Fantasy, 1940s Style: Part II

In Part II of this series on fantasy films of the ‘40s, we see recurring themes that cater to fantasy: life after death, heaven and hell, good and evil, devils and angels. Some of the titles in Part II are ghost stories, but, as stated in Part I, special effects are not the focus. The characters are most important here.


The ghostly Kay Hammond

Blithe Spirit (1945)
Our one non-Hollywood film in this series is “Blithe Spirit,” which came out mid-decade. Based on Noel Coward’s play, it’s an early film by director David Lean, who later went on to direct the sprawling epics “Lawrence of Arabia” and “Doctor Zhivago” in the ‘60s.

In the mid-40s, Lean was just getting started, creating smaller, intimate films that include this witty fantasy comedy. In it, Rex Harrison and Constance Cummings are Charles and Ruth Condomine, a well-off couple living in a small town outside of London. Charles hires the hack medium Madame Arcati (Margaret Rutherford) to conduct a séance, as a way to gather background for a mystery novel. During the séance, Madame Arcati inadvertently summons the spirit of Charles's dead first wife, Elvira (Kay Hammond).

After the séance, Elvira becomes visible only to Charles, and she begins making things complicated between Charles and Ruth. To prove to Ruth that he can see this feminine apparition, Charles insists that Elvira do something obvious—so objects and furniture move on their own.

Now convinced, Ruth asks Madame Arcati to order Elvira to leave, but the dotty old medium realizes she knows how to make a ghost arrive, but she doesn't know a bloody thing about making them go. Ruth is convinced that Elivra is there to bust up her marriage, and Elvira continues to cause comic trouble, proving Ruth correct. Through jealous miscalculations, Ruth and Charles end up ‘on the other side’ along with Elvira. The machinations that get them there are witty good fun in the Noel Coward way.

Kay Hammond, not well-known to American audiences, created the role of Elvira in the stage version of “Blithe Spirit,” and she is an insouciant delight in her otherworldly green makeup and flowing gown. (The film was shot in color.) Harrison is charmingly befuddled, and Cummings is at her clipped best as his irritated wife. But it’s Rutherford, the quintessential dotty Englishwoman, who steals the show in her hysterical turn as Madame Arcati. (You may remember Rutherford as the film incarnation of Agatha Christie’s spinster sleuth Miss Marple.) This is a very British, very droll drawing room comedy with a spirited twist, and highly entertaining.

It’s a Wonderful Life (1946)

George Bailey finally gets it.

Everyone knows this perennial holiday favorite, and I include it here as a film that goes beyond its Christmas theme. While there are many lighthearted moments, it is fundamentally a dark tale about George Bailey, a man who has done the right thing his whole life, at the expense of his own dreams. His frustration eventually leads him to a desperate attempt to commit suicide—until an angel intervenes.

It’s a simplistic storyline, but this movie has many layers that make it fascinating on multiple levels. The fantasy element bookends it; like a few of the films I’ve discussed here (for example, “Heaven Can Wait”), the fantastic element merely frames the story, but it doesn’t interfere with the telling of the story itself. In "It's a Wonderful Life," the tale is told in flashback, finally leading up to the very moment at which the film began.

The movie is set in a small town and spans from 1919 to the present (1946), and you see the characters grow and age. What makes the film so special is the great effort put into creating many small moments that capture each character. Every character has their time to shine, by turns funny, touching, or repulsive, helping you understand him or her and their relationships with others. There are many flawed people in Bedford Falls, and George Bailey is definitely one of them; but at the root of him and most of the people around him are good intentions and a desire to help others.

I love this movie because it is a time capsule not just of the post-war years, but of the decades preceding it. It shows George as a young boy in the second decade of the 20th century, still a new century; following to when he’s a young man embarking on a college career in the late ‘20s, before the Crash of 1929; when he’s a young married man struggling in the lean Depression years; and in middle age, as a loving but frustrated father of four young children and the devoted husband of the love of his life, the former Mary Hatch (winningly played by the underrated Donna Reed).

The director, Frank Capra, is famous for populist films like “It Happened One Night” (1934), “Mr. Deeds Goes to Town” (1936), “You Can’t take it With You” (1938), and “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington” (1939) that resonated strongly with Depression-era audiences and still delight today. He spent the war years working for the War Department, creating documentaries and other propaganda films. “It’s a Wonderful Life” marked his return to feature films, but it was a different America. The movie was not a financial success at its release, but of course has gone on to become a treasured American classic.

Very few films of this type have this film's depth. It probably takes multiple viewings to really get all the details in script flourishes, character development, art direction (the town of Bedford Falls and home and shop interiors have as much personality as the characters), all under masterful guidance by Capra. It’s funny, moody, moving, atmospheric, and evocative of times past, and asks an eternal, basic existential question about why we are here and what life is for.

At the film's center is a devastating portrayal by James Stewart, an actor who, as he aged, became a cuddly sort of grandfatherly figure in America, but whose film acting skill should not be dismissed. As George Bailey, he navigates the development of an idealistic, dreamy boy to an embittered, disillusioned middle-aged man who thinks that life is no longer worth living—that he’s “worth more dead than alive”—but who, through spiritual intervention, learns that life for his loved ones would have been very different without him. His life, he realizes, is of value, in all its imperfection and disappointments.

For a master class in screen acting, watch Stewart’s face and listen to his whispered delivery in the bar scene toward the end of the film, at the height of George's desperation. When Stewart was really good, he was brilliant.

Angel on My Shoulder (1946)
In this little-known fantasy, gangster Eddie Kagle (Paul Muni) is released from prison, but one of his nefarious cohorts knocks him off before he gets to enjoy his newfound freedom. A bad guy in life, Eddie winds up in hell, where the devil, "Nick" (Claude Rains) offers him a second chance—but only if Eddie does Nick a favor.

Just for kicks, Nick wants to ruin the reputation of Judge Frederick Parker, an honest man who is running for governor. Eddie is a dead ringer for the judge, so Nick arranges for Eddie’s soul to enter the judge's body. This will give Eddie a chance to get back at the man who killed him—and get out of hell.

His motivations aren’t noble, of course; but despite his best efforts at destroying Judge Parker to fulfill Nick's request, Eddie (in Parker’s body) ends up doing just the opposite. When he actually falls in love with the judge’s spunky fiancé Barbara (Anne Baxter), he starts to wonder if his deal with devil was really worth it.

Paul Muni was sort of the male Meryl Streep of his day. He played a number of grand biographical leads in the 1930s (“The Story of Louis Pasteur,” “The Life of Emile Zola,”) but began his career in the early ‘30s in gangster roles (he’s the original “Scarface”), which makes his late-career turn as bad-guy Eddie in “Angel on My Shoulder” a neat nod to his filmic past. While the film is light-hearted, it does have its heavy moments, as when Eddie/Judge Parker confronts the man who knocked him off.

Claude Rains played the heavenly guardian angel in “Here Comes Mr. Jordan,” so it’s a treat to see him playing the devil here. Interesting tie-in trivia: “Angel on My Shoulder” was written by Harry Segall, who also wrote the screenplay for “Here Comes Mr. Jordan” and the play “Heaven Can Wait,” the basis of the 1943 movie.

The Bishop’s Wife (1947)
Do you remember the 1996 Whitney Houston movie “The Preacher’s Wife”? Well, this is the film on which the Houston vehicle was based. It’s all about Bishop Henry Brougham (David Niven), who is having difficulty raising money for a new cathedral. Due to the stress of dealing with several wealthy but stubborn parishioners from whom he is hoping to get funding, his marriage to his wife Julia (Loretta Young) is under strain.

Suddenly a mysterious man named Dudley (Cary Grant) appears. He sets out to charm nearly everyone in the Bishop’s orbit, including Julia, the Brougham’s agnostic friend Professor Wutheridge, and the ornery parishioners, particularly crotchety Mrs. Hamilton, who holds the purse strings on the church funding. Only the Bishop himself is unmoved by Dudley’s philanthropy. In fact, he’s a little irritated by Dudley’s presence.

Wouldn’t you be a little jealous of a magnanimous stranger who looked like Cary Grant? Dudley’s intentions are good but go beyond just helping raise money for a new church; his mission is to help restore faith to the Bishop and those around him.

In the hands of Cary Grant, Dudley is urbane and charming. Grant was a genius at making every performance look effortless, and when you’re playing an angel, you’d better be nimble. By 1947, Niven and Young were seasoned professionals, and the cast is rounded out by some plumb performances by terrific character actors like Monty Wooley (irascible and funny as the Professor), Gladys Cooper (as the mean but wounded Mrs. Hamilton), Elsa Lanchester (as the Brougham’s befuddled housekeeper Matilda), and James Gleason (appearing for the third time in this blog series in a small role as a taxi driver who ends up believing in angels). Fans of “It’s a Wonderful Life” will recognize two children in this movie: Karolyn Grimes, who plays George Bailey’s daughter Zuzu, and Bobby Anderson, who plays George as a boy. Ain't old movies fun?

Like most of the films in this series, special effects are not central to the development of the story, but there are some fun moments when Dudley decorates a Christmas tree in seconds, dictates a sermon on a typewriter that types by itself, and continually refills the Professor’s glass of wine with the knowing wave of a finger.

As in “A Guy Named Joe,” the guardian angel in "The Bishop's Wife" is a figure of calm who is there to guide the protagonist (in this case, Niven’s Bishop Brougham). Once the angel's mission is accomplished, he can head back to heaven, satisfied that his job is done. It's a nice thought, that there is a guardian angel for each of us.

This is a holiday movie that, oddly, doesn’t make it onto a lot of favorite Christmas films lists, but it’s a quiet, carefully paced picture with a lot of charm.

The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1947)

"It was only a dream."

Viewers of a certain age will no doubt remember the 1960s sitcom “The Ghost and Mrs. Muir,” which starred Hope Lange and Edward Mulhare, with comic relief by the inimitable Charles Nelson Reilly. But before it made it to television, it was a feature film.

Set in early 1900s England, Lucy Muir (Gene Tierney) rents a cottage at the seaside with her little girl Anna (an eight-year-old Natalie Wood). Her first night in the cottage, she is startled by a visit by the ghost of its former owner, Captain Daniel Gregg (Rex Harrison). He’s a salty but unthreatening old rascal who insists that Lucy write down his colorful memoirs of life at sea in the old days.

Lucy brings her manuscript to a London publisher, where she meets children’s author Miles Fairley (George Sanders). Miles, intrigued by the lovely Lucy, helps facilitate a meeting with his publisher, and Lucy’s book is a hit, enabling her to buy the captain’s cottage.

Miles courts Lucy, which raises the ire of Captain Gregg; the crusty captain, although dead, fell in love with the earthly Lucy during his dictation. But being an honorable ghost, he decides to leave her entirely so as to not interfere with her burgeoning romance. So, while she sleeps, he whispers in her ear that he was only a dream.

While visiting London, Lucy surprises Miles at home, where she discovers that he is not as innocent as his pen name of “Uncle Neddy” would indicate. He has been lying to her; married with children, Miles has a well-known reputation as a philanderer. Humiliated, Lucy vows to return to the cottage and live out the rest of her life by herself, with no romantic entanglements.

Through the years, she senses that something is missing. Years pass, and Lucy is now elderly. One evening, she sits in the chair facing the ocean, where she first encountered the captain. Content with her life, she dozes off. Just before she dies, Captain Gregg comes back and Lucy, young again in spirit, takes his hand, steps out of the old char, and they walk out of the cottage together to eternity.

Sounds corny, but through a sumptuous production, atmospheric cinematography, and excellent characterizations by Harrison and Tierney, this film is a highly rewarding experience. Unlike his flummoxed character in “Blithe Spirit,” Harrison is handsome, grouchy, imperious, funny; like Tierney's role in “Heaven Can Wait,” she is beautiful, strong, dignified, noble. Captain Gregg and Lucy are a mis-match that matches, a pair that was destined. This handsomely-mounted film is anchored in old-fashioned, but arguably admirable, notions about kindred spirits who can’t connect in life, but reunite in death—reaffirming a romantic notion that love is eternal.

Conclusion
The types of fantasy films I've discussed in this post, which deal in frivolous or serious fashion with the ideas of life after death, second chances, the meaning of existence, and beneficent spiritual intervention, all but dried up by the end of the decade; maybe it was the advent of television, which irrevocably changed Hollywood’s output in many ways, or the increasingly serious-minded post-war world. But the films I’ve discussed in the last two installments of In a Movie Place stand as thought-provoking and entertaining examples of a specific genre during a transitional decade of film.

Fantasy, 1940s Style: Part I

When we think of Hollywood in the 1940s, we think of a decade dominated by the war. From 1941 to 1945, war films were being made regularly, and even comedies, romances, period pieces and westerns used the war as a backdrop to varying degrees.

What we often don’t think of today are the number of fine fantasy films made in that decade, during and after the war. Certainly special effects have always been a part of fantasy filmmaking, but what differentiates ‘40s fantasies from the big-budget, special effects-laden fantasy films of the last 30 years is subtlety.

Compared with the CGI of today, 1940s special effects seem quaint, if not crude, but technical wizardry was never the focus. Perhaps because of the technical limitations, it's always the basic storyline, and especially the characters, that take center stage. The films I’ve selected here aren’t scary ghost stories; they blend a fundamentally romantic spirit (no pun intended) with existential themes in both light-hearted and serious fashion.

Here Comes Mr. Jordan (1941)

Robert Montgomery, as the
saxophone-playing boxer Joe Pendleton

I mentioned WWII, but this film was released in August of 1941, before the United States entered the war after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. So it has more in common with the feel of the late 1930s than it does with the ensuing decade. All that is really immaterial, as we have a film rooted in its era but somehow transcendent.

Boxer Joe Pendleton (a wonderful Robert Montgomery) dies in a plane crash and finds himself among the billowy clouds of heaven. Here he meets Mr. Jordan (Claude Rains), a sort of guardian angel who realizes Joe has mistakenly died 50 years ahead of his true destiny. His actual body has already been cremated, so Mr. Jordan acts to correct the situation by placing Joe’s spirit in the body of Bruce Farnsworth, a millionaire who has just been murdered by his wife and her lover.

Apparently Farnsworth was not a very sympathetic man in life, and Joe’s jovial, unpretentious personality confuses those who knew Farnsworth, including Bette Logan, whose father Farnsworth was trying to bankrupt. Through the course of the story, Bette falls for Joe/Bruce, while Joe/Bruce convinces Max Corkle, Joe’s former trainer, that the boxer Max knew and loved truly has been reincarnated as the despised millionaire. (The scenes in which this occurs are brilliantly played by the wonderful character actor James Gleason.)

Robert Montgomery, who usually plays debonair characters, is marvelous as Joe, a real diamond in the rough. Claude Rains, who could do no wrong as one of the finest character actors of his time, is witty, urbane, and empathetic as Mr. Jordan. And the supporting cast, including the perpetually flustered Edward Everett Horton as the spirit who caused Joe’s heavenly problem in the first place; sweet Evelyn Keyes as Bette; and Rita Johnson as the nefarious Julie Farnsworth, are all good.

The film has no special effects, as everything is implied—it’s all about the actors’ acting and reacting. What’s magical about it is how moving it becomes as it builds to its climax; Joe gets more than a second chance at life, something he wasn’t willing to give up so quickly in the first place. The conclusion between Joe and Bette is sweet and satisfying.

“Here Comes Mr. Jordan” is gorgeously filmed and a true classic that represents the best that Hollywood could produce at that time. It was remade in 1978 with Warren Beatty as “Heaven Can Wait,” not to be confused with a movie from 1943 with the same title, which is also featured in this post. (Side note: For fans of the '60s sitcom "Bewitched," Robert Montgomery is the father of its star, the fabulous Elizabeth Montgomery. Which brings us to our next film...)

I Married a Witch (1942)


"Love is stronger than witchcraft."
- Veronica Lake as Jennifer

Veronica Lake is an iconic figure of 1940s Hollywood. Her career flamed out as quickly as it began, but in 1942, she was at the top of her game with “I Married a Witch.” She is perfectly cast as Jennifer, an enchantress in colonial Salem who, along with her warlock father Daniel (Cecil Kellaway), are burned at the stake by Jonathan Wooley (Fredric March), a Puritan who then buries their ashes under a tree.

Jennifer curses Wooley and all his male descendants, dictating that they will always marry overbearing, domineering women. In a series of comic vignettes, we see how her curse affects generation after generation of Wooley men.

Which leads us to the modern day. Wallace Wooley (March again) is running for governor and engaged to marry the spoiled and bitchy (looks like the curse is working) Estelle Masterson, whose father is Wallace’s chief political backer.

During a storm, lightning splits the tree where Jennifer and Daniel have been stuck for centuries. They escape as plumes of smoke, and seek out Wallace to continue their mayhem. In order for Daniel to incarnate Jennifer as a human, he needs fire, so he burns down a hotel. As Wallace passes by the burning building, he heroically rescues Jennifer, who poses as a helpless damsel in distress.

She tries to seduce him with a love potion, but this is where her plan goes awry: She accidentally drinks the potion herself, and ends up falling in love with Wallace. Now she's busy chasing after him while trying to keep her vengeful father from carrying through with their initial plans. Complications ensue, as Wallace’s pending marriage to Estelle and his race for the governorship are put in repeated jeopardy. The contrived plot is handled cleverly by director Rene Clair, who makes the movie a lot of fun to watch. This time there are plenty of special effects of the “objects moving on their own” variety, but they’re always there to advance the plot, and the effects are actually quite fun to see even today.

Veronica Lake is delightful and sexy as the witch, her famous peak-a-boo hairdo lending itself deliciously to her character. Frederic March is paired well with her, carrying off the physical comedy quite well. (He was one of those versatile actors of his generation who could do just about anything.)

Cecil Kellaway makes the most lovable warlock in film history, consistently flubbing every attempt to wreak havoc due to his habit of converting to smoke and hiding in a bottle of booze (thus getting drunk). This was an early role for Susan Hayward as Estelle, who would go on to dominate Hollywood in the ‘50s as one of the most bankable stars. Humorist Robert Benchley, who enlivens any film he is in with his brand of dry, wry humor, has some great moments as Wallace’s friend Dr. Dudley White.

The very witty screenplay is based on the novel “The Passionate Witch” by Thorne Smith, who also wrote a number of other humorous fantasies that were made into films, including the famous “Topper” (about two sophisticated ghosts who help an old friend ultimately find happiness) and justly less well-known “Turnabout” (about a man and woman who switch bodies to see how the other half lives).

Rene Clair also directed a couple other notable film fantasies, including 1944's “It Happened Tomorrow” (featured later in this post), as well as the 1935 comedy, “The Ghost Goes West .” (Note: I am almost positive that “I Married a Witch” was the inspiration for the sitcom “Bewitched,” which I mentioned in the synopsis above about “Here Comes Mr. Jordan.”)

Heaven Can Wait (1943)
I referred to the 1978 remake of “Here Comes Mr. Jordan” above, called "Heaven Can Wait," but the 1943 “Heaven Can Wait” is a different story entirely. The film opens with Henry Van Cleve (Don Ameche) as an old man, who has just died and is arriving in Hell to review his misspent life. He meets a very elegant Satan (the deliciously venal Laird Cregar), who will judge whether he was bad enough to gain entry.

The bulk of the movie concentrates on how Henry evolves into a philanderer from a very early age. The film looks at his life at different stages, beginning at age 10 when he meets his pretty governess; to age 25, when he meets his future wife Martha (Gene Tierney); to his tumultuous 25-year marriage; and on to middle and old age, with Henry getting into one ill-advised dalliance after another.

Directed by Ernst Lubitsch, who was a master of sly, elegant comedy, the film is not laugh-out-loud funny, but does deliver a light story underscored by the heavy question of “What is life for?” The fantasy element of the film is really in the opening and closing of the film, with Henry’s interactions with Satan as his life is assessed. Was he really bad enough to go to hell? Or is his soul destined for "the other place"?

Ameche, who is a star we don’t hear much about these days, is perfectly cast as a charming rogue who eventually proves his unsuitability for hell. Gene Tierney, who appears later in the decade in another fantasy film discussed in this blog post, always lent an air of ethereal elegance to any film in which she appeared.

The supporting cast includes old pros like Charles Coburn as Henry’s irascible grandfather; Louis Calhern and Spring Byington as his clueless parents; and Marjorie Main and Eugene Pallette as Martha’s feuding parents. All of them have a chance to comically shine, but Pallette has perhaps the funniest scene opposite Main as they share a rather unpleasant breakfast.

A Guy Named Joe (1943)
"Either I'm dead or I'm crazy." So says Pete Sandidge, standing among billowing clouds after crashing his B-25 bomber. It doesn’t take long to realize he isn’t crazy.

In this wartime fantasy, Pete (Spencer Tracy) is a pilot who is sent back to earth to pass on his wisdom to another, younger, pilot, Ted Randall (Van Johnson). Pete’s unseen spirit guides Ted, and he watches with some dismay as Ted falls in love with Pete's old flame Dorinda Dunston (Irene Dunne), a Women Airforce Service Pilot who is still grieving Pete’s death.

The film hinges on Tracy’s characterization of Pete, a tough but appealling man’s man. In life, his relationship with Dorinda was tender, which makes his jealousy as he watches her and Ted’s relationship develop touching as well as funny. Their chemistry is terrific, which is fascinating since Tracy and Dunne didn't like each other in the least in real life. (I guess that's a testament to good acting.) The scene in front of a fireplace is a case of great natural acting, and it gives Dunne a chance to demonstrate her character's plucky personality. She's a feminine woman, but she's a spunky pilot completely at home among all these guys.

In an implausible conclusion, Dorinda begs Ted not to take on a mission to bomb the largest Japanese ammunition store in the Pacific. She opts to fly for Ted to keep him out of harm's way, and Pete’s ghost helps her execute the mission. The final scene of Pete realizing his earthbound assignment is finished, and coming to terms with the fact that he is dead, is sweet and moving. It’s a film firmly rooted in wartime, but the “guardian angel” storyline is timeless.

In addition to some excellent aerial special effects, mixing miniatures and actual aerial photography, “A Guy Named Joe” also features some grade-A supporting actors. These include Lionel Barrymore (Drew's great-uncle) as the celestial “General” who gives the ghostly Pete his earthly assignment; Ward Bond, who lights up every seen he's in as Pete’s best friend Al; and James Gleason (again) as the rather unsympathetic commanding officer “Nails” Kilpatrick. Swimming-turned-movie star Esther Williams also has a small role, which kicked off her successful career in films at MGM.

I think the point of this morale-boosting film is summed up in a frank conversation between the spirits of Barrymore and Tracy, when the General tells Pete: "No man is really dead unless he breaks faith with the future; no man is really alive unless he accepts his responsibility to it. That’s the chance we are giving you here; the opportunity to pay off to the future what you owe for having been part of the past. It’s another way of saying, I’m glad I lived; I’m glad I was alive.”

Side note: Steven Spielberg is a long-time fan of this film, and he remade the basic story as “Always” in 1989, changing the setting from WWII to aerial firefighters. On a fun related note, “A Guy Named Joe” is playing on a television in the background in the decidedly more frightening ghost story “Poltergeist,” which Spielberg produced (but may as well have also directed) in 1982.

It Happened Tomorrow (1944)



Dick Powell and Linda Darnell

Larry Stevens (Dick Powell) is a newspaper reporter in the early 1900s who wishes he could see the news a day before it actually happens. His old friend Pop Benson gives him a copy of a newspaper, which Larry stuffs into his jacket and forgets.

That evening, Larry discovers that the newspaper Pop gave him has printed tomorrow’s news; and it continues to do so with each subsequent day. Larry uses this advantage to get the scoop on his competitors, but also finds he can get rich at the racetrack by betting on winning horses.

But his ability ends up bringing about more problems than he anticipates, especially as he learns about a hold-up before it happens, which makes him the main suspect. When Larry sees the news of his own death, he finally realizes this visionary ability has gone too far.

This all sounds very serious, and the film does exhibit enough drama to make the story engaging, but under the helm of French film Rene Clair (who also directed “I Married a Witch” a couple years before), the film has a light touch, and setting it during the turn of the 20th century gives it a charming quaintness. It's a nice take on the idea of "careful what you wish for" theme.

Dick Powell, who has been featured on In a Movie Place in my earlier post on film noir, is always a solid leading man, capable of heavy drama or light comedy. Anyone would agree that Linda Darnell, as Larry's girlfriend Sylvia, niece of the phony clairvoyant, was one of the era’s most beautiful actresses. And with old comic veterans Jack Oakie (as Sylvia’s clairvoyant uncle); Edgar Kennedy (as Inspector Mulrooney, the cop who’s after Larry); and the always hilarious Edward Brophy as one of Larry’s fellow newspapermen, this fantastic story requires no special effects, but rather tells its tale with finesse and style and a good deal of humor.

I am guessing that this film was the inspiration for the late ‘90s hit TV show “Early Edition,” which starred Kyle Chandler as a man who mysteriously gets the daily news one day before publication, and how he uses that knowledge to help curtail various disasters.

In Part 2 of this installment, we'll look at four more movies, all made after the war, that continue our look at fantasy in the films of the 1940s.