Going My Way / Holiday Inn

Mixing pious Crosby with show-biz Crosby works because, in the last analysis, he's still the same old Bing, affable, low key and agreeable. His priest is still a mensch. His show biz vet is a regular guy looking for a way OUT of the limelight and into a sane and stable way of life. In other words, he's a mensch too.

If you were raised Catholic in the last century, you know that among the clergy, you had your staid, old-school, well, OLD-COUNTRY types, who struck fear in the hearts of children and adults in the parish. Then you had your spirited, fun-loving priests (and nuns), who weren't above playing a few innings of baseball or running a sack race.

GOING MY WAY touches, very lightly, upon the clash of those two strains among the clergy of the era. Actually, the more traditional Father Fitzgibbon (Barry Fitzgerald) is more irascible than truly terrifying. And young Father O'Malley is as all business behind the charm and easy going manner. He just knows that you win more flies with honey than vinegar. And he knows how to get things done. He also knows that he can loosen up the older priest with a few rounds of golf and some fresh air.

The plot amounts to little more than "Let's put on a show to save the parish church." Almost absurdly, a famous opera star (played by famous opera star Rise Stevens) shows up to help out, and high power music publishers rush to buy the young priest's original composition "Swinging On a Star" after hearing Bing and his choir of former street kids sing it as a lark. It's hokum, of course, but it's almost guaranteed to make viewers nostalgic for a more innocent era--even if it's one before their own time.

HOLIDAY INN is a reminder that self-reflexive musicals were almost an established sub-genre from the early 40s on. It's a show-biz tale which turns into your definitive movie-within-a-movie by the end of the film. The show biz format is a little bow to realism (no bursting into song while walking down the street, or scaling a mountain). It's also a tacit admission of Hollywood's self-involvement (the assumption that everyone finds show biz tales utterly fascinating) and, simultaneously, a reaffirmation of mainstream (non-showbiz) values. Distancing themselves from Hollywood and Broadway phoniness is the only way that Bing and his lady love Marjorie Reynolds can find true happiness--of course they still get to stage elaborate floor shows in their Holiday Inn, so ultimately, it's the best of both worlds.

Both movies have plenty of charm, and, as I say, reflect an innocence we seem to have longsince lost. It's no wonder that Bing Crosby films, even when they're not explicitly holiday-themed, have become standard holiday fare for many viewers.