Best Picture #41
Original Release Date: September 26, 1968
Rating: G
Runtime: 2 hours, 33 minutes
Director: Carol Reed
Quick Impressions:
I fell in love with Oliver! when I was three years old. If I’m being brutally honest with myself, it’s probably not my favorite movie anymore. (I don’t know if I have just one favorite movie these days!) But it was my first favorite movie, and that tends to stick with you.
For me, anyway, this film was defining, life shaping. As soon as I saw it, I began calling myself Nancy and speaking in a cockney accent (or what I thought was a passable cockney accent. Keep in mind, I was a three-year-old from Nebraska with a chronically stuffy nose and the tendency to pronounce initial hard Cs as Ts.) But I thought I sounded just like Shani Wallis, and I got so into my role playing–“stealing” items from around the house, hiding them in strange places, all the while refusing to answer to my own name–that my dad got concerned about my mental health. (Now he says that he probably overreacted, but I suppose a man can only have his keys and wallet pickpocketed so many times before he finds himself pleading desperately, “You cannot be Nancy anymore. You are Sarah. I need to talk to Sarah!”)
In college, I did my senior novel project on Oliver Twist. I chose the Dickens novel because I knew I couldn’t possibly get sick to death of the story before the end of the semester-long project. I must say, though, despite several highly amusing lines and passages unique to the novel, I far prefer the film. Normally, I’m the type who likes the book better than the movie. But I almost always prefer a Broadway show (or a movie musical based on one) to its source material. In general, that’s because shows so effectively evoke an intense emotional response (which is always pleasant to experience whether the feelings are stirred by triumph or tragedy).
In this particular case, though, I’d argue that the movie is simply better. Oliver Twist is one of Dickens’s earliest novels (his first, in fact, if like me, you don’t count The Pickwick Papers). His work matured over the course of his long, productive career, but Oliver Twist is a little rough around the edges. When I consider, say, Great Expectations, I’m blown away by how masterfully Dickens weaves together such involved subplots, so many colorful characters. Most of these initially appear extraneous, yet somehow they all end up feeding back into the main story, contributing in a significant, unexpected (and often almost unbelievable) way. But in Oliver Twist, some minor characters truly do feel unnecessary, and the subplots introduced by their presence border on convoluted. (Okay, it’s mainly the Monks storyline I don’t like. I guess he’s one character, but he clutters up the novel so much that he feels like twenty-five people at least!)
Also the novel is permeated by an unpleasant, casual antisemitism. (With Dickens, it doesn’t feel personal, maybe not even intentional. A charitable reading is that the relatively young writer has simply soaked up the antisemitism of his day and reflects it back in his work. But it’s there, and it’s off-putting. I think Dickens improves in this regard as he ages, but the way he writes about Fagin in this early novel is definitely troubling and unpleasant.) Also the musical is just more fun. Its energy is focused forward, and (unlike the book) it doesn’t get bogged down in flowery exhortations and pleas to the angels. (In other words, Oliver! features more catchy singing and keeps the florid moralizing to a minimum.)
I was incredibly nervous about showing Oliver! to my daughter because it still holds a special place in my heart, and a lot of the musical Best Picture winners we’ve watched so far have not been to her liking. Fortunately, she found Oliver! (to use her own word) “charming.”
The Plot:
Lifelong orphan Oliver Twist wants more. And boy does he get it! After he draws the long straw and requests an unprecedented second helping of gruel, Oliver finds himself thrown out of the workhouse where he has always lived, and (after a brief debacle working as an undertaker’s mute) on the road to London. Concealing himself in a convenient basket of cabbages, Oliver rides into the city where he promptly meets Jack Dawkins, otherwise known as the Artful Dodger, a charming young pickpocket who gives Oliver the most spectacular, show-stopping introduction to London imaginable, then invites him to stay with Fagin, a “kindly old gentlemen” who offers free lodging to boys with nowhere else to turn. There’s one catch, though. If you want to live with Fagin, “you’ve got to pick a pocket or two.” (Strangely Oliver does not seem to understand that this means stealing, despite the fact that Fagin and the boys devote an entire musical number to teaching him how to do it.) He also meets Nancy, one of Fagin’s female protégés who has grown up to become (among other things) the romantic partner of the notorious Bill Sikes, another former pickpocket who is now a highwayman and housebreaker with a fearsome reputation.
After staying with Fagin and the boys for less than twenty-four hours, Oliver gets himself arrested for picking a gentleman’s pocket (even though he didn’t actually do it). The gentleman turns out to be the kindly Mr. Brownlow who takes Oliver home to live with him in his comfortable neighborhood. The boy flourishes there, and every day the strange resemblance between him and Brownlow’s niece (who mysteriously ran
away about a decade ago) grows more and more pronounced. How curious!
But Fagin and the boys are worried. What if Oliver says something about them, something that could get them arrested? Particularly concerned is Sikes who forces Nancy to participate in a plot to trick and kidnap Oliver and bring him back to Fagin’s place.
Nancy is immediately filled with regret, but Sikes still isn’t satisfied. Determined to wreck Oliver’s chances to extricate himself from the criminal world, Sikes forces the boy to participate in a burglary that goes awry. But Nancy has plans of her own. Although she won’t betray Bill, she is determined to save Oliver at any (other) cost.
The Good:
As an adult, what I admire most about Oliver! is its superb choreography. You know the choreography is good when the film manages to win an Oscar for choreography, and that’s not even an award the Academy gives out! I think technically, the Oscar was awarded to choreographer Onna White (but it was an honorary Oscar specifically for the choreography in Oliver! And that’s not a thing! Nobody else has ever won that!)
Now maybe you’ll think I’m just being pretentious, praising the choreography because I know it’s award winning. But, no, what I’m saying is, when you watch the movie, White’s choreography really is conspicuously outstanding. Now I’m no choreographer. In fact, I’m so clumsy I usually can’t manage even the simplest dance steps (and in fact only recently learned how to properly hang pants). (I still am lousy at sweeping the floor. I am just horribly, horribly uncoordinated to the point that there must be something clinically wrong with me.) But my point is, even though I lack the skill to choreograph something, or even the proper vocabulary to describe choreographed movement (sometimes even the visual skill to understand which movements I am seeing), when I watch Oliver!, I am thrilled by and enthralled with the way dance not only enhances but advances the story.
I need neither training nor innate ability to see this. (I do wish I had the technical vocabulary to describe it better.) But what I mean is, I’ve seen so many movies in which the dancing–outstanding though it may be–pulls focus away from the story and slows down the momentum of the film.
This is especially true in films that have really showy dancing, which is why as a child, I got bored during sequences of musicals that featured extended dance numbers. Showcasing a dancer’s grace and athleticism is great, but often when that happens, the story just stalls, as if it’s been put on pause, and the dance takes over. (Now sometimes this works because the dance itself means something and is a story-within-a-story.)
But the dancing in Oliver! works differently. The energy of each dancer’s movements seems directed toward completing a task related to what the character would actually be doing in the story. There’s a functional quality to all of it. The movement serves a purpose. It actually drives the story forward.
This is particularly cool because Dickens had such a thing for vivid, dynamic scenery. In his prose, the settings seem almost as alive as the people, almost as if they are themselves characters functioning within the story. And when I spent a semester studying Oliver!, I noticed that the reverse is also true. In many cases, the characters become so entrenched in their functional roles and their surroundings that they practically turn into scenery. They are so much prisoners of their environments that they become their environments. (Even the words chosen hint at this. Fagin is a fence because he sells stolen goods. But he also surrounds himself with old, rotting boards and can’t seem to get out. And he traps other people, too.)
Probably the most brilliantly choreographed number I have ever seen is “Consider Yourself,” the song Dodger sings to Oliver when they first meet. Everyone on the streets of London participates in this song. But their choreographed movements are just exaggerated motions of carrying out the work they are all actually doing. I’ve seen other numbers choreographed in this style but not on this scale. And then at the end of the song, the music ends, but the motion continues. The number just sort of dissolves into the activity always seen on a city street. But this is perfect for a film inspired by the Dickens novel. In Dickens, the setting is almost always alive, and in Oliver Twist especially, the people are a part of their environment. I’ve never seen such justice done to source material with such elegance before, such panache.
That’s honestly the best number, but in every number, the movement is practical. So we get all of these dazzling, inventive dance moves, but they’re all moving the narrative forward instead of forcing the story to stop for a minute. This is the type of musical in which the songs actively tell the story. (In the best musicals, that’s the way it works, but there are plenty of musicals that do not work that way.) And the motions used help the song to advance the story. Some of the steps and motions are quite inventive, but they always point toward the forward progress of the story, lending it their energy instead of using their energy to bring the story to a grinding halt. I’m not sure why the Academy decided to make an exception and give Onna White that Oscar, but she deserves it. Her work is exceptional.
Also the characters are fantastic, larger-than-life as Dickensian characters usually are, some of them even more delightful here than in the source material. And the actors portraying them fit the roles perfectly and can sing and dance (except, probably Oliver Reed. My mother always assumed Bill’s song was cut from the film because Reed, the director’s nephew, could not sing. I’m not sure that’s true, but she was.)
Fagin, frankly, is much more delightful in this film than in the novel, and he certainly meets a better end. I mentioned already that his characterization in the book seems marred by antisemitism. Also he’s just so unpalatably lurid in the book, a true villain. In the film, he’s more of a lovable reprobate, a scalawag. I prefer to think that he genuinely cares for the boys to some degree, that, at the very least, he tries to make life pleasant for them as he exploits them. (I don’t think Ron Moody portrays him as a sinister pedophile, but in the book, Fagin is definitely the most evil one around–aside from, maybe, Monks. He’s worse than Sikes honestly!) Moody’s portrayal of Fagin is so much fun to watch. He originated the role on the London stage, and he plays it so engagingly here, receiving a Best Actor nomination for his efforts. The movie is worth watching, frankly, just to see Moody play Fagin. My grandma adored Ron Moody as Fagin. (That’s how I saw the movie when I was three in the first place. My grandma was watching it. There wasn’t a surprise screening at the preschool. (Even if there had been, I wouldn’t have seen it. My mother kept me home with her until kindergarten!))
For obvious reasons, I always hated Bill Sikes as a child. I despised him. But when I read the book, he was practically my favorite character. (That’s largely because his character is the most consistent between the book and the film. In the movie, Reed even gets to deliver memorable lines that are straight from the book, like “you avaricious old skeleton.”) Now, admittedly, in the novel, Sikes and Fagin are reversed in terms of which one is villainous and which is sympathetic (and Nancy is all tangled up with Rose). But even setting the book aside, as an adult, I am much more sympathetic to Sikes than I was as a child. I used to detest him. Now I pity him. Honestly, I really feel for him. He’s so tormented, and I believe he only acts so rashly because he believes he’s been betrayed, hurt by someone whose loyalty he was counting on. (I’m not saying his emotional wounds excuse his behavior. I would highly recommend against dating him.) But I have more sympathy for the character now, and I do think Reed gives a good performance, even though my mom was convinced he was miscast and got the role because of nepotism.
Actually, another character I didn’t appreciate as much until adulthood is Oliver himself. When I was young, I wasn’t crazy about his singing voice. I thought it sounded too angelic, “like a girl,” as I pointedly complained as a child. It didn’t seem to fit his face. (Not until recently did I learn that his singing voice is dubbed by a female performer, Kathe Green.) But now I find Mark Lester’s performance quite charming. (And there’s nothing wrong with Green’s singing voice, either. She certainly sings better than I ever could!) Lester is a genuinely appealing child. He plays the role with a delightful naïveté and amusing sweetness. (And have you heard that Lester believes he’s Paris Jackson’s biological father? I discovered his thoughts on the subject by accident one day, but I’m not sure that I find his argument as convincing as he does.)
Even better than Fagin, Grandma liked Harry Secombe as Mr. Bumble. I’m not sure why she had such a soft spot for him, but he is engaging in the role. (Of course, her favorite cast member was almost certainly my cousin when he played Oliver himself in a high school production.)
Some actors playing minor characters make a big, Dickensian impression–like Hugh Griffith as the drunken magistrate and Leonard Rossiter as Mr. Sowerberry, the undertaker whose brief, shining moment comes when he drunkenly finds a coffin comfortable.
Jack Wild is incredible as The Artful Dodger (one of the showiest and most memorable parts in any production of Oliver!). Wild (who played Oliver on the London stage) earned a thoroughly deserved Best Supporting Actor nomination for his memorable turn as Dodger. (I wish I could have seen him play Oliver!)
The film is so engaging. The musical improves on the novel by cutting extraneous characters and subplots and making just about everyone more likeable (Sikes being the notable exception).
The sound and score won Oscars, as did the art direction, and it’s easy to see why. The film is like one big tourism commercial for London. If you watch Oliver! and don’t want to visit London at the end, then I don’t know what to tell you. It makes even dangerous alleyways and out-and-out slums look delightful.
This musical has fantastic songs, too. Like the choreography, the songs keep the story moving forward. Most of them work almost like montages in more recent films. (Well, I’m calling to mind mostly 80s movies. Can I use the word “recent” there? Probably not since 1985 is much closer to 1968 than to now.) Through song, we are fairly quickly shown events that must have taken quite a while. Oliver lives all his days at the workhouse. He asks for more. He’s sold. He meets Dodger and learns about London. Fagin teaches him to pickpockets. All of this happens at warp speed thanks to the jaunty tunes. The only songs that don’t speed along the story either establish atmosphere or reveal a character’s interiority. Most of Nancy’s songs reveal her state of mind, character, and evolving feelings. That way, we know who she is and what she’s about quickly, without having to watch dialogue-heavy scenes that take time away from the main plot. (I did have a thought while watching “Anything for You” this time. That was my least favorite of Nancy’s songs as a child because it seemed to slow the story down. Of course, it shows Nancy’s desire to be kind to Oliver and the other boys. I did wonder this time, though, “Is that a sort of training song, too, like Fagin’s song about picking pockets?” It’s a slightly disconcerting line of thinking. I don’t recommend it.)
Best Scene:
My favorite part comes near the end, when Nancy lashes out at Bill and Fagin for their poor treatment of Oliver. Her indignation on his behalf is very rousing. It’s hard not to admire her desire to protect him, and to feel for her as she makes the realization that everything being done to him was done to her once. I loved this part as a child, and it still sometimes make me cry. I get always get very emotionally invested at this point.
Best Song
My favorite song is “Oom-Pah Pah,” and it always has been. Not only is it very rousing, but Nancy sings it with the pretense of wild abandon while actually hatching a clever plan. In my experience, seeming wild abandon often masks other feelings and motivations entirely. Even as an adult, I find this part of the movie riveting, and I love the way it explores the fine line between living and dying.
Nancy’s final scene, which comes just after was always both my favorite and most hated part of the film when I was a child. Dickens liked this part best, too. It is worth noting that he died while performing a reading of it. (The scene is dramatically different in the book, but a lot of the ideas and feelings roused are the same.)
As a child, I always assumed that Pete’s Dragon ripped off some of the choreography used in “Oom-Pah Pah.” Then I learned that Onna White choreographed that film, too.
In terms of being musically pleasant, “Be Back Soon” is also a fantastic song. They’re all good, really.
Best Scene Visually:
“Consider Yourself” is not only most effectively choreographed scene in this movie, but (truly) the most perfect use of choreography I have seen in any movie.
Best Action Sequence:
Well, I’ve already raved about how much I like all the intense action that happens near the end. Any time Bill Sikes is around, the action is good because his presence brings with it a threat of violence. Oliver Reed does a good job of dialing up the intensity. (I love his cadence, his careful enunciation, when he calls Fagin an “avaricious old skeleton.”)
Also, if you define action slightly differently, Oliver’s musical lesson in pocket-picking is riveting.
The Negatives:
I wish the movie kept all of the songs from the show. When I was little, I used to listen to the record of the Original Broadway Cast recording to help me fall asleep. I prefer Shani Wallis to Georgia Brown as Nancy (because I saw the movie first), but I think the show does a better job with the song “As Long as He Needs Me,” by including a reprise and not using such strange background orchestrations. (In the movie, Nancy sounds like she’s singing while passing through some kind of mystical time corridor.) When I watch the movie, I always miss “I Shall Scream,” the second verse of “Oliver,” and Bill Sikes’s menacing “My Name,” though here it’s repurposed into a musical theme that plays every time we get so much as a hint of him. (There’s also a great song that was originally cut from the musical, but put back in to some more recent productions called “That’s Your Funeral.” I understand that Mr. Sowerberry doesn’t need to take up more time in the story, but the song is still very catchy.)
I miss some of the funnier parts of the book, too. I wish there were room for the man who buys boys to be chimney sweeps and takes his snuff out of a tiny coffin. I wish we got more of Noah Claypole. (That’s my favorite line in the book. “No chance-child was he, for he could trace his genealogy all the way back to his parents.” I also love Mr. Brownlow’s friend who constantly exclaims that he will eat his own head. He’s only in the movie for three seconds.
When I was young, I never liked the song that comes immediately after the intermission. As it started this time, I remarked to my daughter, “I’ve always found ‘Who Will Buy?’ kind of boring.” As we watched, she laughed, “What is wrong with you, Mom? This song is many things, but it is not boring!” Maybe I just never liked it as a child because I was waiting for the criminals to come back–which they do (in a way that is both menacing and hilarious) right at the end of the song.
I suppose also there’s the possibility that Nancy is not a great role model for women not seeking to be beaten to death in abusive relationships. My mother was concerned about how strongly I identified with Nancy. Every time I watch the scene where Bill yells, “Of course I love you! I live with you, don’t I?” I feel an inward shudder because my mother always pointedly told me, “If he really loved her, he would marry her.” I agree that Bill Sikes is not a great romantic partner, but I think she missed the mark a bit there on precisely what’s so objectionable about their dynamic. (I was just remembering how I wasn’t supposed to tell the minister that I wanted to be a pickpocket like Nancy, so I obediently avoided that and told him instead, “I want to be a witch like Tabitha.” As it turned out, his daughter’s name was Tabitha, making my mother very concerned when she later learned what I had said. But he was an adult man in the early 1980s. I’m pretty sure he knew which Tabitha I meant.) (We’re re-watching Bewitched right now. Samantha Stephens makes some weird relationship choices, too.)
What actually makes me saddest about Oliver! is that now when we have breakfast for dinner, I can’t say to my mother, “These sausages are moldy,” so that she can reply to me, “Shut up and drink your gin.” We’ve been doing that routine for years. It’s not as good one-sided. I could do it with my daughter, but she doesn’t eat sausages.
Overall:
Oliver! was my first favorite movie, and it still has a special place in my heart. (My daughter gave it the coveted 11th place spot on her list.) I know a lot of movie buffs get mad that Oliver! won Best Picture that year when 2001: A Space Odyssey wasn’t even nominated. But I’ll tell you a secret. I’ve seen both films, and I like Oliver! better. I like The Lion in Winter better, too. I’m not insulting 2001, but come on, every year has more than one Oscar worthy movie!