(On Cable TV, February 2020) As a white male superficially undistinguishable from previous generations of film buffs, I have a significant privilege in watching Classical Hollywood movies—these were movies made by people like me, often for people like me and I can usually manage to overlook the less admirable elements of sexism, racism and other characteristics often found in older movies. But that privilege is not absolute immunity, and some movies still manage to raise my hackles even when considering the historical context. Which leads me to this: I love a third of Annie Get Your Gun, I like another third of it, and I loathe the remaining third. The part I love is that it’s an exuberant, expensive musical in the grand MGM tradition: expansively staged, with a higher-than-average number of great songs and a brassy lead performance by Betty Hutton. Inspired by the life of real-life Annie Oakley, it’s about a sharpshooting rural girl who gets swept away in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show, and then into a romance. If that was all there was to it, I could still count it as a really good musical: Terrific musical numbers (“Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better” and the classic “There’s No Business Like Show Business”), fair filler, and one great lead performance. Sadly, though, the film goes the extra mile to offend with outdated sexism and even worse racism. Even by the coarse sensibilities of the 1950s, Annie Get Your Gun is embarrassingly dismissive of its Native American characters, portraying them with a mortifying succession of simple-minded clichés and reinforcement of their otherness. As a consequence, sequences of the film are actively difficult to watch, such as the disturbing “I’m an Indian too.” That’s bad enough to overshadow the dodgy way Oakley’s character is treated as someone who can only be completed by submitting to a romantic partner, somewhat undermining (by twenty-first century standards) the portrait of a strong self-reliant protagonist. Annie Get Your Gun is tough enough to recommend on the surface, but the more you know about its production history (with Judy Garland replaced during the shoot after developing severe mental health issues, and being replaced by Hutton) the more you get to the conclusion that this film might have been best unmade. If you do watch it, consider fast-forwarding past the worst moments—except that there are many of them, and they’re not all separate from the musical numbers. Maybe line up the three or four best songs and call it a day.
(Second Viewing, On Cable TV, May 2021) After a disappointed first viewing, I decided to give another chance to Annie Get Your Gun for two reasons. For one thing, it’s freshly restored from a 4K-grade effort, meaning that it’s never looked better. For another, I was curious to see if I’d feel as strongly about the film’s mortifying depiction of Native Americans the second time around. The basics of the film remain the same: This is Betty Hutton’s best-in-career show as the legendarily brassy sharpshooter Anne Oakley. This highly fanciful musical comedy, adapted from a Broadway stage play, doesn’t really care about historical accuracy when there are musical numbers, some romance, cheap gags and pure Americana to play with. The film may best be remembered for two memorable tunes: “There’s No Business Like Show Business” and “Anything You Can Do” still work really well. I still quite like Louis Calhern’s mellifluous performance as William F. “Buffalo Bill” Cody. But results from this second viewing turn out to be… mixed. While Annie Get Your Gun has indeed never looked better with sharp images and rich vivid colours (and this is a film with plenty of vivid colours!), it also underscores the studio-set artificiality of many sequences in the film, especially the faker-than-ever backdrop to “Doin’ What Comes Natur’lly.” Then there’s the whole depiction of Native Americans, which goes deep into iconography and stereotypes. It’s a vexing blight on the film, but the only reason why it’s not more than an annoyance is that it’s done in a warm comedic tone fit for a musical – unlike other low points of Native Indian representativeness in Hollywood (ugh, that Peter Pan scene), the character of Sitting Bull is allowed a few good comic lines and more depth than simply portraying an icon. Still, I would hope that no modern production of the film would include anything as tone-deaf as “I’m an Indian Too,” especially considering that the number is practically an explicit paean to cultural appropriation. While I’m warmer to some moments of Annie Get Your Gun (and considering the tumultuous production history of the film, with Hutton replacing Judy Garland at the beginning of the shoot, it’s nearly a miracle that the film ended up reasonably good), I’m just as annoyed at other moments of it.
