Lost? Here's Part One.
So. Bart and Mr. Z are locked up. Dr. T prances off to prepare for his grand concert, leaving the two of them under the watchful eye of the literally already napping Stroogo. Mr. Z complains about the stank in the dungeon, but luckily, he brought his bottle of AirFix!
So. Bart and Mr. Z are locked up. Dr. T prances off to prepare for his grand concert, leaving the two of them under the watchful eye of the literally already napping Stroogo. Mr. Z complains about the stank in the dungeon, but luckily, he brought his bottle of AirFix!
What is AirFix, you ask, and why have you not heard of it until now even though it’s literally the most important part of the plot?
That’s not rhetorical, I actually do not know. Two guesses: either it’s more dream logic, or it’s more context lost in editing. I’d put my money down on ‘dream logic’ for once, since I’ve seen nothing about AirFix in anything I’ve read of the original plot. I find it discouraging that this movie is so cut up that I can’t be sure on the difference between dream logic and the editing process.
‘AirFix - It Fixes Air’. I take it all back. These wonderful jerks knew exactly what they were doing.
‘AirFix - It Fixes Air’. I take it all back. These wonderful jerks knew exactly what they were doing.
It’s Febreeze, essentially. It pulls odours from the air. Bart gets a bright idea; if it can eliminate smells, why not sound? They start pulling random stuff out of their pockets to try to turn it into a MusicFix.
When they mix it all up, they get this:
And pour it into the bottle. But - gasp! - it doesn’t work! Thankfully, there’s a sleeping guard wearing a hearing aid not a foot from their very cell!
“It brings noises into his ear, why couldn’t it bring noises into our bottle?”
Now that; that right there is dream logic. No two ways about it. Speaking of dream logic, Mr. Zabladowski warns Bart that the MusicFix might be atomic. Trust me, there IS a reason this is mentioned. It’s not just because this was 1953, when everything was considered atomic in some way.
The guards come to bring Bart up to the piano, unwittingly placing a nuclear weapon at the foot of their beloved leader. My favourite part about this is they don’t bother to wake Stroogo up and he doesn’t hear them because his hearing aid’s out. Details!
The guards come to bring Bart up to the piano, unwittingly placing a nuclear weapon at the foot of their beloved leader. My favourite part about this is they don’t bother to wake Stroogo up and he doesn’t hear them because his hearing aid’s out. Details!
The 150 - I MEAN, 500 - boys have arrived for the opening concert and are being duly processed by the guards of the Terwilliker Institute.
Looks like someone hit the pickle juice a little hard last night.
I lied earlier. THIS is the single best housecoat I’ve ever seen. Dr. T makes a brief inspirational speech to all his gathered pupils from his bedroom window and swaggers off to get dressed.
And get dressed he does, mi amigos. Welcome to the Dressing Song, colloquially known as ‘Do-Mi-Do Duds'.
Clean up in Aisle MY PANTIES.
Okay, so. This song though. You guys? This song though. This song. You guys.
It’s not perfect. Let’s get that out of the way right now. There are flaws - but the good outweighs the bad. It is easily the best song in the entire movie, and I will go so far as to say that that includes the songs from the original cut. It’s Seussian, it’s catchy, it’s ebullient, and it’s been stuck in my head more often than not. It’s also one of the first Google suggestions when you type in ‘5000 Fingers Of Dr. T - ‘dressing song’ or ‘dress me’ are frequent appendages, so I know I'm not alone.
As with the Shlim Shlam, there’s a lot going on, and the visual element tends to distract from the music. It wasn’t until I made a point of trying to sing along to the soundtrack on my commute that I began to appreciate Hans Conried’s fabulous diction.
Turns out this is nothing new; I found plenty of people online vaunting Mr. Conried’s praises for tackling difficult linguistic feats during his career. And here I am, a musically illiterate schmuck who is unable to keep rhythm without deep, DEEP concentration, trying to keep up. It took me roughly six weeks to finally nail the Dressing Song. There’s very little repetition and the lyricist, since God never closes a window without locking the door and setting the house on fire, is Dr. Seuss. To sing this monstrosity with such enthusiasm while being manhandled by a chorus line is something to be admired.
A stylin’ and profilin’ Dr. T sashays down the stairs to conduct his grand concert.
"THIS! Is my day! Five THOUSAND little fingers, all playing together on my piano!"
I'm just now realizing that the creepiest part about this is Dr. T's insistence that the five thousand fingers be little ones.
"Every finger, obedient to the whim of me, the master! (heavy breathing) Every infinitesimal, microscopic piece of living TISS-ue of those five thousand little fingers cringing, and trembling, and grovellling before ME! Before ME!"
"Dr. Terwilliker, as I RAISE my BATON!"
And yet, when the boys begin to play - there is no sound! After a few false starts, Dr. T realizes that Bart is the one behind this, and I quote (and will continue to quote forever), 'idiotic cockeyed flum-dummery'. When the guards move forward to apprehend Bart, he threatens to blow the place to smithereens with his magically atomic weapon. Dr. T, having been abandoned by his guards and fearful of a holocaust, is left with no choice but to relent his baton and allow the boys to go free.
You've not seen 'professionalism' until you've watched a man allow himself to be dragged
down a flight of steps by a pack of ravening ten year old boys. That commitment tho.
down a flight of steps by a pack of ravening ten year old boys. That commitment tho.
It’s hard to describe this scene, it really is. At the very least it’s hard to do it justice in words. Speaking of atomic, Hans Conried detonates in a fiery mushroom cloud of just fucking wonderful acting. The sound design on the MusicFix effects are astonishingly bizarre. And then there’s Misery Boy.
I’ve not been able to find a good explanation for Misery Boy, which is my name for him. I’ve got no clue what his actual name might be, but I have a reasonable guess as to who he was: a relative of someone on set. Someone important by the looks of it.
Most of the boys at the piano are waaaaaaay in the background. And good thing, too. Take it away, IMDB:
"According to producer Stanley Kramer, the film's budget would only allow him to hire 150 boys for the piano sequence, instead of the 500 boys he intended to use. When he threatened them with dismissal after they misbehaved, many of them stood up and cheered."
Very few of the kids in this movie actually wanted to be. They’re kids; even I get it, and I don’t get kids. If I was ten years old and someone paid me peanuts to get shouted at by Hans Conried I’d probably hate it too. Some of these kids hated it more than others. Which brings us to Misery Boy.
As the name suggests, he’s miserable for this whole ending sequence. At one point he’s actually got tears running down his face. Based on the stories I’ve read about the filming of this sequence, that’s not surprising.
What’s surprising is that they cut to him at least a half-dozen times. Head-on. And you know what? Given that this is a scene where a tyrant is forcing children to touch his massive instrument, he should be fucking miserable. They all should be. I think that would be more appropriate, actually, if they all followed Misery Boy’s lead.
But they keep cutting to him after Dr. T has been deposed. During the celebratory scene where the boys are raising gleeful hell on the piano, Misery Boy is cut to twice. He's the focus of the frame. And he’s still crying.
Why keep that in? Why cut to him at all? Why is he front and centre at the piano? As the same brilliant person who explained grieving children to me pointed out: at the very least, have him be miserable at first, and happy once he gets to take his hands off Dr. T’s organ. And if he can’t handle that, then move him to the back.
The only explanation I can think of is that this kid was the son of someone important, who was hoping to give him some screen time. Which, okay, that happens in Hollywood. But when the kid turfs it, you cut it out of the movie, end of story. I don't care from whose loins he sprang, he's outta here.
Speaking of outta here, let's get it. We're almost done, I swear. The newly freed boys all join together for a chaotic rendition of Chopsticks, with Bart standing in as the conductor. As they bang out their cacophony on the piano, the MusicFix at Bart's feet begins to erupt! In fireworks! Which are definitely atomic! The boys start to run for their lives, but it's too late.
Speaking of outta here, let's get it. We're almost done, I swear. The newly freed boys all join together for a chaotic rendition of Chopsticks, with Bart standing in as the conductor. As they bang out their cacophony on the piano, the MusicFix at Bart's feet begins to erupt! In fireworks! Which are definitely atomic! The boys start to run for their lives, but it's too late.
And thus, in a fiery explosion, the beautiful debacle ends. Bart gets shaken awake at his mom’s piano by Mr. Z.
Gosh I dunno Mr. Z, maybe English lessons?
Bart and Mr. Z realize they have bandages on their hands from their blood oath. But…it was a dream…wasn’t it?
Mr. Z promises to take Bart fishing, for real this time, if he practices his piano. Then, the plumber gives Mom a ride into town. That’s not a metaphor, he literally does.
And Bart fucks off outside to play.
The End! Nothing is resolved. Sure, the dictator of dreamland has been deposed, but in real life he's still around. I had a vague memory of Dr. T not being so bad in the end, but it turns out that WAS just wishful thinking on my part.
Everything still sucks for this kid, except his mom started dating again. Or the plumber just gave her a ride into town, that could be it too. Bart still has to take his piano lessons and Mom's still gonna give him a hard time about it. The dreary little boy concert is still on the schedule somewhere.
Unless the implication is that Mom's going to lay off now that she has someone to frolic with in the pickle vineyards. All that energy was going towards piano lessons, perhaps?
Unless the implication is that Mom's going to lay off now that she has someone to frolic with in the pickle vineyards. All that energy was going towards piano lessons, perhaps?
