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Entertaining American Independence

In 1970, movie mogul Jack L. Warner found the perfect project for his show business swan song. Having sold off the remaining shares of the Hollywood film studio bearing his name, Warner, now an independent producer, secured the screen rights for the Tony Award-winning stage musical 1776 for $1.25 million.

A musical drama about the signing of the Declaration of Independence, 1776 and the legendary Warner seemed an ideal Broadway-Hollywood match. During his 40-plus years as head of a major studio, Warner oversaw the successful screen adaptations of such period musicals as The Music Man (1962), Gypsy (1962), and My Fair Lady (1964). With 1776's creators and members of the original Broadway cast in tow, he teamed up with Columbia Pictures for this handsome, faithful screen version of the long-running Broadway hit.

Unfortunately, the film never found an audience. In the shadow of the Vietnam War, a patriotic musical celebrating our "founding fathers" seemed a victim of bad timing. Or perhaps it was simply too stagy and old-fashioned for 1972 filmgoers, who were no longer receptive to watching characters, let alone historical figures like John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, and Thomas Jefferson, burst into song. (By comparison, the film version of another period musical set in Nazi Berlin, Cabaret, in which all the songs are integrated into the narrative as stage performances, ranked #8 at the box office that same year.)

Thirty years later, Sony has released the director's cut of 1776 on DVD, which includes several additional scenes and a musical number that Warner removed just before its theatrical release. This version only confirms what many loyal fans of the genre believed all along: 1776 is an underrated film musical. Even though its style is outmoded compared to the more modern musical cum music video, Evita, and the postmodern pastiche Moulin Rouge, it still manages to hold up. The reasons are twofold: the touches of humor that permeate writer Peter Stone's screenplay (adapted from his stage book) and composer/lyricist Sherman Edward's score; and the story's relevance, particularly in our current political climate, as a timely reminder of the principles on which the United States was founded.

Simply put, 1776 recounts the events leading up to the signing of the Declaration of Independence. The story opens on 8 June 1776 -- a sweltering hot Philadelphia evening. The Continental Congress is tired of listening to the ramblings of John Adams (William Daniels), a delegate from Massachusetts who is once again demanding a vote be taken to declare America an independent nation free from British tyranny.

Adams' cause is supported by several of his fellow delegates, including Dr. Benjamin Franklin (Howard Da Silva) and 33-year-old Thomas Jefferson (Ken Howard) of Virginia. But they are in the minority, and must convince their vocal opponents to vote to break away from England and thus commit what Adams' political nemesis, John Dickinson (Donald Madden) of Pennsylvania, calls "treason" against their mother country and its sovereign, King George III. Adams and his supporters launch a campaign to win Congress over to their side, which culminates with the drafting of the Declaration by Jefferson and the intensive debate that preceded its ratification.

The founding of our country is serious business, yet composer/lyricist Sherman Edwards and librettist/screenwriter Stone successfully inject humor into the proceedings, particularly in the film's first half. The musical entertains as it teaches us about the birth of our nation. Fortunately, the film doesn't take itself or the three leaders of the independence movement -- Adams, Franklin, and Jefferson -- too seriously. The opening number ("Sit Down, John") establishes the outspoken, egotistical and self-righteous Adams as one of the most hated men in Congress (we are repeatedly told, even by Adams himself, that he's "obnoxious and disliked"). Franklin, as played by Da Silva, is an aging wit with a tendency to quote himself when he's not dozing off during afternoon debates. Jefferson, described as "Virginia's greatest lover," is more preoccupied with sex than America's independence, thus forcing Adams is to cure Jefferson's writer's block by sending for the Virginian's wife Martha (Blythe Danner).

For all three characters, the film's humor succeeds in humanizing these historical figures. More importantly, the film's comedy eases transitions into the musical numbers. In the tradition of modern stage musicals, the songs reveal something about the characters while also advancing the plot. The most rousing is "Here a Lee," in which the pompous Richard Henry Lee of Virginia (Ron Holgate, who repeats his Tony Award-winning stage role) offers a musical tribute to himself and his family name as he heads home on horseback to obtain his state legislature's official approval for independence. He later returns with the proclamation, which sparks the beginning of Congress' open debate on the issue.

The one song that appears on the DVD that was cut from the film is "Cool, Cool, Considerate Men." The song, sung by Dickinson and the conservative members of the Continental Congress (who oppose independence), celebrates the things that are really important in life -- money and property: "We have land, / Cash in hand, / Future planned, / Self-command... to the right, / Ever to the right, / Never to the left, / Ever to the right."

According to the voice-over commentary provided by Hunt and Stone, Warner was friendly with then President Richard Nixon, who apparently thought the song hit too close to home when the show was first performed for him in the White House during its Washington tryout. So, the producer ordered the scene cut from all prints and the footage and negative destroyed. Fortunately, an editor at Columbia Pictures (no doubt a staunch Democrat) ignored the order and stored the negative in an unmarked box. If Hunt's footnote is accurate, it's ironic that a film celebrating basic civil liberties would have been censored by the leader of the so-called free world.

With the exception of the occasional anecdote about the stage production, the rest of what Hunt and Stone have to say is less interesting. They both have a tendency to narrate, rather than comment, on what we are watching. The other added "extras" to this recent edition include some screen tests, including Daniels', and the film's original trailer (along with a few others for other unrelated Columbia productions).

Although we know how the story ends, it remains engaging, particularly as the present day equivalent of liberals and conservatives go head-to-head daily on television and in newspapers. In an era when the airwaves are littered with such blowhard liberal bashers as Rush Limbaugh, Bill O'Reilly, and Ann Coulter, it's nice to be reminded that this country was founded by liberals who extolled the same basic principles -- equality, justice, and liberty -- that those of us who still stand on the left of those "Cool, Considerate Men" are fighting to preserve today.