Myrna Loy, in her autobiography
Being and Becoming, wondered about the modern nostalgia for the war years, as evidenced in both movies, and things people had said to her over the years. Why would people look back fondly on such a time, she wondered, which was full of terrible fears and tragedies. I see her point; I suppose people who look back are seeing those years through rose colored glasses, thinking about (or imagining, if they weren’t there) the good things, and not the bad. Another thing that lends itself to happier memories is the fact that we know now how it turned out -- a happy ending. I love big band music, including
WWII songs (and also movies), and one theme that I can see the appeal of is the unity; there were clear cut good guys and bad guys, and from what I can tell, not many people questioned that, especially after Pearl Harbor. Not that people shouldn’t question, but compare our country’s attitude towards that war with, say, Vietnam, or the current war in Iraq. I can’t imagine our country, or at least a good majority of it, throwing itself behind a war like they did in WWII ever again. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.
My own nostalgia goes back a decade farther, so the 1930s, when most of my favorite movies were made. I won’t list them all here, because the list is too long, and if I haven’t talked about them already, I soon will. The atmosphere of those movies, besides being so beautiful and glamorous, is one of an age that was sometimes rich and easy, sometimes poor and difficult (but of course not
too difficult), but always…simpler. At least that’s how it seems to me. And yes, of course I know that this is Hollywood, and everything is covered with a patina of happiness, whether it’s a slapstick comedy, or a tearjerker that doesn’t seem bright until the end. I do know that life is never so simple as a movie. Yet the innocence that the studios put into their movies must have existed to some extent out in the world, I choose to believe. After all, this was the era when no one locked their doors, or so my grandfather told me.
An example of that very thing is the beginning of the 1933 movie
Hold Your Man, which I’ve talked about before. Ruby is in the bath when Eddie bursts into her apartment, on the run from the police (he is a penny ante con man, no one dangerous). Ruby shrieks when Eddie runs into the bathroom, and he immediately goes back out. She comes out in her (ostrich feather trimmed) robe and demands to know what’s going on. Eddie coaxes Ruby to help him, and he hides in her tub (under a layer of suds) eluding the police with her help. Flirtatious banter ensues, Ruby dries his pants in her oven (ha), and Eddie takes off when Ruby’s neighbor comes to call (for a cup of bathtub gin). After realizing he’s sneaked out the bathroom window, Ruby runs to her dresser and shakes her piggy bank, whistling in relief when she finds that Eddie didn’t steal the money.
Now imagine that scene today. Granted, we still have the "encounter a stranger who changes your life for the better" premise in movies, but more it’s more likely that Eddie would be some psycho featured on
America’s Most Wanted, and Ruby would be a crack dealing hooker, or worse (rather than just the "good time gal" she is in the movie). Either Eddie would attack her and she’d end up as this week’s victim on
Law & Order SVU, or she’d have a gun and blow the intruder’s brains out. Never in a million years would they fall for each other and get married for the sake of their baby and for love, which is how Ruby "holds her man." No, today she’d have to go on
Maury to prove paternity, if she ever got the kid back from foster care, since he was born while she was in prison.
See what I mean about simpler times?
Let’s take another example: Mary Haines from
The Women. Mary finds out her husband Stephen is having an affair (sex is somewhat implied but never addressed directly) with a girl at the perfume counter of a department store, Crystal. They have it out in the fitting room of a boutique after a fashion show. Mary’s pride is hurt, and she goes to Reno and divorces him, making some lovely new girlfriends in the process. Mary suffers no other hardships, presumably living quite well on her alimony. Two years pass, Mary find out her ex is unhappy in his new marriage and that Crystal has a new paramour. She exposes Crystal (with the help of her pals and the friendly neighborhood gossip columnist, played by Hedda Hopper), and ends the movie by rushing back into her husband’s arms. "Pride! That’s something a woman in love can’t afford," she says happily.
Again, set the movie today (and I’ve heard that Hollywood is
remaking The Women, which is an appalling idea). Mary, Crystal and Stephen would all end up on
Jerry Springer, taking off their clothes and throwing chairs at each other. Mary would be lucky to get child support from Stephen, would have to go back to work, and most likely suffer financial hardships. Or if they were celebrities, their divorce documents would be on
The Smoking Gun and tabloid photographers would follow them everywhere. There would be an ugly custody battle, Mary’s friends would talk to the tabloids, and Little Mary would need years of therapy to recover.
I’m sure terrible and painful things like this did happen to people back then, but I don’t imagine them to be as bad as things can get today. Maybe that’s naïve of me, and maybe I am buying too much into the MGM version of the world at that time. Yet I hear stories about my grandparents and great-grandparents, and I think…no, it’s not entirely false. Things were not always hearts and flowers, but they also weren’t as ugly as some things get today, either.
This is not to say that I wish we could, or think we should, go back to those times. As the saying goes, it’s a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there. If I had kidney failure like Jean Harlow did, I would want to live in a world where there are transplants and dialysis, not 1937 when my only option would be a slow, painful death. And I may love vintage phones, but I love the Internet more. Still, when the world around me becomes too ugly or scary or annoying to deal with, it’s lovely to know that I can put in a movie and go back to simpler times.
See how I wrapped up the essay with the title? Clever, eh? ;)
One of my favorite Harlow posters. Not my favorite Harlow movie.
My all time favorite Crawford poster. I thought the movie was blah. Look at that hair! And I like the script at the top.
I love the look of her face, although not the skin tone.
I love the poster and the movie in this case. Ann Sheridan is just beautiful. 
A little over the top, but still gorgeous. 
I just like the yellow, and the heads of the cast members.
