YOU'RE GETTING OLDER, DEAR: "Oliver" is 55 Years Old!

Oh, my. If you saw the original theatrical run of "Oliver" in December of 1968, then it must be terribly inconvenient when you lose one of your crutch tips. Ah hahahaha! I kid, I kid! But, yes, it's true, the Oscar-winning musical based on the West End/Broadway smash is 55 years old this month. If you haven't seen it, treat yourself. I insist. Are you reluctant? Do you usually swear off musicals (perhaps they're too sticky or sentimental for your tastes)? I still insist, because "Oliver" was directed by the masterful Carol Reed, a criminally underrated virtuoso. At the time, film geeks were spitting mad when "Oliver" won Best Picture over "2001: A Space Odyssey" and dismissed it entirely. I wager they didn't actually see it, since it's impossible to ignore Reed's command of performance, design, camera movement and sound in indelible scenes like this: 

Before "Oliver," Reed was mostly known for several highly atmospheric and deeply cynical film-noirs, like "The Third Man" (which is often and erroneously credited to Orson Welles), "Odd Man Out" and "Night Train To Munich." So at first glance, the producers decision to hire him for "Oliver" might have seemed a bit odd. But then again, he was an acknowledged whiz in terms of drawing out dimensional performances from children, most notably in "The Fallen Idol," a chilling masterwork which features eight-year-old actor, Bobby Henrey, in an unforgettable turn as a child who may or may not have witnessed a murder. That alone, along with his brilliant visual gifts, likely cinched the deal. 

When you see "Oliver" now, it's head-turning to consider what Reed and his collaborators pulled off. One of their more stunning achievements was to strip the anti-semitism entirely from Dickens' original conception of Fagin, while still retaining his grim menace and humor. The movie also didn't stint on the villainy of Bill Sikes. Not for nothing did Reed have Sikes' musical number from the stage version cut. In Reed's version, villains don't sing. Yet most of all, the movie moves like few musical do, gracefully segueing from dialogue to music and back again - and crucially, with the dialogue kept to an absolute bare minimum (most of it from the stage version was cut). 

It also abounds with expressionistic touches, since Reed knew that the sweep of music could easily carry an audience into the abstract. One such moment occurs when the abused Nancy sings "As Long As He Needs Me," her tragic emotions suddenly made temporal when she steps through a long corridor of shattered window panes: 

Where did this corridor come from? Who the hell knows? You don't think of that in the moment (or even after), since your overwhelmed by Nancy's doomful fate. But most of all, "Oliver" delivers purest joy without gooey sentiment - perhaps it's most striking accomplishment. Even as an adult, you can delight in the music and dance without feeling infantilized (as some complain about with musicals like "The Sound Of Music") (including me). 

Time was not kind to many of the movie's creative team once it was released. Lionel Bart, the gay composer and lyricist, succumbed to alcoholism and became near destitute; Shanni Wallis, who played Nancy, raced to Hollywood for a leading lady career which never materialized; while Ron Moody, indelible as Fagin, saw his career just about vanish when he became too choosy and turned down countless plumb roles. Jack Wilde, as The Artful Dodger, found moderate success in TV's "H.R. Pufnstuf," though that was about it for him. Mark Lester, who played Oliver, later left show business and became an osteopath (his singing voice in the movie was dubbed by the musical director's young daughter, though that was keep hush-hush for decades!). The only cast member who truly soared afterwards was Oliver Reed, then a relative unknown who was suggested to the director for the role of Bill Sikes by a producer who'd no idea that actor and director were uncle and nephew. 

When my parents first introduced me to "Oliver" - they bought it on VHS! - I was so transported that I asked to see it again right away, just after it concluded (as chirrun are wont to do). I played the LP so many times, it had to be replaced. In fact, I loved it a whole lot more than many of the other musical classics I was introduced to, and still do, since when I watch it now, it doesn't only remind me of my childhood. I still get caught up in its spell. 

Photo Credits: Columbia Pictures/Romulus