Sometimes the storms of life, big and small, can feel overwhelming. That’s true even on a little Kansas farm. And it’s oh-so true for a young farmgirl named Dorothy Gale.
Dorothy’s biggest storm at this moment is an ongoing squabble with the mean old Miss Gulch, who lives down the road. Dorothy’s dog, Toto, nipped at the old lady when she hit him with a rake. (Wouldn’t you nip, too, if you were a tiny, defenseless dog?) And now Miss Gulch wants to put the sweet pup down. She even got a police order to do just that.
Unfortunately, Dorothy’s beloved Auntie Em and Uncle Henry can’t help with the problem. It is the Sheriff’s order after all. So, while dreaming of a place where troubles and people like Miss Gulch don’t exist, Dorothy grabs her little dog and runs away.
However, even running away isn’t without problems. Actually, it can be quite the opposite. So when the skies turn dark and the winds start to howl, Dorothy stops running away and starts running for home, with a tornado blowing at her heels. And with a whoosh she and their farmhouse are swept up into the storm’s swirling, violent winds.
Dorothy and Toto are shaken and tossed about. And then the house thumps down with a ferocious crash!
Dorothy pulls herself up and stumbles out her front door, and she can only gasp in surprise. “We’re not in Kansas anymore,” the teen whispers to her little dog as she looks around at the surrounding flowers and greenery. It’s all so colorful, so bright, so wonderful.
Could this be the place somewhere over a rainbow that Dorothy had wished for? Is this the land free from Gulches and troubles, she wonders. That’s when Dorothy notices that her house has crashed down on a person, no, a witch. A witch with ruby slippers.
What’s that old saying: Out of the frying pan, into the fire? Yes, that’s the phrase that comes to mind here. For it appears that, despite all the wonder around her, Dorothy may be in for a whole new round of stormy troubles.
And these are troubles of a magical kind, filled with witches, flying monkeys and a wizard named Oz.
Making friends with people who care for and help one another is a major focus in this film. Dorothy meets some odd denizens of the magical land of Oz, including a living scarecrow, a tin man, and a talking lion. Together, this mismatched group draws close and helps one another with emotional and physical issues.
Dorothy also speaks repeatedly about her family back home: her Auntie Em and Uncle Henry. And she longs to return to them, not only because she’s worried about their wellbeing, but because they offer the firm anchor of comfort and love in her life. (The movie never explains what happened to the teen’s mom or dad, by way.)
Dorothy’s friends are each seeking something they lack: the Scarecrow, a brain; the Lion, bravery; and the Tin Man, a heart. Later on, the Tin Man describes his idea of what it is to have “a heart” in this way: “A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others,” he declares.
The film also makes clear statements about the nature of right and wrong, about good and evil. The good people (in the form of small munchkins, Glinda the Good Witch and talking animals) are supportive, caring and giving (like Dorothy herself). And the bad individuals (such as the Wicked Witch of the West) are generally hurtful and power-hungry people who are totally oblivious to the miseries of others.
Early on, Auntie Em is quite frustrated with the bothersome Miss Gulch. And she tells the cranky woman: “For 23 years I’ve been dying to tell you what I thought of you. And now, being a Christian woman, I can’t say it!”
While fleeing, Dorothy runs across a traveling fortune teller named Professor Marvel. This flim-flam-man steers her to a crystal ball. He says that it’s “the same genuine magic, authentic crystal used by the priests of Isis and Osiris in the days of the Pharaoh of Egypt.
Oz, of course, is a magical land. It’s a place of concocted spells, power-infused ruby slippers and witches who float about in bubbles and fly on broomsticks. And those powers are used for both good and evil.
The Wicked Witch, for instance, grinds up ingredients in a mortar and pestle to magically cast across a field of poppies. The Scarecrow calls the results a spell, but the witch tells a flying monkey minion that it’s a poison that will cause the heroes to fall into a deep sleep. And then Glinda waves her wand and causes a snowstorm that wakes the sleeping heroes when they succumb to the spell.
Elsewhere, the Wicked Witch throws a ball of fire, disappears in a puff of green smoke and so on. In another instance, the Tin Man gets swept up into the air as if by ghosts and the cowardly Lion whispers over and over, “I do believe in spooks!”
The ruby slippers, which magically appear on Dorothy’s feet after her house crashes down on the Wicked Witch of the East, are said to be filled with magic as well. But Dorothy doesn’t have the ability to use until Glinda instructs her on how to use them to transport herself back home.
[Spoiler Warning] Eventually we learn that Dorothy’s whole trip was just a dream. She was hit on the head during the tornado and knocked unconscious. So the whole magical trip was in her fevered imagination. And all the people there were dream-reflections of people she knew or met in the real world.
The Lion sings about wanting to be brave, but he worries that he’s just a “dandy lion” (sung with an effeminate flip of his wrist).
While The Wizard of Oz isn’t filled with violent images, there are still some moments of peril in the mix.
For instance, early on Miss Gulch takes Toto and is intent on having him “put down,” and her Oz counterpart (the Wicked Witch) declares her desire to do the same thing. We’re told that she also hit Toto with a rake.
Then the tornado rips up much of the farm and a ripped off window hits Dorothy in the head. As mentioned, when Dorothy’s farmhouse crashes down in Oz, it lands on a witch. We only see her feet and slippers sticking out from beneath the building. And then when the slippers magically move to Dorothy’s feet, the witch’s stocking-covered feet roll up and disappear. When the Wicked Witch of the West later tries to take the slippers from Dorothy, she is zapped with an electric-like shock.
The Wicked Witch of the West threatens to kill Dorothy. She throws a fireball at Dorothy and friends, causes trees to come to life and grab at them, drugs them with a sleeping potion, sends evil flying monkeys to tear the Scarecrow into pieces, and later sets the hay-filled guy on fire.
The Scarecrow, Tin Man and Lion also get into a fight with three guards from the witch’s castle. The battle is offscreen, but we then see the good guys step out wearing the guards’ uniforms. The Tin Man chops into a door with his axe.
[Spoiler Warning] Eventually, however, it’s the Wicked Witch who is killed. While trying to save a burning Scarecrow, Dorothy splashes water on the witch. And the evil woman melts away.
The closest that the dialogue comes to foul language is in exclamations such as “Jiminy Crickets,” “Shucks” and, “You humbug!”
As mentioned above, the Wicked Witch grinds up a magical poison. When being cleaned up in the city of Oz, the Lion appears to be sipping an adult beverage.
When we first meet the Wizard of Oz, he’s very much a conman who uses special mechanisms to manipulate others, exactly like his flim-flam-man counterpart whom Dorothy meets in the real-world. But we eventually learn that even someone like that can have a heart of gold.
MGM’s 1939 musical The Wizard of Oz, based on L. Frank Baum’s children’s book, is seen these days as an iconic slice of American film history. It’s colorful and filled with lovely tunes and memorable performances. But this pic’s trip to that respected pinnacle was, well, no easygoing yellow brick road.
Myriad stories of turmoil during this pic’s production range from horrible on-set injuries, to actors fainting from the blazing hot lighting required for its Technicolor technology. Oh, and just before the movie’s release, MGM executives were determined to cut the song “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” believing it slowed things down too much.
On top of those and other production troubles, The Wizard of Oz was then released during the early days of World War II. It was quickly categorized as, well, a failure. One highly respected East Coast newspaper labeled it a “stinkeroo.” And because of the film’s high production costs, it lost a million dollars at the box office its first year; a studio deficit it didn’t make up until the 1940s.
Despite all of that headwind, though, The Wizard of Oz now regularly sails onto lists of the best films of all time. It’s No. 10 on the American Film Institute’s prestigious list of the top 100 films of all time. And many consider it one of those rare instances where the film actually improves upon the book from which it came.
Many have even mused over the various meanings behind Dorothy Gale’s trip to Oz, ranging from concepts of political populism to thoughts about spiritual enlightenment. Judy Garland’s Dorothy is, after all, the quintessential Kansas girl-next-door, lifting her beautiful voice heavenward and seeking a place where “the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.”
But, if you sit down with the kids and take this film at face value, what you’ll find is something simple and sweet.
Dorothy does indeed long for a better place when she’s confronted by the difficulties of life. But with the help of good friends and a longing for the family that loves her best, she faces every scary danger that comes her way. Those scares include being lost in a strange place and facing a sharp-clawed, cackling witch (both the stuff of childhood nightmares). And those flying monkeys, of course, which might be a bit on the intense side for very young or sensitive viewers.
In the end, Dorothy realizes that being wise, being brave and cherishing others are all worthy pursuits. And home is the place where she can always find support, always find love. In fact, she declares that home is the foundation for her future dreams.
That sweet, family-focused sentiment, that purity of spirit and love, isn’t something we often see in today’s films. Hey, even back in 1939, the filmmakers suggested it was stuff for “the young at heart” in the film’s introduction screen.
But, let’s face it, it’s also the stuff that most people long for deep down. And it’s what makes this film a treasured bit of entertainment.
After spending more than two decades touring, directing, writing and producing for Christian theater and radio (most recently for Adventures in Odyssey, which he still contributes to), Bob joined the Plugged In staff to help us focus more heavily on video games. He is also one of our primary movie reviewers.
