Cavalcade (1933)
(YouTube Streaming, December 2019) Not all Oscar winners age gracefully, and Cavalcade often does feel more dated than many of its contemporaries. This may have been inevitable given the subject matter: the life of a few English characters from 1900 to 1933, through the tumultuous first decades of the twentieth century. It’s not exactly a cheery topic—thanks to wars, bar-fights and shipwrecks, several characters die along the way. Adapted from a Noel Coward play, the film came with impeccable Hollywood pedigree which probably explained its critical and box-office success. But from a contemporary perspective, Cavalcade has a few issues. Putting aside our knowledge of how the first thirty-three years of the twentieth century were merely an appetizer for far worse eras, Cavalcade is saddled with a tepid rhythm, episodic structure, flurries of short subplots, and early-cinema clichés. While some sequences work well (the montage that accompanies much of WW1, for instance), other moments land with a thud—the April 14, 1912 Ocean Liner sequence is utterly predictable and almost plays as comedy as the doomed characters maintain an extended bout of happy patter before the camera reveals that they are on (dum-dum-DUM!) the TITANIC. Oh well; clichés must come from somewhere, right? There’s an annoying stop-and-go quality to the plotting that’s also bothersome: Almost half of the period’s duration from 1918 to 1933 is skipped over through a very moralistic montage, illustrating the perils of tying plot to world events rather than take a more organic approach. There’s also something to be said for the character’s stoic approach to tragedies—as part of the whole British Stiff Upper Lip tradition even if it may mute some of the emotions. Sets and costumes are quite good in a theatrical fashion. I still liked parts of Cavalcade—it’s certainly fascinating in a time-capsule kind of way—but even limiting myself to 1933, I can think of more interesting and far more influential films who should have walked away with the biggest Academy Award. But if we’re going to start playing the “Who should have won the Oscar instead?” game, we’re going to be here all night.