28 Nisan 2012 Cumartesi

Hollywood Halloween Treats

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Halloween is almost upon us, so Bijou Blogger Victoria Balloon performs the grave duty of digging up some Halloween DVDs for our viewers’ delight. In our grab bag of tricks and treats we have something for everyone, from little ghouls and goblins to Mummys and Daddies, too. So draw the curtains, turn out the lights, pop in any of these DVDs and relax... if you can!
First up is the cute and cuddly character named Casper, the Friendly Ghost, who is more about “Boo-Hoo” than “Boo!” Casper made his screen debut in a 1945 Paramount Noveltoon called The Friendly Ghost.

He appeared as the main spook in two more theatrical shorts before being spun off as the star of his own cartoon series. Far from being scary, Casper hated being a ghost and only wanted to make friends. This theme of unprovoked alienation dominated most of the cartoons in the series as again and again we witness Casper befriending a person or animal only to have them scream and run away when they realize he’s a ghost. In fact, Casper is so endearing that you’d want to hug him, if he only had a body.

The Best of Casper the Friendly Ghost – Volumes 1 & 2 each feature ten classic Casper cartoons along with two bonus cartoons produced between 1950 and 1959. The original Casper theme song is an added bonus on each DVD and the print quality is excellent.

If you’re looking for some monster fun but screaming at slapstick is more your style, then any of the “Abbott and Costello Meet...” movies are for you. All of the films are loosely built around classic horror legends and provide Bud and Lou with spooky backdrops for their classic sight gags and verbal exchanges.
The first of these films was Bud Abbott and Lou Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948). The two are a pair of delivery men charged with setting up the latest exhibits in a house of horrors — only the Frankenstein monster (Glenn Strange) and Count Dracula (Bela Lugosi) turn out to be the real deal. Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney Jr.) arrives from London to help Bud and Lou thwart Dracula’s evil plans, but Talbot would be a lot more help if he didn’t keep turning into the Wolfman!
Walter Lantz, creator of Woody Woodpecker, directed Dracula’s animated transformations. This was Lugosi’s second film in which he played the Count, but it’s a role he almost didn’t get — the studio didn’t realize Lugosi was still alive. Boris Karloff was offered the part of the Monster, but he refused; he thought a comedy was insulting to the character and the film would not do well at the box-office. It turned out that Bud Abbott and Lou Costello Meet Frankenstein became Universal-International's second highest grossing film of the year.
Abbott and Costello's last film for Universal was Abbott and Costello Meet the Mummy (1955). The pair find themselves accused of murdering a prominent archeologist and in possession of a sacred medallion linked with a mummy’s curse. Everyone wants that medallion — a gang of thieves wants it to find the treasure, an Egyptian cult wants it to revive the Mummy, and the Mummy wants what’s rightfully his — but Bud and Lou just want to go back to the States! This film contains the fast and funny “Shovel or Pick?” dialogue as well as Lou’s career as a snake charmer.

Although both contain original theatrical trailers and photo galleries (and the Frankenstein DVD contains a "making of" documentary with some production notes), the focus of both DVDs is the feature. Both are very clean prints and would be quite a catch for any classic monster fan.

If you seek “a hair-raising, soul stirring, nerve tingling story” or even just something to make “thy blood to creep and thy hair to stand,” check out Café Roxy’s Monster Mania (2009). Two hours of classic horror/sci-fi movie trailers from Universal, Hammer Films, William Castle and others results in a concentrated mix of B movie monster madness that will send “fangs of fear to rip reason from your mind!”
The clips contain creepy creatures, science experiments gone wrong, and undead favorites. It is a wonderful tribute to horror films from the classic to the camp, and with or without the sound turned up, running this DVD in the background will give any Halloween gathering the perfect spooky ambiance. Contains The Mad Doctor, the only Mickey Mouse cartoon in the public domain!
Grotesqueries: Ghosts, Goblins and other Magical Moving Picture Illusions from the Dawn of Cinema through 1934 is one of the finest collections of fascinating Halloween-themed short subjects on the planet! The DVD is loaded with a tantalizing mix of rare and  hard-to-find animated and live-action shorts, sumptuously presented in three acts, and concludes with a bonus chapter of special added attractions.
Some of the highlights include a pair of Felix the Cat cartoons: Felix Woos Whoopee and Felix in Sure-Locked Holmes (color-tinted with new scores); The Wizard’s Apprentice (1930), a Germanesque picturization of Paul Dukas’ descriptive tone-poem; Une Nuit Sur le Mont Chauve (1933) inspired by Modest Mussorgsky’s tone-poem, A Night on Bald Mountain. Although a difficult film to transfer to video, the results are stunning; the image is greatly improved, and the film classic has never been seen to greater advantage.

Included also is Le Spectre Rouge (The Red Spectre), a 1907 fantasy by pioneer Ferdinand Zecca, featuring a rare glimpse of the famed French Music Hall artiste, Bretteau. (The rich colors are hand-stenciled onto the original film print); the original Tom & Jerry meet graveyard stiffs, coffin keepers, and a Siren of the Sarcophagus in double potions of musical madness in a pair of cartoon delights: Wot a Night and Magic Mummy; and Fall of the House of Usher (1928), an expressionistic, dadaesque retelling of Edgar Allan Poe’s psychological thriller (color-tinted with a new score).
Grotesqueries is an entirely original programme complimented by an abundance of original graphics and new music accompanying the silent films. This spooky and surreal extravaganza was created and  realized by Rex Schneider, Chris Buchman and Steve Stanchfield - and is available directly from Blue Mouse Studio.

Once your littlest gremlins are tucked into bed, consider adding some zing to your sleepover with Monsters Crash the Pajama Party (1965). This devilish DVD celebrates the lost world of Spook Shows with 45 minutes of Spook Show trailers, 300 spooky print ads and tons of extras. Spook Shows were stage shows with real, live monsters (OK... guys in monster suits) that ran out into the audience when the lights blacked out. Young kids were genuinely terrified in those innocent days of the 1950s and 60s, while older teens knew what to do with their dates.
The 31 minute title featurette is the heart of the show. A mad doctor sets the mood for an invasion of nightie-clad damsels into his chamber of horrors. During the climax he tells his gorilla: “Big G, you go out there in the audience and get me another girl, and you other monsters go out to help him.” This cues real monsters onstage and into the theater. After much onscreen lightning and the audience blackout, the monsters return to the screen with a writhing victim. The film can be run twice more with commentaries by those who staged such Monsteramas years before today's’ haunted houses.

The Tom Stathes Halloween Cartoon Reel will raise the hair on your arms! The films are not restored and are presented “as found” — no music tracks on the silents, but many original prints were copied and there are a lot of true rarities. It includes Krazy Kat in The Awful Spook (1921, Bray); Felix the Ghost Breaker (1923, Sullivan/Messmer); Koko the Clown in Koko's Haunted House (1928, Fleischer) and many more, including the 1928 live-action Christie Comedy Goofy Ghosts. Most bizarre is Alice's Mysterious Mystery! (1926, Disney) in which dogs are kidnapped, jailed in a dungeon by a hooded captor and turned into sausages.
Finally, here’s a treat that’s full of delightful tricks: a high-quality, 50th Anniversary Edition of House on Haunted Hill, presented in widescreen by Johnny Legend, a video pioneer who released low-budget horror and exploitation films in the early days of Rhino Home Video. William Castle’s 1959 thriller still shocks and mystifies with ghoulish plot twists.
Vincent Price invites five random guests to stay overnight in a haunted house and get $10,000 if they survive. Not all of them make it. Are the ghosts real? How about that severed head? The bonus extras are true delights, starting with two trailers for House, one trumpeting the “Emergo” process (a skeleton flies over audience during the film’s climax), and trailers for Vincent Price and William Castle shockers: The Fly, Tingler, Macabre, 13 Ghosts, Mr. Sardonicus, Zotz, Straight-Jacket and more. Mr. Castle appears in many trailers to explain his latest gimmicks. Johnny himself discusses the “House” today and actress Carol Ohmart. The disc closes with Vincent Price on the Jack Benny and Red Skelton Shows and as persecuted missionary John Hayes on TV Reader’s Digest from 1955.

So many creepy classics we love, but alas, the dawn comes too soon! Many of these fiendishly fun DVDs and others are available for purchase at Movies Unlimited, or for rent on Netflix. And mark your calendars — Turner Classic Movies will be a chamber of horrors as they show a Boris Karloff marathon and back-to-back spine-tingling thrillers over Halloween weekend.
It promises to be a scream!

Captain Video in the Movies

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Long before Star Trek skyrocketed from a hit television series to the big screen, another pioneer sci-fi series had successfully navigated the transition.

While the advent of 1950s television was triggering the demise of the cliffhanging movie serials, Columbia Pictures was busy repurposing a popular late-forties live-television series called Captain Video into an exciting 15-chapter theatrical serial.

To further inform you on this early pop culture sensation we are simulposting today with Bijou friend and colleague John McElwee. John first wrote about Captain Video a few years ago on his endlessly engaging Greenbriar Picture Shows site. At that time, John was unable to locate Captain Video TV shows to view online.

Here we reprint John McElwee’s 2006 article titled Captain Video in the Movies. At long last several episodes of the original Captain Video TV shows have surfaced and right now over at Greenbriar Picture Shows John expands on this original article with his reflections on finally catching up with the television versions.
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Captain Video in the Movies

I wish I’d been ten years old around 1954 so I could look at shows like Captain Video, Rocky Jones - Space Ranger, and Space Patrol on a primitive black-and-white television with one of those peculiar roundish screens. By the appearance of (few) surviving episodes today, it must have been like watching animated cave drawings. These were puppet shows with people instead of socks. Guys would sit for thirty minutes in front of a "control panel" and talk endlessly about whatever galaxy they happened to be passing through, but we never saw anything other than painted backdrops. They say Captain Video’s TV adventures were filmed largely on an upstairs floor at a Manhattan hotel. Virtually all were unceremoniously dumped into New York harbor over forty-five years ago, so I’m unable to offer anything other than anecdotal evidence as to what Captain Video might have been like on TV, but I can tell you that Columbia’s serial spin-off is great.

They shot it late in 1951 after two years of popularity generated on the twenty-four nationwide DuMont network affiliates (we didn’t have one in North Carolina). DuMont claimed it was the first television series adapted for the movies, forgetting the previous year’s The Goldbergs, and perhaps one or two others as well. Each hand washed the other, as theatres were encouraged to promote the Captain Video series in their lobbies (broadcast Monday-Friday), while DuMont followed TV episodes with a slide announcing Columbia’s serial.

Determined to sample early TV sci-fi, I put on a DVD of some Rocky Jones – Space Ranger shows. Within ten minutes, I was slipping in and out of consciousness to the reassuring monotonic recitation of various scientific principles as they apply to space travel and quelling interstellar despots. It was like that relaxing sensation you get when you’re lying in bed and it’s raining outside. Rocky’s adventures evoked a gentle downpour on a tin roof for me -- who needs Ambien when you’ve got a sleep aid like this? Anyway, it was as close as I could get to a real Captain Video episode, but if the Videos were as economical as the Rockys, then I’ll have to say this Columbia serial, cheap as it is, looks like Intolerance beside them.

There’s the usual combination of rocket ships and 40’s sedans, each racing thither and yon to no discernable purpose, and the special effects have a way of reaffirming their determination to be as unconvincing as possible with each succeeding chapter. Animation is used to depict flights through space in much the same manner as Superman "flew" in those two Columbia serial monstrosities that preceded Captain Video. There are no women in this serial -- not one that I recall -- so you need not worry about mushy stuff, though I did ponder as to how the Captain’s youthful sidekick, "Video Ranger," could be expected to develop necessary social skills amidst such a total deprivation of feminine association, but perhaps I take these things too seriously.

The inspired use of Cinecolor allows us to view the various outlaw planets in a pleasing mosaic of tinted hues, as you can see here in captured frames. This really livened up the serial for me, even though each and all of those planets looked very much like terrain that had hosted Tim McCoy, Charles Starrett, Gene Autry, and maybe even The Three Stooges.


Speaking of Autry, there is an "army" of robots (I counted three) whose service record went all the way back to The Phantom Empire in 1935 -- and even beyond that -- having made their initial screen appearance opposite Joan Crawford in a deleted musical number from Dancing Lady (1933)!


Judd Holdren is Captain Video, or should I say Judd Holdren is Captain Video. Anyway, he's the titular character, and as it turned out, this would be one of Judd's few leads. Others have accused him of abominable thesping, as though he were reading lines off-camera not seen hitherto. Again, I don’t like to be hard on actors. Holdren is not a Gielgud. His resume did not likely include seasons at the Old Vic, and yet he’s perfect here amidst the cut-rate trappings of a Columbia 50’s serial, and so I doff my hat to his memory, and Larry (youthful woman-deprived Video Ranger) Stewart’s as well.



Captain Video delivered sockeroo coin and quickly took pride of place at the very top of Columbia’s serial grosser charts, ranking all time third highest behind Superman (domestic rentals of $856,000) and Atom Man vs. Superman ($528,000) with a tidy haul of $398,000, mighty healthy numbers for a serial in those declining years. Columbia really got behind the product too, as you’ll see from numerous tie-ins shown here.

Those Post cereals were no doubt consumed on camera during the TV show -- intergalactic warriors frequently hawked mail-in premiums and bric-a-brac.

I like that very stylish Captain Video playsuit -- I shouldn’t think a child would be remiss in wearing it to Sunday School -- sans holster, of course, though I’ve no doubt dress codes were somewhat more rigid in 1951. The Captain Video wallet probably lasted about as long as my cousin’s Famous Monsters Of Filmland billfold, which is to say no more than a month or so, though I still envied him that colorful accessory. Imagine a 1951 exhibitor ordering these comic books by the hundreds for two and a half cents apiece. What an annuity those would be today! Forward thinking showmen could build a place in Florida for what they're no doubt worth.


Major studios weren't above using Captain Video to promote their own theatrical product. Here he is selling The Rocket Man, a 1954 sci-fi comedy from Fox.

If I had the smarts to learn "Captain Video Talk," I’d probably chuck this site and apply to medical school. The serial is awash with technical mumbo-jumbo that would stump Stephen Hawking -- believe me, the words shown here are the easy ones.

The Captain Video club card was a given for any serial -- theatres would issue one to each child with the first chapter, then punch out numbers as they returned for succeeding shows -- the payoff would be a free admission for the conclusion of the chapterplay. Exhibitors were also encouraged to "invite local scientists" to a screening of the first chapter, after which they would be interviewed as to the remarkable "harbingers of future triumphs" on view in Captain Video. Those future triumphs would include but a few more Columbia serials, as the company would throw in the towel five years later with the final chapterplay of them all, Blazing The Overland Trail
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The complete 1951 Captain Video serial on DVD can be purchased at Movies Unlimited. Four episodes from the classic television series are available on DVD at Amazon.com. You can watch the first ten minutes of the theatrical serial Captain Video - Chapter 1 on YouTube, And you can enjoy a typical Captain Video TV show, complete with original Post Cereal commercials, right here on our Bijou Blog screen.

Calling Dr. Kildare!

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Today we present a Bijou Mini-Matinee from Christmas Past. But first, with healthcare on everyone’s mind these days, we got to wondering how movie docs like Dr. Kildare dealt with healthcare on America’s movie screens during decades past.
Bijou’s Victoria Balloon put the cinematic Dr. Kildare series under the microscope for a glimpse of how medical science has long been a vital component of Hollywood’s DNA. (Click film titles to enjoy original trailers!)

Before there was House and Gray’s Anatomy Americans got their Hollywood medical drama from watching Dr. James Kildare. Not the 1960s television series starring Richard Chamberlain, but a series of MGM short feature films from the 1940s.

It doesn’t take much to turn medicine into drama. The doctor who stands between life and death is a hero made for the movies, and Hollywood has known it for a long time. Classic films with plots based on period science and technology are fun to watch, and MGM’s Dr. Kildare films, based on the stories of Max Brand, present characters that are still well-known today.

The young Dr. James Kildare, son of a country doctor and fresh out of medical school, was played by Lew Ayres. Ayres won acclaim for his role as Paul Bäumer in All Quiet on the Western Front (1930) and worked steadily throughout the 1930s. Unfortunately, studios cast him as a tough guy or rich dilettante, and the roles never quite suited him. It wasn’t until he played the alcoholic younger brother of Katharine Hepburn in Holiday (1938) that he was able to demonstrate the complex mixture of gentle charm and brutal honesty that exhibited his talent.
The role of crotchety mentor Dr. Leonard Gillespie was played by Lionel Barrymore, who had been in movies since 1908 but is perhaps most remembered for one of his later roles — the devious Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life (1946). Due to a combination of arthritis and a hip injury, from 1938 on Barrymore did his acting from a wheelchair, and Hollywood scriptwriters were happy to accommodate him. As Dr. Gillespie, his presence in a wheelchair was ascribed to a very non-descript “cancer.”
While they were never really big-budget productions, the Dr. Kildare films nevertheless had genuine audience appeal and contained some of MGM’s familiar character actors — Nat Pendleton as ambulance driver Joe Wayman, always ready with a monkey wrench to help “Doc Kildare” out of a jam, and Marie Blake as Sally the hospital switchboard operator. Other actors in the MGM stable who had already established careers — Sara Haden, Gene Lockhart, Robert Young — also made appearances.
The series allowed MGM to try out new talent in different roles without taking financial risks at the box office. Child actor Bonita Granville branched out from her role as Nancy Drew in The People vs. Dr. Kildare (1941), while vaudeville veteran Red Skelton also had two early film roles in the series (The People vs. Dr. Kildare and Dr. Kildare’s Wedding Day (1941). And just after she was billed as “The Sweater Girl” for being Andy Hardy’s date, an eighteen-year-old Lana Turner appeared in Calling Dr. Kildare (1939).
The films are generally under 90 minutes, with plots that are soap opera and part medical sleuthing. The exact location of Blair General Hospital is unspecified (though it is in “The City,” with “The Country” a short train ride away), but from the polished chrome handles of the glass double doors to Sally’s sleek reception desk, the building is pure art-deco — and so is the medical equipment. There are polished X-ray machines, amphitheater operating rooms containing huge chrome lights, and oxygen tanks with an inflatable rubber bag that demonstrates how well the patient on the operating table is breathing... or in dramatic moments, that the patient has died.
The doctors don’t wear lab coats, but plain-front, high-collared short sleeved jackets that are shockingly white (no one bleeds at Blair General) while the nurses are crisply starched from their caps to their stockings. And although Dr. Gillespie may rebuke a society matron for foolishly skipping a meal to maintain her figure, everyone smokes — in the hallways, in examination rooms, or right outside of surgery.
These films presented cutting-edge of medicine of the time by tackling relevant issues, such as how social conditions and poverty affect health and how psychological trauma can have a physiological effect. They also presented as miracle cures things we now know to be unscientific, even dangerous.

For example, in Dr. Kildare’s Strange Case (1940) the technique of injecting a patient with insulin until he went into shock or coma was used to cure a patient with a mysterious brain ailment. As Dr. Kildare describes it: “A terrific shock will sometimes drive a person crazy. An overdose of insulin apparently works just the reverse; the tremendous shock it gives seems to drive the crazed brain back to sanity.” Insulin shock therapy, although a last resort, was in fact considered a viable treatment for schizophrenia until the advent of antipsychotic drugs in the 1950s. Medical scenarios such as these, though admittedly given a Hollywood touch, provide an interesting perspective on the history of medicine. (For more information on this topic, Primary Sources: Insulin Coma Therapy describes the history of this treatment and how it was used on Dr. John Nash, the mathematician features in the 2001 film, A Beautiful Mind.)
MGM made a total of nine Dr. Kildare films between 1938 and 1941, and Lew Ayres’ gentle yet determined demeanor made the films quite popular. However, with the coming of World War II, Ayres (perhaps haunted by his role in All Quiet on the Western Front) registered as a conscientious objector. An unusual stance at that time, his decision was not popular with movie audiences or with Louis B. Mayer; Ayres’ films were picketed and his contract dropped.
Up until then the Army had no rules or procedures for people willing to serve yet unwilling to kill in combat; Ayres’ request for a non-combat position set a precedent that allowed other COs flexibility in choosing how to fulfill their military obligations. Ayres eventually served in South Pacific field hospitals with the Medical Corps for three and a half years and earned three battle stars.
Ayres earned his only Academy Award nomination in 1949 for another medical role — that of Dr. Robert Richardson in Johnny Belinda. Though audiences eventually forgave him this CO status, Ayres’ career was never quite the same after the war. (Lew Ayres: The Road Less Traveled over at TCM’s Movie Morlocks is a great piece for further reading.)
Calling Dr. Gillespie!

Still, MGM was never a studio to let a good franchise go. Scriptwriters turned the focus to Barrymore’s character, and in 1942 there was Calling Dr. Gillespie, featuring all the same players plus a young Donna Reed. Later that year there was Dr. Gillespie’s New Assistant featuring another up-and-coming star MGM hoped to launch – Van Johnson. Johnson had been in other films, but up to this point his roles were uncredited or minor.
Both the studio and audiences liked what they saw of Dr. Randall ‘Red’ Adams, and in 1943 Johnson made Dr. Gillespie’s Criminal Case as well as his two breakout films, The Human Comedy and A Guy Named Joe. With his performance in Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo (1944) MGM knew they had a new star. Johnson was in the next two Dr. Gillespie pictures (Three Men in White and Between Two Women), and by 1945 his popularity had MGM casting him in major productions. Perhaps because of shooting schedules Johnson did not appear in the last Dr. Gillespie film, Dark Delusion (1947). Instead, the writers introduced a new character, Dr. Tommy Coalt, played by James Craig.
The Dr. Gillespie films were a thematic continuation of the Dr. Kildare films, presenting dramatic medical scenarios such as using “narcosynthesis” (injecting someone with truth-serum) to diagnose a case. The films also served as the same type of vehicle for introducing starlets, but with changes in the studio system, the pictures did not have the same impact on their careers. Marilyn Maxwell (perhaps best known for her USO tours with Bob Hope) and Lucille Bremer made appearances, and Ava Gardner had an uncredited role in Calling Dr. Gillespie, resulting in a larger part in Three Men in White, but of the three women, only Gardner went on to larger films (and then only after being loaned out to a different studio). Unfortunately for audiences today, the six Dr. Gillespie films have not yet made it to DVD, but do show up from time to time on Turner Classic Movies.
In some instances films that were popular when first released become so dated because of cultural views or technology that they become almost embarrassingly unwatchable. But it is precisely because the medical and scientific knowledge is dated that the Dr. Kildare films are so enjoyable today. Each contains some truly fun actors to watch, and each is a snapshot of medical practice in the early twentieth century. It is both interesting and gratifying to see just how far medical science has come in life — and in Hollywood._____________
Lew Ayres was not the first to portray Dr. Kildare on the silver screen. Joel McCrea had that distinction in 1937 when he costarred with Barbara Stanwyck, but minus Dr. Gillespie, in a Universal hospital drama titled Internes Can’t Take Money,

Ayres and Lionel Barrymore reunited in 1949 for a series of syndicated radio programs called The Story of Dr. Kildare.


Sixty of these radio episodes are available for your discovery at Internet Archive. Check out the billboard on the right with episode titles like “Barbara Lane, Dope Addict,” “Dr. Carew’s Fat Wife,” “Glaucoma,” and “Marion Lewis, Teen Age Alcoholic.”

Television was a natural for the Dr. Kildare franchise, and Richard Chamberlain (as Kildare) and Raymond Massey (as Gillespie) graced Blair Hospital for 190 small screen episodes of Dr. Kildare during the 1960’s. Unfortunately, this series has not yet been made available on DVD -- an omission that must be amended, stat!

The MGM Dr. Gillespie series is not available on DVD. Only two of the MGM Dr. Kildare’s are on DVD at this time: Dr. Kildare’s Strange Case is available for purchase at Movies Unlimited and The Secret of Dr. Kildare is at Amazon.com. Internes Can’t Take Money is available in VHS-only at Amazon.com. For those interested in checking out Dr. Kildare in print, Calling Dr. Kildare, the first novel in the series, can be purchased for a buck at Fantastic Fiction.

Jean Hersholt's Dr. Christian

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In the classic MGM Dr. Kildare films the stories revolve around progress in medicine aided by cutting edge diagnostics and technology. By contrast, the plots in the RKO Dr. Christian films involve the conflicts triggered when Tradition meets Progress. The central message being that without the humanity and compassion of traditional values, progress is meaningless (if not downright harmful).
Jean Hersholt portrayed the endearing Dr. Paul Christian in six delightful movies released by RKO Radio Pictures between 1939 and 1941. Three of them were presented during the original Matinee at the Bijou series on PBS to enthusiastic response.
While medicine is important in these films, it is more of a common-sense kind of healthcare. The real focus of Dr. Christian is his unique position as a small town doctor in the lives of his patients and the ethical responsibility he feels for their well-being -- hence the need for the good doctor to branch out into politics, busting quacks, matchmaking and inspiring local residents of River’s End, Minnesota, to become better citizens.

Dr. Christian represents Tradition, naturally. In Meet Dr. Christian (1939) and Dr. Christian Meets the Women (1940) "Victorian" is used disparagingly to describe our hero. The force of Progress is different things at different times. Of course, the hubris of Progress is always undone by Dr. Christian being true to the values he believes in.
Which is not to say that in these films Dr. C does not keep up with the times. After all, he was right that the town needed a hospital facility, and he was right that the amphetamine-driven weight loss regimen was harmful. It is Dr. Christian who developed the brain operation that saved the mayor's daughter, and it is he that recognized the use of an illegally prescribed drug and performed a just-in-time blood transfusion. Dr, Christian does embrace Progress, but only when it truly serves the needs of a patient or the community -- never Progress for its own sake.
In The Courageous Dr. Christian (1940), an outbreak of spinal meningitis threatens the residents of a slum neighborhood on the outskirts of River’s End. The children especially are vulnerable. Local politicians show little interest until the escalating epidemic begins to encroach on their own Special Interests. Things look quite grim until Dr. Christian whips out his microscope and gets down to business. The venerable doctor outwits the politicos, rescues a family from the slums and fights off the amorous predatory advances of a wealthy dowager –- all in the course of 67 minutes.
The six Dr. Christian films were populated by a fine cast of lovable continuing characters, especially Maude Eburne always on hand as the housekeeper with strong opinions and an astrology fixation. The love interest is supplied by Dorothy Lovett as Nurse Judy Price with Robert Baldwin as her beau, Roy Davis. Bijou favorite funnyman Edgar Kennedy plays the local grocer in two of the films.


Small town politics and greed once again dominate the plot in Remedy for Riches (1941). A charlatan comes to River’s End with a plot to exploit the citizenry. After buying some local property he announces that he has discovered oil and begins selling stock in phony oil wells. Dr. Christian diagnoses the swindle and exposes the unscrupulous speculators to the medicine they deserve. Edgar has some good scenes in this one.
In the final two films, Melody for Three (1941) and They Meet Again (1941), Dr. Christian focuses his healing powers on the shattered emotions and broken hearts of two talented child prodigies.
First, in Melody for Three, our beloved doc prescribes reconciliation between the feuding parents of a young violin prodigy. Fay Wray and Walter Woolf King portray the couple whose young son is emotionally distressed. The sound track includes some delightful classical violin interludes.

Then the father of a 9-year old singing prodigy has  mistakenly been jailed for embezzlement in the final film in the series, They Meet Again. Child actress Anne Bennett is impressive as daughter Janie and brings down the house during the state-wide singing contest when she bursts into an aria from La Traviata. Famed comedian Imogene Coca has a zany cameo as a love-struck paramour.

In the outside world, life may be chaotic and topsy-turvey, but here in this small-Midwest community, old-fashioned values are still important and there are people you can trust. Bad Things Happen just enough for dramatic tension, but nothing really bad ever happens in River's End -- rather like MGM’s Andy Hardy films.



The Dr. Christian film series was inspired by the exploits of a real-world celebrity doctor. In The Country Doctor (1936) Hersholt played Dr. John Luke, a character based on Dr. Allan Roy Dafoe, the doctor who assisted in the delivery of the Dionne Quintuplets in 1934.
Dafoe had become a national celebrity for his role in the quintuplets' lives, and two more films followed in which Hersholt played Dr. Luke -- Reunion (1936) and Five of a Kind (1938).
Hersholt felt a great affinity for this role and wanted to continue; when Dafoe blocked the use of the character for a series of movies, Hersholt created his own country doctor character. Because he was fond of fellow Dane Hans Christian Anderson's stories (later translating the author's work into a six volume series, "The Complete Anderson," in 1949), Hersholt called his character Dr. Paul Christian and took him to the radio.

The first broadcast in November 1937 opened with a few words from Hersholt about how "the birth of five little girls in Canada" couldn't possibly have an effect on an actor playing doctor roles in Hollywood, and yet somehow it did.From the beginning the character of the doctor was clear: he was self-effacing with praise but indignant at injustice, a little conservative with his diagnoses but nevertheless at the forefront of medicine, and always kind, but also willing to use a little psychological trickery with difficult, complaining cases. In River's End Dr. Christian cared not only for the health of people, but for their spirits.
From the 1940s on, these half hour radio dramas were often based on reader suggestions and original scripts. The show's annual-script writing competition for “The Dr. Christian Award” included a top prize of up to $2,000 and was won by such rapidly-rising young writers as Rod Serling and Earl Hamner Jr. A Newsweek article reported that some 7,697 scripts were submitted during the course of the show.


From l to r: Gale Gordon, Rosemary DeCamp and Jean Hersholt.The Dr. Christian films were a natural progression of the radio drama, but the radio broadcasts received directly into millions of homes across America from 1937 to 1954 had a more personal intimacy. Dr. Christian was the kind of doctor you wanted to have (and it almost felt like you did). CBS sponsor Vaseline was acutely aware of this. Their commercials, still preserved within the original broadcasts, were straightforward and factual, portraying their hair tonics and salves as reliable cures one could trust.

Jean Hersholt, with his affable and familiar Danish accent, is primarily remembered for his acting skills in many other distinguished film rolls. He appeared in nearly 150 films, including the poignant role of Shirley Temple's embittered but beloved grandfather in the memorable film version of Heidi (1937); his masterful portrayal of Marcus in Erich von Stroheim's silent masterpiece Greed (1924); and the Porter in Grand Hotel (1932).


One of the pages from a souvenier booklet published by radio sponsor Vaseline. View the entire booklet “Jean Hersholt’s Album of Hollywood Stars” at Bob Merritt’s Old Time Radio site.
Hersholt helped create the Motion Picture Relief Fund in 1939 and went on to help establish the Motion Picture Country House and Hospital in Woodland Hills, California, dedicated to providing medical care to fellow members of the motion picture industry when they were “down on their luck” and needed help.

In 1956, The Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences established an Honorary Academy Award category known as The Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award, given periodically to an “individual in the motion picture industry whose humanitarian efforts have brought credit to the industry.” Hersholt himself was honored by the Academy with two special Academy Awards for his philanthropic work; once in 1940 and again in 1950.

Also in 1956, Hersholt’s Dr. Christian radio and film creation came full circle when Ziv Television Productions founder Frederick Ziv contracted with Jean Hersholt and associates to develop 39 episodes of Dr. Christian for the 1956-57 TV season. The lead character was established as Dr. Christian’s nephew, Dr. Mark Christian, asportrayed by a popular actor named Macdonald Carey and scripted by Gene Roddenberry of Star Trek fame.

ZIV Television Productions during the 1950s was a prolific producer of content for first-run syndication, which Ziv marketed to local and regional sponsors, who then placed them on local stations outside of prime time. Ziv used this formula to create and deliver such iconic early TV series as The Cisco Kid (1949-56), Highway Patrol (1956-59), Science Fiction Theater (1955-57); and Sea Hunt (1957-61), to name a few.

The final act of Hersholt’s life played out much like a poignant and bittersweet finale to many of his Dr. Christian stories. When Frederick Ziv approached Hersholt about his pro-posed TV version of Dr. Christian, it was known that Hersholt was dying of cancer. Nonetheless, for the premiere episode, a gravely ill, 95 lb Jean Hersholt mustered the courage to be on hand in River’s End just long enough to turn the keys to his medical practice over to his TV nephew. He died shortly after filming wrapped on June 2, 1956, and only a few weeks prior to his 70th birthday. Jean Hersholt’s real-life nephew is actor Leslie Nielsen.___________________________

All six films in the Dr. Christian series are available separately or in a deluxe box set from Movies Unlimited.
The first ten Dr. Christian radio programs spanning the 1937-38 season, complete with old Vaseline commercials, are available for listening at the Internet Archive For the complete listing of all Dr. Christian programs broadcast, check out Jerry Haendiges Vintage Radio Logs.

 For Hersholt’s 25th screen anniversary, radio sponsor Vaseline published a souvenir booklet called Jean Hersholt’s Album of Hollywood Stars This tribute is a wonderful collection of facts and publicity stills you can browse online.

For his humanitarian efforts and translations of Hans Christian Andersen’s tales into English, in 1948 King Christian X of Denmark knighted Hersholt. Hersholt’s translations are still considered the most comprehensive and can be read online at Jean Hersholt: The Complete Anderson.

Great thanks to Victoria Balloon for her contributions to this article.