Cabin in the Sky

 

Louis Armstrong and his horn

John “Bubbles” Sublett

Minnelli with Billy Rowe, Lena Horne, and Melvyn Douglas

Ethel Waters, Duke Ellington, and Vincente Minnelli

Ethel Waters, Eddie “Rochester” Anderson, and Lena Horne

CABIN IN THE SKY            B-                                                                                                 USA  (98 mi)  1943  d: Vincente Minnelli

How in the world am I gonna reform if I don’t remember what a mess I was in when I was dead?                —Little Joe (Eddie “Rochester” Anderson)

A good and evil fantasy, described by some as a faux naïf parable, a variation on the Faustian myth that actually showcases the minions of the Devil and the Lord pitted against one another in this all-black musical, the first film directed by Vincente Minnelli after a string of successes on Broadway as director and production designer, working in collaboration with MGM musical producer Arthur Freed, yet it’s part of a historic group of six feature films produced by major Hollywood studios during the heyday of classic cinema between 1929 and 1954 that feature all-black casts, from HEARTS OF DIXIE (1929), Hallelujah (1929), THE GREEN PASTURES (1936), Stormy Weather (1943), and Carmen Jones (1954).  These musicals provided more opportunities for black performers than were allowed in other mainstream films, beginning when sound was introduced into motion pictures and ending the year the Supreme Court desegregated American schools, paving the way for a civil rights movement that would have a changing impact on media.  All were written, produced, and directed by whites, each one symptomatic of a segregated society, with all but one (Green Pastures) being a musical, reinforcing the stereotype that blacks are happy and fun-loving, with a propensity for natural rhythm, where jazz music, an original American artform emerging from black traditions, becomes associated with vice or fallen values.  Adapting Lynn Root’s short story Little Joe, this was initially a Broadway musical released in 1940 which ran for 156 performances before going on a national tour, music by Vernon Duke, lyrics by John Latouche, with the entire production staged by George Balanchine, where the undisputed star of the show is the indomitable Ethel Waters, who is a powerhouse as Petunia Jackson, the God-fearing and morally righteous wife of small-time gambler and carouser Little Joe Jackson (Eddie “Rochester” Anderson), a kind-hearted but morally ambivalent man who’s very soul she’s out to save.  After being shot in a dispute over a dice game (described as “calamity cubes”), Little Joe dies and is bound for Hell, much to the delight of Lucifer Jr. (Rex Ingram, who doubles as his gambling buddy Lucius), but is saved by the answered prayers from Petunia, pitting the forces of the Devil and those of the Lord against one another, where he is given a 6-month reprieve from death to prove himself worthy of Heaven or suffer eternal damnation afterwards, without any remembrance of this night.  Waters and Ingram are the only holdovers from the musical, with notable appearances by both Duke Ellington and Louis Armstrong, though Armstrong’s scenes have been cut beyond recognition, making only a brief appearance as one of the Devil’s emissaries as they enlist the aid of Georgia Brown (Lena Horne), where his only solo number was part of a Lena Horne bubble-bath sequence singing “Ain’t It the Truth” that was cut, Lena Horne Stereo - Ain't It the Truth - Cabin in the Sky 1943 YouTube (2:32), as a beautiful black woman singing in a bath was deemed lewd and lascivious, beyond the bounds of moral decency in 1943, yet it seems incomprehensible today how such a jazz pioneer and trumpet legend like Armstrong could be reduced to such an insignificant role.  Horne replaced Katherine Dunham from the musical, a rare combination of youth, talent, and beauty, playing the Devil’s temptress, an extension of the seductress role of Nina Mae McKinney in King Vidor’s Hallelujah (1929), where Dunham’s choreography is also missing.  While it’s easy to appreciate what Horne in her youthful prime brings to the film in an all-too brief appearance, one misses the theatricality that Dunham and her exquisite dancers might have brought, as her modernist aesthetic truly elevates Stormy Weather.  Ellington, on the other hand, resplendent in his white suit, is in full force leading his orchestra in the most charismatic musical number, as the allure of Things Ain’t What They Used to Be evolves into Goin’ Up, Cabin in the Sky - Duke Ellington in Jim Henry's Paradise (HD) YouTube (3:42), with a call-and-response from Lawrence Brown’s trombone laying down a musical sermon, where despite the air of urban stylization, a jazz joint is unfortunately viewed as a den of vice, much like rock ‘n’ roll would be decades later, but it’s a shame these two jazz legends didn’t see more screen time. 

The film was released during the war years when both Waters and Anderson were acclaimed radio stars, earning a modest profit due to distributions in the South, which typically refused to screen blacks in motion pictures in anything other than subservient roles to whites, but this film was widely shown on U.S. Army bases, where Lena Horne became a huge favorite among black troops.  The shortcoming of the film is the Hollywood depiction of black folklore, feeling overly simplified, creating a storybook feel, where it’s rare to see the minions of the Lord and the Devil onscreen, but they are the overriding thrust of the picture, with each side hoping to win the battle for the lost soul, yet here they feel more like dream caricatures than actual living characters, which is how they appear to the viewing audience, as they are something Joe dreams, with the Devil’s men in black, seen carrying pitchforks with little horns sticking out of their heads, while the Lord’s team is impeccably dressed in white, where the entire film is a fantasy morality tale pitting faith and devotion against the vices of sin.  The dreamy settings, however, add to a poverty aesthetic, where Joe’s dream of riches contrast with Petunia’s dream of Heaven, coming together at the end with a kind of surreal artificiality, creating an imaginary view of the afterlife.  Adding to the film’s luster, however, is the sophistication and refinement of Minnelli’s direction, which had resources that were simply not available in other all-black pictures, while his background was more attuned to contemporary New York than the Old South, so many of the plantation stereotypes prevalent in other pictures are absent, so there are no watermelon or pickininny references, and very few examples of that outdated Negro dialect.  The featured couple, however, live an unpretentious life of simplicity, far outside the corrupting reach of modernity, but there’s something off-putting about Joe’s passivity, so easily giving in to temptation, which is extremely rare for a lead protagonist, yet one amusing aspect is that even when Joe tries to do something good, like buying a washing machine for Petunia so she’ll spend less back-breaking work, it just sits on the back porch like an eyesore, completely unusable, as it runs on electricity, something they don’t have.  The impoverished couple in their modest home are a stark contrast to the artificiality of Club Paradise, with liquor and gambling and dancing, which also stands in stark contrast to the somber interior of the community church, where Kenneth Spencer, with his deep sonorous voice, plays the dual role of Reverend Green, the local pastor, but also appears as The General, the leader of God’s brigade against the Devil.  The other sharp contrast is the chic sophistication of the sleek, snappily dressed Georgia Brown, who is drawn to the fast life of easy money and having nice things, against the burdensome life of Petunia, the Mammyfied wife typically wearing a bandanna who spends too much time toiling in domestic work to be able to appreciate any of those things.  When the couple does have a moment together, it’s in their unadorned, ramshackle cabin, where the “spirit” can take them places they can otherwise not go, best expressed by this equally unadorned musical sequence, mostly taking place in the family kitchen, where tap dancer Bill Bailey (older brother to Pearl Bailey) epitomizes their dreams, Bill Bailey: "Taking A Chance On Love" (Cabin In The Sky YouTube (4:42).  Unlike the gospel music from King Vidor’s Hallelujah (1929), this is secular music, with the only religious song heard at the beginning in a small town church service, yet we quickly realize that the local pastor is also the lead servant of the Lord, who is greatly valued once Joe’s life is returned to Petunia, so she sings her appreciation, Cabin In The Sky (1943) -- (Movie Clip) A Thing Called Joe YouTube (3:36). 

It’s perhaps unsurprising that this film is the lowest-budgeted musical in the entire collection of Arthur Freed films, though he apparently fought for more funding but didn’t receive it, but they did invest in star performers, and a team of talented screenwriters, allowing Minnelli to produce a visually innovative work that showcases the talents of the performers.  They changed the score substantially from the Broadway musical version, as only three of the songs in the movie are from the original score, adding several new songs, including a Duke Ellington original, adding greater sophistication and jazz authenticity, while there are far fewer dance numbers, which have been scaled back significantly, particularly in Joe’s character.  There is one amusing change in the title song, as the original Broadway lyrics were, “We will be oh so gay/Eat fried chicken every day/As the angels go sailing by,” but the fried chicken reference was changed to “All we do is sing and pray.”  But the film’s biggest detraction is the story itself, a naïve and childlike portrait of damnation that unravels like a storybook tale, where the overly pious Petunia has a special relationship with God, having a direct pipeline, actually getting tangible results from her heartfelt prayers that she can see and appreciate, unlike the rest of us, suggesting special powers from intense religious devotion.  The film turns into a Bible story playing out before our eyes, a fictionally constructed view of Hotel Hades where Lucifer Jr’s Idea Men work in the cozy comfort of an air-conditioned office, dressed in white bathrobes and smoking cigars, where he speaks to his father, aka Pappy, by phone, conjuring up a plot to entice Joe into their underworld of doom, Cabin In The Sky (1943) -- (Movie Clip) One Of Your Favorite ... YouTube (2:36), first giving him a winning sweepstakes ticket, then sending in Georgia Brown so he has someone to spend all that money on, Cabin In The Sky (1943) -- (Movie Clip) Honey In the Honeycomb YouTube (3:23), becoming a regular patron in Club Paradise, which is viewed as a den of iniquity.  In order to combat this slide into sin, Petunia has to mix company with those who would condemn him to Hell, first paying off Joe’s gambling debt by outsmarting the gamblers, as she switches the loaded dice on them before chasing them away with a broom (“Sometimes when you fight the Devil, you got to jab him with his own pitchfork.”), Cabin In The Sky (1943) -- (Movie Clip) Double Or Nothing YouTube (3:08).  Then she shows up at Club Paradise in a flashy dress and a no-nonsense attitude, no longer pious and modest, but takes to the place as if she owns it, pushing her husband aside, insulting both Joe and Georgia as she joins Domino Johnson (John “Bubbles” Sublett, also playing Sportin’ Life in the stage version of Porgy and Bess), the man who shot Joe, who makes his own flashy entrance after getting out of jail, CABIN IN THE SKY ('43): "Shine" - YouTube (2:53), before doing an enticing dance together, Cabin in the Sky 1943 Ethel Waters Eng13 - YouTube (4:58), where she even sings a reprise of Georgia’s “Honey in the Honeycomb.”  This added swagger comes as a surprise, leaving behind her persona as Petunia Jackson and performing as Ethel Waters, an older, darker-skinned woman who breaks out of the Mammy role stereotype, where some credit must be given to Minnelli to allow this, but it also suggests what a woman would do to get her man back on the right path.  When things grow out of control, however, as a fight develops between Joe and Domino, Petunia resorts to the old reliable, turning once again to God, praying frantically, “Send down your wrath and destroy this wicked place!”  Her prayer is granted as a tornado makes its way to the nightclub, destroying everything in its path, with Minnelli recycling the same tornado sequence from THE WIZARD OF OZ (1939), as both Joe and Petunia are mortally wounded by Domino’s gunshots, Cabin in the Sky (1943) Tornado Scene - YouTube (2:19).  Both husband and wife now face judgment before a stairway leading to heaven, a predecessor to Powell and Pressburger’s picture of the afterlife in STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN, aka: A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH (1946).  Through Petunia’s strong faith, however, and the lengths she is willing to take to both pray for and look after Joe, both are saved, where their entrance to Heaven is shown with a surreal flourish.  But as they ascend into the pearly gates, Joe wakes up from what was merely a dream, having recovered from the earlier gunshot, with viewers only then realizing that the majority of the movie takes place in Joe’s imagination, as the audience is left to contemplate the moral of the story.  The film was added to the National Film Registry in 2020. 

Sammy Davis Jr.: I've Gotta Be Me

Sammy Davis Jr. at age 7 with Ethel Waters in Rufus Jones for President (1933)

 

The Will Mastin Trio

 

The Rat Pack

 

Sammy Davis Jr. with love interest Lola Falana

 

Sammy Davis Jr., 32, with his bride, Loray White, 23 in Las Vegas, Nevada, January 11, 1958

 

Sammy Davis Jr., 34, and Swedish movie actress May Britt, 24, pose in a London Hotel, on June 7, 1960

 

Sammy Davis Jr. and May Britt wedding November 13, 1960

 

Sammy Davis Jr. with Altovise Gore, married in 1970

 

Sammy Davis Jr., center, with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., left and Ralph Abernathy, right, at a civil rights rally in Los Angeles, May 26, 1963

 

Sinatra and Sammy

 

SAMMY DAVIS JR.:  I’VE GOTTA BE ME              A-                                           

USA  (100 mi)  2017  d:  Sam D. Pollard      

Whether I’m right or whether I’m wrong
Whether I find a place in this world or never belong
I gotta be me, I’ve gotta be me
What else can I be but what I am

—I’ve Gotta’ Be Me, music and lyrics by Walter Marks, from the Broadway musical Golden Rainbow, 1967, Sammy Davis Jr. - I Gotta Be Me - YouTube (3:11)

One of the more heartfelt films of the year, also chock full of outstanding footage, extremely well-edited and well-directed, showing surprising depth and insight into an American icon born in Harlem, who depite all his success and acclaim was never comfortable in his own skin, who always struggled with what it meant to be a black man in America, directed for the PBS American Masters series by Sam D. Pollard, an Academy Award nominated editor and producer working for Spike Lee, but also a Peabody Award-winning filmmaker who previously directed American Masters features on Marvin Gaye and playwright August Wilson.  More than a biograph of the legendary singer, dancer, actor, and comedian, starring in seven Broadway shows, 23 films, dozens of TV performances and record albums, nicknamed Mr. Show Business, though he stood at a mere 5’6” and weighed only 120 pounds, yet he spent 60-years in show business, where this film shines the spotlight on his personal life and career as he navigated his way through the Depression, WWII, Sinatra and the Vegas Rat Pack days, the changing times of the American Civil Rights movement in the 1960’s, up until his death in 1990.   Perhaps the most controversial moment was a cringe-worthy photo captured when Davis hugged Republican President Richard Nixon at the Republican Convention in 1972, which happened on live TV, campaigning for him during the election, with Nixon inviting him to sleep in the Lincoln bedroom at the White House, which led to a fall-out from the black community who saw the move as a sell-out, as if he went overboard seeking white approval.  Perhaps lost on Americans, and not mentioned in the film, is baseball icon Jackie Robinson supported Nixon as well when he ran against John Kennedy a decade earlier in 1960, as Kennedy prominently sat arch-segregationist Arkansas Governor Orval Faubus on stage with him at the Convention, with Robinson walking out in disgust, becoming a lifelong Republican because the Democratic Party’s segregationist Dixiecrat wing ran his family out of Georgia.  Robinson, perhaps unsurprisingly, was also called an “Uncle Tom.”  Having been an active supporter of Martin Luther King, attending the infamous march on Washington, it was a surprising turning point in Davis’s career and something that affected him deeply, showing how out of touch he was with black activist movements, with many black audiences shunning him afterwards.  Davis was forced to apologize afterwards, giving a highly personalized speech (shown in the film), where the singing of the entitled song helped regain his reputation.  But for Davis, this was incomprehensible, as his life was synonymous with black entertainers in show business, coming from parents who were themselves vaudeville dancers, having gotten his start in the movies at the age of 7, already an established tap star, singing and dancing with Ethel Waters in RUFUS JONES FOR PRESIDENT (1933).  Even earlier, his extraordinary talent was evident at the age of three when he made his first appearance onstage as a pint-sized performer in a top hat who sang and tap danced, learning from the likes of Bill “Bojangles” Robinson, a tap master who began in minstrel shows but developed sophisticated routines in Hollywood, becoming one of the first black performers to perform without blackface, famous for dancing up and down a staircase with complex tap rhythms on each step, where this early artform, associated with Davis throughout his career, mirrors jazz when it comes to freedom of expression and spontaneous improvisation in rhythm. 

Davis learned to dance from his father and designated uncle, Will Mastin, joining the act as a child to become the Will Mastin Trio, a name that continued even as Davis was jettisoned into the lead role, where one of the more thrilling scenes pits Davis against the other two dance stand-outs in a tap-off.  Touring the country as a child star, Davis never spent a single day in school, something he regretted later in life, as he never learned proper writing skills.  Despite his ambitious talent, reaching the pinnacle of success in his career, he never thought it was enough, plagued by insecurity and self-doubts, with questions about his identity, never feeling comfortable being alone, something he avoided throughout his life, constantly needing reassurance from others that he was a success, suggesting he paid a heavy price for breaking down the racist walls of the industry.  With contributions from Billy Crystal, Whoopi Goldberg, Jerry Lewis, Quincy Jones, Norman Lear, and Kim Novak, among others that worked with him, though Paula Wayne, who shared the lead with Davis in the Broadway production of Golden Boy in the mid 60’s, literally steals the show as one of his most ardent supporters, as they all share anecdotes and personal experiences, where it was impossible not to be impressed by his amazing talent, much of which is pulled out of the vault for viewers to enjoy.  Among the worst times of his life was when he joined one of the first integrated army units during WW II, where he was subjected to constant racial abuse from white soldiers, many of them from the South, including beatings and being painted white, where he got into numerous fights, knocking one man down and breaking his nose, but the man’s response afterwards, “Well, you won the fight, but you’re still a nigger,” something they never let him forget.  Davis nearly died from an automobile accident in the early 50’s driving back to LA from Vegas on Route 66, where he lost an eye, requiring extensive rehab afterwards to regain his balance and equilibrium, especially important for a dancer with his skills.  Jerry Lewis hired a plane and flew to his bedside, remaining their throughout his recovery, and Sinatra paid all the medical bills, with Davis wearing a patch for the first few months, eventually fitted for a glass eye, which he wore for the rest of his life.  His return to the stage two months afterwards was one of the most anticipated events of the year, but he was spectacular, as dazzling as ever.  When he got booked into Las Vegas nightclubs during the early 50’s, he had to ride in the designated “colored car” on trains, and was not able to go in the front door of certain clubs, as there were no dressing rooms for black performers, so they had to wait outside between acts.  He wasn’t allowed to stay inside the casinos or hotels where he worked, or gamble, or be served a drink or meal, and had to find housing in black sections outside of town.  Even more galling, when someone complained they saw him using the pool, the water was completely drained before white patrons would use the pool again, which made his acceptance into Frank Sinatra’s Rat Pack all the more significant, seemingly integrated, appearing on stage and making movies together, usually at the Copa Room at the Sands, selling out nearly all their appearances, though he was the butt of many of the jokes by Sinatra and Dean Martin, with Martin lifting him in his arms, proclaiming “I’d like to thank the N.A.A.C.P. for this wonderful trophy,” where not only his diminutive size but his race was pilloried, subjecting him to a kind of personal humiliation, giving the appearance of acceptance, but many had their doubts.  His career soared during that period, however, with Sinatra opening plenty of doors for him, helping to turn his talent into superstardom.    

After the car accident, Davis spoke to legendary vaudeville performer Eddie Cantor in the hospital about converting to Judaism, explaining the similarities between blacks and Jews, where he was particularly struck by the endurance of the Jewish people, as they had been persecuted and oppressed for three thousand years, making the choice to convert in 1954, though after a period of study, he quietly underwent a formal conversion under the tutelage of Rabbi Harry Sherer in Las Vegas in 1961, arguably the most famous convert to Judaism of his era and a generous donor to Jewish causes, yet his affiliation caused him great personal anguish, as he was never fully accepted by Jews, while also ostracized by many blacks.  Davis is remembered for being among the first black comedians to do impressions of white stars, something he was warned against by family and friends, as that was considered taboo at the time, yet his hilarious impersonations of Humphrey Bogart, Jimmy Stewart, Edward G. Robinson, and James Cagney won him accolades, with Bogart pulling him into his dressing room to offer personal tips, learning the source of many of his infamous mannerisms and gestures.  One of the real eye-openers of the film was his complex relationships with white women, including a love affair with Kim Novak, the beautiful star of Hitchcock’s Vertigo (1958).  But the year before, she was under contract with Columbia Pictures, where the dictatorial Harry Cohn, president of the studio, ordered Davis to stop seeing Novak, as the racial dynamic would affect his business, actually having him kidnapped for a few hours, threatening him with the loss of his other eye if he didn’t marry a black woman within two days.  Like Buster Keaton in SEVEN CHANCES (1925), Davis desperately married black dancer Loray White in 1958, offering her $10,000 for a fake marriage, but Davis became so inebriated at the wedding that he had to be carried off to bed and the marriage was never consummated.  Two years later, however, he married white Swedish actress May Britt, who converted to Judaism before the marriage, where there were bomb threats where he performed and picketing by the American Nazi party, with both receiving plenty of hate mail years later when he starred in the Broadway production of Golden Boy, (receiving a Tony nomination for Best Actor), where in 1964 the onstage kiss between Davis and co-star Paula Wayne, at the height of the Civil Rights era, was the first between a white woman and a black man on the Broadway stage.  At the time of his appearance, interracial marriages were forbidden by law in 31 states, eventually ruled unconstitutional by the Supreme Court in 1967.  The couple divorced in 1968 when Davis admitted having an affair with fellow cast member Lola Falana, subsequently marrying Altovise Gore, one of the dancers in Golden Boy, in 1970, remaining together until his death from throat cancer in 1990.  Davis was particularly offended when he was not invited to JFK’s 1961 Presidential nomination, shunned by the President though all the other Rat Pack members attended, with Sinatra in particular heavily involved with Kennedy’s election campaign, but he never spoke up for him.  While his support of Nixon might have had something to do with it, it was his interracial marriage that was used as a reason why many Southerners would be offended.  Davis became active in the Civil Rights movement during the run of Golden Boy, which was seen by Martin Luther King, who particularly liked the song “No More,” No More - YouTube (6:32), with its poignant lyrics, “I ain’t bowin’ down, no more.”  Though he had an aversion to going to the South, believing his life would be in danger, he was talked into attending the Selma march in Alabama when Harry Belafonte bought out the house, allowing him to participate during the production.  In a television tribute celebrating his 60 years in show business, with Sammy performing a tap number, Michael Jackson performed, showing a visibly moved Sammy Davis Jr. when he notes, “Thanks to you, there’s a door we all walk through.”  Despite paying the ultimate price, one of the saddest and most profound aspects of the film is understanding that the racial history in America that Davis struggled so hard to overcome never goes away, that these hard-earned lessons are somehow never really learned.