The Wizard of Oz is based on L. Frank Baum's novel "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz," first published in 1900. Its story of a young girl whisked away to a magical land by a Kansas tornado and desperate to get home is among the most well known and recognized tales in movie history. The film, celebrating it's 70th anniversary in 2009, retains all the wonder, joy and magic it must have brought to audiences in 1939 with one exception: the politics of the piece. And that isn't a problem with the film itself; the issue is with squarely with the audience.
It is remarkable to think Oz clocks in at 103 minutes. In reality, it never feels that long, thanks to light and breezy musical numbers and absolutely stellar performances by the four lead actors. From their singing ability to breathtaking dance skills, Judy Garland, Ray Bolger, Bert Lahr and Jack Haley bring a sense of fun to the story which tends to touch on darker themes every once in a while. Each of the characters Dorothy (Garland) meets in Oz represents a different part of her psyche. For example, the Cowardly Lion personifies the girl's underlying fear at losing the only family she has. She is constantly told at the outset by Aunt Em to stay out of the way, constantly shunted to the side. While the effect is not intended, what ends up happening is a gradual psychological beat down over time, making her feel as though she's not smart enough to compete...sound like the Scarecrow to anyone? And because she runs away from home, supposedly causing her aunt's heart problems, there is the fear Dorthy lacks a heart.
But back to those personal interactions for a moment. There is such a sense of joviality to the fantasy characters which everyone on set completely buys into. Garland's reactions may appear stilted in 2009, but for a film personae in 1939, they are right on. See, she plays Dorothy without a lick of pretension as a naive Midwestern girl with a bright-eyed enthusiasm the audience can't help but find endearing. As our proxy, Dorothy allows herself to be taken in by this world, process the environment and completely move onto her larger goal. When the supporting cast are added in-especially her comrades-they play off of one another like old friends. There's a warmth between each of them on varying levels, ranging from a brother/sister dynamic (with the Scarecrow) to a mother/son version (the Lion).
Why exactly does the movie move so gosh darn quickly? Certainly the various musical numbers have something to do with it, but there's something much more basic at work. It just so happens that, when a we're engaged in an enjoyable experience, we don't realize just how much time has passed. (The opposite, the more excruciating the experience, the slower time seems to pass, is also true.) The film wastes little time in creating the rules of the world, specifically that of black and white Kansas, before moving headlong into the Technicolor utopia of Oz. It can be argued certain characters are merely plot devices and deserve at least some small amount of actual development, but that's beside the point. Each scene moves the story forward in some way. One gets the feeling anything not doing so was cut or simply not filmed in order to get the film to Oz as quickly as possible.
A while ago, I did mention the politics of the movie. Some historians have labeled various elements using 1939 as a reference point. Dorothy being the naive American people, led down the wrong path and forced to find it again. The wizard has been compared to President William McKinley; the latter has been called a wizard in the parlance of the day while the former can be seen as a president. The problem with interpreting the movie this way is it will lose any and all charm. Forget the fact the people of 2009 are not as versed in history as we probably should be. When you start to dissect something so completely, the magic-the fun-is ruined and impossible to get back.
Looking at the film from 70 years out, each of the photographic tricks used to generate the effects are quite easy to see through. All of the plants in Oz has an unnatural sheen to it, a clear indication they're not real. The matte painting backgrounds have absolutely no depth to them while the Wicked Witch of the West's smoke plume entrances and exits revolve around an elevator hidden under the stage (we can see the differently colored floor tiles). Does any of this really matter? Not in the slightest. There's a reason this movie has survived and thrived for as long as it has. It can be criticized, but what's the point?