Going My Way

I knew before I ever saw a Frank Capra movie that he had the marketed cornered on schmaltz. That's not an insult or a criticism. His movies won Academy Awards like they came out of a vending machine. I've seen enough of them to understand the how's and why's. He imbued the characters of his movies with an earnestness and honesty. Tony Kirby in You Can't Take It With You wasn't opposed to his father's ruthless greed just because Capra wanted to make you go "awww", Kirby had a fundamental, principled disagreement with the idea. And when people have gone astray in their morality, they are not taught a lesson but shown a better way by bringing the realities of their misguided beliefs home. Making that kind of schmaltz is a high-wire act. It's easy in the wrong hands for that kind of sentimentality to curdle if it becomes overly exploitative, or wholly dependent on itself, or cynically thrown out there to be manipulative. Going My Way falls off the wire in a whole different way: by having nothing behind the schmaltz. It has all the earnestness of Capra, but none of the substance. Bing Crosby plays Father Chuck O'Malley, a priest transferred to a church that has been overseen by the same priest for 45 years. The church is five months behind on its mortgage payments, and O'Malley has been sent to help right the ship with some fresh younger eyes. Right away, this sets up would could be an interesting dynamic, a generational tug of war between two men of faith who both want the same outcome but differ on how to get there. And that is one of the subplots ... And so is a group of local ruffians who have been terrorizing the neighborhood with theft and hooliganism, whom O'Malley believes he can bring to heel by getting them to be a boys' choir ... And so are the travails of Carol, an 18 year old runaway who wants to become a singer ... And so is another generation-gap struggle between the head of the bank that holds the church's mortgage and his son, one being a merciless capitalist and the other more generous and perhaps not looking to follow in his father's footsteps ... And so is a friendship between O'Malley and a childhood friend who has become an international singer, and her attempts to help O'Malley get published as a songwriter. Going My Way doesn't have a singular narrative arc, either for itself or its characters. It has what feels like episodes of a syrupy, feel-good family dramedy TV show, scrambled and stitched together, jumping from subplot to subplot, bringing them up and tying a bow on them with little demonstrable conflict along the way. Going My Way explores the depths of its subplots like a child exploring a box of cereal for the toy at the bottom; with a goal-oriented quickness. It isn't just averse to exploring these characters or the themes, it isn't built to do so. The framework of Going My Way cannot support anything but the minimum-necessary acknowledgement. It seems to think that, by cramming half a dozen feel-good short stories into one movie, it can win over the hearts of its viewers on volume alone, like a clearance sale on sentiment. But sentimentality and schmaltz requires the audience to care about the characters, to sympathize with their struggle and want to see them end up ahead of the game at the end. That can't be achieved when the stories are trying to set a land-speed record. Going My Way isn't a terrible movie by any stretch. Its heart is within the same area code as the right place. All the acting is fine, and most of the singing (outside of the operatic Risë Stevens, who is terribly miscast here) is fine, even if it begins to feel a bit bloated on musical performances. Bing Crosby plays O'Malley effortlessly, Barry Fitzgerald's old Irish Father Fitzgibbon is a fun, cranky stereotype, and Jean Heather is a ball of sunshine whenever she's on screen. I wasn't bored or irritated by Going My Way, I could even see myself recommending it to people who enjoy Hallmark originals and reruns of Dr. Quinn, because they are the target audience here. They won't even notice the movie's structural flaws or lack of character depth. But I did, and that's where Going My Way loses its way for me. It's harmless and sweet, but weightless and forgettable. It's asking for Coca-Cola and getting store brand instead. It's asking your parents in the 80's for an NES but getting a Sega Master System. It could be a lot worse, but it could also be so much better.