Miracle on 34th Street

Since I was looking at Maureen O'Hara pictures this fall, I figured a good choice for my Christmas movie this year would be her 1947 film Miracle on 34th Street, which, amazingly, I don't think I had seen before, at least not all the way through. I did see a TV remake about forty years ago, with David Hartman and Sebastian Cabot as Kris Kringle.

I think everyone knows the story, even if they haven't seen it. A kindly old gent (Edmund Gwenn, who won an Oscar for the performance) styles himself as the Santa, the genuine article. In reality he lives in a retirement home in Great Neck, but the doctor there feels he is doing no one any harm.

When Gwenn goes to the Macy's day parade and finds the Santa soused to the gills, he reports this to the parade organizer (O'Hara), who hires him on the spot. He's such a hit that they keep him on as department store Santa.

Gwenn is so kindly he will send shoppers to other stores to get what they want (a cameo by Thelma Ritter as one of the shoppers is terrific, as she always was). This turns out to be a marketing boon, as Macy's is seen as the "store with heart" (to be truthful, this was one of the great product placements in movie history. Gimbel's must have seethed).

But the store psychologist has a bug up his ass about Gwenn, and seeks to get him committed. O'Hara's burgeoning romantic partner, John Payne, takes his case, and everyone is leery about having Santa sent to the nuthouse, especially the judge (Gene Lockhart), who is running or re-election.

All of this is really secondary to the main theme--that faith is better than reason. O'Hara's daughter (Natalie Wood) has always been taught that there is no Santa. She has absolutely no imagination at all, in fact, which I think is taking it too far--I would think it would be impossible to have a normal child who doesn't have any kind of imagination. Wood wants to believe in Santa, and asks him for a house in the suburbs.

The issue of faith normally appears in religion. In this film it's defined in believing in something despite common sense, which might as well apply to believing in a God (or gods). Believing in a god is akin to believing in Santa Claus, but in my view, believing in Santa is far more innocuous, as no one has gone to war over who's vision of Santa is correct.

The film was directed by George Seaton and won another Oscar for screenplay, but truth be told, the film isn't that good. The pace is choppy, the lead performances are flat (except for Gwenn's) and the message muddy.