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Nostalgia November 2016

Silver Screen, Golden Years

Miracle on 34th Street and the Start of the Modern Christmas

By Jacqueline T. Lynch

The movie does not predict, yet shows the foundations of a future when holiday commercialism climbed to heights far greater than what Edmund Gwenn lamented in the movie, of a time of paying with plastic, and of over-spending with plastic.

Miracle on 34th Street (1947) sets two interesting precedents for the American public. First, it becomes a traditional must-see film on television for the Christmas holiday season, something warm and fuzzy, and nostalgic, and frequently re-made. Second, and more importantly, it openly and frankly acknowledges, perhaps even establishes, the phenomenon of yuletide commercialism.

Black Friday binges, Cyber Mondays and Thanksgiving as a warm-up act for the big show to follow came in the wake of this movie.

Maureen O'Hara is in human resources at New York City's famed Macy's department store, and is in charge of running the Thanksgiving Parade. She hires Edmund Gwenn as a last-minute replacement for the fellow supposed to play Santa Claus, whose float brings up the rear of the parade, just as it does today. She has unwittingly hired the real Santa Claus to play himself, and that is where the plot takes off. John Payne is her prospective beau and later, Santa's attorney, and little Natalie Wood her daughter, who does not believe in Santa.

Believing in Santa is not logical to this matter-of-fact little girl who must learn to play, use her imagination, and believe. Ironically, logic, not belief, is the twist in what humorously establishes the authenticity of Santa.

It is a charming and clever finale in which Mr. Payne proves Edmund Gwenn is the real Santa by establishing legal precedent that because the U.S. Postal Service has delivered "Dear Santa" letters to Gwenn, this infers that the United States government recognizes Gwenn as Santa (and this New York City district court will not override the U.S government).

We have a few shots of Macy's and a couple of actors playing Mr. Macy and his rival, Mr. Gimbel, (Gimbel's department store, like so many in our downtown department stores of days gone by, is no longer with us) but it's not really so much about Macy's or New York City. This could be any department store in any town. These could be your kids waiting in line to sit in Santa's lap, your grandkids, or it could be you when you were a tot.

We have a reflection of the late war with probably the most touching scene in the movie where the little girl from Holland, who does not speak English, is captivated by a Santa Claus who can easily converse with her in Dutch.

But most of the film is not about the past, either the "good old days" or wartime horrors gratefully behind us. It is not even about the year the movie was released, 1945, with bustling well-dressed shoppers using cash instead of credit cards and content to wait until Christmas Eve to decorate their real trees, with dreams of their first suburban post-war homes dancing in their heads topping their wish list, and kids wanting Flexible Flyer sleds, dolls, and toy fire trucks not Xbox games, Playstation games, or iPhones.

In an offbeat way, it really launches us into the future, our present day, a time which this film maps out even if it cannot envision it, a world where this long-forgotten movie became famous as an annual ritual because of television, and because it fell into the public domain. The movie does not predict, yet shows the foundations of a future when holiday commercialism climbed to heights far greater than what Edmund Gwenn lamented in the movie, of a time of paying with plastic, and of over-spending with plastic. It is about the television reporters on the economy gauging, analyzing, cringing and exulting about how much money is being spent by the shopper, by the minute, in an America where two-thirds of our economy is dependent on this one short holiday shopping season.

It has seemingly led to putting up the tree on Thanksgiving now instead of Christmas Eve, after rushing through the turkey dinner. It is about watching Miracle on 34th Street on TV, not because it is one of the few classic films which mentions that most American of holidays, Thanksgiving, but because it leads us into Christmas – ready, set, go right after you finish your piece of pumpkin pie.

Or, maybe your second piece of pumpkin pie.

 

Jacqueline T. Lynch is the author of Ann Blyth: Actress. Singer. Star. and Movies in Our Time: Hollywood Mirrors and Mimics the Twentieth Century, available online at Amazon, CreateSpace, and the author. Website: www.JacquelineTLynch.com.

Meet Jacqueline