentality, do not skip this movie.
OPTIONS:
- negative
- positive

negative