Another season of Wicked has come and gone, thank goodness. In the spirit of holiday movie musicals, we’d like to focus on a soft, grainy mid-20th-century film (one I watch every year) called Meet Me in St. Louis (1944). Whether the terminal “s” is pronounced like an elongated “ee” is a point of debate, even within the film itself, but the consensus leans toward the colloquial (i.e., St. “Louie”). The sibilant “s” may raise a few eyebrows among the film’s more die-hard fans.
Introduction
Speaking of raised eyebrows, Meet Me in St. Louis starred 21-year-old Judy Garland and was her 27th feature film. Produced during World War II by Arthur Freed of a then-thriving MGM Studios—known at that time as Hollywood’s Dream Factory—Meet Me in St. Louis features music composed by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane and an original screenplay written by Irving Brecher and Fred Finklehoffe.
Even though the role of Esther Smith ostensibly redefined Garland’s image from America’s quirky sweetheart to Leading Lady, she initially turned it down until director (and later husband) Vincente Minnelli persuaded her to take the part. The studio billed the film as a Judy Garland star vehicle—she was queen of the MGM musical by this time—co-starring child actor Margaret O’Brien, who won an honorary Academy Award in 1945 for her role as “Tootie.”
Meet Me in St. Louis is based on the novel of the same name, a series of vignettes by Sally Benson, published in The New Yorker under the title “5135 Kensington.” This address became the home for the film’s fictional Smiths: parents Anna and Alonzo “Lon” (Mary Astor and Leon Ames, respectively); their son Lon Jr. (Henry Daniels Jr.); and their four daughters, Rose (Lucille Bremer), Esther (Judy Garland), Agnes (Joan Carroll), and Tootie (Margaret O’Brien). The cast also includes Katie (Marjorie Main), the Smith family’s maid; Grandpa “Colonel Everett” (Harry Davenport); and boy-next-door John Truitt (Tom Drake).
Meet Me at the Fair
Leading up to the Louisiana Purchase Exposition at the 1904 World’s Fair, the film begins the previous summer (“Meet Me in St. Louis”) and proceeds in seasonal segments, introduced with a photograph placard of the Smith residence. The central action of the summer revolves around the love interests of both Rose and Esther Smith.
Esther is smitten with new neighbor John Truitt, a socially daft jock (“Boy Next Door”), while Rose is expecting a much-anticipated marriage proposal from Yale man Warren Sheffield (Robert Sully) via long-distance phone call from New York, which was, back then, ceremonious and expensive. “I wouldn’t marry a man who proposed to me over an invention,” housemaid Katie remarks, referring to the old coffin phone. Yet the camera pans slyly to another kind of invention in the central background—one of the film’s central motifs—the Smith family piano.
Calling Long Distance
Lon Smith returns home from work, oblivious to Rose’s potential proposal, and the family schemes to move dinner an hour earlier so that Rose can take Warren’s phone call in private, because the family phone is conveniently located in the dining room. As the plans are foiled by Lon’s insistence on a cool bath after a hard day at work, a comical scene ensues.
The family gathers at the table for their normally scheduled suppertime, and Rose, shouting into the phone, takes the call in front of everyone. However, the entire conversation is just a vague inquisition on her “health.” Warren doesn’t even propose. This scene, inspired by one of Sally Benson’s original stories, blends domestic realism with farce and never ceases to crack me up on subsequent viewings.
The Trolley Song
Later that evening, the Smiths throw a farewell party for Lon Jr., who is leaving for Princeton. The party guests partake in some good old-fashioned song and choreography (“Skip to My Lou”), and the ruckus eventually draws Agnes and Tootie out of bed (“Under the Bamboo Tree”). After hiding John Truitt’s hat so he would be the last guest to leave, Esther asks him to help her turn out the house lanterns as a romantic gesture (“Over the Bannister”), and they bid each other farewell with a firm-gripped handshake.
The next day, in perhaps what is the most iconic segment of the film, the duo travels to the World’s Fair construction site, though John nearly misses the trolley (“The Trolley Song”). This catchy tune highlights the ensemble’s frenetic excitement against Esther’s disappointment at the absence of her beau.
Halloween
In the next seasonal segment, dressed as a pirate and a hobo, respectively, Agnes and Tootie prepare for an evening of mischievous pranks, such as tossing furniture into a bonfire and throwing wet flour at the faces of neighbors on their doorsteps. Daring to throw flour at the intimidating Mr. Braukoff (who, according to the children, poisons cats), Tootie successfully pulls off the prank, thereby ritually “killing” him, and she is revered as the bravest ghoul on all of Kensington Street and allowed to throw wood scraps on the bonfire. What exactly Halloween is, in St. Louis, 1904, is anyone’s guess.
Back at the Smith residence, Rose returns home with ice cream for the family, and only just unwraps her hair when she hears screams coming from outside. The Smith women scurry about the house and find a battered Tootie, who tells them she was attacked by John Truitt. Esther, aghast at this information, runs next door and punches John in the face.
When Esther returns home, however, Agnes reveals that she and Tootie were actually playing a dangerous prank on a trolley car of passengers, and John Truitt hadn’t harmed Tootie but had protected them from the police. Further dismayed at her lying sister, Esther returns to John’s porch to apologize for the undeserved roughhousing, and they share their first kiss.
Later that night, Lon Sr. returns home from work with some news: the firm has offered him a permanent position in New York, and the whole family will be moving there right after Christmas. Dismayed, the Smith family retires to bed, except Anna and Lon, who contemplate their marriage over some light piano music (“You and I”).
Christmas Eve
As the Smiths’ moving day draws near, Rose and Esther prepare for a big Christmas Eve dance. As Warren Sheffield has asked New York debutante Lucille Ballard (played by June Lockhart, who recently passed away in October at 100 years old), Rose is left dateless and decides to accompany her brother.
Hours before the dance, John Truitt arrives for Esther with some sour news: he claims he’d taken his tuxedo to the dry cleaners before basketball practice and, because it’s Christmas Eve, didn’t think they’d close early before he could pick it up, leaving Esther also dateless. In certainly the best line of the film, John asks Esther if she hates him, which she tearfully replies, “I don’t hate you, John…I just hate basketball!” Me too, Esther. Me too.
Grandpa, heroically, hauls out his old tuxedo and takes Esther to the dance. As a harmless prank, Rose and Esther fill out Lucille’s dance card with all the worst dancers in town, but Lucille turns out to be quite sweet, suggesting that she, Lucille, pairs off with Lon Jr., and Rose with Warren. By a twist of her own guilty goodwill, Esther swaps her dance card with Lucille’s, and after she, Esther, dances with St. Louis’ worst courtiers, Grandpa finally cuts in.
As they take their last dance, Esther reminisces about leaving her life in St. Louis. Grandpa twirls her behind the Christmas tree, where she emerges on the other side, whirling hand-in-hand with none other than John Truitt in a crisp, pressed tuxedo (though where or how he obtained said tuxedo is never mentioned). A Christmas miracle.
An Emotional Finale
Outside in the cold, John proposes to Esther (Fun Fact: If you start the film at 10:22:30 p.m. on Christmas Eve, the midnight-tolling church bells in this scene directly line up with real time). Esther returns home to find an anxious Tootie, heartbroken over leaving St. Louis, waiting up for Santa Claus. Esther winds up a music box to calm her down (“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”), but the song, while a beautiful holiday classic, doesn’t produce quite the intended effect for young Tootie, who bolts outside in an emotional rage to decapitate a family of snowmen.
There are a few interesting myths regarding how Margaret O’Brien cried for this scene: (1) Vincente Minnelli came over and, cruelly, whispered to her that her dog died; (2) O’Brien’s mother told her that if she, Margaret, can’t bring the real tears, then they would just get MGM’s on-set fake-tear sprayer to come and spray her with fake ones; and (3) Supposedly, there was this rivalry between O’Brien and another child star, June Allyson.
O’Brien’s mother would just say something like, “You know, I heard that June is a better crier,” or something to that effect, which would cause Margaret to start sobbing. Regardless of the crying mythos, she summons up nothing short of a nuclear meltdown, emotionally speaking, as Tootie (again, in 1945, the Academy had made up a special award specifically for her).
And while I’ve probably spoiled more than enough of this film, I won’t reveal its sad, funny, sweet, and heartwarming ending. All I’ll say is this: “New York doesn’t have a copyright on opportunity.”
Merry Christmas.
