Hans Christian Andersen
(1952), Technicolor, 112 minutes
With: Danny Kaye (Hans Christian Andersen), Farley Granger (Niels), Zizi Jeanmaire (Doro) (as Jeanmaire"), Joseph Walsh (Peter) (as "Joey Walsh"), Philip Tonge (Otto), Erik Bruhn (The Hussar in "Ice Skating Ballet"), Roland Petit (The Prince in 'The Little Mermaid' Ballet), John Brown (Schoolmaster), John Qualen (Burgomaster), Jeanne Lafayette (Celine), Robert Malcolm (Stage Doorman), George Chandler (Gerta's Father, Farmer), Fred Kelsey (First Gendarme), Gil Perkins (Second Gendarme), Peter J. Votrian (Lars (as Peter Votrian)
***
Synopsis (By Thomas J. Harris): In the little town of Odense, Denmark, in 1830, Hans Christian Andersen (Danny Kaye) is the village cobbler and a spinner of tall tales. His stories are so popular with the local children that they play hookey from school to hear them. Every time Hans feels like telling one, he signals his desire by flying his kite.
Hans's young apprentice, Peter (Joey Walsh), is constantly warning him of the trouble he will eventually incur from the city council for keeping the children from their studies. One day the schoolmaster of the village (John Brown) decides he has had enough, and delivers an ultimatum to the council: either Hans Christian Andersen or he must go. The townspeople, who also feel that Hans is filling their youngsters' heads with nonsensical "lessons" ("I asked my little girl what time it was. She told me the big hand and the little hand weren't speaking, and that they wouldn't make up until they met at 12 o'clock, and no one would be able to tell the time until then!" exclaims one man), back up the schoolmaster's statements, and so the Burgomaster (John Qualen) reluctantly agrees to speak to Hans that evening.
To spare Hans the ignominy of being banished from the town, Peter talks him into leaving voluntarily. He then sets out in pursuit of Hans, catching up with him the next day. Together they make their way to the magic city of Copenhagen. Immediately upon arrival; Hans decides to set up his co bbler's shop in the heart of the Great Square. He climbs up on the base of a huge equestrian statue to attract trade-and two policeemen promptly arrest him for "disrespect to the King's statue." They also try to grab Peter but he escapes down the street.
Looking for a safe hiding place, Peter darts into a doorway at the end of an alley. It turns out to be the stage entrance to the Royal Theater. As he crouches in a dark corner, he overhears two men arguing. One man, Otto (Philip Tongue), is asking the other, the Ballet Director, Niels (Farley Granger), where, on a holiday, he will be able to find a cobbler. Peter emerges from the shadows and tells Otto that he knows where a cobbler sits this very minute, but in order to secure his services he will have to use a little influence with the police.
Hans is soon released from jail and placed in the custody of the Royal Danish Ballet. He is then commissioned to make a special pair of slippers for the Ballerina, Doro (Jeanmaire). All she wants is the impossible-shoes that will walk on air. But Hans, falling in love with her at first sight, promises that she shall have them.
Hans is scornful of the harsh treatment which Doro receives from Niels. Unbeknownst to him, however, the two of them are actually happily married - their squabbles are purely of a professional nature, with one always dreaming up some way of tormenting the other.
The following noon, between rehearsals, Doro confesses to Niels that there was nothing wrong with her shoes. It was just that she knew the unreasonable demand for a new pair on a holiday would get his goat. Niels immediately spits back. This starts a fight, which culminates with the Ballerina hauling off and slap ping her husband and he promptly slapping her back-just as Hans is arriving with the new pair of shoes. He is shocked when the stage manager, who prevents him from barging in on the rehearsal, informs him that the two are in fact husband and wife.
That night Hans writes a letter to Doro. It is a love letter, but he disguises it in the form of a fairy tale. It concerns a mermaid who gradually comes to realize that she has sought love from the wrong man. Peter tries to convince Hans that he does not know the truth about them (he has been eavesdropping on their intimate conversation over lunch), but Hans ignores him: "You're a child, you don't understand."
In the middle of the night Peter gets up to read the letter. Hans stirs in his sleep and Peter jumps, guiltily hiding the letter behind his back. A sudden breeze blows the paper out of his hand. It sails down the alley and finally disappears through an open window of the theater. He spies it on a ledge but in trying to retrieve it he wakens the doorman, who takes the letter to the Ballerina. Under questioning by Niels, Peter admits that Hans wrote it. The Ballerina glances at it and concludes that the cobbler has written her a ballet.
Back in their room Peter tells Hans that the Ballerina has his letter. He sees the fact that "the wind took it to her" as "an omen," and wants to rush to her and tell her of his great love for her. Peter tries to spare him the humiliation of learning the truth, but Hans refuses to listen. He rushes to the theater only to find that the ballet has left town on its annual tour.
Hans remains behind in Copenhagen and sets up shop near the river. He is soon up to his old tricks of telling stories to children in the park. One day he meets a little boy whose bald head is a target for the other children's teasing. He makes up the story of "The Ugly Duckling" who discovered that he was actually a swan, which cheers up the youngster. The boy's father, it turns out, is a newspaper publisher, and offers to repay Hans for his good deed by printing the story in the Copenhagen Weekly Gazette. He offers to do the same for any future tales Hans might come up with. Hans has a new career as a writer.
Meanwhile, the ballet returns from its tour. On opening night the Ballerina plans to dance Hans' ballet, "The Little Mermaid." Peter tries to dissuade Hans from attending, insisting that he is "making up a story about Doro and Niels in his head just like he does about everything else. Only this time it's about them, not clocks and flowers and stars. She'll laugh at you, Hans." Hans accuses Peter of lying to him and suggests that perhaps they should part company altogether. Hans departs for the theater alone.
When Hans arrives at the theater with a present for the Ballerina, a new pair of slippers, Niels refuses to let him see her. When Hans persists, Niels locks him in the prop broom closet, and Hans misses the thrill of seeing his story brought to life by the dance. But he can hear the orchestra. As the music swells, Hans envisions the ballet as a declaration of his love which, in his mind, the Ballerina returns. He falls blissfully asleep.
The next morning, in her apartment, the Ballerina wonders why Hans hadn't attended the opening. Niels confesses he locked the cobbler up. Very upset, Doro sends her maid to fetch Hans. She tries to apologize for her husband's action, but Hans tells her there's no need. When she tells him she felt something "sad and tender" when dancing the ballet that she cannot quite put her finger on, Hans offers an explanation: "I think it was your answer. I let my heart speak to you with the story and last night you answered me with yours."
It suddenly dawns on the Ballerina that Hans is in love with her. She asked him how he happened to write the story. "How else could a cobbler speak to you?" he replies. "How else could I tell you how unhappy I knew you were with your husband?" Doro is afraid to tell Hans the truth for fear of hurting him. Just then Niels bursts into the room with an extravagant piece of jewelry for his wife. They kiss passionately. As if that weren't em barrassing enough for Hans, Niels reveals that Doro was laughing about his locking Hans in the closet "even under the covers." Before Hans leaves, Niels asks him if he has any other stories which the ballet company can use. "No, I'm afraid that one was just a fluke. I won't be writing any more stories," he replies sadly. Then, holding out the new shoes which he has brought the Ballerina, he declares, "I guess it's all right to deliver these now. Some shoes from the cobbler."
Hans is next seen returning to Odense. On the way he catches up with Peter, and tells him that he is through with storytelling. But Peter is certain that he will continue to tell them. "Why do you keep saying that?" Hans asks. "Why? Because you're Hans Christian Andersen, that's why." And Peter is right, for Hans becomes a celebrity to the people of Odense. Now everyone turns out to hear his stories-even the schoolmaster.
***
Even in the decidedly eclectic world of the musical–fantasy, HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN is an odd duck (or in keeping with the spirit of the piece, an “ugly duckling.”) It is most certainly a lavish affair, bright and bouncy and colorful, and boasts extraordinary performances from the leads, Danny Kaye and Jeanmaire. The musical numbers are high-polish and well-mounted, and the songs invariably memorable. The studio-bound set design, while insular, is not claustrophobic, and there are moments, especially during the stage-set musical numbers, where the film’s canvas opens up expansively, even breathtakingly.
So why was HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN such a failure in its original theatrical run, and why is it still such a queer little anomaly even today? Perhaps the answer lies in its desperate and energetic attempt to be all things to all people. Although it is a bonafide Hollywood musical in the tradition of the MGM musicals, it lacks the panache or scope of a MEET ME IN ST. LOUIS or EASTER PARADE. As a biography of the title character, it falls woefully short, and in many cases makes things up out of whole cloth. Finally, as a children’s fantasy tale, it seems obtuse almost to the point of aggression towards the little ones it supposedly is catering to. In short, it is a film which caters to neither adult nor child, neither fantastist or realist. This is likely why HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN never found its rightful audience in theatrical runs, or in its sparse TV afterlife.
Yet, there are many things to celebrate in this weird little film which tries so hard to “be big.” Surely, Danny Kaye is a most engaging and affecting performer in anything he does, and all the subsequent revelations about his sad, surly and sordid personal life do not reduce the quality of his timeless portrayals one whit. As well, screen newcomer Jeanmaire is bright and wistful as Hans’ impossible love interest, and is endlessly enchanting to gaze upon.
The production design by Richard Day and Howard Bristol is also bright and wistful in its own way, with a marvelous color palette and some dearly wonderful sets, our favorites being the Copenhagen market square, and of course, that for the underwater ballet sequence.
The songs, by the terrific Frank Loesser, are unusually memorable for this type of production, with “Wonderful Copenhagen,” “Hans Christian Andersen” and “The Ugly Duckling” taking their rightful place as genre classics. Indeed, this author can rightly claim that his very first soundtrack album was the score to this film, which he played countless times and committed to memory.
Producer Samuel Goldwyn had long wanted to make a children’s musical, and HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN can indeed be seen as the first postwar children’s fantasy, starting a trend which snowballed throughout the subsequent two decades. Goldwyn, of course, had been amazingly successful with a series of features directed by William Wyler, with 1946’s THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES certainly the crown jewel of the partnership. As well, Goldwyn had made several successful fantasies with Danny Kaye previously, such as THE SECRET LIFE OF WALTER MITTY (1947).
Goldwyn purportedly went through 38 scripts to arrive at the blustering, haphazard tripe which forces the fragile narrative along. Final screenwriter Moss Hart is undoubtedly an esteemed scribe, but no-one thought he could, or should, do justice to writing a children’s fable. Perhaps the most grievous sin committed by this sincere if ill-informed screenplay is the awesome liberties taken with biographical information in order to craft an affable, kid-friendly storyteller of legend. This is perhaps partially due to the fact that the biographical aspect of HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN was not taken from actual biographies of the man in question, but from a short story called "Hnas Christian Andersen," written by children’s writer Myles Connelly, commissioned for Goldwyn and kept suppressed subsequently. So this “fairy tale about that great spinner of fairy tales” was indeed based not on reality, but on a fairy tale!
According to fairy tale scholar Jack Zipes, who recently complete a fascinating biography of Andersen (Hans Christian Andersen - The Misunderstood Storyteller, 2005, Routledge Press), the fabled storyteller was never a cobbler (!), was not so shy with women as history makes him out to be, and was not even that fond of children! For Andersen, tales for the young was his way of getting published and making a name for himself, an opportunity he took to with relish. Indeed, the entire new genres of moral fables, folk tales and fairy tales were intended by and large as entertainment for the middle-class masses of Europe, and were not specifically intended for children. As Zipes states about the film,
"For many people, young and old, who have grown up viewing the classic RKO film Hans Christian Andersen, produced in 1954 and starring the inimitable Danny Kaye, it is difficult to know who Hans Christian Anderson actually is and what really is significant about his tales. Like Andersen's own autobiography, The Fairy Tale of My Life, which he wrote to conceal many uncomfortable facets of his life, there is very little truth in this charming film, which distorts not only his life but also the meaning of many of the tales. Yet the powerful impact of Hans Christian Andersen is such that people continue to believe Andersen was a happy-go-lucky cobbler, unlucky in love, who sought to entertain children with his delightful storytelling, The problem with this rosy image, of a highly neurotic man, who was afraid to love and had only occasional contact with children, is that it belies the profound and disturbing contribution that Andersen made to the fairy-tale tradition throughout the world."
(from Hans Christian Andersen - The Misunderstood Storyteller, Jack Zipes, 2005, Routledge Press)
Additionally, Goldwyn, perhaps unwisely, insisted on adding several ballet sequences to the already-belabored story. While the sequences are not painful to watch, and “the Little Mermaid” is actually the film’s inarguable highpoint, in general they slow the film down considerably and one cannot imagine any self-respecting tot giving a hoot about such nonsense. It is likely that Goldwyn was impressed by the financial and artistic success of Powell-Pressburger’s glorious 1948 fantasy THE RED SHOES, and tried to shoehorn this awkward element into a film which would have played much better as a straightforward fantasy or biography.
Also, according to author Thomas J. Harris, director Charles Vidor may have been a sabotaging influence to the film’s eventual success. He continually battled with star Kaye, and Kaye ended up “directing” many scenes. Also, young star Joey Walsh recalled Vidor telling him and other members of the cast to play everything in a very deadpan, subdued manner, a curious direction for a film supposed to be buoyant and joyful! Vidor is even reported to have demanded, “I want NO energy!”
Warts and all, we have a soft spot in our heart for this odd little musical-fantasy, and consider it an esteemed member of the Kiddie Matinee canon. Others, however, have not been so kind. Witness this verdict from Thomas J. Harris, from his book Children’s Live-Action Musical Films”, McFarland, 1989:
“What indeed is the point of calling a picture HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN – a title which would lead any reasonable person to expect a biography – and then instead delivering a product which is neither a credible reflection of the subject’s life nor even a terribly interesting take-off on that story?”
Even worse, film critic Pauline Kael offered several mean-spirited comments on the film, calling it “an old man’s conceit” and “a pseudo-whimsical monstrosity.” While we may agree in principle with these harsh criticisms, still there is something about HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN which haunts the viewer, and continues to charm devoted audiences to this day. Perhaps, against all odds, this most “ugly duckling” of the musical-fantasy genre does, after all, capture the spirit, if not the letter, of the beloved tale-weaver it homages, and creates for its subject a “tall tale” that is bigger than life, indeed, a bonafide “fairy tale about that great spinner of fairy tales!”
Kevin Butler adds this fascinating information about HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN:
When the Danish government found out that Danny Kaye was going to portray Hans Christian Andersen in the new Goldwyn movie, they were outraged that an American clown was going to play their hero, fearing that they would make a mockery of Andersen's life story and works, and they protested allowing the picture to be produced. To try and appease the Danish diplomats, producer Goldwyn invited them to watch some scenes of the movie being shot at his studios in California. He even added a disclaimer at the opening of the movie: "Once upon a time, there lived in Odense, Denmark a storyteller named Hans Christian Andersen. This is not the true story of his life, but a fairy tale of this spinner of fairy tales." Despite this attempt at appeasement, the Danish government was not impressed with Goldwyn's efforts or with the movie. This information is from Robert Dorian, who hosted the film on American Movies Classics back in the 1990's.
Yet Goldwyn still tried to make HCA a hit. When the film was ready for it's major premire in New York City in 1952, Goldwyn hired Todd Russell ("Big Todd"), "Mr. Deetle Dootle" (aka John Vee), puppeteers Paul Ashley, Frank Milano, and the voice of "Rootie Kazootie," Naomi Lewis, to perform at the opening. After the puppets and Russell and Vee performed, however, the kids in the audience wanted to see "Rootie Kazootie," not Hans Christian Andersen! Goldwyn got angry, and was seen running up and down the aisles of the theater, telling the kids, "Watch the movie, forget about that damned Rootie Kazootie! Watch Danny Kaye! Believe me, you'll like the movie!" But no matter how hard he tried, Goldwyn was never able to make HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN a hit. This information came from my interview with the producer and co-creator of "Rootie Kazootie," the late Steve Carlin.
According to a TV tribute to Danny Kaye which aired on American Movie Classics in 1990's, Goldwyn had been working on HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN as far back as the 1930's. Goldwyn had originally wanted "The Little Tramp," Charlie Chaplin to play the title character, but Chaplin declined, and the project lay dormant until the 1950's. Goldwyn even tried to get Gary Cooper to play the part, but he also declined, citing that he was not a song-and-dance man or a comedy performer of clown caliber. So, Goldwyn eventually approached Danny Kaye. Kaye and Goldwyn had had a falling out many years before and Kaye didn't want to work with Goldwyn again, but the producer coaxed the movie clown into taking on the role for which he became notably famous.
Video/DVD availability: VHS (HBO Home Video, out of print), DVD (MGM/UA Home Video)
Samuel Goldwyn Company / RKO Radio Pictures
Story: Myles Connolly (based on his novella)
Screenplay: Moss Hart, Ben Hecht
Non-Original Music: Franz Liszt, Franz Schubert
Musical Director: Walter Scharf
Songs: Frank Loesser
Cinematography: Harry Stradling
Editing: Daniel Mandell
Art Direction: Clavé, Richard Day
Set Decoration: Howard Bristol
Special Effects: Clarence Slifer, Daniel Hays
Produced by Samuel Goldwyn
Directed by Charles Vidor
(01-20-07)
