Come to the Stable (1949)

Describing Come to the Stable as a comedy doesn't quite convey the tone of this lighthearted, charming film about two nuns from a French convent traveling to the town of Bethlehem (the one in New England, mind you, not the famous one) on a mission to repay a debt to God by building a children's hospital. This thing is whimsical, with sensibilities more in line with a cartoon's than a straightforward comedy. Think a 40s take on Phineas and Ferb where the main characters are sisters instead of brothers, and where "sister" is an official designation.

The Phineas and Ferb comparison is more apt than you'd think. For one thing, the nuns aren't really given strong character arcs of their own, but instead serve as catalysts for other characters' arcs. To be clear, this isn't a flaw: contrary to what a distressingly large number of internet commentators (as well as an even more distressingly large number of Hollywood producers) have come to believe, not every main character needs to grow and change over the course of a story. A pair of comically unwavering heroines whose innocence, devotion, and stubborn goodness convinces others to come to their cause makes for a perfectly valid starting point.

This premise, I should add, isn't entirely fictional - elements of the story were based on the founding of the Abbey of Regina Laudis in Bethlehem, Connecticut, in 1947. Apparently the filmmakers didn't think an abbey would make for compelling cinema, so they changed the nuns' goal to establishing a children's hospital. The movie explains that Sister Margaret (Loretta Young) made a deal with God that if He'd help spare a hospital she was working at in France during the war, she'd return to her home country and build one there. So along with Sister Scholastica (Celeste Holm), she winds up in Bethlehem after seeing a religious painting on a postcard coupled with the titular "Come to the Stable" message. This brings them to the barn where the artist, Amelia Potts (Elsa Lanchester), works.

All three of the above characters are based on real people, and all three performances netted the actresses Oscar nominations. I was a little surprised to learn both facts after watching - the movie's tone feels like the stuff of Hollywood fantasy, so I certainly wasn't expecting this to be based on real events, however loosely. And while I enjoyed this quite a bit, the movie's charm comes from its playfulness - aside from one pointedly political moral late in the runtime, this doesn't set out to challenge its viewers. Granted, the Academy Awards were less biased against comedies in the '40s than today, but this still doesn't strike me as the kind of movie likely to rack up six nominations. Though perhaps the voters agreed - it didn't actually win a single one.

This does seem like a good place for the obligatory spoiler warning, seeing as this is one of those movies worth experiencing. I'm not all that worried about plot - knowing what happens isn't going to impact your experience - but I am planning to write about a joke or two better seen than read.

Back to the movie for a moment. When the nuns arrive in the snowy New England landscape, they find a Nativity scene in Potts's barn, as she's enlisted some neighbors to pose for a painting. I mention this to draw attention to the movie's reliance on holiday iconography (which extends to the title) in part to note a surprising deviation: this is explicitly not set around the holidays.

On one hand, it's a bizarre choice. The opening certainly leads the viewer to assume what they're seeing is occurring on Christmas Eve, as does the title. And aside for a detour to New York City, the snowy scenery sticks around for two-thirds of the runtime. But the movie establishes the Nativity was an artistic reference; the movie is mostly set in late winter/early spring.

I haven't been able to locate enough details about the founding of Regina Laudis to say whether this change was made to bring it closer to that timeline, but I'm skeptical that was the driving force. Enough other changes were clearly made to render shifting events by a couple months a moot point. Instead, I think they wanted the disconnect to play up the divide between the nuns' idyllic perspective and more mundane reality around them. To the nuns, finding a Nativity in the town of Bethlehem is yet another sign, and the simplistic (and frankly economic) reasons for this are inconsequential. The same goes for the date - this is a Christmas miracle to them, even if they're conveniently forgetting this isn't actually Christmas. The movie plays with the idea that their outlook and actions make the miracle real (though there's plenty of room left open if you want to read divine intervention into the premise).

For my purposes, this of course raises the question of whether this actually qualifies as a Christmas movie. I won't hesitate to answer with a resounding "yes." Sure, it fails some of our usual litmus tests, but the subtext - hell, the text - is fixated on the holiday, and the film makes sure you know it.

The last major character is Robert (Hugh Marlowe), a successful songwriter and landlord to Potts, whose opinion of the nuns shifts throughout the movie. When Potts initially allows them to stay as her houseguests, Robert is mostly bemused despite experiencing some inconvenience and annoyance due to their various activities and assumptions. Still, he lends them his jeep, a vehicle Margaret is familiar with, as she was taught to drive by American GIs in the war.

This is that recurring joke I alluded to earlier: whenever she's behind the wheel she drives like a bat out of hell, and it's an absolute delight to watch, particularly because Young plays it completely straight. She's weaving through traffic, barreling down snowy roads, screeching to a stop, and through it all acting as if it's completely normal. Along with this, there are a series of jokes built around the ways the nuns' antics test the patience of those around them, with the added complication almost no one is willing to outright challenge or deny them an even remotely reasonable request.

Though I should acknowledge that "naive innocence" isn't the only interpretation of what's going on under their veils. You could read at least some of their supposed misunderstandings as intentional manipulation. I don't really think that's what the movie was going for, but the film withholds enough to leave the matter ambiguous. Either way, sequences play like cartoon segments where stern, serious people butt up against the nun's optimism and eventually break. Potts is an early example: she's pressured into opening her home to the nuns (and eventually the rest of their order), something she clearly doesn't want to do, only to eventually transform into their most vocal advocate.

A New York businessman strongly implied to be involved with organized crime follows suit when the nuns ask him to donate the land they've selected for the hospital. He initially refuses but eventually relents to honor the memory of his son, who died in the war. This is easily the film's most emotionally resonant scene, and the shift from the comedic absurdity of nuns asking gangsters for help to exploring the character's loss and change of heart is effective.

Meanwhile, the local Bishop is introduced as a largely neutral figure. The movie seems to be approaching him with kid gloves, likely to avoid falling afoul of rules and guidelines dissuading films of the era from criticizing religious figures and institutions. The plot wants him as an antagonist, but the script stubbornly plays him as mostly wise. He becomes a bit of an obstacle later on, but even this never raises to the level it should. And besides, he's no more equipped to stop this than anyone else.

But it's Robert who ultimately poses the most opposition. He helps the nuns for most of the movie out of a combination of obligation, bemusement, and the assumption they can't actually raise the money to make any of this work. Once it becomes clear they have a chance of pulling it off, he decides he doesn't want a children's hospital across the street and attempts to thwart their acquisition of a building they need as a temporary location. When they fail to raise the money for a down payment, he buys the location out from under them.

He eventually has a change of heart, as well, and donates the building to their cause. Again, the resolution isn't as much fun as the preceding movie, but it's sweet enough I can't disparage it. In addition, it all ties into some pointed criticism of the "not in my backyard" mentality, which is a respectable theme. Like A Christmas Carol and It's a Wonderful Life, Come to the Stable is a meditation on our responsibility to our communities. Any religious content is in service to this idea, rather than cheap moralizing or any sort of proselytizing.

While we're on the subject of classic holiday films, elements of this are also reminiscent of the 1947 film, Miracle on 34th Street. Both movies leave supernatural elements ambiguous. We're never told that the nuns are actually acting on God's authority but are left to interpret this for ourselves. Instead, both movies' outcomes emerge from social responses to characters' development stemming from their interactions with the protagonists.

This also shares a similar tone with the better known holiday classic - I wouldn't be at all surprised if this were inspired by that film's success a few years earlier. This does differ in a couple key respects, however. First, while Miracle on 34th Street's premise was secular, this certainly invokes religion. Regardless of whether you read the story as divine interference, it's certainly endorsing faith. And unlike Miracle on 34th Street, this doesn't endorse capitalism. If you're someone who finds Miracle's implicit theme distasteful but would like a similar tonal experience, you might find it here. 

And speaking of Christmas classics, this is directed by Henry Koster, who's better known for making The Bishop's Wife (which also starred Loretta Young). Actually, he's even better known for directing Harvey, which... you've all seen Harvey, right? It's not a Christmas movie, but it's one of the funniest movies of the 1950s, so if it's somehow eluded you, make a point of tracking it down. Just fantastic.

Sorry. Where was I? Come to the Stable occupies an interesting middle ground in terms of conforming to the tropes of the era when it was made. Like a great deal of US post-war Christmas media, this focuses on rural America as the heart and soul of the country. The holiday elements intermingle with this vision of small town America to offer a road back to a sort of mythic pre-war innocence. What's unusual here is the inhabitants of that area are themselves lost at the start of the movie, and the ones showing them the way back aren't American.

Or at least one of them isn't. Sister Margaret was born in America and moved to France to become a nun, so her identity is a little complicated. In terms of nationality, she's certainly American - she's from Chicago, in fact. But it's her foreign religious identity and association that drives her. It's an unusual wrinkle to the usual template. 

But of course this was already an anomaly, due to the decision to set the movie away from the holidays themselves. On top of that, the themes are a least bit more progressive than usual for the era.

Though before we sing the movie's praises too fervently, it's worth noting the movie's only black character with a significant role falls into several of the usual stereotypes. The character in question is Robert's employee, Anthony, who's played by Dooley Wilson (best known for playing Sam in Casablanca). For what it's worth, Anthony is no more exaggerated a caricature than anyone else in the film, and there's a sense in which he has a better understanding of reality than his boss. There are a couple moments that stand out as implying he's smarter than he seems, but he's mostly written as simplistic and used as comic relief (though, to be fair, pretty much everyone is).

Unfortunately, it's hard to find movies from this era that don't come off as at least ambiguously racist. This one feels less egregious than most, but it's still worth acknowledging. 

Other than that, I had a lot of fun with Come to the Stable. It's not surprising this one's largely been forgotten - it lacks the kind of emotionally charged moments or fall-off-your-chair hilarious jokes that make these things endure - but as a light-hearted, charming holiday-themed comedy, it's well worth tracking down. This isn't the sort of movie that's likely to change your life or jump to the absolute top of your all-time favorites list, but it's still a wonderfully enjoyable film.

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