Blogging By Cinema-light: Don't Make a Scene: Meet John Doe

The Story: Here's an example of fake news with a "colonel" of truth.

Meet John Doe is, like a few other Frank Capra movies, so universal that it feels like it could have been made yesterday, not, as it was, made in 1940. We're still talking about "fake news" and the ethics of journalism, the plight of the homeless and destitute, the tendency for power to morph into authoritarianism, how "grassroots" movements can be corrupted once money (and power) is involved. And how a mass of people can be swayed when their "buttons" are pushed. And how that same mass of people, however well-intentioned, can be turned into an angry senseless mob.

Yup. Coulda been written yesterday.

And Meet John Doe is a bit clunky. Capra, in his autobiography, said he was never happy with the ending it has (five were ultimately filmed—the fifth being suggested at a preview), but it was the best choice at the time. And Capra was a bit nervous about it, leery about letting details of the story get out, lest it try to be suppressed by strong fascist voices braying throughout the country.

It's just a tad tentative, and could have used a bit of the brio indicated in this scene, where one of those "destitute" citizens prefers freedom to being caught in an economic prison.

After Watergate, conservative Senator Barry Goldwater was asked what steps could be taken to prevent anything like that from happening again, and his retort was brisk, ornery and cut to the chase: "Stop printing money!" A bit drastic. Probably impractical. But, it sure would solve "the problem." And get to the root of corruption. "Extreme," certainly. But, you know what Goldwater had to say about extremism.

I've thought about that answer a lot while contemplating the rocky time America has had in the past few years. And how the very tenuous experiment of democracy could fail ultimately in this country. And, in this instance, I have to agree with it.

The Set-Up: Journalist Ann Mitchell (Barbara Stanwyck) has crossed a line in one last defiant act before being fired. She posted a story that was entirely false about a man so dissatisfied with the state of affairs in the country that he vows to commit suicide on Christmas Eve. It combines news with opinion and it manages to garner attention...and save her job. Now, for the cover-up: she convinces her editor to find some poor down-and-out slob and promote him as the "John Doe" who wrote the letter to preserve their journalistic integrity (!!) and ride the public interest to better sales. They find their man in former baseball pitcher "Long John" Willoughby (Gary Cooper), who agrees to terms and is squirreled away in a luxury suite on the newspaper's dime. But, it doesn't sit well with Willoughby's traveling companion, "The Colonel" (Walter Brennan) who believes that if money doesn't corrupt, it will certainly make you less free. He explains.

Action!

BEANY Hey, Doc, look. Look, Doc.

BEANY Gimme that again, will yuh?

BEANY Who's gonna get him?

COLONEL The heelots!

BEANY Who are they?

TWO SHOT: The COLONEL finally levels off on BEANY.

COLONEL Listen, sucker, yuh ever been broke?

BEANY Sure. Mostly often.

COLONEL All right. You're walking along—not a nickel in your jeans—free as the wind—nobody bothers you—hundreds of people pass yuh by in every line of business—shoes, hats, automobiles, radio, furniture, everything. They're all nice, lovable people, and they let you alone.

COLONEL Is that right?

CLOSE-UP: Of BEANY—nodding his head, bewildered.

COLONEL'S VOICE Then you get hold of some dough, and what happens?

BEANY instinctively shakes his head.

TWO SHOT: The COLONEL takes on a sneering expression.

COLONEL All those nice, sweet, lovable people become heelots. A lotta heels.

COLONEL(mysterioso) They begin creeping up on you—trying to sell you something.

COLONEL They've got long claws and they get a strangle- hold on you—and you squirm—and duck and holler—and you try to push 'em away—

COLONEL but you haven't got a chance—they've got you! First thing you know, you own things. A car, for instance.

BEANY has been following him, eyes blinking, mouth open.

COLONEL Now your whole life is messed up with more stuff—license fees—and number plates—and gas and oil—and taxes and insurance—...

CLOSE SHOT: Of the LUGS at the door. One of them listens with a half-smile on his face. The other, more goofy, looks bewildered. He has been listening—and now, slowly rises, ears cocked, frightened by the harrowing tale.

CAMERA retreats before him—as he slowly walks nearer to BEANY and the COLONEL. Meantime, we continue to hear the COLONEL'S voice.

COLONEL'S VOICE ... and identification cards—and letters—