When discussing his new film, producer Arthur Freed declared that he would make it “into the most delightful piece of Americana ever.” With the nation in the grip of the Second World War, the Hollywood studios, while hoping to simultaneously inflame public hatred of the Nazis and quieten any fears of defeat, stampeded to produce films which accordingly celebrated patriotism and encouraged escapism. This began in 1939 with the release of blissful, romantic epics such as
Gone with the Wind and
The Wizard of Oz, and resulted in the production of many films throughout the 1940s which showcased plucky heroes and family values, from Disney’s
Pinocchio to John Ford’s
The Grapes of Wrath (both 1940). Perhaps one of the most memorable and beloved of these, however, is
Meet Me in St Louis (Minnelli, 1944). The film’s eternal appeal is not difficult to pinpoint; the casting of well-known favourites such as Judy Garland, Mary Astor and Margaret O’Brien combine with a repertoire of relentlessly memorable songs, from the catchy and cheerful “The Trolley Song” to the wistful “Boy Next Door,” to perfectly capture and deliver the public need for hope over anxiety. What struck me most about Meet Me in St Louis, however, was the filmmakers’ willingness to address the American fear of displacement at this time, and turn this into an unforgettable yet meaningful film.
A lengthy and expensive scriptwriting process was just the beginning of the uncertainty and trouble that shadowed the production of
Meet Me in St. Louis. The Sally Benson stories on which it was based were digressive and anecdotal, and so had to be vastly cut down, eliminating scenes in several new locations as well as a whole other family of characters. The result lends a very insular, almost stifling feel to the film, with the family as a community coming first, and very few scenes taking place outside of the home set. Even as the world comes to St Louis, in the form of the 1904 Purchase Exposition, the film is still entirely concerned with the fate of the Smiths and their little household, whose entire story hinges on their unwillingness to leave town and live somewhere new. Minnelli celebrates this fact even with Esther’s closing line, “Right here where we live. Right here in St. Louis.”
In making one of the most charged and unusual musicals of Hollywood’s prime era, Vincente Minnelli manages to perfectly blend his genius in both the genres of musical, such as the opening scene in which the title song is seamlessly picked up by different members of the Smith family, and melodrama, for example within the dark, long takes of the Halloween sequence. In my opinion, it is in its treatment of its themes that
Meet Me in St Louis most excels. The fears of change, movement and unfamiliarity which were driving America at the time are addressed and reassured within the film, from the showpiece trolley sequence, the family values and the near worship of the titular hometown. Minnelli manages to inject pathos and joy at precise moments, allowing the film’s influences on the audience to be fine-tuned so as to provide maximum effect.
