Today, while questions of political leadership are
dominating our national conversation, Frank Capra’s 1941 Meet
John Doe has an unexpected resonance. Though the details of this Robert
Riskin comedy-drama are eccentric and even bizarre, the story has some relevant
things to say about ethics in the world of mass media.
Meet John Doe starts
out with the takeover of a popular urban newspaper by a tycoon (Edward Arnold)
looking to score political points. His goal for his paper is the sort of slash-and-burn
journalism practiced today by Rupert Murdoch and sons. Journalistic standards
be damned: what had been The Bulletin is
now to become “The New Bulletin – A Streamlined Paper for a Streamlined
Era.”
On the chopping block are most of the newsroom’s staff,
including feisty Ann Mitchell (Barbara Stanwyck). Furious at being canned and
then expected to cough up a final column, she invents a heart-tugging letter
from one John Doe, a jobless man who plans to jump to his death from the City Hall
tower on Christmas Eve in a protest against society’s failings. Yes—fake news
at its finest.
The outcry from the public leads Ann and her editor to
search out a John Doe stand-in, someone who can be manipulated into keeping readers
interested. Many out-of-work men apply, claiming to have written the letter.
But the nod goes to Gary Cooper’s John Willoughby, a former baseball player
with a wounded wing, He admits the
letter is not his, though he badly needs a job. Ultimately his brawny good
looks and his aw-shucks manner make him an appealing John Doe substitute. This
is yet another of Cooper’s great man-of-the-people performances, perhaps his finest.
(He was to win a Best Actor Oscar for another 1941 common-man role, that of the
heroic Sergeant York.)
Now that a fake John Doe is on the team, Ann feeds him
talking-points about how people need to be more neighborly to one another. Too
honest a guy to accept the subterfuge for long, he goes on the lam with
harmonica-playing buddy Walter Brennan, intending to leave John Doe far behind.
A stop at a rural diner, though, persuades him that his John Doe persona is
needed by the American public. In fact, everyday folks all over the US of A are
spontaneously founding John Doe Clubs as a way of increasing neighborliness in
local communities. Despite it all, he’s a hero.
This is when, of course, the nefarious newspaper publisher
comes in. Determined to take advantage of John Doe’s hold on the heart of the
common man, he launches a huge rally at which Cooper’s character is expected to
endorse him and his brand-new political party. His ultimate goal: the White
House. But his hope of populism-run-amok is foiled when Willoughby again
refuses to be a party to the deception. The publisher retaliates by spreading
the word that John Doe is a fake. Which leads to a thoroughly-humiliated Cooper
deciding to jump off the tower for real. As his suicide becomes imminent,
various forces align to save his life. Care to guess if there’s a happy ending?
Frank Capra has always been revered for his warm depictions
of American life. In this mid-career work (one of two films he directed for
Warner Bros. after leaving his home at Columbia Pictures), he showed his skill
with actors, including those in supporting roles. It’s strange, though, to see
a Hollywood film so obsessed with the notion of suicide. And Capra’s iconic
faith in common folk at times seems misplaced. Still, in this day and age,
seeing people stand up to bullies is a major treat.
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