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Bob Dylan seemed comfortable speaking with journalist Cameron Crowe. It was September ’85 when Dylan took part in several interviews for his box set, Biograph. A lot was covered. He dispensed on God being the judge and the devil ruling the world, and then noted the abusive language of some college students at a concert who yelled “things I don’t even want to repeat, just really filthy mouth stuff .”

Revealing old-school sensibilities, he offered advice to aspiring songwriters and singers. Getting right to the point, he said, ”disregard all the current stuff, forget it, you’re better off, read John Keats, Melville, listen to Robert Johnson and Woody Guthrie. Movies too. I’ve seen hundreds of them, how many of them stay with you? Shane, Red River, On The Waterfront, Freaks? Maybe a handful of others…I just saw one the other night, as soon as it was over, I couldn’t remember a thing about it. Seemed real important at the time, though.”

Nearly a quarter-century later Dylan told historian Douglas Brinkley of his admiration for film director John Ford:

I like his old films. He was a man’s man and he thought that way. He never had his guard down. Put courage and bravery, redemption and a peculiar mix of agony and ecstasy on the screen in a brilliant dramatic manner. His movies were easy to understand. I like that period of time in American films.

I think America has produced the greatest films ever. No other country has ever come close. The great movies that came out of America in the studio system, which a lot of people say is the slavery system, were heroic and visionary, and inspired people in a way that no other country has ever done. If film is the ultimate art form, then you’ll need to look no further than those films. Art has the ability to transform people’s lives. and they did just that.

Bob Dylan is spot-on regarding the film-making of the mid-thirties through the early-sixties, the years in which John Ford produced so many brilliant works. Still great talents emerge over each decade.  We remember that Paul Simon wrote, “every generation throws a hero on the pop charts.” The finest of those heroes, however, learns from the masters, just as Dylan learned from Woody Guthrie, or Oliver Stone, when inspired to create Wall Street, remembered Executive Suite, an early ’50′s classic directed by Robert Wise.

There’s also much truth to what Dylan says about art having the ability to transform people’s lives. In fact, art, especially great art, goes beyond that; its messages resonate and are often viewed and perceived more thoughtfully as the years pass. Great songs, books, paintings and films stand shoulder to shoulder with the times in which they were created and or celebrated. The soundtrack and landscape are often inseparable.

My wife, Gena, a far more educated person than I, not only tolerates my many shortcomings, but also shares my enthusiasm for films of the thirties, forties and fifties. Over the last 32 years we have marveled at the conniving Bette Davis, the embattled Barbara Stanwyck, the right-as-rain James Stewart, the voice (!) of George Sanders, the hang-dog appeal of Paul Douglas and the determination of Gary Cooper, whether he’s seeking to finish some remaining business in High Noon or trying to buy that piece of bottom land in Sergeant York.

Quite often we have communicated with each other using lines that only Hollywood’s best could offer. These are words that highly paid “counselors” cannot conjure. Hey guys. Caught in a jam?  Channel Sweet Smell of Success and tell your significant other, “I make no brief about my bilious private life but…..” and see how that goes over, mainly because she wonders what all ”bilious” entails. Or, when asked how the day has gone, announce that it’s ”another red letter day for the (your surname here) family.” That line’s featured in It’s A Wonderful Life, a film often perceived as little more than a warm and fuzzy story of being contented and thankful, despite the daily hardships. Well, maybe. But it can also be viewed as a take on how much better life could be if not overwhelmed with obligations, even those familial. There is another piercing rejoinder in the film, (used only jokingly, in our case; really),” Why don’t you go away and stop bothering people?”

Our taste in films is so steeped in black and white that some may think we’re old enough to have dined with Gloria Swanson, years before anyone knew about Norma Desmond. That’s not the case. Besides, films of the last five decades contain great lessons and, of course, cutting lines we employ.  There are numerous films of recent vintage that convey the passions of any given period. After all, every generation has the right to feel imbued, cynical and messed over.

So we consider Heaven Can Wait, a re-make of the 1948 film, Here Comes Mr. Jordan. Released in 1978, the film focuses on a mid-seventies NFL quarterback, who, while riding his bike through a tunnel, is killed by an oncoming truck. Being a well conditioned athlete, the quarterback, played by Warren Beatty, surely had the reflexes to survive the crash. But a celestial escort, played by Buck Henry, acts preemptively. He pulls the quarterback’s soul from his body. The quarterback, Joe Pendleton, believing he’s in the middle of “a really weird dream,” finds himself at a way station in the heavens.He pleads his case before a Mr. Jordan, the archangel who runs the way station. Played brilliantly by James Mason,the archangel tries to correct things but learns he cannot put Pendleton back in his body. The quarterback was cremated. Mr. Jordan wishes to atone for the escort’s mistake and find a suitable body (from a man about to die) for Pendleton’s soul. That would allow the quarterback to return to the gridiron. Yet they run into constraints. It’s not easy to find a body up to NFL standards, particularly a body soon to expire.

But the constraints are not the main story. There’s also the charm found in the film, reminiscent of a cute-all-day Irene Dunne. Then there’s the screenplay, co-written by Beatty and Elaine May, that reflects the political and social rumblings of 1978.  The screenplay also brings to mind how we feel today when thinking of those who put us in our current jam, the one that makes the economic crisis of the late seventies and early eighties seem less turbulent .

Heaven Can Wait hit the multiplexes just before inflation overwhelmed American pocketbooks and when the Carter administration still commanded some, albeit dwindling, confidence. The country was not at a crisis point just yet, but to many Americans, things were off kilter.  The price of gasoline, utilities and other essential items were skyrocketing. There was a general lack of confidence in our elected officials and corporate America. A decade ago it seemed we would never feel such cynicism about the established order again. Yet the resentment toward government and business some 30 years ago was mild compared to what is felt today. After all, we read daily of big bonuses given to executives who helped wreck our economy.  These failed people are so valuable!  They deserve the extra six, seven or eight figures on their checks!  Amazingly, some usually thoughtful commentators on the financial scene defended the bonuses, even under the frightful conditions. Thinking quickly of another 1978 film, Animal House,we might say to those bonus babies, “Thank you sir. May I have another?”

The situations are less raucous than Animal House, but Heaven Can Wait reflects a cynical spirit. The humor is delivered gently with the recognition of a larger truth. Certainly great lines and situations abound in the film and are seamlessly framed by co-directors Beatty and Buck Henry. The dominant situation is that of Joe Pendleton, victimized by the over eager escort. He faces a series of challenges as his soul enters a new body.  There is also a steep learning curve. Yet the Beatty character rolls with the punches. He has a goal in mind and aims to make it, even though he has to maneuver through the forces of heaven, earth and the NFL. Then too, he doesn’t know what to make of the body his soul has entered.

The body belonged to one Leo Farnsworth, the carniverous CEO of a multi-national corporation. He was killed by his wife, played by Dyan Cannon, and his executive secretary, played by Charles Grodin. The Cannon and Grodin characters were engaged in an adulterous affair (Beatty, most prescient, thought Republican types should be able to indulge in such as well). They wanted Farnsworth out of the way. So the deed was done and they believed Farnsworth to be dead. They only had to wait for a servant to find the body. Farnsworth had been drugged and was dying in his bathtub. But before any foul play could be discovered, Pendleton’s soul entered the body. Farnsworth, played by Beatty as well, climbed out of the tub, got dressed and headed downstairs, shocking his wife and executive secretary.

A bigger shock came to those working at Farnsworth’s corporation The CEO had changed. He became friendly and sweet-natured. The soul transplant had really taken hold. Farnsworth’s corporate concerns now went beyond profits. That confounded his officers and board members. When he spoke of environmental concerns and not wanting to hurt anyone with their industrial plans, he might as well have been speaking in tongues. Mysteries and trouble arise when faced with a good soul’s observations.

Farnsworth, whose own soul is in the hands of the Almighty, is suddenly guided by the sympathies of the politically naive mind of Joe Pendleton. But the mind is guided by the soul.  Profit & Loss sheets are not necessary to inform Pendleton of what’s right and what’s wrong. He struggles over corporation documents and learns that with every effort his companies take to expand their reach, communities and the environment are put at risk.

Farnsworth/Pendleton is befuddled. The corporation is successful, quite profitable. As an athlete, Pendleton knows that fans cheer success, but the corporation Farnsworth has led faces jeers, lawsuits and bad publicity. There has to be a way for his corporation to win, and in NFL parlance, go all the way to the Super Bowl. He and his corporate teammates huddling in the boardroom that week need a few winning plays. They need to play smart.

As the directors and officers are gathering for the board meeting, a crowd of reporters and advocates surround Farnsworth/Pendleton as he walks down the stairs. He hears the questions shouted by all those unhappy with his corporation’s business practices. One question is from a winsome young woman from the community of Pagelsham, England.  There are questions from the press. Knowing it would be wrong to cover up any kind of business activities, Farnsworth/Pendleton invites the crowd to join him, the directors, and the officers at the board meeting.

In the boardroom, Farnsworth/Pendleton does his best to make sense of the corporate legalese in the documents before him. He says, “We’ve even got some guy named Porpoises suing us.” An aide reminds him that one of their companies cans tuna and, in the netting process, they end up killing some porpoises. The aide caustically remarks that porpoises are alleged to be highly intelligent mammals. Farnsworth/Pendleton is bothered by the callous attitude just as much as he’s bothered by the likely environmental damage a planned refinery in England will cause. That winsome young woman from the English community of Pagelsham had visited him that week, demanding that the refinery not be built. Although winsome, the young woman, played by Julie Christie, was shrill. Farnsworth/Pendleton eventually begged her to “be quiet for a minute.” She calms down a bit and he hears her out. She influenced the approach he would take at the board meeting. He’s impressed with her dedication and her cause.  He’s also impressed with her.

At the meeting, the directors are astounded at the change they see in the Leo Farnsworth they thought they knew so well. They lecture Farnsworth/Pendleton on how things are. He knows better than this, they think. But as the old quarterback is about to be figuratively sacked behind the line of scrimmage, Farnsworth/Pendleton stands up in the pocket and fires away.  He asserts they have a successful and profitable company. This is not the time to be taking chances. Why antagonize potential customers and stockholders? Why not do things the right way? And why not let the public know they’ll do things the right way?

Pendleton gets back to the matter of the porpoises in his rambling but hearty discourse. This is where the larger truth resonates. Throughout the film Farnsworth/Pendleton has observed the not-so-honorable side of the business world.  Even though the executive secretary agrees that it’s wrong to leak news of a merger, the corporation does it anyway. The stock goes up. That’s why it’s done. Farnsworth/Pendleton claims the sugar deal with Haiti is no good.  Not necessarily the deal, just the sugar. Pendleton had been mindful of his own conditioning. He wanted nothing to do with the marketing of a product he finds bad for people. And oh yes, they’re killing porpoises. He sees a way out of this lousy situation. Go to the effort and expense to gather the tuna without imperiling the porpoises. He excitedly offers a plan, asking, “What if we had a good-guy tuna company that was on the porpoises team? A lot of the guys would buy that, so their kids wouldn’t get mad at them, right?”  He’s then asked about the expense of saving the porpoises. He answers, ”We don’t care how much it costs … just how much it makes. And if it costs too much, we charge a penny more. We make it a part of the game plan. Wouldn’t you pay a penny to save a fish that thinks?”  His costs estimates may be off but Farnsworth/Pendleton is aware of how companies benefit when perceived as ethical.

He expresses doubt over the safety of their nuclear power plants and, while at it, tells the assembled group they’ll just have to build that refinery somewhere else. This delights Bette Logan of Pagelsham, but even before the NIMBY movement went international, one could be sure the next community chosen for the refinery would rise up in opposition. So yes, there’s some political naivete at play here. The nuclear plants owned by Farnsworth’s company may not seem as threatening today as in 1978.; today even Thomas Friedman supports nuclear power. But remember this is a Hollywood comedy. If we delve too closely in reality, some of the fun will be missed.  So Farnsworth/Pendleton is exercising leadership. He wants his company to be accountable. And, surely, if his Good Guy Tuna Company idea failed, he wouldn’t expect a bonus. Farnsworth/Pendleton actually endorses what should be conservative business values.

Considering that directing duties were shared, Beatty and Henry delivered a well paced and consistently intriguing film. Even more commendable, the laugh-out-loud moments are spread throughout the film, not just its first half hour, rare for comedies. There are terrific performances from the great character actors Jack Warden and Vincent Gardenia. The ending is bittersweet. Joe Pendleton’s soul, in a perfectly timed situation, enters the body of another quarterback and leads his team to a Super Bowl victory. Much celebration ensues. Joe achieves his goal but there is certainly more mystery ahead. After the game, Mr. Jordan has one last talk with Joe. There is a plan and it must be followed.  Pendleton’s soul heads back to the celestial way station to finally make that one last connection.

An infusion of Joe Pendleton’s earnest qualities would enhance the hearts, souls and minds of many who shape our world. And think of this: It’s not just left-wingers from Hollywood like Warren Beatty who’ve long believed the privileged seek even more privileges. One of our country’s most renowned and beloved presidents had harsh words for those he called the malefactors of great wealth. Yes, that was President Roosevelt. Theodore Roosevelt, not Franklin. Theodore Roosevelt, the Republican Roosevelt. Yes, the Roosevelt that some Republicans claim as a hero when they delight in the imagery of the Rough Riders charging up San Juan Hill, but he’s also the Roosevelt who championed conservation and environmental protection. He’s the Roosevelt who proposed a federal inheritance tax. We can all be sure what Theodore Roosevelt would think of the Wall Street executives, bankers and other corporate leaders who so undeservedly received big bonuses. We also know that TR was a big game hunter. Many of the animals he captured and killed were donated to the Smithsonian and other museums to be stuffed and put on display.  Hmmm …  Okay, he wouldn’t go that far in expressing his outrage over the bonuses, but he would walk softly with that big stick and do more than just shake it. And as that most unique Republican would say, “Bully!”

Courage, Bravery, Redemption …Given the shakiness and downright deceit associated with today’s economy, Heaven Can Wait appears an even stronger film than in 1978, when it likely seemed a comedy with scattered messages. It’s not in the style of film John Ford made, but collectively much of what’s in the film brings to mind the moral clarity associated with his works.

In his song, Complicated Shadows, Elvis Costello wrote, “You can say just what you like, in a voice like a John Ford film.” Costello allows that Ford’s characters did not mince their words. It’s like the words of Tom Joad, in Ford’s  The Grapes of Wrath, when he laments his Depression-era adversaries,”They’re working away our spirits, tryin’ to make us cringe and crawl, takin’ away our decency.” Words like that make you pay attention and remember what was said, just as those spoken by Ward Bond in Ford’s They Were Expendable, ”I’m not going to make a speech, I’ve just got something to say.”

This is a revised and expanded version of the story, “Lessons From The Movies,” first posted on August 15, 2009.

About Jeff Cochran

Jeff Cochran worked in advertising at The Atlanta Journal-Constitution for 27 years before accepting a buy-out in the Summer of 2008. In the seventies/early eighties, he handled advertising for Peaches Records and Tapes' Southeastern and Midwestern stores. He also wrote record reviews for The Great Speckled Bird, a ground-breaking underground newspaper based in Atlanta.

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