Blogging By Cinema-light: Don't Make a Scene: Mr. Smith Goes to Washington

I had a little private debate whether...for this Fourth of July...we went with something safe...or something not so safe.

Trying to be optimistic, we'll go "Safe Mode."

The Story: Every American birthday puts me in mind of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, written and produced in 1939, but feeling like it could have been written yesterday—for the sad fact that political gamesmanship and hood-winkery has never gone out of favor among the Washington Public Servants who act like Lords of the Manor. Surprisingly, it hasn't gone out of favor with the Electorate, either, even though they should know better. Elections are for voting such charlatans out...but they rarely are. And now, "Winning" as a pre-occupation seems to have spread like a pandemic, jumping from those in power to those who don't have any. Seems being thought of as a loser is worse than having a corrupt government.

And it's always amusing to see who embraces Mr. Smith... when they embrace everything it stands against. The filibuster scene has been appropriated by all sorts of Bad Actors, who see it more as grabbing the spotlight than doing any good. And with the rules being as they are, the filibuster is merely a threat of delaying procedure, rather than actually standing up and taking a stand for hours at a time—too many Congress-people couldn't endure it or couldn't be bothered (besides, it would interrupt their Party-mandated hours for robo-calling for donations).

What I love about the movie is that it embraces the philosophy of creating "a more perfect Union" acknowledging that there are flaws while also reminding of what's right. It's not a MAGA movie. It says America is a great country while saying it could be better, rather than resting on laurels and marching backwards. When it came out, it pissed a lot of people off...Washington D.C. people, mostly, who objected to being portrayed as a bunch of crooks. Joseph Kennedy wanted it banned from playing in Europe, and taking his cue, it was banned in Germany, Italy, and Spain...at the time all run by fascists. When Germany occupied France in 1942, they banned American movies, but French cinemas chose to show Mr. Smith as the last film before the ban went into effect. One cinema showed it non-stop for 30 days.

Because it's flag-waving...and realistic. It doesn't have blinders on. It has hope, but isn't stupid about it. It sees the ruts in the road to that "more perfect Union"—ruts that will take it off-course, or lure with well-traveled complacency. They should always be seen so that course-corrections can be made on our way to being the Shining Beacon on the Hill. It's not unpatriotic to want to make it better. And it's un-American not to.

So, by the light of the Capitol Dome, Jefferson Smith plans out his little bill, not knowing that he'll be going up against Big Business and Big Politics and their unholy way of greasing each other's hands, and their desire to keep things the way they are—easy, manipulatable, and corrupt. The way things have always been done. Why change?

The Set-Up: Jefferson Smith (James Stewart) has been appointed to the Senator by the Governor, when the political-hack of a junior Senator already there had the temerity to up and die. Rigor mortis was probably the most spine he'd showed in his term. Political Boss Jim Taylor (Edward Arnold) has another lackey lined up to take the late Senator's place, but the Governor has been persuaded by his kids that Smith, a scoutmaster, would be perfect. Being decisive, the Governor relied on a coin toss and Smith goes to Washington. But, when he gets there the reception is cynically chilly by the Senate and especially the Press, and Smith is determined to get a pet project approved before the next election...when he'll probably be voted out. Undeterred by the convoluted Ways and Means a bill must navigate through Congress, he is determined to write the bill...with the much-needed help of "Saunders" (Jean Arthur), a multi-year veteran of Washington politics, aiding Smith and Senior Senator Paine (Claude Rains).

Action.

The scene dissolves to JEFF'S PRIVATE OFFICE at night, revealing SAUNDERS AND JEFFERSON. Saunders is against one end of the desk with papers before her; Jefferson, his coat off, is walking in circles--in the throes of creating his bill. (Dinner trays, with empty dinner dishes on them, are in evidence.)

JEFFERSON: (in a brown study) --that's the main idea, Miss Saunders. The United States Government isn't going to buy or build this camp-- just lend us the money. You've made a note of that, huh?

SAUNDERS: Yes, Senator--*twice*.

JEFFERSON: (walking circles) Uh--have you? (Running his hand through his hair) Doggone it, Saunders...Did you ever have so much to say about something--you couldn't say it?

SAUNDERS: (dryly) Try sitting down.

JEFFERSON: I did--and--and I got right up again.

SAUNDERS: Now, let's get down to particulars. How big is this thing? Where is it to be? How many boys will it take care of? If they're going to buy it-- how do they make their contributions?

SAUNDERS: Your Bill has to have all that in it--

JEFFERSON: Yeah. Yeah.

JEFFERSON: And something else, too, Miss Saunders-- the spirit of it--the idea--the--

In his walk, he has come to the window. He points out suddenly.

JEFFERSON: There!

JEFFERSON: That's what's got to be in it.

She looks in that direction, and sees the lighted CAPITOL DOME, as seen through the window--with JEFFERSON in the foreground.

JEFFERSON: (pointing) That. The Capitol Dome.

SAUNDERS indicates that she sees the Dome, her eyebrows lifting a little.

SAUNDERS: (quietly--with only a touch of sarcasm) On paper?

JEFFERSON: (still looking out of the window, not conscious of her cynical question) I want to make that come to life-- yes, and lighted up like that, too-- for every boy in the land.

JEFFERSON: Boys forget what their country means--

JEFFERSON: --just reading "land of the free" in history books.

JEFFERSON: And they get to be men--and forget even more.

JEFFERSON: Liberty is too precious to get buried in books, Miss Saunders.

JEFFERSON: Men ought to hold it up in front of them--every day of their lives and say: "I am free--

JEFFERSON: --to think--to speak. My ancestors couldn't. I can. My children will."

And we see SAUNDERS looking at Jefferson with a new expression-- listening rather raptly--then starting to make rapid notes.

JEFFERSON'S VOICE The boys ought to grow up *remembering* that.

He breaks off--turns from the window--collecting himself out of a daze--and a little embarrassed.

JEFFERSON: Well--gosh--that--that isn't "particulars," is it?

SAUNDERS: But you've just taken care of the spirit all right.

JEFFERSON: Well, anyway, it's *something* like that-- (Then--impulsively) And it *is* important. That--that Steering Committee has *got* to see it that way.

JEFFERSON: And I'm sure Senator Paine will do all he can-- (Breaking off) He's a fine man, Miss Saunders, isn't he?

JEFFERSON: He knew my father, you know.

SAUNDERS: He did?

JEFFERSON: Yeah.

JEFFERSON: Yeah. We need a lot like him--his kind of character--ideals.

SAUNDERS: (dropping her head to the paper) Uh--getting back to this, Senator--

JEFFERSON: Yes, yes--

SAUNDERS: Now, this camp is going to be out in your state, of course-

JEFFERSON: (with enthusiasm) About two hundred of the most beautiful acres that ever were! Mountains, prairie land, trees, streams! A paradise for boys who live in stuffy cities-- (Breaking off)

JEFFERSON: You don't know that country out there, do you, Miss Saunders?

SAUNDERS: No.

JEFFERSON: I've been over every foot of it. You couldn't have any idea. You'd have to see for yourself-- (gazing off, enraptured) --the prairies--the wind leaning on the tall grass--

SAUNDERS is seen again, raptly watching him.

JEFFERSON'S VOICE --lazy streams down in the meadows-- and angry little midgets of water up in the mountains-- (again seen, together with SAUNDERS) --cattle moving down a slope against the sun--camp-fires--

JEFFERSON: --snowdrifts... (Breaking off) Everybody ought to have *some* of that--*some* time in his life.

JEFFERSON: My father taught me to see those things. He grew up with our state--an' he used to say to me, "Son, don't miss the wonders that surround you.

JEFFERSON: Every tree, every sunset, every ant-hill and star is filled with the wonders of nature."

JEFFERSON: He used to say, "Haven't you ever noticed how grateful you are to see daylight again after going through a dark tunnel?"

JEFFERSON: "Well," he'd say, "open your eyes and always see life around you as if you'd just come out of a long tunnel." (Then)

JEFFERSON: Where did *you* come from. Miss Saunders?

SAUNDERS: (quietly) Well--I guess I've been in that tunnel all my life.

JEFFERSON: You mean--here?

SAUNDERS: Baltimore. Pure city-dweller.

JEFFERSON: But you've had beautiful country all around you. You've just had to life up your eyes!

SAUNDERS: City-dwellers never do that--for fear of what might drop *in* 'em.

JEFFERSON: (observing her a second) Have you always had to--work?

SAUNDERS: Since sixteen or so.

JEFFERSON: Sixteen. So,I take it your--your parents couldn't-- uh--

SAUNDERS: No, they couldn't. Father was a doctor. The kind who placed ethics above collections. That speaks well for Father but it always left us kind of--

SAUNDERS: (Then) Now, look. Could we get on with this, Senator?

JEFFERSON: It hasn't been easy, has it?

SAUNDERS: No complaints.

JEFFERSON: But--I mean--for a woman--And--you've done awfully well--

SAUNDERS: Have I?

JEFFERSON: I never met anyone more--more intelligent--or capable.

JEFFERSON: Gosh. I--I don't know where I'd be on this bill of mine without your help--

SAUNDERS: I don't see where we are *with* it.

JEFFERSON: (jumping) Oh! Yeah! No! Gosh!

JEFFERSON: I better get moving here, Miss Saunders--

JEFFERSON: Alright. Let's see...

JEFFERSON: (Suddenly) Everybody else calls you just plain "Saunders." Why can't I?

SAUNDERS: Go right ahead.

JEFFERSON: Saunders. Saunders...

JEFFERSON: That's better. (Practicing) Good morning, Saunders. Hello, Saunders.

JEFFERSON: How's the bill coming, Saunders--?

SAUNDERS: (permitting herself a laugh) Terrible, thank you.

JEFFERSON: Yeah. Yeah. Well, anyway, we've got "Saunders" settled. Maybe that was my trouble all along.(Rubbing his hands) YEs, *sir*. I'm all ready to go now--

JEFFERSON: (Then--suddenly) What's your *first* name?