Reviews

Let me make one thing clear right off the bat: I yield to no one in my admiration for the 1936 version of SHOW BOAT. It's one of the great movie musicals, and in getting the unforgettable performances of Paul Robeson, Helen Morgan and Charles Winninger on film, producer Carl Laemmle Jr. and director James Whale did a service to posterity that future generations will be grateful for for centuries to come.

However, it was the nature of film-making in 1936, as in 1951 when MGM did their glossy remake, that the show had to be cut down to size to fit the medium. As much as I love the 1936 and like the 1951 versions, I never really understood what the big deal was about SHOW BOAT -- not until I saw this Paper Mill Playhouse production on Great Performances in 1989.

Here is SHOW BOAT restored to its lavishness of production and the epic sweep of its story. Like the original production, this one takes us through 40 years, from 1887 to the "present day" (i.e., 1927) -- from the post-Civil War South through the Chicago World's Fair of 1893 and the dawn of the ragtime era to the Charleston-dancing Jazz Age. It gives us the changing face of show business seen through the lives of the people who work in it, and the effects of time (and "the times") on four marriages: Magnolia and Gaylord, Capt. Andy and Parthy, Steve and Julie, and Queenie and Joe.

Performances are uniformly excellent. Is P.L. Brown Paul Robeson, or Shelly Burch Helen Morgan? Well, no, of course not -- but who is? Still, their performances are first-rate, both vocally and dramatically. Eddie Bracken was born to play Capt. Andy; it's a pity, perhaps, that he didn't do it 20 years earlier, but here, at 74, he still has the presence and energy the part calls for. Rebecca Baxter has probably the most demanding role in the show, aging from her teens to her 50s (plus, in this production, playing Magnolia's grown daughter Kim), and she's truly affecting; I dare anyone to sit dry-eyed through the scene where Magnolia learns that Gay has run out on her. Richard White as Gaylord, Ellia English as Queenie, Lee Roy Reams as Frank, Lenora Nemetz as Ellie, Marsha Bagwell as Parthy -- all are wonderful and can hardly be improved upon. The same goes for the huge chorus, whose vocal power on such songs as "Ol' Man River" and "Can't Help Lovin' That Man" is often thrilling. Add to this the excitement of seeing them all performing live, without prerecording, before a large and enthusiastic audience.

SHOW BOAT is the greatest work in the history of the American musical, and while most productions don't do the show justice (the less said about Harold Prince's dismal revival the better), this one proves it. It really is a shame that this truly great performance has never been issued on video or DVD (it's not too late; how about it, Paper Mill and PBS?). But those of us who had the foresight to tape the broadcast in 1989 have a SHOW BOAT for the ages, one we can enjoy and cherish to the end of our days.

I have little to add to the comments already here; this is simply a great movie and that's all there is to it. It is, in fact -- though it's seldom credited for this -- the best movie ever made from any work by Charles Dickens. Meaning no disrespect to David COPPERFIELD ('35), GREAT EXPECTATIONS ('46), or any other -- but this is the only film that actually IMPROVES on the original, with scenes that Dickens himself would surely have written if he hadn't been in such a hurry to get it published.

I will, however, boast that I was there before almost anybody: This has been my favorite version of the CAROL for 50 years, long before the general adulation kicked in (for example, it wasn't until the 1980s that Leonard Maltin's book bumped its rating from three stars to four).

One question I have (and this may be more appropriate for the message board, but I'm putting it here just in case someone can answer it and make the addition) is: Who played Martha Cratchit? She has a substantial part, yet for some reason she's not listed here. Anybody know? In any case, whoever she is, she's perfect, with her bright little heart-shaped face and chipper voice, and she deserves to be remembered (if she is still among us, will someone please relay to her the thanks of a grateful world for her contribution?).

I'll say it again: A great movie.

WARNING!: POSSIBLE SPOILERS.

I see the comments posted here, like many of the early reviews, are already going into transports of ecstasy over Gary Ross's film. But don't be fooled: it stinks. There IS a great movie in Laura Hillenbrand's book, but this isn't it, not by a long shot. Ross falsifies the story at every turn, garbling and changing facts for no good reason.

A few examples (POSSIBLE SPOILERS if you don't know what happened in real life):

Charles Howard (Jeff Bridges) was not a bicycle repairman in New York in 1910. He moved to San Francisco in 1903 and soon branched from bicycles to Buicks. He struck it rich in 1906 when the great earthquake left him with the city's only reliable transportation. By 1910 he was a wealthy San Francisco automobile dealer.

Tijuana was a mecca for Prohibition Era racing fans in the 1920s, but not in 1933; by that time, Prohibition was on its way out and racing had been banned in Mexico.

Red Pollard (Tobey Maguire) was not kicked out of the house by his poverty-stricken parents.

Charles Howard and his first wife had five children, not one.

Howard's son Frankie died in 1926, not 1931. He was 15, not 10. He was with two friends, not alone. He swerved to avoid a rock in the road, not another truck.

Howard did not pick up his second wife, Marcela, at a Tijuana racetrack in 1933; they were introduced in San Francisco by his son Lin, who was married to Marcela's sister.

Pollard lost the vision in his right eye in a riding mishap, not in the boxing ring. He kept it a secret from everyone, except possibly his wife, all his life. He knew that if word got out he would be banned from racing. He certainly would never have shouted it out to Tom Smith (Chris Cooper) in the jockeys' locker room.

Tom Smith did not see Seabiscuit for the first time at five o'clock on a foggy morning; it was on a `sweltering' June afternoon.

The fictitious Tick-Tock McLaughlin (William H. Macy) describes Seabiscuit as `the hottest thing on four legs since Hope and Crosby' presumably sometime in 1937. Bob Hope and Bing Crosby made their first movie together, "Road to Singapore," in 1940, after Seabiscuit retired.

McLaughlin, again, refers to jockey George `Iceman' Woolf by saying, `The Iceman cometh' – a clear reference to Eugene O'Neill's play. This is in 1938; "The Iceman Cometh" didn't appear until 1946.

Pollard suffered two near-fatal spills from a horse, not one. The first, not shown in the film, was during a race and was by far the worst.

There was never any question of Seabiscuit being put down over a ruptured ligament; no one with any knowledge of horses will buy this scene. At worst he would have been retired from racing and put out to stud.

Tom Smith, not Red Pollard, took charge of Seabiscuit's recovery.

END OF SPOILER ALERT

All of these points (with the possible exception of Pollard's first spill) could just as easily have been correctly filmed, at no greater expense or trouble. Instead, Ross shows a complete disregard for the letter AND spirit of Seabiscuit's story. What one commenter here called the film's "eye for detail" is, in fact, nonexistent.

(And spare me the "dramatic license" lecture. By using historian David McCullough as narrator, Ross is clearly -- and fraudulently -- pretending to be as accurate as a documentary.)

All of this MIGHT have been acceptable -- or at least forgiveable -- if the movie simply MOVED. But it lumbers, for two-and-a-half endless hours. Ross lingers over scenes with hushed reverence, as if they were stations of the cross.

And the racing scenes are almost totally botched. Ross resorts to slow-mo too often, for too long, and at the worst possible times. In the great match race with War Admiral, Ross inexplicably cuts away from the start of the race to show a succession of anonymous Americans huddled around radios; the race is half over before he comes back (to be fair, the film does justice to the wonderful "So long, Charlie" moment as Seabiscuit pulls away in the stretch). Worst and most inexcusable of all, in Seabiscuit's other great triumph, the 1940 Santa Anita Handicap, Ross ENDS THE FILM AND DISSOLVES TO THE CREDITS BEFORE SEABISCUIT EVEN CROSSES THE FINISH LINE!!! What kind of idiocy is this? The man must be mad. (And let me chortle, just in passing, at those ridiculous patched-in closeups of Tobey Maguire on his darling little bobble-head hobby horse. They don't even match the horse in the long shots.)

Laura Hillenbrand called the 1946 THE STORY OF SEABISCUIT "unforgiveably bad." This one may not be as bad, but it's even more unforgiveable. Don't bother with this bloated, leaden travesty. Read Hillenbrand's great book instead -- or see the PBS "American Experience" documentary, which gives you more of the story, gets it straight, and is less than half as long.

What on earth is going on at Masterpiece Theatre? First they produce an adaptation of "Oliver Twist" that spends half its running time on the courtship of Oliver's parents -- something even DICKENS didn't care about. Then they turn Galsworthy's Forsyte Saga into some sort of Edwardian bodice-ripper. Now comes this...this...well, frankly, travesty of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's mystery/horror masterpiece. I can't go into great detail without dropping spoilers; suffice it to say that there is just enough of Sir Arthur's plot here (including the culprit, who is given away MUCH too soon) to absolutely wreck the book for anyone who hasn't read it. Fans of the book would be wise to steer clear, lest they react so angrily that they wind up vandalizing their TV sets. The bad news is that the last ten minutes ruin everything that's gone before; the WORSE news is that what goes before wasn't that hot to begin with.

It has been rightly said that "The Hound of the Baskervilles" is the only Sherlock Holmes story where the atmosphere overwhelms the character of Holmes himself. Well, it wouldn't take much atmosphere to overwhelm THIS Holmes -- Richard Roxburgh is too puny, pretty, and bland by half. As Watson, Ian Hart is too young, petulant (not to say petty) and short-tempered; the Holmes-Watson relationship is absolutely, entirely, one-hundred-precent wrong. Again, I want to avoid spoilers, but if you're a Holmes buff and MUST see this, just listen to Watson's last line and see if your jaw doesn't drop in amazement. How any writer could even THINK of putting those words into Watson's mouth is a mystery that will confound me to the end of my days.

Giving credit where it's due, the atmosphere of the moors, with the dank skies and howling wind, is well-done. But any virtue is offset by all the bird-brained changes and additions that writer Allan Cubitt and director David Attwood insist on cramming in -- a seance and a Christmas party are the only ones I can mention without, again, spoiling.

Come to think of it -- these guys can spoil "The Hound of the Baskervilles" and get away with it, but I'm not allowed to "spoil" their lousy movie. What a world.