New on DVD: ‘The Wizard of Oz’ anniversary edition

By Bruce Dancis
Scripps Howard News
“The Wizard of Oz” has become so ingrained in the American psyche that today, 70 years after it was first released by MGM, the movie continues to inspire wonderment, laughter and tears.
In our daily conversations, we still quote memorable lines from the movie: “I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore”; “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain”; “I’ll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too”; and, of course, “There’s no place like home.” Even Andrew Sarris, a prominent film critic/historian who does not care for the movie, has written that it is “the closest thing we have on film to an official national fairy tale.”
A “70th-Anniversary Ultimate Collector’s Edition” was released last week, the movie’s first appearance in a Blu-ray version with a high-definition remastered picture and Dolby TrueHD audio, as well as 16 hours of bonus features tracing its development, production and marketing (Warner Home Video, $84.99, rated G; a standard DVD edition is also available, for $69.92). These features tell the inside story of how a risky and expensive production, worked on by 14 different writers and five directors, could become one of Hollywood’s most beloved films.
Among the extras are deleted scenes and home movies showing the jazzy song-and-dance number “The Jitterbug” and an extended version of the Scarecrow’s dance to “If I Only Had a Brain,” which was choreographed by Busby Berkeley — neither of which survived the final cut. The Blu-ray version provides an additional four hours of documentaries, short features, several silent-film treatments of the story, a sing-along track and collectibles such as a “Wizard of Oz” watch, facsimiles of original promotional material and a 52-page hardcover book.
Several documentaries remind us of the enduring popularity of the source material, L. Frank Baum’s children’s tale from 1900 about a Kansas girl and her dog who journey to a mysterious land filled with diminutive Munchkins, evil and good witches, a modern Emerald City presided over by a strange wizard and three unforgettable characters — a Scarecrow, a Tin Woodsman and a Cowardly Lion. Baum himself is the subject of a 1990 made-for-TV movie, “The Dreamer of Oz,” included in the Blu-ray edition, starring John Ritter in the title role.
The overwhelming feeling for this critic from watching “The Wizard of Oz” again and perusing the supplemental material on this 70th-anniversary release is amazement: amazement over its spectacular look, memorable songs and remarkable cast; and amazement that it was ever made at all.
The important contribution of young assistant producer Arthur Freed, who first conceived of “The Wizard of Oz” as a musical even before Walt Disney’s animated musical fantasy, “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs,” captivated audiences in 1938, is also recognized. Other features explore the magic-making of the film’s creative crew — including the remarkable sets and costumes, and amazing special effects like the tornado and the key role of director Victor Fleming, who came late to a troubled production but quickly set it on its immortal course.
Due tribute is paid to the impact of composer Harold Arlen and lyricist E.Y. “Yip” Harburg’s memorable songs, from the beauty of “Over the Rainbow,” named by the American Film Institute as the No. 1 movie song of all time, to the punning humor of “If I Only Had a Brain,” in which the Cowardly Lion rhymes “prowess” with “mowess” (mouse).
The ingenious manner in which “The Wizard of Oz” was marketed is also explained, beginning with its initial release in August 1939, a year marked by the production of so many great movies that it is often considered the best in Hollywood history. This was followed by well-publicized theatrical reissues and its popular annual presentations on television beginning in the 1950s.
Most importantly, these features remind us of the movie’s extraordinarily talented cast, beginning with the 16-year-old Judy Garland. Already a veteran of seven films when she made “The Wizard of Oz,” Garland brought a vulnerable child’s sensitivity to her role as Dorothy, as well as one of the best singing voices ever heard in motion pictures. Ray Bolger (the Scarecrow), Jack Haley (the Tin Man) and, especially, Bert Lahr (the Cowardly Lion) were given the opportunity to show off their formidable talents as dancers, singers, humorists and hams. Frank Morgan’s over-the-top style worked well in his multiple roles (including the Wizard), and Margaret Hamilton created one of film’s most indelible villains as the Wicked Witch of the West.
The immediate response to “The Wizard of Oz,” by both the public and by movie critics, is passed over rather quickly. Certainly, the film created lots of attention when it was released and long lines were seen at the theaters playing it. But, as critic Michael Sragow, author of “Victor Fleming: An American Movie Master,” points out, the film’s opening-release gross resulted in an initial loss of $750,000 for MGM. Contributing to this, Sragow notes, was the popularity of other films in 1939, which prevented holdover runs for “The Wizard of Oz,” and the fact that children — a key part of the film’s audience — paid lower ticket prices than adults. It took several re-releases of the film in subsequent years for it to finally make money for MGM.
While “The Wizard of Oz” was reviewed favorably by most contemporary film critics — The New York Times’ Frank Nugent called it “a delightful piece of wonder-working” — that verdict wasn’t unanimous. Otis Ferguson, writing in The New Republic, dismissed it as humorless, heavy-handed and affected, while The New Yorker’s Russell Maloney called the film “a stinkaroo” that “displays no trace of imagination, good taste, or ingenuity.” Whew.
The overwhelming feeling for this critic from watching “The Wizard of Oz” again and perusing the supplemental material on this 70th-anniversary release is amazement: amazement over its spectacular look, memorable songs and remarkable cast; amazement over the scene in which Dorothy steps from her sepia-toned farmhouse into the glorious Technicolor world of Munchkinland, and amazement that it was ever made at all.
