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. 

Stormy Weather

 

Director Andrew L. Stone

Lena Horne

Horne with Bill Robinson and Cab Calloway

Katherine Dunham

STORMY WEATHER           A                                                                                                      USA  (78 mi)  1943  d: Andrew L. Stone

Don’t know why                                                                                                                          There’s no sun up in the sky                                                                                                           Stormy Weather                                                                                                                                Since my man and I ain’t together                                                                                                 Keeps raining all the time...                                                                                                  —Stormy Weather, by Harold Arlen and Ted Koehler, 1933

It is only in his music, which Americans are able to admire because a protective sentimentality limits their understanding of it, that the Negro in America has been able to tell his story.  It is a story which otherwise has yet to be told and which no American is prepared to hear.              —James Baldwin extract from Notes of a Native Son, 1955

Following Vincente Minnelli’s earlier all-black MGM musical release in the same year, CABIN IN THE SKY (1943), these are probably the two most successful and best-remembered examples of race films in America, starring Bill “Bojangles” Robinson in his first and only starring role of his career at age 65, who more than holds his own against a young 26-year old Lena Horne, with her polished image of beauty, sophistication, and refinement, yet any hint of desire for her has been stripped of all sexuality, remaining PG safe and non-threatening, bringing elegance and stature to the picture. Aesthetically complex and historically significant, conveying a repertoire of black performance that simply couldn’t be framed in words, this backstage musical from Hollywood’s Golden Age is a rarity, featuring some of the best black entertainers in the business, with highlights including Ada Brown with Fats Waller on the piano singing “That Ain’t Right,” Ada Brown and Fats Waller - That Ain't Right from Stormy Weather (Upscaled to 4k) YouTube (3:01), Cab Calloway in a zoot suit singing and leading the band in a number entitled “Geechy Joe,” Stormy Weather (1943) YouTube (3:24), the matchless elegance of the Nicholas Brothers jumping on tabletops before doing gravity defying and anatomically challenging splits down the stairs, described by Fred Astaire as “the greatest movie musical number [I] had ever seen,” Cab Calloway & Nicholas Brothers - Jumpin' Jive YouTube (4:47), and Lena Horne singing the jazzy “Diga Diga Doo,” Lena Horne - Diga Diga Doo (1943) YouTube (2:14), featuring unbelievably wild chorus-line costumes.  She sings a more restrained duet with Bill, “I Can’t Give You Anything But Love, Baby,” Lena Horne - I Can't Give You Anything But Love (1943) YouTube (2:55), a song initially introduced by Adelaide Hall in 1928, which was also featured in Cassavetes’ films Shadows (1959) and Minnie and Moskowitz (1971), before Horne’s distinctive rendition of “Stormy Weather” is performed in a lengthy sequence, Lena Horne - Stormy Weather (1943) YouTube (4:11), as Katherine Dunham and her dancers improvise a modern ballet under the storm clouds.  Some of the dialogue is a bit hokey, as are the scenes with Uncle Bill telling stories to children around his knees, reminiscent of Uncle Remus in Disney’s long-censored SONG OF THE SOUTH (1946), with overt references to Southern plantations and the legacy of slavery, where the pigeon-holing or typecasting of blacks into musical and dance roles can be traced back to minstrel and Antebellum-era stereotypes, including “pickaninny,” Little Black Sambo imagery from a dance sequence, The Cakewalk 1943 YouTube (2:48), showcasing an array of crude blackface masks, leading into the pre-Civil War minstrel song “Camptown Races,” with Antebellum plantation motifs in the décor, including costume allusions to Southern Belles.  A little known aspect of the Cakewalk is that it originated on plantations to mock whites, where the winner would receive a cake, becoming a staple in minstrel shows and black communities since slavery days.  The American black experience has been shoved to the side or used as the butt of jokes since BIRTH OF A NATION (1915), which was not only a massive blockbuster but it was the benchmark for how blackness would be portrayed in mainstream films.  Despite an all-black cast, there is a blackfaced Stepin Fetchit-style comedy act by Flournoy Miller and Johnny Lee that reeks of racist derision, rarely seen outside of black variety shows, the only non-musical number in the film, where it’s hard to miss, taking a nostalgic backward glance at the vanishing era of black performance, recreating the vaudeville and minstrel-inspired performances of the black stage, showing the evolution from the 1910’s to the early 1940’s.  Mostly these are musical sketches in a manner typical of 1930’s musicals, with stereotype scenes of tap dancing, shuffling, and blackface in settings like a Mississippi riverboat, a Beale Street blues and jazz joint, and a variety theater, yet it is the always optimistic, unfailing enthusiasm of Bill Robinson and Dooley Wilson, the piano player from CASABLANCA (1942), that keeps the spirit of the film uplifting.  With non-stop musical numbers, this film provides the kind of energy and pizzazz that Broadway shows hope to match.  Made under the $5,000 target, the maximum allowed during the war years, the otherwise unnoteworthy director and entire crew were white, where run-ins with the director (Horne described his style on the set as cold) may have cost Horne future roles, yet they translated the Cotton Club nightclub revue to the screen more successfully than any other cinematic attempt.  Andrew Stone’s earliest directing efforts were extravagant musical productions, turning down a contract with MGM and declaring himself independent from the Hollywood system, later going on to make the forgettable SONG OF NORWAY (1970).

Starting her career as a singer and dancer in nightclubs during the 30’s, Lena Horne moved into films in the late 30’s with her first appearance in The Duke Is Tops (1938), but it was Walter White, director of the NAACP, who helped Lena Horne get a Hollywood contract with MGM in 1942, quickly becoming one of the top black performers in America, on loan from MGM for this picture with 20th Century Fox, which was a hit at the box office, despite the fact less than half of Fox’s theaters booked the movie, generating a press release that reads “Celebrating the magnificent contribution of the colored race to the world of entertainment during the past twenty-five years.”  While the story is purely secondary, organized around a series of disconnected musical numbers, the character of tap performer Bill Robinson is loosely based on Robinson’s own life, told in flashbacks with Bill reminiscing about his career and storied romance with singer Selina Rogers (Lena Horne), running into obstacles along the way, but it’s the incredible musical numbers that stand the test of time, featuring artists playing themselves who were diminished or excluded altogether from Hollywood pictures.  What’s truly remarkable is the seemingly unlimited range of artistic talent on display, liberated from the straightjacket of playing stereotypes in smaller roles that Hollywood films confined them to, where this is one of the few mainstream films at the time where blacks were portrayed as real people.  Unfortunately, this was the final film of Fats Waller, who died from pneumonia just 5 months after the opening, and also the final film of Bill Robinson, who tragically died penniless despite being the highest paid black entertainer during the first half of the 20th century.  The film blindly ignores the reality of segregation in America during the 1940’s, though the same could be said for all musicals of the era, where white vaudeville performers like Fred Astaire could expand on their vaudeville acts and play more noteworthy characters in films, while black performers like Bill Robinson and the Nicholas Brothers were not afforded the same opportunities, as films would showcase their talent, but only in small increments, having little overall impact on the storyline.  In that vein, black musical director and composer William Grant Still quit the film over the studio’s perpetuation of exploitive aspects of the all-black revue, having been led to believe this would be an opportunity to showcase black cultural achievement, but his original compositions were increasingly discarded for more stereotypical musical numbers reflective of the Jim Crow era, while Clarence Robinson, the first black choreographer employed by the Cotton Club, famous for their plantation motifs, designed several of the film’s dance sequences.  While an argument could also be made that Lena Horne might have been a major screen star like Judy Garland, but she was denied similar opportunities.  Even though she had just signed a studio contract, this was the pinnacle of her Hollywood movie career, as she was sparsely used afterwards outside of small support roles and cameos in musicals, with studios refusing to allow her to play opposite a white leading man, relegated to specialty numbers in more opulent musicals built around somebody else, typically cutting her songs out of the picture for screenings in the South (CABIN IN THE SKY deleted a scene at the initial release as it was sung while taking a bubble bath), so she was left in limbo, severely underutilized, as the studios simply didn’t know what to do with her, viewed as a “liability,” or a poor investment, yet like Garland, the studios mismanaged their careers with disastrous results, both left embittered by the experience.  Horne was not only encouraged to “pass” as Spanish by nightclub owners but also mistaken for a “Latin-American” by film audiences.  She appeared in only one non-musical picture throughout her entire career, coming at the age of 51, playing a Hispanic brothel madam in DEATH OF A GUNFIGHTER (1969).  However simplistic the film’s storyline may seem, its very existence, mirroring the times in which it was made, brings to light some complex social issues that remain relevant today, with the film added to the Library of Congress Film Registry in 2001, Complete National Film Registry Listing. 

Looking terrific in a 4k restoration, comprised almost entirely of set pieces, Bill Robinson and Army buddy Gabe Tucker (Dooley Wilson) are returning soldiers from France after WWI, celebrating in a New York City nightclub.  Paris was an ambassador of jazz in Europe, offering a freer, more accepting environment to black soldiers, where we hear the first song from Lena Horne, accompanied on piano by her manager Chick Bailey (Emmett “Babe” Wallace), always seen as a foil standing between Bill and Lena, Stormy Weather (1943) -- (Movie Clip) No Two Ways About Love YouTube (3:51).  Heading to Memphis afterwards on a riverboat, Bill, now dressed in rags, seen laying on a bale of cotton, gets the dancing itch when he hears music from a group calling themselves “minstrel boys,” complete with crude racial caricature, and ends up doing a tap “sand dance,” Stormy Weather (1943) -- (Movie Clip) Linda Brown - TCM  YouTube (3:20).  The presence of Fats Waller is a time capsule infusing life into an American jazz standard, capturing the essence of Beale Street in his signature song, Ain't Misbehavin' (Stormy Weather, 1943) [Digitally Enhanced] YouTube (2:46).  What connects this film to audiences is the authenticity of the music and dance, which even caught the attention of Malcolm X, “I loved the tough guys, the action, Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca, and I loved all that dancing and carrying on in such films as Stormy Weather and Cabin in the Sky.”  The song “Stormy Weather” was initially written for a musical revue at the Cotton Club in 1933, starring Ethel Waters accompanied by Duke Ellington, quickly emerging as a nightclub standard, yet in the hands of different singers like Waters or Lena Horne, the song takes on an entirely new meaning, as it does here, an example of how modernism can transport movie audiences to new heights, as the song is accompanied by a fantasy ballet sequence from the Katherine Dunham dance troupe.  The abstract ballet has a dreamlike quality following Horne’s vocal, which is sung in front of a window showing a rainy street scene outside, with the camera following her gaze out the window, segueing into a symphonic jazz orchestration, as it predates contemporary ballet dance movement and was an early test of mixing various genres of dance, yet anticipates the centerpiece ballet sequence in Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger’s THE RED SHOES (1948), The Red Shoes (1948) - Ballet Sequence - YouTube (15:25), along with the unprecedented 17-minute dream sequence ballet from Vincente Minnelli’s AN AMERICAN IN PARIS (1951), "An American In Paris" Ballet with George Gershwin's ... - Vimeo (23:05).  In the 1930’s, Dunham traveled to the Caribbean to do anthropological studies on various cultures for two years, including Jamaica, Trinidad, Martinique, and most importantly Haiti, which would become one of her main sources of inspiration, using what she learned to revolutionize white European dance movements, instead incorporating African and Caribbean elements of traditional folk and ethnic dances, as well as rituals, into modern dance and beyond, believing it was important to know the “life surrounding the dances.”  The breathtaking originality that Dunham provides, an articulation of innovative black modernism, literally transcends the suffocating minstrel dance aesthetics that confines the rest of the picture, where her stated goal was to “take our dance out of the burlesque,” which is precisely what the film does, showcasing a more cultured sophistication as it reaches the finale, yet she suffered the same Jim Crow indignities of not having a place to sleep or a restaurant to visit while on tour.  In a departure from the norm, exhibiting astonishing range, the film was considered revolutionary for its time, interspersing traditional tap dance between Dunham’s experimental reverie and the high-flying acrobatics of the Nicholas Brothers, where the final sequence becomes a 17-minute-long revue featuring different performances without any driving narrative or plot, yet the jaw-dropping artistry onscreen is unparalleled, Stormy Weather (1943) YouTube (7:58).

[FULL MOVIE] Stormy Weather (1943) | Classic Musical in 4K  digitally restored to 4k, YouTube (1:17:40)