Sturges, the stepson of a wealthy, influential New York stockbroker, (whose last name he took as his own), in this movie tries to sell a patronizing, elitist premise as laudable "social conscience" to a credulous 1941 public. And this offense to intelligence has stood the test of time surviving the decades to stand as a Sturges comedic masterpiece.
In evaluating this movie, you have to put aside nostalgia and leave behind the hype surrounding the "worthy" reputation of Preston Sturges.
Remove the "wacky" screwball dressing adorning Sullivan's Travels and what you're left with is a depiction of the poor and disadvantaged as a business demographic: consumers of a commodity. Never mind that the reality was that a ticket for the 10 cent "picture-show" would have been a real luxury back then, an expense the poor could ill afford. Here Sturges won't even deign to suggest that they eat cake; he wants to nourish their empty stomachs with laughter.
The movie execs as portrayed in the storyline here, accustomed to living in their bubbles of privilege, see themselves as purveyors of a social service by making movies that give the unfortunate a few hours of laughs, a respite from their miserable existence. A reductive and simplistic bit of self-righteous justification.
Joel McCrea, as the movie director Sullivan, masquerading as a down and outer to gain material for "serious" film topics, engages in nothing but a tourist romp through the world of the have-nots. His travels through the netherworld are accomplished under the surveillance of an entourage of assistants and consultants who follow him around as a force in constant and protective vigil.
Veronica Lake is a wraith-like bit of feminine fluff, a decorative element to provide romantic interest. She's too radiant and groomed to be believable as a disillusioned starlet, worn out by the trials and tribulations undergone in a failed attempt to achieve Hollywood stardom.
The scene in the church is crafted as a plot device for dramatic epiphany and recognition. The congregation of African-American worshippers are joined by a group of convict laborers, and as the preacher emotes, "all in the sight of God," and after an introductory burst of hymn singing in unison, this assembly is treated to a show of cartoons...in the likes of Mickey Mouse et al. Like an alien, continuing his rocket ride into another galaxy, Hollywood honcho Sullivan, suddenly with wonderment sees the light. This flock of humble, reverent souls burst out in unrestrained laughter, an almost religious communion of joy overtakes all. Wow!...realizes the movie director I've got the formula now!
Charlie Chaplin, purportedly, refused to be connected with the Sullivan's Travels project and it can be guessed at...for good reason. Chaplin's films could make you laugh and cry, they convey humanity and compassion. In this film, Sturges makes you cringe.
In evaluating this movie, you have to put aside nostalgia and leave behind the hype surrounding the "worthy" reputation of Preston Sturges.
Remove the "wacky" screwball dressing adorning Sullivan's Travels and what you're left with is a depiction of the poor and disadvantaged as a business demographic: consumers of a commodity. Never mind that the reality was that a ticket for the 10 cent "picture-show" would have been a real luxury back then, an expense the poor could ill afford. Here Sturges won't even deign to suggest that they eat cake; he wants to nourish their empty stomachs with laughter.
The movie execs as portrayed in the storyline here, accustomed to living in their bubbles of privilege, see themselves as purveyors of a social service by making movies that give the unfortunate a few hours of laughs, a respite from their miserable existence. A reductive and simplistic bit of self-righteous justification.
Joel McCrea, as the movie director Sullivan, masquerading as a down and outer to gain material for "serious" film topics, engages in nothing but a tourist romp through the world of the have-nots. His travels through the netherworld are accomplished under the surveillance of an entourage of assistants and consultants who follow him around as a force in constant and protective vigil.
Veronica Lake is a wraith-like bit of feminine fluff, a decorative element to provide romantic interest. She's too radiant and groomed to be believable as a disillusioned starlet, worn out by the trials and tribulations undergone in a failed attempt to achieve Hollywood stardom.
The scene in the church is crafted as a plot device for dramatic epiphany and recognition. The congregation of African-American worshippers are joined by a group of convict laborers, and as the preacher emotes, "all in the sight of God," and after an introductory burst of hymn singing in unison, this assembly is treated to a show of cartoons...in the likes of Mickey Mouse et al. Like an alien, continuing his rocket ride into another galaxy, Hollywood honcho Sullivan, suddenly with wonderment sees the light. This flock of humble, reverent souls burst out in unrestrained laughter, an almost religious communion of joy overtakes all. Wow!...realizes the movie director I've got the formula now!
Charlie Chaplin, purportedly, refused to be connected with the Sullivan's Travels project and it can be guessed at...for good reason. Chaplin's films could make you laugh and cry, they convey humanity and compassion. In this film, Sturges makes you cringe.