Sullivan's Travels (1942)

This film is generally considered one of celebrated writer/director

Preston Sturges' greatest dramatic comedies - and a satirical statement
of his own director's creed. One of his more interesting and intelligent
films from a repertoire of about twelve films in his entire career, Sturges'
Sullivan's Travels satirizes Hollywood pretension and excesses with his
particular brand of sophisticated verbal wit and dialogue, satire and fast-
paced slapstick. Sturges was one of the first scriptwriters in the sound
era to direct his own screenplays. He was assisted by future westerns
film director Anthony Mann, and cinematographer John Seitz (who later
filmed such notable film noir's as This Gun For Hire (1942), Double
Indemnity (1944), The Big Clock (1948), and Sunset Boulevard (1950),
as well as two other Sturges works, Hail the Conquering Hero (1944)
and The Miracle of Morgan's Creek (1944)).
This witty journey film from Paramount Studios skillfully mixes every
conceivable cinematic genre type and tone of film possible - tragic
melodrama, farce, prison film, serious drama, social documentary,
slapstick, romance, comedy, action, and even musical, in about a dozen
sequences. Due to confusion over the varying, inconsistent moods
within the film, the marketing campaign decided to focus on Veronica
Lake's peekaboo hairdo instead, with the tagline: "VERONICA LAKE's
ON THE TAKE." Visual gags in the comic scenes include a prolonged
cross-country car chase, a pratfall into a mansion's swimming pool,
changing facial expressions in a portrait, and tramps scampering onto
boxcars, among others. The film's title is a vague reference to Gulliver's Travels (Jonathan Swift's satirical 1726
tale of Lemuel Gulliver's fanciful journey into strange, unknown worlds of Lilliputians, Brobdingnags,
Houyhnhnms, and Laputians).
The film tells of the 'mission' of 'Sully' (Joel McCrea), a big-shot Hollywood director of lightweight comedies to
experience suffering in the world before producing his next socially-conscious film of hard times - an epic titled 'O
Brother, Where Art Thou?' about the common man. [Film-makers Joel and Ethan Coen paid homage to Sturges
and his admirable film by naming their own 21st century film O Brother, Where Art Thou (2000)?] After some
failed attempts dressed as a hobo and companionship on the road with an aspiring blonde actress simply called
The Girl (Veronica Lake in her second picture following her work in I Wanted Wings (1941)) and wearing boy's
clothes, he succeeds in losing his freedom, identity and name, health,
pride and money. Incarcerated in a prison work camp as the end result of
his misadventures, and as part of an audience of chain-gang convicts
watching a screening in a Southern black church of a Walt Disney cartoon
(starring Mickey Mouse and Pluto), he retains one final ability - - to laugh.
He succeeds in understanding that his attitude toward the poor had
bordered on patronization. He finally realizes the uplifting power of
laughter, and decides to return to his true calling - the making of
entertaining comedies to entertain rather than to edify.
Preston Sturges pokes fun at virtually everything in Sullivan's Travels -
including (luckily) himself. While sparing neither the single-minded
hucksters otherwise known as producers nor the successful director of
comedies suddenly gripped with a social conscience, Sturges also attacks
just the sort of movie Frank Capra was making at the time - Meet John
Doe (1941). Capra himself had also been a successful director of
comedies (It Happened One Night [1934], You Can't Take It With You
[1938]), before his seriousness got the better of him. When Capra tried to
combine his social conscience with his comedic genius, the results were
usually uneven. While Mr. Deeds Goes To Town (1936) was initially successful as a serio-comic look at
Depression-era economics, Capra found himself increasingly at odds with the status quo. And his populism
pushed both Mr. Smith Goes To Washington (1939) and Meet John Doe into perilous territory. Neither film had a
suitable ending, as if Capra, having confronted Good and Evil so convincingly, couldn't decide who should win.
Sturges never possessed such ambitions, yet he approaches, in Sullivan's
Travels, the very territory that would ultimately undo the Capra ethic. One of
the cardinal rules of dramaturgy is never to tamper with what is generally
known as the tone of a piece. Sturges knew that his bread & butter was
satire (even if it employed the very broadest slapstick). He bravely tried to
leaven his bread with an altogether serious episode in his satire - the
moment when Sullivan is hit in the head. Thereafter, Sullivan's good
intentions become the paving stones of the Road to Hell. Ironically, of all
Sturges' films, Sullivan's Travels is probably the best known today precisely
for its peek at the altogether depressing facts of Depression-era America: the
hordes of hobos jostling for a place on the bread line or a space on the
freight car or a cot in the flop-house. But, rather than seek some sort of
message from this brush with reality, Sturges only uses it to reinforce his
labored point - that none of this matters to your average audience, that what
we want above all is to forget all that, to be entertained by something so
richly superfluous, so magisterially superficial that we are taken, with our
hearty consent, to a place so beautiful or ridiculous that life itself - our life -
becomes a distant murmur, a bothersome echo outside the tender confines of the theater, a world with which we
must all rudely reacquaint ourselves at the end of every such movie.
The script for Sullivan's Travels is almost perfect. Peppered with brilliant one-liners and fast-paced dialog, you'll
enjoy the film even more with subsequent viewings. But just as compelling is what Sturges is able to convey
without dialog. Early in the film, Sullivan watches a movie in a crowded theater, filled with noisy kids and
snacking adults. Sullivan's a long way from a studio screening room, and, though annoyed at the distraction, he
realizes these people are his audience. Later in the film, Sturges constructs a montage in which Sullivan and
Lake's character come face to face with real poverty. Their shadows play on the faces of the poor as they walk
through a shantytown straight out of The Grapes of Wrath. It's a haunting image that lends a little weight to this
light comedy. This film could be criticized for light treatment of a serious subject, were it not for this sequence,
and the entire final half hour of the film, in which Sullivan truly finds the destitution for which he's been looking.
Despite the fact that the guy is fabulously wealthy and more famous than you'll ever be, you can't dislike Sullivan
because he's so well intentioned, if a little naive. He truly wants to make his work meaningful. He's not arrogant,
indeed he doesn't think he's a great director, he just wants to be better. Sullivan is also virtuous - he refuses to
get involved with Lake's character because he's still
married - albeit only legally. Joel McCrea turns in
arguably the greatest non-Western performance of his
career. His natural likability is key is making this film
work.
Veronica Lake is such a powerful force in this film that
her character didn't even need a name. She's simply
called "The Girl" in the credits; it enigmatically
captures her beauty, wit and charm. For those of you
who've never heard of or seen Lake, you're in for quite
a treat (especially the pool robe scene). Incidentally, it
was Lake for whom Kim Basinger's character was
modeled (literally) in L.A. Confidential.
Having chosen a misguided film director as the main
character of his own film, many critics have generally
assumed that the film has a personal, introspective,
autobiographical slant, with Sturges arguing for and
affirming the production of light comedies (to lift
viewers' spirits) while providing commentary upon
serious 'message' films. This superb film lacked even
a single Academy Award Oscar nomination when it
was released, but is now listed as number 61 on the
American Film Institute's 100 Greatest Movies of All
Time.
 Credits

Sullivan's Travels - 1942 - Paramount Pictures, Inc.

Producer: B. G. DeSylva
Director: Preston Sturges
Writer: Preston Sturges

Cast:
Joel McCrea ... John L. Lloyd 'Sully' Sullivan
Veronica Lake ... The Girl
Robert Warwick ... Mr. Lebrand
William Demarest ... Mr. Jones
Franklin Pangborn ... Mr. Casalsis
Porter Hall ... Mr. Hadrian
Byron Foulger ... Mr. Johnny Valdelle
Margaret Hayes ... Secretary
Robert Greig ... Burroughs (Sullivan's butler)
Eric Blore ... Sullivan's valet

Cinematography: John Seitz

Editing: Stuart Gilmore
Music: Sigmund Krumgold
Art Direction: Hans Dreier, Earl Hedrick
Sound: Harry Mills, Walter Oberst