Part II of Corn: The Path of Most Resistance
A Formalist Approach to Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939) – Formalist
So, Senator Booker gave a marathon speech, I had a cry, and Mr. Smith collapsed on the Senate floor. That’s where we left off in Part I of our Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939) review in which I recounted a personal reflection on the horrible, beautiful curse of being an American and learning the importance of canned corn.
The Review Roulette wheel landed on Formalist as our approach for this week, so let’s talk about populist cinema and the visual construction of some of those corny as hell American icons that give Mr. Smith its Capracorn sheen.
Full disclosure: I am again having a difficult personal week, and so if this review is a bit janky, I apologize in advance. If you have any good vibes, juju, or wishes, please spare a sweet thought for my family.
So, as mentioned in Part I, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is about Junior Senator Jefferson Smith (Jimmy Stewart), a Boy Rangers leader who is chosen as a lacky for corrupt oligarchs to puppet in Congress, though Mr. Smith’s moral fiber forbids him from allowing such a deception of the American people to go unchecked. In defiance of the corruption, Mr. Smith gives a marathon speech of over 24 hours until he passes out from exhaustion on the Senate floor.
As the film builds up to the iconic filibuster, we are treated to the corniest, lamest, most Capra-esque visions of America. These visions, by which I mean the literal visuals in the film, are hallmarks of populist cinema that emerged in the 1930s and was largely dominated by Frank Capra himself. This genre is all about promoting the power of an individual – a small-town, good neighborly, decent, all-American man – who is the underdog in a fight against a seemingly insurmountable evil in the form of Big Business or corrupt political machines. One of my favorite quotes encapsulating populist cinema is by Wes D. Gehring who wrote that the heart of the political ideology behind populist cinema is “a basic belief held by many people that the superior and majority will of the common man is forever threatened by the usurping, sophisticated, evil few,” and we can see why this came about in the 1930s, and, further, why we need it just as much today.
In the face of the Great Depression, a declining faith in individualism, and the acknowledgement that the government was failing the lowest classes of society, populist cinema was a source of hope and encouragement to hold fast to American ideals. By being the best people we can be to our fellow man – not trying to overthrow the country but fighting against the impulse to lean into the anger and fear and finger pointing, scapegoating, distracting garbage that the corrupt political machines want us to take focus off them, we can fix this country from the bottom up. Is it a bit of a fantasy? Yes, absolutely. Does that mean we can’t strive for being good people to strangers on the street because being good to someone doesn’t immediately fix the whole world order? No, and it’s crazy to even ask that question but there’s a human impulse to give into despair and I think if more people asked themselves that question in the face of despair, they’d choose goodness over neglect of others. And Capra thought that too, so he made these exaggerated films about just being a good person and made a Mr. Smith who could have easily been Clark Kent.
So, the inherent belief behind populist cinema is that if we can remind people of earlier idealized versions of the American promise, maybe they’ll be inspired and motivated to reflect it in their own lives outside of a cinema. And I’ll tell you one thing, it works 100% of the time on me. I always actively feel like I want to go be nice to someone after 2 hours with Mr. Smith and George Bailey. This reminder of the ideal version of the common man, that anyone can just be nice to a stranger – or on their behalf as Mr. Smith is fighting for the general rights of the American people to be represented in their own government – is a resurrection of a traditional American mythology of hope in the power of the people.
In order to resurrect that feel-good spirit, populist cinema has five (or so) specific hallmarks:
A common man working for the common good
That common man rallying other common men, women, and/or children against a large political or industrial opponent
A looming presence of the past in a father figure who represents the older generation’s wisdom to guide the younger common man’s progressive energies
Depictions of the Founding Fathers to serve the same function as 3. but with specific American founding principles – usually Abraham Lincoln or Andrew Jackson
A message of hope to leave the audience with
All of these apply to Mr. Smith, especially the father figure one in a very beautiful and well-developed way, but we’re going to focus on the fourth one. This film is so beautifully shot and there are a couple specific visuals I want to focus on of how the American iconography of DC is presented.
Mr. Smith is obsessed with Lincoln, and at first, you’re like “alright, man, we get it” just like the people In DC who are immediately turned off by his admiration of the city and its iconography. When he first arrives in DC, Mr. Smith sees the dome of the Capitol Building and, as if in a trance, slips his handlers and gets on the first sightseeing tour bus he can, needing to immerse himself in the history of the city. His excitement and awe are palpable and embarrassing until we get to the Lincoln Memorial.
As he stands before Lincoln, a visually small individual before a physical and metaphorical colossus, we start to see that Mr. Smith is onto something. He turns to the left and walks towards the text of the Gettysburg Address scrawled on the wall of a memorial, and the camera cuts to a small child holding his father’s hand and reading the words of the speech aloud. We cut to a black man, holding his hat over his heart as he listens to the white child’s recitation, and then we hold on a shot of the words on the wall, lit to emphasize the magnitude of the moment: “… that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom – and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” The whole display shifts the corniness of Mr. Smith’s eagerness into a heavy reverence for the weight of those words and the Americans present not only to bear witness but also to practice the sentiment behind them.
As Mr. Smith’s assistant, Miss Saunders (Jean Arthur), also comes to realize, the Junior Senator is a refreshingly genuine person whose corniness and odd obsessions with American iconography are lifelines for her to remember why she ever came to DC in the first place. His passion for kindness and righteousness that are rooted in his interpretations of the American promise reinvigorate her and remind her that democracy is not a given, that fighting for what is right in the moment of a wrong is the only way to ensure that that promise is one step closer to being realized.
When the corruption becomes too much for our populist hero after the swamp people in Congress and the media get him down, Mr. Smith revisits the Lincoln Memorial to find the strength to carry on. While there, Miss Saunders arrives to reciprocate, reminding him of his own passion and using her expertise to help him find a path of most resistance against the anti-democratic forces trying to profit off legislation: the filibuster.
Now, the filibuster scenes are iconic and moving and powerful in their own ways. His collapse on the Senate floor and the climax of the story are both stunning, and I highly recommend watching the film for the full effect. Jimmy Stewart does an incredible job of aging himself throughout the film after several people suggest that he is just a simple boy as leader of the Boy Rangers, an idealist, a “Junior” Senator with no idea how the government he claims to love so much even works. As the film progresses, and especially in the filibuster scenes, Stewart seems to have matured significantly while maintaining a youthfulness of spirit and belief, bringing together the vitality of his age and the wisdom imparted to him by both his late father and Lincoln. The effect is visually impressive and why Stewart is such a standout star in the 30s and beyond.
I want to finish with the reminder that Senator Cory Booker of New Jersey is why I watched Mr. Smith Goes to Washington at all. In this timeline, news stories get pushed out of the cycle in a matter of hours let alone days or a week – remember Signalgate? That was at least four big news stories ago but in reality, that was only 2 and a half weeks ago. We must, must remember that Booker stood for us. Whether you agree with his voting record or his beliefs, he stood for all of us to alert people to the fact that these are not normal times. He used American political and cultural icons, speeches, poems, ideas in an attempt to create a Capracorn moment in real life, to bring that fantasy off the screen and into reality to try to reinvigorate the people and remind them of their power.
It is important to feel a sense of community and belonging in the country and it is important to believe that a better world is possible. We may not agree on what “better” looks like exactly, but it’s important that we try to bring it about because this shit right now? This is not “better”. It’s not even “good” or “fine” or simply “bad”. It’s a crisis as deep as we have ever had in the US, and we have a duty to stand up inspired so that we may inspire others to reclaim our government of the people, by the people, and for the people before it perishes from the earth.
Because I’m Never Done When I Say I Am
Quick Notes
One other thing about Mr. Smith that I think is important is that it’s funny as hell. Like laugh out loud funny at times. For such a serious topic and issues as the US Congress being bought and sold by an oligarch, it’s surprisingly hilarious, and I don’t think that’s an accident. Comedy was the perfect avenue for this film.
Additionally, one of my favorite worldviews is expressed in this film when Mr. Smith quotes his late father with the words, "Haven't you ever noticed how grateful you are to see daylight again after going through a dark tunnel? Well, open your eyes and always see life around you as if you'd just come out of a long tunnel." The full exchange is below after Mr. Smith asks Miss Saunders if she is familiar with the countryside of the state she works for.
