If Pacific Islanders can be considered a race, and in some questionnaires they seem to be, then The Tuttles of Tahiti may be considered a pioneering (for its time) film representation of a racially integrated family. But there's not a bit of preaching to shove race mixing down anyone's throat. The Tuttles are naive and incompetent in their attempts to maintain financial solvency. They are also materialistic and fun-loving. The clan's females are impressively hip-swinging in dance, and the males offer seemingly authentic Polynesian grunts to the music. Charles Laughton is, of course, an acting genius as the doltish elder on whom dozens of family members depend for leadership. His spectacular failures are the stuff of which this charming comedy is made. I first saw this film when it was released in 1942, when I was 14 and too young to appreciate its subtle qualities. (After all, Lost Horizon author James Hilton was one of the writers.) But seeing it again at age 89 was a fulfilling experience. Nobody makes movies like this anymore, so we've got a special gem here.
Review of The Tuttles of Tahiti
