Canteen series

  • Stage Door Canteen (1943)

    Stage Door Canteen (1943)

    (On TV, March 2020) What you should know before watching Stage Door Canteen is that it’s very much based on a true story. During World War II, Hollywood stars (led in part by Bette Davis) financed and staffed a canteen for soldiers on leave from 1942 to 1945—as a photo opportunity for Hollywood’s commitment, it was beyond ideal. But the Hollywood Canteen was preceded by New York’s Stage Door Canteen, which drew upon Broadway talent to operate the establishment. That relative lack of cinema star power on the east coast was quickly fixed when Hollywood adapted the concept for revue-like musical Stage Door Canteen. The story, about a serviceman dating a stewardess encountered at the canteen, is a mere device to string along musical and comedy acts in a recreation of what could have been the experience of sitting in the canteen on its best nights. (While this film does mention the no-fraternization rule between hostesses and servicemen… it then goes on to ignore it. There’s no real way around the implied “prostitution for the country” aspect of having hostesses entertain the troops, although it’s not quite as off-putting as a similar subplot in sister film Hollywood Canteen.) Still, the main reason to watch Stage Door Canteen is the various cameos, bit parts and performances. Of note is Ray Bolger’s dancing, the chastest stripping routine ever performed by Gypsy Rose Lee, as well as short cameos by Katharine Hepburn, Tallulah Bankhead and Johnny Weissmuller, among many others. What’s equally entertaining is the way explicit propaganda is worked into the film as if it was perfectly normal—Gracie Fields singing “Machine Gun Song” (a funny song about a jet pilot shooting down other planes) has to be the crowning moment of that aspect of the film. To twenty-first century viewers, though, the entire film is a remarkable cultural artifact: a reflection of an entirely different wartime, a weaponized blend of propaganda entertainment and a glimpse as people who were stars in their own time but, as of now, have all more or less fallen into obscurity. Sic transit gloria and all that—but I’m happy that something like Stage Door Canteen exists to capture it all.

    (Second Viewing, On Cable TV, April 2021) Considering that Stage Door Canteen is the twin film to Hollywood Canteen, a recent second viewing of one quickly led me to the other. Much like the real-life Hollywood Canteen (opened October 1942) attempted to replicate the success and good will of the real-life Stage Door Canteen (opened March 1942) in having Broadway stars servicing US servicemen, this 1942 film is a first capture of something that would be imitated and perfected in the later 1944 film. Both plot and approach replicate its sister film, as a serviceman falls in love with a member of the canteen (a volunteer rather than a star this time around), and several celebrities appear in-character as performers or volunteers at the Canteen. In between the short bursts of fictional dramatic scenes, we get a front-row seat to some of the acts performing at the canteen – essentially a revue show. That too is very much in-sync with the other Canteen film – except that this time around, the arcs are heavier on the music and a bit less on the comedy. There’s one striking exception, though: A “striptease” number from the legendary Gypsy Rose Lee, both cute and funny because, as her performance constantly reminds the leering sailors, there’s a hard limit to how much she can take off. It’s probably the most innocuous striptease you’ll see, as well as one of the funniest – and it’s a great showcase for her. While Stage Door Canteen doesn’t have as many Hollywood stars as the first film, it does feature an exceptional assortment of bands: Count Basie, Benny Goodman, Kay Kyser and Guy Lombardo can all be seen here. Other good comedy/musical numbers include Edgar Bergen having fun with a ventriloquist puppet, a “Machine Gun Song” combining novelty song with patriotism and Katharine Hepburn showing up at the end. While inferior to Hollywood Canteen in most respects, this earlier film does one thing better, and it’s being somewhat self-aware of the terrible optics of offering the hostesses as love interests for the boys: While there is some romance-rewarding-the-troops, the film does begin with the character being fired because of excessive fraternization with the soldiers. It’s not much, but it’s already a bit better than the borderline-prostitution plot of the other film. As with many revue shows, Stage Door Canteen is often best appreciated as a document of past entertainers showcasing what they did best – the Lee number alone is fantastic, and that’s before getting into the band leaders.

  • Hollywood Canteen (1944)

    Hollywood Canteen (1944)

    (On Cable TV, May 2019) Here’s what you need to know about Hollywood Canteen: During WW2, Hollywood celebrities got together and paid for a club in Los Angeles exclusively reserved for servicemen on leave where they could get free drinks and meals. Adding to the appeal, glamorous movie stars donated their time by actually bartending and waitressing for patrons of the place. This is all true—although accounts of the place usually underplay the considerable Pro-Hollywood publicity value in this arrangement. Further adding to the mystique is this film, not a great one but a fascinating time capsule of propagandist wish fulfillment that shows WW2 soldiers enjoying a few days in Los Angeles and spending time at the Hollywood Canteen where they get a chance to rub shoulders with movie stars. (Lost to twenty-first century audiences is the idea that when this film was shown to servicemen overseas, they could have been these guys.)  The film itself, once past the bare-bones setup, is a series of performances by Hollywood then-stars at the Canteen, effectively turning the film is a series of variety show sketches while the film’s protagonists kiss Hollywood starlets, empty sandwich trays or watch the acts with mouth agape. If some scenes make you somewhat queasy at the way the actresses are offered to soldiers for kisses, then you do have a good grasp at the hierarchy of values presented here, elevating the fighting soldier on a special pedestal. Hollywood Canteen remains both a wartime propaganda film, and a revue of who was who in Hollywood at the time—some of them featured in the movie, others referenced through dialogue. Many of the jokes are obscure now that the stars are gone—Jack Benny gets a laugh from the characters just by showing up, for instance, leaving twenty-first century audiences puzzled for a few moments. It’s fun to see some Hollywood stars in a far more relaxed environment, though—especially Bette Davis in a more comic role. The Canteen acts as a pretext, as the characters have adventures around town, our protagonist gets to romance a movie star and we tour the Warner Bros studios of the time. It’s actually quite a fun movie even with the propaganda material … but it works far better as a reminder of a bygone era.

    (Second viewing, On Cable TV, February 2021) I first saw Hollywood Canteen barely two years ago, but since I’ve spent much of the intervening time deepening my knowledge of classic Hollywood, revisiting it felt like a different experience. This is true of most films if you’re interested in the vast meta-narrative of Hollywood, but it’s particularly relevant in discussing Hollywood Canteen, as it’s a film that relies a lot on celebrity cameos for effect. The plot of the film remains the same from a first viewing to a second: it’s a fictionalized homage to the real “Hollywood Canteen” that, during WW2, offered free meals, refreshments and entertainment to servicemen on leave in the Los Angeles area. Thanks to the effort of notables such as Bette Davis, Hollywood studios pooled their resources and stars for the upkeep of the place, and it wasn’t rare to see a screen legend serving tables at the Canteen. The result was a propaganda victory for Hollywood, and fuel for fantasies involving soldiers and starlets. Alas, this aspect makes it intact in the film, as there’s a truly uncomfortable amount of time and attention lavished on named stars granting kisses and weekend getaways to the film’s fictional soldier characters, each of them over the moon to get some personal attention from their screen favourites. The film is at its worst when focusing on Joan Leslie playing “Joan Leslie,” an object of lust for many but luckily snagged by our protagonist as the millionth G.I. to enter the Canteen. Blech. But plot is the least of Hollywood Canteen’s worries when there’s a stream of musical numbers and comic cameos to act as a revue musical. That’s when a second viewing comes in: Cameos can be more mystifying than satisfying if you’re not familiar with the actors making a winking walk-on appearance, but they pay off the more you’re familiar with the comic point being made. 1944 audiences had no trouble catching the various jokes, allusions and parodies in Hollywood Canteen, but modern audiences will be tested on their knowledge of early-1940s pop culture — and specifically the Warner Brothers roster of stars. Having brushed up on my classic Hollywood in two years, I now knew who was Joe E. Brown and now could appreciate the donut gag as intended. The more you know about the character actors at the time, the more you can appreciate the bit with S. Z. Sakall and his cheeks, or Sydney Greenstreet hamming it up menacingly with Peter Lorre. My growing appreciation of Ida Lupino went up with every word of French she spoke (a gag made even funnier by Victor Francen’s follow-up), and so did my slow-burn liking of Bette Davis as she came onstage to explain the genesis of the Canteen. I’m not as up to speed when it comes to musical stars, but even I could appreciate the Andrew Sisters, Roy Rogers and his horse Trigger, the rather funny “You Can Always Tell a Yank” (which eerily sounds like a Disney song for reasons I can’t quite figure out), duelling violins and the background music by Jimmy Dorsey and his orchestra. Even the second time around, I maintain that Hollywood Canteen is somewhat distasteful as a narrative, but I grew much fonder of the remaining three-quarter of the film, as a comic musical revue.