The Wizard of Oz has been a part of my life since the age of 2. I watched it, wide-eyed, with my parents and apparently (though I don't remember) wasn't scared of anything and was more interested in watching the pretty colors and hearing "Over the Rainbow." Two years later, when my grandmother showed me "Meet Me In St. Louis," I became a full-fledged Judy Garland fan and have never turned back. I regularly attend the Judy Garland Festival in Grand Rapids, MN (about 3 hours plane ride from my home), and at the age of 13 I won a trivia contest there and was interviewed for NPR. Yeah. It's pretty serious. Knowing that background, you can understand how "The Wizard of Oz" might be very important to me. Judy Garland's signature film (though we'll go into that later), and one that stayed with her right up until her very last concert, it has a place in the hearts and minds of everyone, whether they like it or not. It has had a place in our collective consciousness for 3 generations, and it showing no signs of stopping for the next, especially with the multi-annual showings on TBS that make it even more accessible for the younger generation. Its themes are timeless, and it has something for everyone, at every age.
I don't have to tell you the story, so I'll simply highlight some key scenes here, and discuss their significance to the story and to history. First, I'll start with the casting and general information about the actors and their roles in this movie: The Wicked Witch of the West was played by Margaret Hamilton, who in my opinion deserved to win Best Actress (or at least Best Supporting Actress) for this movie! A former housewife turned movie actress to support her family, she was well-loved and a sweet person by all accounts. To demonstrate the kind of person she was, it is sufficient to say that she later taught kindergarten and Sunday school. Can you imagine the Wicked Witch of the West teaching Sunday school? Another reason I think she should have gotten some kind of award for this role is the scene where she disappears after the famous line "I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog too!" For this scene, Hamilton was to step onto a hidden elevator, and be carried down under the scenery. During a rehearsal, when she stepped on the elevator door, there was an electrical malfunction and since Hamilton's makeup was copper-toned, she ended up with horrendous burns on her face and had to be taken out of the picture for a number of weeks. If that doesn't put you in the running for an Oscar, I don't know what does. The lovely Jack Haley was not the first choice for the Tin Man. The original choice (well…just read on) was Buddy Ebsen (who became a TV star later–Beverly Hillbillies, anyone?), who was all set to do the picture until the aluminum powder in his makeup got into his lungs and lay him up in the hospital, putting him out of the picture. Are you sensing a theme? Screw "Poltergeist," this film had a curse. They brought in Jack Haley to replace Ebsen, and the brilliant men in the makeup department decided to change aluminum powder to aluminum paste, thereby rendering Haley safe. Phew. He went on to give a wonderful performance, and when I was young, he was my favorite friend of Dorothy (in the original sense of the term). Ok, now here is a backstory, branching out from what I said earlier. Ray Bolger was ALSO not the original choice for his role. They originally had him slated to play the Tin Man, while BUDDY EBSEN was to be the Scarecrow. Then when Ray Bolger expressed preference for the Scarecrow role because of his idol, Fred Stone, having played the role on the stage, they acquiesced and he and Buddy switched roles. Then Buddy inhaled his aluminum dust and everything got turned around. Ray Bolger went on to do another film with Judy Garland, "The Harvey Girls," released in 1946 and also made an appearance on Judy's television series in 1963. Bert Lahr was a successful actor in vaudeville and on the stage, who had done a few minor stints in movies. He was chosen for this role early on in the film's planning stages, likely due to his lion-like looks and charm. His costume was composed of real lion fur and was said to weigh upwards of 50 pounds. Absolutely unimaginable under the hot MGM lights, and he was known to complain outwardly about how difficult it was for him. Nonetheless, he gives a magnificent and hilarious performance. Billie Burke, flitty theater actress who was beginning to make some success in movies, and who was at the time married to Florenz Ziegfeld, seemed the perfect choice for the gentle, slightly dotty Glinda, the Good Witch of the North. She had played very successfully opposite Jean Harlow in 1933′s "Dinner at Eight," and had made "Everybody Sing" with Judy Garland in 1938 (which, by the way, is one of my favorites). One of my favorite tidbits about the film is that during the scene where we see Dorothy start off on the Yellow Brick Road, Burke accidentally slams her wand into her crown and you can hear the clink. Listen for it just after Dorothy says "But how do I START for Emerald City?" Once you hear it, you wonder how you could have ever missed it. The Munchkins are credited in the film as "The Singer Midgets." A good portion of the munchkins were indeed performers with Leo Singer, a showman from Vienna who had a troupe of little people working in entertainment there. However, as Singer's troupe only comprised about 30 little people, MGM hired him to find more to put in the film. There are a grand total of 124 munchkins in the film, along with a few children. 7 of the original munchkins are still living today, and received a star on the Walk of Fame in 2007.
Some friends of mine and me at the Judy Garland Festival, with Jerry Maren (the Lollipop Kid munchkin) and his wife Elizabeth.