Part Three - We Can't Stop Here, This Is Mound Country

   Lost? Here's Part One.

   Turns out, the real best place to start is with disclaimers.

   I tried my best to upload video where I thought it might help understanding. Turns out, the rules surrounding that are cryptic and contradictory, and the only entities around to explain said rules are unhelpful robots and recursive message boards. I have yet to speak to a person as to the whys, hows, or even the whats. It's going to seem strange to you that I posted certain videos and not others; I just want you to know it's strange to me, too.

   I feel like I mostly succeeded at getting my points across without video. It's less than ideal, but nothing is in this age of ignorant, vindictive copyright claims. Either way, claims or no, the true ideal is that you would seek this movie out on your own having been enticed by this essay, so I hope one day soon you get to see what I couldn't show you here.

   The videos that I were able to upload might have ads on them. That is not my doing. According to the robots, I'm allowed to keep them up as long as Sony (parent company of Columbia Pictures) is allowed to run ads on them. I thought that was fair enough. I just wanted it to be clear to you that I'm not making money off of them, or this essay for that matter.

   The final disclaimer, which is actually my fault, is that there are a lot of GIFs in this essay. I tried my best to keep them to a minimum and spread them out, but there are so many GIF-able moments in this movie it ended up being a struggle. If my lack of self-control causes your computer any slowdowns, I apologize. You can let me know if it's just too much at this email address, and I will do my best to fix it.

   Holy jeepers you guys, are you ready for this essay to start or what? I know I am.

   When one hits play, one is greeted by horrifying violin and cello squeals. They’re up and running before the Columbia Pictures logo fades in. Yes, fades IN. No time is wasted in making you uncomfortable. The music tapers off into something softer and more whimsical during the opening credits, though not for long, which tells you exactly what you’re in for.

   The credits, interestingly enough, run over this image:

I was right about the hellish nightmare void. What a...relief?

   A young boy who - spoilers - is Bart, appears from behind one of the sinister orbs with a...thing, on his head:

   This will make some sort of sense at some point in some way, sort of. I promise. Speaking of sense, Bart is then spotted by a man wearing a lamp, continuing the tradition of strange headgear:

The Royal Ascot is shaping up to be a doozy this year.

   Is this searchlight metaphorical? Anthropomorphized? Or is it simply stylized, and meant to be real? So many questions and I’m two minutes in.

   Bart is then pursued by similarly green-clad men wielding colourful nets, in the first of many nonsensical partially-musical routines.

   They catch him, but…it was all a dream! Thank goodness. Bart is shaken awake at his piano by:

   GAH! Here is your titular Dr. Terwilliker, say that five times fast. He gives Bart a stern talking-to about practice making perfect, in light of the grand concert featuring all his pupils being only a month away.

Hey, some people pay good money for that.

   
   He then storms off, presumably to harass more children.

   Once he’s alone, Bart begins to annihilate the fourth wall. They even have to audacity to close in on his face so he may better consume my life essence. I've watched this scene many a time now, and I'm not exaggerating when I say that his eyes do not move a millimetre.

This is a GIF.

   He complains about Dr. T, and talks about how much he loves his mom even though she forces him to take piano lessons. In Bart’s own words: “I try to be everything she wants me to be, particularly since my father died.” So chalk one up for my memory: Mom’s a widow!

   Alright, we’re going to have our first talk about butchery. You’re old enough now. This opening sequence, everything from Bart waking up to him staring into my soul, was a reshoot. Producer Stanley Kramer decided that adding this scene would improve the film, which it does not for several reasons. To quote IMDB once more:

   “The film's real-world opening sequence is a reshoot, which was directed by producer Stanley Kramer. As a result, young Tommy Rettig looks and sounds slightly different than in the rest of the film. The original version of the scene had a similar structure, but Dr. T. was not Bart's personal piano teacher, he was simply the author of a musical instruction book. In that version, Bart doodles on the picture of Dr. T on the front of the book, which then comes to life and pulls him into a dream world. Hans Conried was vehemently opposed to the new scene, feeling Kramer was robbing the story of some of its fantasy element by making Dr. T. a real-world character.”

   I think Mr. Conried was absolutely correct. You’ll see why this is in more detail as we go along. If you’re still there.

Hello?

   This is the only scene in which Bart breaks the fourth wall. There might have been something to it if that had been a recurring thing, but alas, it feels stunted and out of place, especially after a few watch-throughs. ESPECIALLY since Bart is spelling out the gist of the aforementioned family-friendly sentimentality in the simplest terms possible. Mom is a widow, he is sad, Dr. T is mean. There’s no reason for any of this to be explained out loud; show, don’t tell. Also don’t butcher your movie to the point where you have to have a child explain its themes.

   This opening scene is also the only one where Hans Conried is not turned up to 11. Or, more accurately, it’s the only one where he’s turned down from his default setting of 11. The way he felt about this scene really shows through, but bless his heart, he carried it out.

   From here, we continue on with shots that, for the most part, were in the original cut. Mom - played by the lovely, the talented, Ms. Mary Healy - comes in from the kitchen to further scold Bart about his piano discipline. This kid seriously cannot catch a break, not in this cut of the movie. Nothing says ‘fun for the whole family’ like back-to-back lectures on applying oneself.

   The phone rings, and Bart leaps up to get it; Mom tells him to sit the heck back down and practice his piano. I only mention this part because Tommy Rettig’s face is priceless. I usually can’t stand child actors but this kid does a fine job being both earnest and so done with grown ups.

   We then hear the sound of clanking pipes coming from the kitchen. Bart introduces us to Mr. Zabladowski, a square-jawed all-American plumber who’s eager to fix Mom’s sink. Played by the lovely, the talented, and the real-life husband of Mary Healy: Peter Lind Hayes.

   Side note: while Hans Conried may be the standout performance, these two are adorable together and for good reason. I didn’t realize they were a couple the first time I rewatched this film, yet it was clear to me they had great chemistry. 12 years of marriage will do that.

12 at the time this was filmed. Their grand total was 58. I’m not saying length equals
quality, but the way these two look at eachother, I’d bet they weren’t just
staying together for the sake of the kids.

   Bart explains in his childlike, tacked-on way that Mr. Zabladowski is his friend, which is sad if you think about it, sweet if you don’t. He also explains that Zabladowski considers Dr. T to be a charlatan, since Mr. Z himself ‘knows all about’ the piano. Once again: that’d be a fine premise if Dr. T was fictional. In our new subpar reality the guy just walked out the door. Presumably, the doctorate he holds is in music. I’m not saying that makes a good teacher but I don’t know if a plumber’s the best judge of that, as Mom says to Mr. Z quite plainly.

   If the ‘real world’ Dr. Terwilliker were a con artist, I feel that he could slap together a more profitable con than ‘piano teacher’. Even if he couldn’t, I have reason to doubt that he would dare to put on a grand concert with pupils to whom he has taught zilch. And why put so much effort into berating children? Just tell them they’re doing great, collect the cheques, and skip town.

   While we’re on the subject of collecting cheques and skipping town: I reiterate once more that this reshoot was a bad idea. If Dr. T did not exist, and there was no threat of an upcoming concert, and he wasn’t portrayed as being a stickler for the piano, Mr. Zabladowski might have a leg to stand on. As it is, he’s just being a troublemaker.

   But I digress.

   The important thing to take away from this scene is that Mr. Zabladowski, a fine example of mid-century manhood, is spending lots of time in the home of a widow and has bonded, for whatever loose definition of that word, with her son.

   What could possibly happen next. Hmmm. I wish there was a child around to explain.

   The scene closes out when Bart once more falls asleep at the piano. Let’s take a closer look at that. At the very start, Bart falls asleep after, by Dr. T’s count, five minutes of being left alone. Bart wakes up fully and completely for another five minutes, then passes out again directly into REM. This poor boy is not struggling with his piano lessons; he’s fighting narcolepsy.

   The Human Lamp and the Net Men were from a musical sequence much later on in the original cut of the film, which was meant to contain only one long dream. Reshuffling them in as their own dream at the beginning leaves us with this strange, disjointed tale of one boy’s battle with a sleep disorder.

   Come with me, and you'll be, in a world of pure I need an adult. Click here for Part Four.