Calamity Jane Blu-ray Movie

Rating summary

Movie		3.0
Video		4.5
Audio		4.0
Extras		2.0
Overall		3.5

Calamity Jane Blu-ray Movie Review

Bring on the Sasparilly

Reviewed by Michael Reuben March 4, 2015

For anyone who watched HBO's Deadwood, the name "Calamity Jane" should conjure up an image of the foul-mouthed, mud-caked, perpetually hungover layabout portrayed by Robin Weigert, whose only trace of femininity showed in an occasional glimpse of sympathy for the other women in town. She knew and admired Keith Carradine's Wild Bill Hickok, but they weren't exactly the best of friends.

This isn't that Calamity Jane. It isn't even that Deadwood. You won't find local tavern owner Al Swearingen cursing up a storm while scheming against his enemies and presiding over a stable of whores, although this 1953 film is just as politically incorrect, for entirely different reasons. No, this version of Calamity Jane (or "Calam", as everyone calls her) is strictly G-rated, even though the film predates the current MPAA system. She's played by Doris Day, she sings and dances (both beautifully), and Bill Hickok is one of her closest friends—and much more, as anyone who knows the tropes of romantic comedy can spot in an instant. Both the saloon and the town in which this version of Calamity tells her tall tales look much cleaner and well-kept than the one portrayed on cable TV half a century later. In fact, they look an awful lot like Hollywood soundstages straight from the formula "oaters" cranked out as B-pictures throughout the Forties and Fifties, right down to the generic Native Americans in feathers and war paint.

Calamity Jane was Warner's response to MGM's successful 1950 musical, Annie Get Your Gun, loosely based on the life of Annie Oakley. Warner was savvy enough to hire Annie's male lead, Howard Keel, to star as Wild Bill Hickok in Calamity, and the film succeeded on the pairing of Keel and Doris Day, winning an Oscar for the song "Secret Love" by Sammy Fain and Paul Francis Webster, which became a hit recording for Day. She later said that Calamity Jane was her favorite of her screen roles.

Donned in buckskins and packing a pistol, Calamity Jane (Day) rides into town with the stagecoach, spinning tall tales of the "injun" attacks she fended off during the trip. Since her penchant for exaggeration is well-known, along with her quick-triggered temper when anyone questions her veracity, the townspeople generally humor her. A big exception is her old friend and long-time sparring partner, Wild Bill Hickok (Keel).

Saloon owner Henry Miller (Paul Harvey) is distraught when he discovers that the showgirl he thought he'd booked, Frances Fryer, is really Francis Fryer (Dick Wesson), a man. The mostly male population of Deadwood is starved for female entertainment. Their current obsession is a famous performer from the East named Adelaid Adams (Gale Robbins), of whom they have only seen a picture. In a moment of hubris, "Calam" says she'll fetch Miss Adams to Deadwood from her current booking in Chicago (or, in Calam's pronunciation "Chicag-y"). Bill helpfully suggests that, while Calamity is in the big city, she should pay attention to how the other women dress. After all, she needs to do something about her appearance if she hopes to attract the handsome soldier from the nearby fort on whom she's set her heart, Lt. Danny Gilmartin (Philip Carey). As if rescuing him from capture by an "injun" war party weren't enough.

Old Chicago may be a city to Calamity's eyes, but it's still a frontier town by modern standards. Still, the excursion provides opportunities for sight gags ("Scalps!" says the frontier woman, when she spots wigs in a store window), plus a classic case of mistaken identity. When Calamity misses Adelaid Adams at the theater, she finds the actress' ladies maid, Katie Brown (Allyn Ann McLerie), an aspiring performer herself, who has just been left behind while the star tours Europe. On an impulse, Katie Brown decides to impersonate her former mistress so that she can finally have her chance to take the stage before a real, live audience instead of her own reflection in the mirror.

From here, the rest of the story unfolds with the inevitability of arithmetic. Katie Brown can't maintain her masquerade for long, but she's a hit anyway. Lt. Danny falls for Katie, not Calamity, who blows a gasket, only to be comforted, then loved by . . . does anyone need this spelled out? As Byron put it, "all tragedies are finished by a death; all comedies are ended by a marriage". Calamity Jane is definitely a comedy.

Doris Day remains the film's number one attraction, closely followed by her male lead. The Fain and Webster songs may not rank at the top of the American songbook, but a number like "I Just Flew in from the Windy City" provides a performer of Day's caliber with showstopping possibilities of which she takes full advantage. She and Keel make their battling duet ("I Can Do Without You") far more entertaining than it deserves to be, and the pre-feminist duet with McLerie ("A Woman's Touch") can be enjoyed for the sheer gusto of the two singers, not to mention the set decorating magic that transforms a broken-down shack into a neat country home in minutes. The "guest" solos performed by Wesson ("Hive Full of Honey") and McClerie ("Keep It Under Your Hat") are entertaining enough, but it's Keel ("Higher than a Hawk") and Day ("Secret Love") who are unmistakably the stars.

Calamity Jane Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

Shot by Wilfred M. Cline, whose credits include everything from Lullaby of Broadway to The Tingler, Calamity Jane has been remastered by Warner's on-site facility, MPI, for this 1080p, AVC-encoded Blu-ray, which features a rock-solid, fully resolved and detailed image. Colors are exceptionally vibrant and bright, so that, e.g., the transformation wrought on Jane's dusty wreck of a cabin during "A Woman's Touch" is particularly striking. Doris Day's pearly whites, brighter and shinier than any that could have existed on the Western frontier, gleam as she sings, and individual faces in the often raucous audience at the Golden Garter are readily discernible. Even in the obvious day-for-night sequences, detail remains impressive. The grain pattern is fine and film-like without any trace of artificial sharpening.

With limited extras, all in standard definition, Warner has placed the 101-minute film on a BD-25, with an average bitrate of 21.93. The black pillarbox bars are a benefit, and the compressionist appears to have allocated bits appropriately to avoid any artifacts.

Calamity Jane Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

The film's original mono soundtrack has been encoded as lossless DTS-HD MA 1.0, and it sounds remarkably good: clean, clear, free of noise and distortion, with both dialogue and lyrics easily intelligible. The orchestra does not have the presence or dynamic range that one would experience with either a stereo or a multi-channel recording, but neither does it sound distant or tinny. For the era, this is a fine reproduction.

Calamity Jane Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

The newsreels and trailer have been ported over from Warner's 2005 DVD of Calamity Jane. The "Joe McDoakes" short and "Merrie Melody" have been added for Blu-ray.

• So You Love Your Dog (480i; 1.37:1; 10:03): A "Joe McDoakes" short from 1953, this installment features Sgt. Joe in the Army during World War II accompanied by his not-so-faithful dog, Dusty, followed by the pair's adjustment to civilian life. And then comes the war in Korea . . .



• Duck Dodgers in the 24 ½th Century (480i; 1.37:1; 7:04): A classic Chuck Jones "Merrie Melody" from 1952.



• Western Style Premiere (480i; 1.37:1; 0:44): A newsreel clip of Calamity Jane's premiere in Rapid City, South Dakota.



• Photoplay Magazine's Film Awards (480i; 1.37:1; 0:51): In the days before awards show broadcasts, they had newsreels.



• Theatrical Trailer (480i; 1.37:1; 3:01): "There never was a glibber fibber nor a cuter shooter . . . "

Calamity Jane Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

Calamity Jane will not cure musical-haters of their allergy to the genre. It's a classic example that relies so heavily on musical theater conventions that you almost expect to catch a glimpse of a conductor beating time near the bottom of the frame. Anyone who cast Doris Day in a film understood her appeal as a singer. Even Alfred Hitchcock was savvy enough to have her sing "Que Sera Sera" in The Man Who Knew Too Much. Her portrayal of "Calam" may not be historically accurate (is anyone's?), but it's Ms. Day at her most winning. For fans, Warner's Blu-ray is highly recommended.