Sullivan's Travels (1941)
Written & Directed by Preston Sturges
1998 List Ranking: NA
2007 List Ranking: 61
As I’ve said before, there are many things that interest me in completing these lists. From seeing classic films for the first time, to seeing innovations in cinema, or seeing performances by long-heralded actors, nearly every film has some sort of interest to me. This film, Sullivan’s Travels, has the appeal that, like a few others on this list from this era of Hollywood history, I went into it not knowing what to expect. Going into the films of Chaplin, Keaton, and the Marx Brothers, I knew that I’d be getting a comedy of some sort. I knew that Mr. Smith Goes to Washington would be a drama.
I knew nothing about Sullivan’s Travels. Nothing.
So therefore I was pleasantly surprised that the film is a comedy, a comedy that, while it offered few out-loud laughs, was still rather enjoyable, and had a great message woven through it. Add to this that it’s a film about Hollywood and making movies, and it’s a recipe for a fairly good time.
Sullivan’s Travels depicts John Sullivan, a popular director of comedy films, who wants to make a soaring, epic dramatic film. The problem is, he’s basically been raised with a silver spoon: how can he tell a story about the poor and the downtrodden when he is not, nor ever has been? Therefore, he sets off to pretend to be a homeless bum, to try and live amongst his subject as a way to experience their plight of life. Along the way, he meets The Girl (who, apparently, can’t be bothered to be given a NAME), a struggling actress who is about to quit Hollywood altogether. She decides to join him in his study, hijinks ensue and are overcome, and generally there’s a happy ending.
As Sullivan, Joel McCrea does an excellent job of convincing the audience of his ambitions, even if he fails at most things we see him do. McCrea, who I’d only seen once previously, and many many years ago, in Hitchcock’s Foreign Correspondent, is never not believable, and he brings an air of naturalness to his character, an attribute sorely needed in a film where things get a little kooky at times. His costar, however, doesn’t fair as well. Veronica Lake is like a walking stereotype, albeit in the wrong film. Her attitude, delivery, and appearance are extremely noir-ish, with a bored facial expression, a clipped and speedy delivery, and hair that sultrily falls over one eye frequently. It’s not necessarily a bad performance, it’s just bad for this film. Even when she softens up later in the film, it still isn’t enough to counterbalance the strange acting choices she’s making in this comedy.
As I mentioned, there wasn’t a lot of out-loud laughter to be had in the film, but I still found it pretty entertaining. In particular, the bus chase sequence near the beginning of the film was hysterical, as Sullivan and a young driver lead a bus full of reporters on a zany chase through the countryside, featuring lots of slapstick and visual gags. As my husband pointed out, it’s very reminiscent of my favorite Mickey Mouse cartoon, 1938’s Mickey’s Trailer (Mickey and his faithful dog Pluto actually make an appearance, via the short Playful Pluto, late in the film as a key plot point). There’s also a fun bit where, posing as a handyman, Sullivan is the unwitting aim of the amorous advances of Miz Zeffie, who makes it nearly explicitly clear exactly what she wants, if you catch my drift.
There is also, surprisingly, a few different uses of montage in the film, the primary one being Sullivan and The Girl’s longest attempt at living homeless. It goes on for quite a while, but it does an amazing job at portraying the different struggles their fellow men encounter on a daily basis: from bad food to stolen shoes, it’s all portrayed nearly wordlessly, and it’s actually more moving than if they discussed what was going on as it occurred to them.
One very notable aspect of this film is its treatment of Black people. A mere 26 years earlier, The Birth of a Nation showcased White actors in blackface, depicting awful stereotypes. Here, Black people are portrayed much more sympathetically; the church scene is particularly moving, as it showcases just basic human goodness, and there isn’t a blackface actor in sight. It’s a small advancement, but it was really nice to see that bit of progress.
There are a couple instances of blatantly acquiescing to the Hays Code of the time: when a homeless man attacks Sullivan and steals his money, he is promptly HIT BY A TRAIN (which, granted, creates an actual plot point that raises some stakes BUT STILL). That sort of behavior was just not tolerated by the Hays Office, so it makes sense that he’d get his comeuppance. Additionally, because Sullivan needs to end up with The Girl (because it’s Hollywood), his wife is depicted as awful, demanding money from Sullivan constantly but actually being in love with his business manager. It’s sometimes fun to see the lengths that filmmakers have to go to uphold the “moral standards” of the time.
What really makes this film special is the somewhat self-referential final line in the film. When announcing that he is going to return to making comedies, Sullivan states that “There’s a lot to be said for making people laugh. Did you know that’s all some people have?”. Often, comedies are overlooked as not being as prestigious as their dramatic counterparts (I’M LOOKING AT YOU, ACADEMY OF MOTION PICTURES ARTS AND SCIENCES), but there’s a reason the symbols of acting are the dual masks of comedy and tragedy. Life is about balance, and sometimes, the light is there to banish the dark, and it’s something we should all appreciate.
FINAL GRADE: B+