There’s been a dearth of Yuletide material here at Big Hollywood this month, so as The Most Wonderful Day of the Year draws nigh, let’s spend some time saluting the five men whose voices echo most strongly through the Christmas chapters of the Great American songbook.

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5. Johnny Mathis (b. 1935)

A host of other crooners fought tooth and nail for this fifth slot — Dean Martin, Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, Andy Williams, Jim Reeves, Gene Autry, Nat King Cole — but Mathis wins the day via an impressive five Christmas-themed albums, the best of which are immeasurably improved by the melodic mastery of maestro Percy Faith (1908-1976), whose inventive yet unashamedly unambiguous orchestrations make him my favorite instrumental interpreter of Christmas tunes.

The only one of our Top 5 who is still alive, Mathis made his Xmas bones by singing what is, for my money, the single most beautiful rendition of “Ave Maria” ever recorded — a feat accomplished when he was just twenty-two. Fifty years on, no one has matched the infectious, jingling energy Mathis and Faith brought to “Sleigh Ride.” And despite a good showing by Andy Williams, I daresay he takes the prize for “It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” and “Winter Wonderland” as well. (more…)

Holiday Inn isn’t just one of the all-time great Christmas films, it’s also one of the all-time great movie musicals. With an astonishingly good score, even for Irving Berlin, and the perfect star combination of the affable Bing Crosby and perfectionist Fred Astaire, Holiday Inn conjures up the simplest of concepts to craft a compulsively watchable holiday delight.  

The plot sets up with head-whipping speed when Jim Hardy (Bing) breaks the bad news to his friend and partner Ted Hanover (Fred) that he’s breaking up their successful act so he can marry part three of their song and dance trio, Lila Dixon (a superbly caustic Virginia Dale). Jim’s plan is to whisk Lila away from the grind of the show-biz rat race and retire to Connecticut where life as a leisurely and lazy gentleman farmer awaits.

As he does with most everything in life, Jim takes the news rather well when Lila changes her mind. More in love with show business than any man, Lila announces that she’s fallen for Ted … and so with little more than a “Sorry, old man. No hard feelings,” Jim flicks his wrist, forgives them both, and heads off to the country where another harsh dose of reality awaits.

Using a very funny montage, veteran musical director Mark Sandrich (he directed five of the ten immortal Astaire-Rogers musicals) crushes every naive notion Jim had that farming’s anything other than damn hard work, which leaves the retired singer in quite the pickle: he owns a farm with an overdue mortgage, but he’s too lazy to work it.  (more…)

Some movies are just plain old comfort food and our returning to them again and again has little to do with any actual cinematic merit. Maybe there’s a simplicity of story that just makes for a great escape or maybe there’s a time machine quality that helps to transport us back for a couple of hours to when life seemed simpler. And with that I ask…

Who doesn’t remember watching White Christmas as a kid? Every year on some winter weekend afternoon on some local UHF channel you couldn’t help but stop and be dazzled by the big bright holiday colors and Bing Crosby’s warm comforting voice. Director Michael Curtiz’s sequel/remake to the wonderful Holiday Inn really is a kind of Christmas Porn and we should all be big enough to acknowledge that it just isn’t a very good movie.

I know, I know, it’s a classic, a perennial. But it’s also long, slow, talky and, well, sorry … kinda dull in spots. Long spots.

Then why do we love it, why do we hunker down annually and lose ourselves in the slow predictability of it all? Because when you’re feeling Christmassy, the sets, costumes, and oh-gawd-yes, the Vista-Vision, works the senses like mainlined eggnog. And of course, there’s Irving Berlin’s unforgettable score, the stunning Rosemary Clooney, the impossibly leggy Vera-Ellen, the energetic Danny Kaye, and the unique pleasure of watching the ease with which Crosby — Mr. Christmas himself — does everything.  (more…)