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Gordon's Beautiful Morning, 9 April 2008
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Author:
John Johnson from Lincoln, Nebraska
In part, I think it is because when I was a kid my dad went around the
house singing the song that the first two minutes of Oklahoma! are
among my favorite in all of movieland. Gordon MacRae, tall in the
saddle, young, handsome, with a bright orange shirt that brings out the
glory of Technicolor, booming out "O What a Beautiful Morning" it
just sends me. It's archetypal. Even the two box elder trees he passes
by seem magnificent and perfect to me. And then, the lace curtains
blowing from the yellow farmhouse window, introducing Shirley Jones
it curls my toes.
Of course, it's a great song, that's why dad was singing it, that's why
Gordon, buried a few miles from where I write, had the opening notes of
the song cut on his tombstone.
There are plenty of flaws in the opening moments, too: the choppy
continuity of the cuts, the short shadows looking like a beautiful
noon, not morning. And Aunt Eller is so deaf she doesn't hear a horse
come up behind her? Well, the song is so perfect I let all the rest
joyfully pass. The humanity of the artifice shines in its flaws.
Overall, the movie is pretty corny, and I'm really not too big on it;
but even still, I'll take it. The last time I watched Oklahoma! a
friend of mind called me up to go see Funny Games. He used all this
high, lit-crit kind of talk to sell it to me, but honestly, I'm tired
of nihilism. I'd rather be happy, even if I have to align myself with
corny things. Maybe all Hollywood sells is hormones, but that desolated
one when evil wins in a picture, I just can't abide by it anymore. Give
me the corn.
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