Freddie Bartholomew – Movie Musings

Well-made, coming-of-age story with two very fine leads and a heart-tugging ending

Director: Victor Fleming

Cast: Freddie Bartholomew (Harvey Cheyne), Spencer Tracy (Manuel Fidello), Lionel Barrymore (Captain Disko Troop), Melvyn Douglas (Frank Burton Cheyne), Charley Grapewin (Uncle Salters), Mickey Rooney (Dan Troop), John Carradine (‘Uncle Jack’), Oscar O’Shea (Captain Walt Cushman)

Harvey Cheyne (Freddie Bartholomew) is a hard kid to like. Scion of Henry Ford-like American tycoon Frank Burton Cheyne (Melvyn Douglas) he’s an arrogant, entitled snob who believes he is deserves anything he wants because Daddy has never-empty pockets. The servants in his father’s estate can’t stand him, his prep school classmates only pretend to like him and even his teachers think he needs to be taken down a peg or two. Suspended from school, his father (upset at what his son has become) hopes a trip to Europe will help Harvey grow-up. But, en route, Harvey is lost at sea and picked up by the fishing boat We’re Here. Despite his objections, they have no interest in cutting short fishing season by three months to take him straight back and slowly Harvey finds himself rather enjoying fishing life, helped by his growing bond with salt-of-the-Earth Portuguese fisherman Manuel (Spencer Tracy).

Adapted from a Rudyard Kipling novel – despite what you might think, Harvey and his father are also American in the original – Captains Courageous is a surprisingly sweet coming-of-age tale, mixed with a surrogate-father-son relationship, well-directed by Victor Fleming and strongly played by the cast. The cast spent months bobbing up-and-down in a giant water tank to bring the film to the screen, and it’s a tribute to Fleming’s direction and Harold Rossen’s sharp camerawork that it often genuinely feels like a film pulled in from the seas like Manuel’s fishes.

It also has some wonderful chemistry between its two leads. Freddie Bartholomew, one of the biggest (and most skilled) child stars of the 30s, had a hard task here: appearing in virtually every scene, he has to turn a character who most viewers would love to give a cuff around the ear too, into a kid we end up admiring. Captains Courageous doesn’t shirk at stressing Harvey’s arrogant, self-absorbed unpleasantness: he treats the servants like talking furniture, brags about his editorship of the school magazine (a position bought for him by his father’s purchasing of their printing press) which he feels with dull articles (essentially ‘what I did on my holidays’) and shamelessly uses his father’s money to bribe people (including his schoolmaster, who he loans $50 to then casually mentions it would be great if the history test could be made easier).

He is, in short, a total brat and that only starts to change on We’re Here. Bartholomew’s trick is to do just enough to suggest a decent kid buried under the surface here, even when he’s demanding the ship turn round to take him home or assuming his ship-mates will settle into playing servants for him. He and the film slowly reveal his childish enthusiasm waiting for an outlet. With a distant father, you get the feeling Harvey felt acting like the pampered, entitled wealthy man was the only way to impress him. Captains Courageous is rather endearing in showing how he flourishes when faced with pushback by someone (Manuel) who gives him genuine attention, teaches him things and won’t take his nonsense (in the way nearly every other employee in his life does).

Bartholomew’s thoughtfulness, vulnerability and eager-to-impress energy makes for a great combination with Spencer Tracy’s jovial warmth as Manuel. Tracy – who won an Oscar – was later rather self-critical of his curly-haired ‘liddle feesh’ accented-fisherman, generously claiming his success was partly due to Bartholomew. But Tracy’s work here is endearing, funny and unforced, making Manuel a mix of big brother and father, full of energy and joi d’vivre, with exactly the sort of easy-going happiness in small things (catching a big fish, playing music, even swabbing a deck) that Harvey never has. Tracy also brings out Manuel’s strong morals and his respect for others – it’s no surprise that he has no truck with Harvey’s cheating in a fishing competition.

In fact, Manuel’s response to this (deep disappointment, throwing the competition and firmly telling Harvey he’s no fisherman) is exactly the sort of firm-but-fair parenting, with a moral education, that Harvey needs. But Manuel is also a fierce defender of him when he admits his mistakes and also offers the sort of direct, in-person support and regard for Harvey that his own father failed to do. (There is a lovely reaction shot from Tracy – one of the best reactors in movies – of warm pride when Harvey admits blame). The two actors have a natural, easy bond which is genuinely endearing. Manuel even becomes as keen for the boy’s good opinion (bashfully clamming up when Harvey reacts with shock to his talk of ladies). Captains Courageous allows Tracy to be as playful, loose and fun as he ever has.

The staging and design of the fishing boat is marvellously done, the actors having clearly (and impressively) done their homework around the tying of knots, casting of lines and rowing of oars. Lionel Barrymore gives a fine salty sea-dog (with a hidden heart of gold) as the captain, with Mickey Rooney echoing him as his eager son and John Carradine scowling as Manuel’s rival fisherman. There is a genuine sense of energy and vibrancy in all the fishing and sailing scenes (despite some, at times, less than convincing back projection), with Captains Courageous more than holding its own with epics of the sea.

Of course, you are not perhaps surprised that the film is also heading towards a tragic end, as so many coming-of-age tales do. But it’s extremely well-done and, thanks to the playing of the cast carries real emotional impact, not least through Bartholomew’s and Tracy’s poignant performances. There is also a mature and tender coda to Captains Courageous about the nature (and difficulties) of fatherhood, adding further depth to a character study of a young boy that genuinely sees him grow and develop in a way that feels neither sickly sweet nor forced – and has a real warmth and joy to it. Full of impressive staging and with a wonderfully played relationship between Bartholomew and Tracy, it’s a fine, heart-warmer turned tear-jerker.

Frank Lawton, WC Fields and Roland Young bring Dickens to life in David Copperfield

Director: George Cukor

Cast: Freddie Bartholomew (Young David Copperfield), Frank Lawston (Old David Copperfield), Edna May Oliver (Betsey Trotwood), Elizabeth Allan (Clara Copperfield), Jessie Ralph (Peggotty), Basil Rathbone (Mr Murdstone), Herbert Mundin (Barkis), Jack Buckler (Ham Peggotty), Una O’Connor (Mrs Gummidge), Lionel Barrymore (Daniel Peggotty), Violet Kmeple Cooper (Jane Murdstone), Elsa Lanchester (Clickett), Jean Cadell (Emma Micawber), WC Fields (Wilkins Micawber), Lennox Pawle (Mr Dick), Lewis Stone (Mr Wickfield), Roland Young (Uriah Heap), Madge Evans (Agnes Wickfield), Hugh Williams (James Steerforth), Maureen O’Sullivan (Dora Spenlow)

You could argue David Copperfield is one of the most influential films ever made. David O Selznick was desperate to bring Dickens’ favourite novel to the screen. But the MGM suits were convinced it couldn’t be done (800 pages in two hours?! Get out of town!) and anyway who would want to come to the cinema when they could read the book at home? They were wrong, wrong, wrong and Selznick proved that classic literature (even if it was a cut-down version of a great book) could be bought to the screen and capture at much of the spirit of the book, even if you couldn’t dramatise all the events. David Copperfield remains very entertaining, not least because it also showed you can’t go to far wrong when you assemble an all-star cast who fit their characters perfectly.

The story of the film pretty much follows the novel (with exceptions, deletions and abridgements). Young David Copperfield (Freddie Bartholomew, growing up into Frank Lawton at the half-way point) grows up loved by his mother (Elizabeth Allan) and nurse Peggotty (Jessie Ralph), but loathed by his step-father Mr Murdstone (Basil Rathbone) who barely waits five minutes after his mother passes away before dispatching David to a factory in London. There David forms a bond with the charming exuberant Mr Micawber (WC Fields) before deciding to walk to Canterbury to seek the protection of his aunt Betsey (Edna May Oliver). Growing into a young man, he faces romantic problems, the schemes of the vile Uriah Heap (Roland Young) and the betrayals of his schoolfriend Steerforth (Hugh Williams). Will all turn out well?

Stylistically, David Copperfield aims to be as true to the novel as impossible. It’s designed to look as much as possible like a series of Phiz sketches bought to life and the actors have clearly studied both novel and illustrations to craft themselves as much as possible into living, breathing representations of their characters. Well scripted by Hugh Walpole (who also cameos early on as a Vicar), the film manages to be faithful without being reverential and tells an engaging story with momentum – even if the pace accelerates a little too much towards the end.

Walpole’s adaptation splits the book into two acts: the childhood of our hero and his life as young man. Giving an idea of how the momentum accelerates towards the end, this basically means the first hour of the film covers the novel’s opening 200 pages, leaving the last hour to hurry through the remaining 600. This means several characters and events are deleted, simplified or removed. However, Walpole still manages to retain all the truly vital information and iconic material, and recognises most of the striking material is found in that first 200 pages.

This childhood story is very well told, partially because Freddie Bartholomew (while he has touches of school play about him) is an affecting and endearing actor, who makes the young David a kid we care about rather than either an insufferable goodie-two-shoes or a syrupy brat. He’s a smart, kind, slightly fragile boy who we end up caring about – and it gives a real emotional impact when his mother dies (a very tender Elizabeth Allan) or to see him misused by Mr Murdstone (a perfectly judged performance of austere coldness by Basil Rathbone). Little touches of joy in his life – like the time he spends at the Peggotty’s converted ship home (a perfect representation of its description in the book) are really heartwarming, because David himself is such an endearing fellow.

It does create an obstacle for Frank Lawton when he takes over, since the audience is asked to try and bond with this new actor having already committed their hearts for just over half the run time to another. Lawton also has to deal with scenes rushing towards the conclusion rather than getting character beats like Bartholomew. Cuts impact his key relations: his school friendship with Steerforth is relayed second hand, meaning Steerforth turns up only to almost instantly let everyone down; Dora Spenlow and Agnes Wickfield get only brief screen time to establish their characters. The schemes of Uriah Heap are barely explained (he’s just a hypocritical wrong ‘un, okay?). It says a lot that the last fifteen minutes rush through the deaths of three major characters, a shipwreck, a dramatic confrontation, David travelling the world and a resolution of romantic tensions. It’s the only point when the film feels like its ticking boxes.

But it doesn’t completely matter (even if a two-part film would have helped no end – particularly allowing Lawton more room to develop a character) since the performances are so good. Expertly marshalled by Cukor – who rarely introduces visual flair, but coaches pin-perfect turns from the entire cast – every role is cast to perfection. None more so than WC Fields, for whom Wilkins Micawber became a signature part. Replacing Charles Laughton mid-filming (he claimed he looked more like he was about to molest the boy), Fields keeps his own accent and some of his own persona, but still fits perfectly into the Dickensian larger-than-life optimism and good will of Micawber. His comic timing is spot-on – watch him climbing over a roof or bantering with David and his family – and he seems like he has just walked off the page. If there had been a Supporting Actor Oscar in 1935, he would almost certainly have won it.

He’s the stand-out of a host of excellent performances. Edna May Oliver is very funny and has a more than a touch of genuine emotion as Betsey Trotwood. Jessie Ralph is excellent as Peggotty. Lennox Pawle makes a very sweet Mr Dick. Roland Young is the very picture of unctuous hypocrisy as Uriah Heap. Only the young women get a little short-changed: despite her best efforts, Madge Evans can’t make Agnes Wickfield interesting and Maureen O’Sullivan is rather cloying as Dora.

But the film itself is pretty much spot-on for the tone of Dickens, even if events are rushed. The impact of the Peggotty/Steerforth story is lost since we are never given the time to get to know any of the parties involved, and certain plot complexities are only thinly sketched out. But Cukor marshals the actors perfectly and throws in at least one striking shot, of Murdstone appearing in the distance as the camera follows a cart bearing David away from his mother. It always looks just right and the characters that do get the time are perfectly played, so much so that a few performances (Fields, Oliver, Young) may even be definitive.

David Copperfield proved you could turn a doorstop novel into a film and, even if you sacrificed some of the complexities (and might need to rush to fit it all in) you could still produce something that felt recognisable and true to the original. So, for that – with the mountain of adaptations that followed – we have a lot to thank it for.