Just Imagine - Part II

Last post I wrote about the plot of 1930's Just Imagine. As wacky as the plot is, it isn't really even the most interesting aspect of the movie. 

Envisioning the future

Just Imagine begins with a a short meditation on changing times, as an introduction to the futuristic setting of the film. The voice-over exhorts us to recall the streets of 1880, compared with the hectic traffic of 1930. "If the past fifty years can make such a change, Just Imagine the New York of 1980!" 

The film's re-creation of 1880 is stately and idealized. Pedestrians amble in harmony with genteel horse-drawn coaches, and the streets are suspiciously free of dirt or manure. In contrast, part of the 1930 footage is taken from unstaged shots of a New York intersection. However, the filmmakers are framing the future along an exaggerated trajectory; by idealizing 1880, the leap to 1930 seems more extreme than it was, and the leap to 1980 is similarly outlandish. 

Part of the fun for a modern viewer is comparing the 1980 of Just Imagine with the 1980 that really was. It's easy to make fun of the vision of a future that has already come to pass. It's also tinged with a certain wistfulness about the things the future did not actually deliver -- like single-passenger hovercraft and adorable aviator caps.

I just looked up some real photos of New York in 1980. They were considerably grittier.

Oddly enough, Just Imagine's vision of the future consists almost entirely of white people. Although there may be one or two Asian scientists in the laboratory scene, Just Imagine doesn't bother much with anyone who isn't wealthy and white. Even the "ethnic" humor consists of gentle Swedish jokes aimed at El Brendel (who wasn't even really Swedish).

Metropolis echoes

I joked in my last post that Just Imagine was like Metropolis produced as a Ziegfeld revue, complete with comedy and musical numbers. In some ways, JI appears to be a response to Fritz Lang's picture, albeit in a particularly American vein. The future in Metropolis mirrors the brooding, bleak, and angsty mood of Weimar Germany. Just Imagine looks forward to a future that is essentially optimistic and light-hearted.  This future might subject citizens to stricter bureaucracy, but marvels such as video-telephones, highways in the air, and scientific miracles seem to make it all worthwhile.

Even the cityscape design is worth comparing between the two movies. Just Imagine is obviously inspired by Metropolis, but instead of Lang's claustrophobic grandeur, the streets in 1980 New York extend prismatically into the distance. 

Metropolis: bright lights, angst-city.

The walls are closing in on the citizens of Metropolis.

It looks like somebody actually hired a city planner in Just Imagine.

One more gif of those cute little airplanes.

Just imagine was nominated for an Academy Award for art direction, and no wonder. The sets and effects were beautifully designed.

Technology

Most of the gadgets in the movie exist as punchlines about the future taking the fun out of everything: food and booze that come in pill form, and babies available at the automat.

"Procreative sex is for chumps."

But the "future" (our present, that is) has delivered on at least a couple of items, even if they weren't available by the real 1980. Of course, the videophone in Just Imagine may have just been an excuse to catch D-6 in her skivvies, powdering her knees.

Actually, this is what we use Skype for, too.

Fashion

Most designers who speculate on the future of fashion tend to focus on novel fabrics and outlandish silhouettes. However, the real fashion trend of the 20th century was toward increasingly casual clothing. The designers of Just Imagine didn't anticipate the typical jeans or miniskirts of 1980 -- instead they developed the lapel-less double-breasted suit. 

"Lapels are for chumps."

Most of the women's fashion is comparable to that of 1930 -- everyday frocks and evening gowns. The notable examples are the zippered day dress that converts to something more suitable for evening, the nurses' uniforms that are slit up both sides of the skirt, and an evening gown that is modest in the front and daring in the back.

Really, this was just an excuse for D-6 to strip down to her underwear again.

This is not the most practical nurses uniform, but it does give us a chance to look at D-6's legs. Again.

That dress can't be comfortable to sit in.

Song and dance

Don't forget, this is a musical. After The Jazz Singer came out in late 1927, all the studios scrambled to add sound to their pictures. Musical numbers were a favorite feature, but directors were only just learning how to exploit sound and pictures at the same time. Audiences quickly grew tired of actors breaking into song out of nowhere, and musical numbers were often filmed as static shots with relatively little visual interest. Musicals were declared "dead" by critics and audiences within a couple of years, at least until Busby Berkley came along with his kaleidoscopic choreography and camera work.

This Screenland review reflects the musical-fatigue of 1930.

Just Imagine suffers from some of the same problems, especially with the love songs. J-21 sings something maudlin about wanting an "old-fashioned girl" while RT-42 imagines a spicier 1930 than J-21 sings about. Later on, the hero sings a dull love song to LN-18, the details of which I have entirely forgotten. Once J-21 gets to Mars, he imagines LN-18 reciting the lyrics of this same song back to him as he gazes at the earth through a telescope. I do recall wondering if her voice was so bad that she couldn't be trusted to sing, but I still can't remember the song itself.

The Maureen-in-the-Moon isn't allowed to sing.

The musical number I did enjoy was a strange little song called "Never Swat a Fly," performed by RT-34 and D-6. 

Never swat a fly
He may love another fly
He may sit with her and sigh
The way I do with you.

Marjorie White and Frank Albertson mug delightfully as they sing this thoroughly silly song. The film even includes a close-up of a fly couple, as the human couple mimics the courting ritual (until, presumably, the action becomes too explicit to re-enact). This song is crazy-cakes, and you should watch it yourselves.

There's also a very manly drinking song that pre-figures some of the Busby Berkley-style choreography that will soon become popular. 

El Brendel performs a vaudeville-style comic song, but we will not speak of it.  

The Mars sequences have one proper dance number, a sort of evil pseudo-pagan number, complete with a giant idol and lots of writhing. It's fun and an obvious plot to show off some chorines in skimpy costumes.

There's nothing like a big pagan musical number.

But the denizens of Mars have a dance-like quality, even without musical accompaniment.

Joyzelle plays a dual role as twin queens of Mars (Loo Loo and Boo Boo). Pre-code fans may remember her as the seductive dancing lesbian in The Sign of the Cross (1932). Joyzelle doesn't get a full dance number, but she is delightful to watch at all times, whether as the kind Loo Loo or wicked Boo Boo.

Queen Loo Loo shares her telescope like a good hostess.

 

Good Martian queens are friendly towards guests.

Evil Martian queens cackle maniacally.

Evil Queen Boo Boo doesn't care if you don't like her.

In Conclusion...

Just Imagine is hit or miss in terms of watchability, but it's also weird enough to be compelling  as a whole. It's visually striking at times, especially in the Mars sequences. Beyond the set design, supporting actors like Marjorie White and Joyzelle create most of the verve. 

It's one of those movies that pays off with selective re-watching, at least in my experience. Even El Brendel began to grow on me after a while. And that's saying something. 

"Come to my arms, my beamish boy!"

Just Imagine!