G | 1 h 56 min | Drama, Musical | 1954
The brass section is key to a big swing band. But guess which of those instruments is hardest to master? The trombone! Valves on other instruments (trumpet, saxophone, tuba, clarinet, flute, bassoon) allow musicians to use smaller muscles in their fingers, enabling finer control of note and pitch. The trombone’s slide, however, forces them to use more unwieldy muscles in shoulders, arms, wrists and elbows, making it tougher to control note and pitch.
American big band founder Glenn Miller, a trombone player, understood the patience, hard work, and resilience required to excel. So, his band was bigger than most big bands, military or not, before and during World War II. His military orchestra was hugely popular, cheering Allied troops when they needed it. After his time, public tastes swung away from swing bands. Then, this movie on Miller brought it all back, with a bang.
In 1920s Los Angeles, starved of money and musicians, Glenn Miller (James Stewart) dreams of leading his own band, while he ekes out a living playing the trombone. Friends, pianist Chummy MacGregor (Harry Morgan), and manager Don Haynes (Charles Drake) stick with Miller through his struggles.
Between back-to-back tours from Pennsylvania to Boston, Miller marries college sweetheart Helen (June Allyson). She pays a price, supporting Miller through his road trips in the 1930s and ‘40s; a miscarriage prevents her from conceiving again, but they soon adopt a baby boy and baby girl. She also secretly saves up money so he can strike out on his own, becoming a composer-arranger, instead of staying a player.
Eventually, Miller’s band succeeds as recording artists (topping charts, playing for Hollywood films) and as performers (for shows and concerts). Commissioned into the U.S. military, he picks up the baton again, spicing up otherwise humdrum marches with his bluesy rhythms, touring Europe to boost troop morale.
A James Stewart Masterclass
Director Anthony Mann foregrounds big bang performances, with lower key scenes. You see the grind before the glamor. You see an unsmiling Miller and Chummy leaving a hotel after a night of playing, music sheets and trombone in hand. You see musicians audition, while a sweeper cleans a near-empty hall before audience-chairs are laid out. You see bands brightening dance halls, party halls, recording studios, or Miller’s house; even Helen’s little trot down her staircase sounds like a drummer keeping time.Helen’s favorite song isn’t Miller’s, yet they remind each other of their happiest and hardest moments through playful references to musical compositions: “Pennsylvania 6-5000,” “Little Brown Jug,” “Moonlight Serenade,” “String of Pearls.”
Real-life brass legend Louis Armstrong cameos with other real-life musicians. Frances Langford, and The Modernaires perform alongside Miller’s band for Allied troops, who are huddled expectantly around idling bombers in a hangar.
Mann figured that music lovers wouldn’t care about the lack of plot intricacy or drama. So, he let Stewart’s screen magic shine. Stewart could play the piano, so he had enough musical sense to make Miller’s timing come alive. Initially, keen to learn trombone as well, he later agreed to be dubbed by musician Joe Yukl, because mastery would take too long.
In one scene, Miller steps out of his line in a military parade to liven up the band’s dull tune with his sparky rhythm. You see Miller’s apprehensive (and angry) commanding officer, afraid of embarrassing the general he’s hosting. You also see marching men. They’re grinning, striding in sync all right, but they might as well be dancing with pride and joy.
Miller’s early meeting with pawnshop owner W. Kranz (Sig Ruman) is a metaphor for commoditized music; musicians compelled to hawk their skills rather than be true to their music. Forget arrangements, says Kranz, why not stick with playing the trombone? Miller answers, “To me music is more than just one instrument. It’s a whole orchestra playing together. And the only way I can express myself is to work out an arrangement.” Untrained in music, Helen grasps this and Miller’s career is the better for it.
Through Miller’s fireside chats with Helen, Don, and Chummy, you realize that, although it’s Miller’s name that hogs the headlines, several people work behind-the-scenes to build success. After a trumpeter accidentally splits his lip the night before a big performance, watch how Miller stumbles upon what would later be called “The Miller Sound.” Watch also for quiet moments: Helen smiling away their disappointments, or Miller sitting silently at his piano through the night, painstakingly rewriting a composition.
