M-G-M MEETS L. FRANK BAUM! Part Two

[Above: “If this be Technicolor, make the most of it!”  Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer must have had that enthusiasm in mind when establishing the “Munchkin City” for THE WIZARD OF OZ. The visual beauty manifested here created a thrill-inducing transition way back in 1939, when the movie itself switched over from the sepia of Kansas to the literal pastels of a somewhere “over the rainbow.” Curiously, the jolt for audiences of decades ago is being somewhat duplicated for unwitting newcomers to the film today. The latter are invariably delighted by the bright and glowing panorama of Oz – so different from the muted and often dark “colors” of many current motion pictures.]

---------------------------------

Note: This is the second 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 that 1939 motion picture with author L. Frank Baum’s original story of THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ book, first published in 1900. This entry discusses Dorothy Gale’s arrival and adventures in Munchkinland: what was left in, what was crossed out, and what was added to!  😊

The voiceover narrator for the ROCKY & BULLWINKLE TV serials of the 1960s often used the same phrase when introducing the opening and closing cartoon segments of that program: “Last time, you’ll remember . . . .” Well, “last time,” we left both the Baum/Dorothy and Toto AND the MGM/Dorothy and Toto in midair when the Kansas farmhouse was swept up by a passing tornado. According to the original book, the little girl at first sat carefully on the floor, holding her dog. “But as the hours passed and nothing terrible happened, she stopped worrying . . . crawled over the swaying floor to her bed” and “soon closed her eyes and fell fast asleep” (even as the house continued to be propelled along through the skies). MGM’s film showed Dorothy/Judy Garland on her bed, too, but -- as noted in last month’s blog -- she’d been knocked unconscious when her bedroom window was blown in by the winds of the storm.

In the movie, however, Dorothy awakens mid-flight and views an extraordinary array of fanciful, charming “fellow travelers” just beyond her casement. They momentarily lighten what might otherwise have been too long a segment of angst for young audiences, given the fact that the film has just graphically depicted the house soaring aloft with the girl and her pet inside. Dorothy-on-film comes out of her stunned state when a rooster crows, as there’s a chicken coop wafting by the window. The girl is then treated to such sights as a passing, mooing cow; an airborne elderly woman in a comfortable rocking chair; and two gentlemen poised in a flying rowboat. (The old lady waves; the rowers graciously greet the girl as well.) The next image to hove into view, however, is the dreaded Almira Gulch, furiously pedaling away against the wind on her bike. At that moment, the orchestral underscoring swiftly slips from whimsical to threatening, and the music cue reprises the theme -- “Miss Gul[t]ch: The Ultimate Witch” -- that accompanied her preceding appearance on the Kansas plain. It's a speedy slide into MGM’s psychological revision of Baum’s plot, for Almira suddenly evolves into a shrieking, wicked crone on a broom, and Dorothy buries her head in her bedclothes in terror. (Both views of Margaret Hamilton-through-the-window are shown here:)

The OZ book and movie then treat Dorothy’s “landing” in much the same manner. Baum opens his chapter two by writing that the sleeping child “was awakened by a shock so sudden and severe, that if [she] had not been lying on the soft bed, she might have been hurt. As it was, the jar made her catch her breath.” The little girl next and quickly notes there is “bright sunshine” coming in “at the window, flooding the little room.” So, “with Toto at her heels,” she runs and opens the door. (Meanwhile, Judy remains awake on her bed as the farmhouse tumbles down, but its landing is equally rattling; upon impact, she gasps out a truncated, “Oh!”)

In a few paragraphs, we’ll return to the MGM treatment of Dot’s arrival and their presentation of what awaited her beyond the farmhouse. Yet it was, of course, THE WIZARD OF OZ book that inspired the film company in the first place, and this is how Frank Baum describes the vista that inspires “a cry of amazement” from his Dorothy. He selects words that contrast this new realm with the overwhelmingly barren portrayal of Kansas in his previous chapter, and Dorothy’s eyes grow “bigger and bigger at the wonderful sights” she sees. It’s “a country of marvelous beauty . . . with stately trees bearing rich and luscious fruits. Banks of gorgeous flowers [are] on every hand,” as are singing birds “with rare and brilliant plumage . . .. A little way off [is] a small brook . . . between green banks and murmuring in a voice very grateful to a little girl who had lived so long on the dry gray prairies.”

The author doesn’t give her much time to drink in the scenery, however, for the youngster is immediately approached by “a group of the queerest people she had ever seen.” They are the same size as Dorothy – “a well-grown child for her age” – but “so far as looks go, many years older. Three are men (dressed all in blue), and one a woman (dressed all in white):

Thus, Baum introduces the Good Witch of the North, although accompanied here by only three Munchkins rather than the six score summoned up some 38 years later by Metro. Despite this characterizational economy, the foursome fulfills the precise function an Oz fan might expect. The Good Witch -- Baum gives her no name -- is the primary spokesperson, instantly defining Dorothy in greeting as a “most noble sorceress.” The Witch welcomes her to the country of the Munchkins, and expresses gratitude to the child “for having killed the Wicked Witch of the East and for setting our people free from bondage.”

Dorothy is, of course, mystified, until the Good Witch points out that “just under the corner of the great beam the [farm]house rested on, two feet were sticking out, shod in silver shoes with pointed toes.”

Although the child is nonplussed and concerned, the Good Witch relieves her dismay: “The Wicked Witch . . . has held all the Munchkins in bondage for many years, making them slave for her night and day.” She explains to Dorothy that there now remain two extant witches in Oz besides herself: the Wicked Witch of the West and the Good Witch of the South. She adds that the country also boasts a “Great Wizard . . .more powerful than all the rest of us together. He lives in the City of Emeralds.”

The three Munchkins closely listen to these explanations, but now one suddenly gives “a loud shout” and points to the silver shoes. The Good Witch laughs, as the feet of the Wicked Witch have “disappeared entirely and nothing was left but” her footwear. “She was so old,” is the proffered rationalization, “that she dried up quickly in the sun.” The Good Witch then presents the shoes to Dorothy, and one of the Munchkins offers, “There is some charm connected with [those shoes], but what it is, we never knew.”

Dorothy next confesses that she’s eager “to get back to my Aunt and Uncle, for I’m sure they will worry about me”; in turn, the three men and the Good Witch explain that all four sides of the Land of Oz are surrounded by “a great desert,” and that there’s no feasible means of crossing it. The Witch consolingly offers, “I’m afraid, my dear, you will have to live with us,” and the little girl begins to sob at such news – an honest outpouring in which the “kind-hearted” Munchkins join her. Spurred by such emotion, the Witch considers the situation, and readers who’d been pondering the glorious OZ book pictures by W[illiam] W[allace] Denslow might then have wondered if the “N”-tipped staff -- or wand? – she has been brandishing is about to be put into play. (It needs to be noted that all the original THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ artwork included in this blog comes from the extraordinary pen of “Den,” as he was nicknamed. He both illustrated and designed the glorious first edition of the OZ book, and the portrait just below of the Good Witch of the North was crafted for its dedication page. The latter offered Baum’s homage to Maud Gage, his wife.)

Instead of her staff, however, the Good Witch takes off her conical hat and balances it on the tip of her nose. “It changed to a slate, on which was written in big, white chalk marks: ‘LET DOROTHY GO TO THE CITY OF EMERALDS’.” This magical directive is all that the woman requires, and she organizes Dorothy’s departure, referencing the Yellow Brick Road as the proper route. The girl’s major question about the Wizard (“Is he a good man?”) is only somewhat satisfactorily answered, given the mystery with which he surrounds himself. “He is a good Wizard,” says the Good Witch. “Whether he is a man or not, I cannot tell, for I have never seen him.”

The Good Witch also cautions Dorothy that her journey will be long -- “through a country that is sometimes pleasant and sometimes dark and terrible” – but promises “to use all the magic arts I know of to keep you from harm.” She is unable to comply with Dorothy’s plea that she accompany the child, but adds, “I will give you my kiss, and no one will dare injure a person who has been kissed by the Witch of the North.” She brushes her lips against the girl’s forehead, gives her “a friendly little nod,” whirls around three times on her left heel, and disappears. Toto barks loudly at this (having “been afraid to even growl while she stood by. But Dorothy” – Baum’s already bright, courageous, and resourceful heroine – “had expected her to disappear in just that way and was not surprised in the least.”

The Munchkins -- bowing low and wishing the girl a pleasant trek – depart as well, so in short order, the youngster goes back into the house to get ready for the trip. She changes into her best (and only other) dress, this one of blue-and-white checked gingham. She lunches on bread and butter; goes back outside for fruit and a drink from the brook; packs a basket of bread to carry with her; and finds that the Wicked Witch’s silver shoes perfectly fit her.

Then, with Toto at her side, Dorothy finds the road paved with Yellow Brick, and they begin an excursion that is initially vastly pleasant. The Munchkin Country of this region is pretty and well-tended, with tidy farms and prosperous-looking fields of grain and vegetables. Word about her having (however accidentally) dispatched the Wicked Witch has quickly spread, and the child is acknowledged with honor by those citizens who see her pass. They’re one and all garbed in blue, and their homes, fences, and all are painted the same color -- blue being the favored hue of the residents.

As evening approaches, Dorothy is welcomed off the road to a large, celebratory gathering of Munchkins – gathered at the home and on the grounds of the well-to-do Boq. (WICKED fans may recognize that appellation, although there’s no connection beyond the name.) He waits on Dorothy himself; there is delicious food aplenty, and she heartily enjoys the laughing, singing, and dancing of the happy citizenry. Among the musicians are what appears to be an Ozzy bouzouki player, as well as five little fiddlers; the former can be seen in the first picture below, and one of the latter is visible in both the second picture and the color plate. (The second image is taken from Denslow’s opening art for chapter three of the original OZ book; in addition to drawing the picture, he hand-lettered the first word of the text, as well:)

Boq gives Dorothy a place to sleep and a fine breakfast before sending her on her way the next morning. Even he offers, however, that the coming journey will “take you many days” and be alternately “rich and pleasant” and “rough and dangerous.” This naturally worries the girl -- but (per Baum) only “a little” -- and she matter-of-factly and self-reliantly continues on to the Emerald City.

This, of course, is also most fortunate, for just a few miles ahead, some chance meetings will provide her with singular, remarkable, and life-long friends. 😊

--------------

And how did MGM handle all of this? It was an early-in-preproduction inspiration/decision that THE WIZARD OF OZ movie would have its Kansas sequences filmed in black-and-white (later to be processed in sepia), and that Technicolor would be saved for an almost instant reveal when Dorothy opened her farmhouse door to see the Land of Oz. That transition proved as dramatically effective as the studio hoped, and it remains a magical hallmark of the OZ motion picture – and, indeed, of Hollywood history.

Within seconds of any audience’s first glimpse out the doorway, MGM’s savvy adaptation continued to manifest itself. Technicolor was a comparatively new process in 1939 and had been employed in less than a dozen live-action feature films. Meanwhile (and although) a verdant and Ozzy pastoral landscape would have conveyed the loveliness of Baum’s empire, there would be plenty of such scenery elsewhere along the road to the Emerald City. Thus was born instead MGM’s mini-urban Munchkinland village, teeming with rustic appointments: thatched roofs atop the cottages, glorious plant life all around, hills in the background, and Baum’s brook immediately at hand. All of this was, to be sure, uber-colorful.

Additionally -- and rather than supplement the Good Witch with merely three inhabitants -- the major Metro minds summoned up the possibility of 300. They were forced to settle for the approximately 124 “little people” who were available, augmenting them with perhaps ten preteen student dancers from local Los Angeles academies. Finally, such a resultant gathering, setting, and important moment in the saga of Oz also made for the ideal setting for a musical production number.

It turned out to be a happy, lavish coalescence of Baum’s chapter two and the onset of chapter three. A wide range of colors and Adrian costume designs would be employed to electrify and dazzle the movie-going public. (The idea of all-blue -- the single-favored Munchkin tint -- was dismissed, if even considered; ditto the similarity of garb of one and all, as in Baum’s descriptions and Denslow’s art.) Dorothy could be heralded in song and dance – and she, the Good Witch of the North, and many different Munchkin representatives could kick across the plot in active performance. In the end, and via dialogue, characterization, costuming, music by Harold Arlen, and lyrics by E. Y. “Yip” Harburg, MGM effected a masterful conflation of Baum’s verbiage about the youngster’s arrival, her greeting and welcome, the miraculous deed done by her house, the gift of the ubiquitous shoes, the omnipresent Yellow Brick Road, the concept of an all-powerful Wizard, and Boq’s house party.

There were subtractions and additions, of course. The Deadly Desert was never mentioned; the silver shoes became ruby slippers (the better to Technicolor with, my dear . . .), and the Good Witch manifested no magical slate. She also became a considerably younger woman, as personated by Billie Burke -- then fifty-four but glamourized to a fare-thee-well. (A change that irks some Oz book fans to this day is that she was given the name Glinda – otherwise reserved in hoztory for Baum’s Good Witch of the South. Yet in that specific guise, Glinda never makes an appearance in the film, so the transference of her name was another breezy amalgamation on the part of MGM.)

Much as in the book, the mystical shoes were revealed by Glinda to Dorothy almost immediately upon her arrival. Their newly-ascribed, contrasting intensity manifests savoir-faire in the great MGM tradition – or as Debbie Reynolds put it 35 years later in the anthology film, THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT: “Do it big. Do it right. Give it class.” Additionally, the set pieces utilized for this moment in the film paid specific heed to Denslow’s picture from the book (as displayed several images above). The vintage style of the 1900 shoes, however, was dismissed along with their silvery sheen:

Given the scope of set, melodies, words, terpsichore, and population, Arlen and Harburg were able to create unforgettable musical moments for the sequence – even above and beyond the primary and stand-alone “Ding-Dong! the Witch is Dead” song. (Their “Munchkinland Sequence” was built on an original but abandoned multi-part medley written as a demo for the film by Metro musical mastermind Roger Edens.) The composer and lyricist reveled in manifesting patter sections for the residents – both en masse and individually. To specifically salute the achievement of the girl from Kansas, the Munchkin Mayor, the town council, and the Coroner all came into specific play:

Dorothy’s festivities were further expanded with personalized salutations from two civic organizations: The Lullaby League and The Lollipop Guild:

Finally, there’s no question that the overriding, major alteration to the book plot at this point in the movie is the addition of The Wicked Witch of the West. Her appearance and desperate desire for the ruby slippers – beginning here and continuing throughout the film’s storyline – is unique to MGM’s approach. (In Baum’s book, she doesn’t even appear until Chapter 12, and she’s dispatched by its conclusion.) Margaret Hamilton’s genius in performance needs no extolling here; it’s all in her expression:

Discounting the “planting” in Kansas of the multiple citizens Dorothy will re-meet in Oz, the Munchkinland sequence of THE WIZARD OF OZ perhaps offers the greatest enlargement of Baum’s text. Its expansive set, dozens (and dozens) of participants, color-altered shoes, name-changed Good Witch, and the surprise insertion of a Wicked Witch tally a good number of changes. Yet the key elements remain – and if OZ were to be a Technicolor movie musical extravaganza, it’s difficult to imagine a more effective melding of production, plot, characterization, and song-and-dance entertainment than is encompassed in this segment.

Why, MGM even included Boq’s five little fiddlers!

Next month, we’ll see how Hollywood – versus Baum – handled Dorothy’s first two primary encounters on her trip . . . with the addition of several new challenges along the way.

Many thanks for reading. 😊

Article by John Fricke