"Harvey" (1950) Of all the films ever produced in Hollywood, only a very few can be labeled as charming, eccentric and well-scripted at the same time. I suggest Mary Chase's Pulitzer Prize-winning play, "Harvey", adapted for the screen by herself, Oscar Brodney and Myles Connolly, can be considered one such work. The main story of the film can be summed in a single sentence: "Bright Elwood P. Dowd, Yale graduate, is driving his two female relatives to distraction because of his unfeigned friendship for and keeping company with a very tall white rabbit named Harvey, a pooka or Celtic animal familiar". The viewers are told that Dowd has inherited a house and money from his Mother, that his elder sister and her daughter are living in his house; and we see that what he does with his days is be pleasant to everyone, which includes having a drink every day at his favorite bar, iniviting all sorts of persons to dinner--and introducing citizens to his best friend. During the narrative, we do not at any time see Harvey, but we are given visual evidence of his real existence. The thrust of this charming, continually interesting and unusual story therefore is not whether Harvey is real but instead whether each person to whom Dowd introduces him approves of Harvey enough to respond to Dowd's interest, kindness and suggestions about how to stop being conventionally judgmental and start being more accepting of others--so they can learn to be happy. This is the same muted but definite anti-United States and pro-American message that one finds in a hundreds of other plays, serious and comedic--"The Philadelphia Story" and many others. This is the message of all films that scorn the century-long totalitarianizing of U.S. institutions under infallibility-preaching so-called leaders; of every film made about people of intelligence, sympathy and ability being forced to accept that they nowadays cannot succeed in becoming happy by use of their talents. That frustration, I suggest, led Chase to write the mid-century "Harvey", long before others put forth the same message about a "loss of humanity". Harvey is the same height as Abraham Lincoln, and his purpose, only half-explicitly stated, is the same as Lincoln's: a house divided against itself cannot stand, and he is quietly trying to free the half of those in the United States who are spoiling their lives and those of others by acting against fairness. Harvey can "stop time" and allow a person to live our his fantasies--or else improve his/her life by convincing him to ignore the artificial barriers and class-distinctions that have been allowed to spoil the justice and happiness of millions. During the film, we see the shocking effect that the honesty of Dowd, who has given up boss-over-others games, has on those who are still buying into this unAmerican nonsense--all the while pretending they are doing ethically what they should. Veteran Henry Koster directed very solidly, with William Daniels' remarkable consistent cinematography, sets by Julia Heron and Bernard Herzbrun, understated music by Frank Skinner, skilled Art Direction by Herzbrun and Nathan Juran and Orry-Kelly's costumes as ornaments of his well-mounted expansion of a successful theatrical play. Among the large cast appearing in John Beck's production, supporting players such as Almira Sessions, Dick Wessel, Pat Flaherty, Nana Bryant, Minerva Urecal, Maudie Prickett, Graycie Mills, Clem Bevans, Aileen Carlyle and Wallace Ford all gain notice. Major parts are played by Jesse White, Peggy Dow, William H. Lynn, Victoria Horne and the great Cecil Kellaway. Charles Drake plays Dow's love interest, Josephine Hull his long-suffering sister, and James Stewart portrays Dowd as an amiable eccentric whose methods may be questioned but whose motives are depicted as unfailingly admirable. Unusual and funny.
Review of Harvey
