M-G-M MEETS L. FRANK BAUM! (Part Six)

by John Fricke

[Above: This is one of the startling and dazzling views of the Emerald City as seen by Judy Garland and Company in MGM’s THE WIZARD OF OZ (1939). It was actually an oversize and beautiful crayon drawing (now owned by the University of Southern California Library); the artist even put tiny pinpricks in his art, so that when a bright light was turned on behind the picture, it gave the appropriate magical effect of an enchanted, jeweled city -- shining in the Ozian sunlight.]

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Note: This is the sixth installment of our 2024-2025 blog series, celebrating the 85^th anniversary of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s classic 1939 film version of THE WIZARD OF OZ. Each month -- through next June, and sequence by sequence -- we’ll compare the content of the motion picture with author L. Frank Baum’s original story of THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ, first published in 1900. The entry presented here marks an auspicious occasion in the saga, as Dorothy Gale of Kansas – and her little dog, Toto – are just about to reach their intended destination: the glorious Emerald City, home of the Wizard of Oz himself. Accompanying them, of course, are the stalwart new friends they acquired on the Yellow Brick Road: the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman, and the Cowardly Lion. Their arrival and reception are majorly impressive in both Baum’s text and the motion picture adaptation, but the written and cinematic successes of these moments were achieved in different ways. Please keep reading, and just below, you’ll learn what MGM left in, crossed out, or added to Baum’s plot and characterizations! (Pictures from the motion picture herewith are recognizable; all the others are among those drawn by W. W. Denslow for the first edition of Baum’s book.)

The most obvious difference between the MGM and L. Frank Baum introductory approaches to the Emerald City – and the adventures therein – lay in the fact that Mr. Baum did it all with words. True, the W.W. Denslow illustrations in THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ book were extraordinarily helpful, but in the first two dozen or so pages of Emerald City-related history, there was room for only fifteen drawings. (Six are shown here; five more will appear with next month’s blog.) On the other hand, and in best Technicolor fashion, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer didn’t have to describe the wonders of Oz; they simply (and gorgeously) flung up on the silver screen as many glories as possible.

Again this month, we’ll first discuss Baum’s copy. When we left our beloved companions last time, they were noticing “a beautiful green glow in the sky just before them,” which certainly sets the scene. Truth be told, the soon-to-be “Royal Historian of Oz” was at his vocabulary best when the detailing encounters and scenery experienced by Dorothy when she first achieves the Emerald City. Baum’s descriptions of his fantasy capitol and citizens are unimprovable, and rather than paraphrase them, we’ve – where appropriate -- selected some of his own verbiage to accompany Denslow’s art and recount the adventure:

 “. . . It was afternoon before [Dorothy, Toto, the Scarecrow, Tin Woodman, and Lion] came to the great wall that surrounded the City. It was high and thick and of a bright green color. In front of them, and at the end of the road of yellow brick, was a big gate, all studded with emeralds that glittered so in the sun that even the painted eyes of the Scarecrow were dazzled by their brilliancy.”

“There was a bell beside the gate, and Dorothy pushed the button and heard a silvery tinkle sound within. Then the big gate swung slowly open, and they all passed through and found themselves in a high arched room, the walls of which glistened with countless emeralds. Before them stood a little man about the same size as the Munchkins. He was clothed all in green, from his head to his feet, and even his skin was of a greenish tint.”

Those who have read the first Oz book will remember that this gentleman – The Guardian of the Gate – was considerably nonplussed by the visitors’ request to see “the Great Oz.” After warning them, in effect, that the Wizard didn’t suffer fools gladly (or otherwise), the Guard agreed to “take them to his palace,” declaring that first they “must put on . . . spectacles.” His explanation for such a requirement is magical and exciting: “. . .  If you did not wear spectacles, the brightness and glory of the Emerald City would blind you. Even those who live in the City must wear spectacles night and day. They are all locked on . . . and I have the only key that will unlock them.”

With everybody’s spectacles in place, the Guardian “then opened another gate, and they all followed him through the portal into the streets of the Emerald City . . .. The streets were lined with beautiful houses all built of green marble and studded everywhere with sparkling emeralds. [The visitors] walked over a pavement of the same green marble, and where the blocks were joined together were rows of emeralds, set closely, and glittering in the brightness of the sun. The window panes were of green glass; even the sky above the City had a green tint, and the rays of the sun were green. There were many people — men, women, and children — walking about, and these were all dressed in green clothes and had greenish skins . . .. Many shops stood in the street, and Dorothy saw that everything in them was green. Green candy and green popcorn were offered for sale, as well as green shoes, green hats, and green clothes of all sorts. At one place, a man was selling green lemonade, and when the children bought it, Dorothy could see that they paid for it with green pennies . . .. The Guardian . . . led them through the streets until they came to a big building, exactly in the middle of the City, which was the Palace of Oz, the Great Wizard. There was a soldier before the door, dressed in a green uniform and wearing a long green beard.” (Denslow’s initial depiction of the soon-to-be-famous solider was drawn to provide a pictorial for the title page of chapter 11 of the first OZ book:)

The Guardian introduced them: “Here are strangers . . . and they demand to see the Great Oz.” In turn, the Soldier welcomed the newcomers: “Step inside . . . and I will carry your message to him.” The travelers then “passed through the Palace Gates and were led into a big room with a green carpet and lovely green furniture set with emeralds.” The Soldier encouraged, “Make yourselves comfortable while I go to the door of the Throne Room and tell Oz you are here.”

“They had to wait a long time before the soldier returned. When, at last, he came back, Dorothy asked: ‘Have you seen Oz?’” The Soldier admitted, “I have never seen him. But I spoke to him as he sat behind his screen and . . . [h]e said he will grant you an audience . . . but each one of you must enter his presence alone, and he will admit but one each day. Therefore, as you must remain in the Palace for several days, I will have you shown to rooms where you may rest in comfort after your journey.”

The company was gratified at such hospitality, and the Solider “blew upon a green whistle, and at once a young girl, dressed in a pretty green silk gown, entered the room. She had lovely green hair and green eyes, and she bowed low before Dorothy as she said, ‘Follow me and I will show you your room.’”

Baum then describes a dream chamber for the child: “It was the sweetest little room in the world, with a soft comfortable bed that had sheets of green silk and a green velvet counterpane. There was a tiny fountain in the middle of the room, that shot a spray of green perfume into the air, to fall back into a beautifully carved green marble basin. Beautiful green flowers stood in the windows, and there was a shelf with a row of little green books. When Dorothy had time to open these books, she found them full of queer green pictures that made her laugh, they were so funny. In a wardrobe were many green dresses, made of silk and satin and velvet; and all of them fitted Dorothy exactly.”

The maid went on to lead the other three companions “to rooms, and each one of them found himself lodged in a very pleasant part of the Palace.” Baum continues from there – keeping his Scarecrow, Tin Woodman, and Lion perfectly “in character” but explaining, with quiet humor, their reactions to such accommodation. (Blogger’s Note: I don’t mean to sound like a fan, but I enthusiastically propose that anyone interested enough to read here should also be reviewing Baum’s full text. Given space constraints, I can’t quote it all, and it is both wondrous fantasy and superlatively evocative writing about the discoveries he made in the Marvelous Land of Oz.😊)

“The next morning, after breakfast, the green maiden came to fetch Dorothy, and she dressed her in one of the prettiest gowns, made of green brocaded satin. Dorothy . . . tied a green ribbon around Toto’s neck, and they started for the Throne Room of the Great Oz.” Upon arrival, “many ladies and gentlemen of the court . . .  looked at [Dorothy] curiously, and one of them whispered: ‘Are you really going to look upon the face of Oz the Terrible?’ ‘Of course,’ answered the girl, ‘if he will see me.’” At that, she received further information from the Soldier With the Green Whiskers, who was kindly dancing attendance: “Oh, he will see you . . . although . . . at first he was angry and said I should send you back where you came from. [But] when I mentioned your silver shoes, he was very much interested . . . and he decided he would admit you to his presence.” At that moment, a bell rang “and the green girl said to Dorothy, ‘That is the signal. You must go into the Throne Room alone.’”

The little girl courageously went forward, which will come as no surprise to any Oz fan. Her meeting with the Wizard – along with the ensuing appointments of her friends (and the mystifying and alternate physical appearance of the Great Oz with each of them) – will be detailed here next month.

And how was all of this handled out at “the Dream Factory”? MGM ebulliently and entertainingly filled just a bit more than 11 minutes of screen time with some of the plot points made above – from the moment Judy & Friends left the Deadly Poppy Field until they were (simultaneously) summoned to face the Wizard they’d been seeking. The moviemakers also managed to lace those moments with such superlative diversions as three musical numbers – “Optimistic Voices,” “The Merry Old Land of Oz,” and “If I Were King of the Forest” – plus two more genuinely chilling appearances by the Wicked Witch of the West. In the same segments, Metro proffered the Hollywood versions of the Guardian of the Gate and bewhiskered Soldier, along with their own, new invention: “the Cabbie.” (Here’s another glimpse of the Emerald City matte painting – this time melded with the film footage of the actors when they first caught a glimpse of their journey’s end:)

Echoing Baum in his novel, our stellar film five-some must also ring a bell at the Emerald City entrance. Further -- and much as the Great Oz is impressed to hear about Dorothy’s silver shoes -- it’s the MGM Guardian whose awed reaction to the ruby slippers is of aid in the wayfarers’ access to the Ozian capital. (Frank Morgan, last seen as Professor Marvel, eventually busts his Guardian buttons after extending an initially disgruntled welcome:)

The opening city doors reveal a panoply of GREEN: floor, walls, décor, and garb. Instead of being walked through the Emerald City, however, the gang is immediately intercepted by another incarnation via Morgan, who segues into his third OZ characterization as the Cabbie – with a unique compatriot. The latter is an Ozzy to-the-max addition: “There’s only one of him, and he’s it!” – and The Horse of a Different Color then deservedly steals some screen time, courtesy purple, cherry, and yellow food coloring. (Or it might be gelatin powder -- depending on which back-story one endorses! – and all to the words and music of “The Merry Old Land of Oz.”)

To keep the cinematic story on the move, our friends don’t (as in the book) spend five nights in their own luxurious quarters at the Emerald City. Yet they are immediately and generously taken to a “little place where you can tidy up a bit”: the an-encompassing Wash & Brush-Up Co., where they’re respectively stuffed, buffed, fluffed, and puffed in what is musically scored as the “Renovation Sequence”:

This is an interlude of genuine jubilation for our triumphant team, the surrounding citizenry, and – one imagines – 85 years (and counting) of rewarded audiences of all ages. It even compensates for the fact that, a few minutes earlier, the Wicked Witch of the West had mounted her broom, leapt from a window, and soared through the airspace outside her Tower Room as she cackled, “To the Emerald City, as fast as lightning!” That unnerving image and soundtrack had jarred and unsettled moviegoers, but they’d been quickly lulled into the glories of the Emerald City. Once again, though, the blissful spell is quickly shattered: hoving and zooming into sight and sound, the harridan appears overhead and offers a dastardly warning to the panicked populace as she skywrites her demand: 

Terrified residents and our five visitors storm the heavy doors to the Wizard’s Palace, where his primary guard (another whiskered Morgan) attempts to keep order. When the Kansas girl breaks through the crowd and approaches, he – like the Guardian and Cabbie before him – is dismissive of her needs (and those of her friends) to commune with his employer: “Nobody can see the Great Oz; not nobody, not no-how!” But when informed that “She’s DOROTHY!”, there’s immediate reaction, and he quick-steps into a turn: “I’ll announce you at once!”

THE WIZARD OF OZ movie now pauses for a few minutes in its storytelling to (no pun intended) even up the score. In the presentation thus far, the Scarecrow is shown to be first on the screen, enjoying a delightful dialog with Dorothy, the privilege of introducing (and singing all 32 bars of) “If I Only Had a Brain,” and experiencing/“conquering” the apple tree gang. The Tin Man “enters” minutes later and is provided all 32 bars of “If I Only Had a Heart” AND a lengthy, special effects dance number. By the time the Lion makes his entrance, the triumvirate theme is perhaps becoming over-familiar, so he's cut down to a brief 16 bars and a group musical “tag.” Yet now – while waiting outside the throne room to see the Wizard -- Bert Lahr is given HIS showcase. Composer Harold Arlen and lyricist E. Y. Harburg earlier worked with the bravura entertainer on Broadway and are majestically aware of how and what to write for him. So, via outrageous wordplay and his own Lahr-esque hallmark of poking mountainous holes in the pomposity of classical opera and aria vocalists, he delivers (postures, declaims, throbs, wavers, gurgles, and ranges from bass “chest register” to soprano head-voice in) “If I Were King of the Forest.”

The only thing that prevents the Lahr genius from “stopping the show” is the deletion of the song’s brief final chorus from the final WIZARD OF OZ edit – and a swift onscreen “cut” to the return of the Soldier, who bellows to our friends: “GO AWAY!”

It’s a moment of heartbreak for all – especially Dorothy who has kept up her courage despite twister traveling, Munchkin acclimatization and acclamation, repeated WWW visitations, and near death in a flower bed. The girl finally breaks down, voicing ongoing concern for her Auntie Em. Yet it’s that honest emotion that literally and figuratively opens the palace door, as the Soldier unexpectedly eavesdrops and then joins her in sobbing; he confesses, “I had an Aunt Em myself once . . . .”

So, we’re once again to the same page and film frame with Baum and MGM: We’ve reached the Palace entrance, but what lies behind that door? Well, yes, of course – we all KNOW! 😊 But I hope to provide more fun next month as our movie party has a single en masse encounter . . . and Baum’s contingent must face four DIFFERENT Wizards of Oz.

My sincere appreciation for reading to one and all.

And may I offer a heartfelt wish as well for a blessed, healthy, and joy-OZ new year for all.

Article by John Fricke