Carol Channing was a force of nature. The actress electrified the Broadway stages, originating such famous roles as Lorelei in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and the titular character in Hello, Dolly!, but the husky-voiced sensation with a mega-wat smile went on to find success in front of cameras too. Whether acting or just being herself, there's effervescent energy to Channing's screen presence, a frenetic joy that made her both a camp icon and an entertainment powerhouse whose fame persists to this day, long after her heyday and even her death. Throughout her legendary career, Channing won four Tony Awards, a place in the Grammy Hall of Fame, a Golden Globe, and even an Oscar nomination. Since we're all a bit Oscar-obsessed around here, the star's centennial this week feels like a good time to reminisce about that achievement, its inherent weirdness, and wacky charm…
Depending on who you ask, the 1967 George Roy Hill directed Thoroughly Modern Millie may be described as a classic comedic delight from the roadshow musical era or as an overlong mess whose blatant racism made it age worse than milk in a hothouse. I'm somewhere in the middle of those reactions, though the prejudiced view of Asian people is beyond disgusting and tends to overshadow whatever pleasures the rest of the movie offers. When I was in high school, one of my best friends was a huge fan of Julie Andrews as well as movie musicals. It was through exchanging DVDs with her that I started to fall in love with this genre, Andrews, and classic cinema in general. One of the movies I watched back then was Thoroughly Modern Millie, so it's fair to say that, in my mind, the flick is forever enshrined in a cloud of rosy nostalgia. Maybe that's why I can't completely dismiss it, even if recent re-watches made me balk.
As Daniel Walber pointed out in one of his The Furniture write-ups, Thoroughly Modern Millie presents a parody of the Roaring Twenties through the kaleidoscopic perspective of the Swinging Sixties. Hill and company both celebrate and mock the past. It's as if the picture's always dancing a spastic Charleston between period escapism in love with the libertine materialism of the pre-Depression 20s and a jolly parody of its fashions, social mores, cinematic languages, outdated tastes. Mix that with a streak of romanticism that ends in a queasy note of traditionalism trumping sexual liberation, you get a musical that often feels at odds with itself. It's also way too long, clocking at a gargantuan 138 minutes. The tiresome girth of the duration squelches the humor under its weight.
All that negativism taken care of, let's talk about the movie's saving graces. The production is unashamed and unafraid of indulging in overt artifice, allowing a sense of ridiculous fakery to dictate its design. The costumes are especially fun in their collision of 1920s fashion plate excess and 1960s mod affectations and cartoonish theatricality. The cast also does an admirable job, even the actors stuck in unfortunate yellowface and Orientalist stereotypes. Still, no matter how charming Julie Andrews might be as the titular girl or how much Mary Tyler Moore's sweet disposition may make one smile, Thoroughly Modern Millie is Carol Channing's movie through and through. That's incredible when one considers that the Broadway diva first appears 45 minutes into the story. Her entrance might be late, but it's memorable.
Descending from the sky in a black and white airplane, Muzzy van Hossmere is as much a force of nature as the actress playing her. She's likewise a fabulous entertainer. With a glass of champagne in hand, spilling bubbly through the skies, Muzzy announces herself as a diamond-frosted clown, greeting the main character and the camera with the nonsensical greeting: "Raspberries!" Just like that, Thoroughly Modern Millie's milquetoast parody of 1920s culture finds its most bizarre and unique subject, a woman so spectacular she acts like a bolt of electricity zapping through the screen, striking the audience. Considering how thin the characterization is, it's challenging to defend Channing's work as a great performance. Nonetheless, it's a perfect feat of zany entertainment.
Sometimes, that's enough.
Within the movie, the Muzzy represents the epitome of what Millie wants to be, a jazz baby of unlimited fortune, unbridled joie de vivre, and unbelievable glamour. Curiously, she often feels like the most anachronistic element in this deeply anachronistic movie. Channing's presence is pure 60s. Her look owes everything to the glitz of 1967 and nothing to the Roaring Twenties. Indeed, every detail of her star turn, from vocal cadence to dance moves, seems to belong to a plane of existence entirely divorced from any specific historical epoch. In many ways, it makes sense. After all, she's so temporarily dislocated, Channing's Muzzy is more modern than modernity itself. Whatever the alchemy at hand, the result is the same – whenever Channing's onscreen, it's impossible to look anywhere else.
Look no further than the song "Jazz Baby" to see the actress's specific brand of stardom at work. The tune itself is so grating it becomes charming while the dancing makes up for its disjointedness with manic enthusiasm. That's part of Channing's magic, how she can be so wrong but feel so right at the same time. Amid the turgid racist humor, the actress is always able to put a smile on my face. If nothing else, she's so strange that the only way of remaining sane is to give in to the crazy and have fun with it. Still, even though we may laugh our head off while watching Thoroughly Modern Millie, nobody can have more fun than Channing playing Muzzy. Even when fighting villains, this jazz baby never loses her smile or her enthusiasm. The threat of murder is just another pretext to put on a show and wield a glittery belt as a weapon.
At the 40th Academy Awards, Thoroughly Modern Millie received seven nominations, including a golden citation for Carol Channing. While I'd hesitate before nominating the actress, I can't say I'm unhappy at her honor. It's the sort of crackerjack madness that AMPAS rarely honors and, if there was one person capable of making Muzzy into an Oscar-worthy role, that's Carol Channing. She might have even come close to winning the statuette, as strange as that might seem. The Globes went with her as their champion, and critics often singled her out as the movie's MVP. In summary, Carol Channing was a legend worthy of our adoration, and her Oscar nomination is as wonderfully implausible as she was. It feels fitting that hers still the only Best Supporting Actress nominated performance to feature the performer being fired out of a canon.
To finish things in perfect Carol Channing fashion there's just one thing to add. Once again… RASPBERRIES!