Johnny Tremain (1957)

Ah, this feels good.  We’re taking a little break from the Wild West and Old Squinty.  We’re getting a little action, a little adventure, and a little history while we’re at it.   So if  ye be Sons of Liberty, raise the flag of freedom high for Johnny Tremain!

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Johnny Tremain by Esther Forbes is a mainstay on elementary and middle school reading lists.  And for good reason: it’s a great look at what life was  like for the average teen in the days before and during the American Revolution.  I found it engaging even as an adult, and I never read it in school!  It fits right in with Walt’s love of American history and a good story, and it’s no wonder he chose to adapt it.  And the enjoyment I got from the book is a great sign for the movie!

The main thing I got was that this film is the Disney debut of Robert Stevenson, one of the most financially successful directors in film history.  We’ll see a lot of him over the next two decades, notably as the director of Mary Poppins and Bedknobs and Broomsticks.  Johnny Tremain was designed to be a mini-series on the Disneyland TV show like Davy Crockett, but Walt decided to release it in theatres first.  This contributes to the episodic nature of the film, which is split into two distinct halves.  I feel like this is the case for Westward Ho as well, but I didn’t see anything to confirm that.  It’s just a thing in the late ’50’s, I guess.  Johnny Tremain was a mild financial success with good reviews and quite a large merchandise presence.  Despite being largely forgotten, it’s still shown in schools today.

STORY

As the movie opens, a fancy carriage rattles through some matte paintings of Boston. A liveried slave boy hops out and boy are we getting our cringe out of the way early. His master, introduced as Johnathan Lyte, enters the shop of Ephraim Lapham. Without skipping a beat he orders a teapot that absolutely has to be finished by next Monday. Lapham’s daughter and granddaughter watch the exchange with excitement because a job well done for a rich client could be huge for their little shop. Lapham, however, is nervous about doing something so intricate at his age. His apprentice, the titular Johnny Tremain, jumps in to promise Lyte that it’ll be done. Lyte sneers at Lapham for letting his apprentice speak out of turn, but he got the answer he wanted so he leaves. Lapham scolds Johnny, who shoots back with the classic plucky Disney hero line about how he can do anything if he’s just given a chance. On his way out of the room, Lapham quotes Scripture at him: pride goeth before a fall. Honestly, I wouldn’t exactly call this pride, not like in the book. Dude needs to loosen up.

Johnny sits down to examine the pitcher Lyte left for them to use as a model. Lapham’s grandaughter, Cilla, laughs at him for being arrogant, which are lines from the book but don’t fit very well here because again, he’s not really being super arrogant. Johnny’s not offended though, and the two start flirting back and forth while Lapham gets to work. He’s not satisfied with it, so Johnny offers to take it to Paul Revere for help. Cilla asks what’s so special about this teapot and the audience is informed that Lyte is their landlord. Subtle exposition!  As Johnny works, Cilla notices a little sketch next to his hand: a rising sun with the letters J.L.T. Johnny writes it off saying it’s the mark he wants to use in his own shop someday, but Cilla’s too smart for that. She recognizes Lyte’s family crest, prompting Johnny to spill a little secret: he’s related to the Lytes. He’s not sure exactly how, but his mother was some kind of relation and she apprenticed Johnny to a silversmith so he wouldn’t have to ride the coattails of his rich family. She even gave him a cup with the family crest so he can prove it. On her deathbed, she made Johnny promise that he’d never tell anyone unless he was in a really, really dire situation.

Against his master’s wishes, Johnny heads out to find Paul Revere. He’s not home, so he goes to the nearby printing press where he’s apparently visiting. While he waits for Revere to come down from his meeting, Johnny reads some of the papers the apprentice is working on. Nosy little brat. Rab, the apprentice, explains that the notice is a call to arms against a shipment of tea being brought into the harbor and subjected to a heavy tax against the colonists’ wishes. He and the other Sons of Liberty are using the paper as a front to spread the idea of freedom from England. Johnny scoffs that politics are way over his head and he’ll stick to silver, thanks. Just then, Rab’s Uncle Nat and Paul Revere, among others, come downstairs after finishing their meeting. Johnny asks to speak with Revere, who is happy to oblige.

Johnny asks Revere what all this fuss is over tea, but the only answer he gets is the same one Rab gave: it’s not about the tea. Then they get back to business. Johnny took the time to copy the cream pitcher’s intricate handle to use for the teapot, but he’s not happy with it. Revere has a look and decides that the handle looks fine but the proportions are a little wonky. He sketches a better version for Johnny to use as a model. I guess in the 1700s competition wasn’t a big deal. Late that night, Lapham catches Johnny still hard at work on the teapot. Apparently this is a very bad thing because it’s Bible time and his soul is more important than money. Cilla and her mother protest because messing up a commission for your landlord is also not good but Lapham is a man and therefore he’s right. It’s still 1957, after all. He slams the Bible down on Johnny’s workstation and tells him to read a passage about the dangers of pride. Again, this is a big part of his book characterization but he’s not nearly as arrogant here so it falls a little flat.

The next day is Sunday, and in uber-religious colonial Boston, it’s illegal to work on the Sabbath. However, Lyte wants his teapot on Monday and it’s not finished yet.  Everyone who has their priorities straight waits for Lapham to be out of sight then springs into action.  Cilla keeps watch, Mrs. Lapham stokes the fire, and Johnny works the silver because as Disney themselves taught us, you’re only in trouble if you get caught.  Suddenly, Cilla screams out that the constable is about to pass by.  In her haste to douse the fire and hide the evidence, Mrs. Lapham bumps the molten silver with her hip and spills it… all over Johnny’s hand.  Of course, the Hayes Code is still in effect, preventing us from seeing the actual injury, but the way Cilla screams would suggest that it’s bad.  Real bad.

Johnny’s hand is heavily bandaged as he meanders through the streets of Boston.  Rab runs into him, carrying a gun to make sure the tea stays on the ship. The British Admiral Montague drops by with a friendly greeting for the boys and some advice on how Rab should be holding his gun. I mentioned this in The Great Locomotive Chase, but it’s kind of nice to see the losing side portrayed so kindly. History is, of course, written by the victors, and so often this comes off as the British or the Confederacy or whoever being written as irredeemably evil. That’s not how life is or was and it’s always pretty cool to see it. Anyway, Montague lets slip that there are British marines living in Boston but people would lose their minds if they were seen. Rab offers Johnny a place in the rebellion even with his injured hand, but Johnny gets really savage out of absolutely nowhere. A simple no would have sufficed. And it’s really the only time his nasty attitude from the book shows, so it’s really out of place.

Mrs. Lapham wastes no time in getting on Johnny’s case when he returns home with the charcoal he was sent to fetch. Apparently he took too long. She’s nasty to him now that he’s injured and can’t contribute to the household, which, may I remind you, was entirely her fault. Cilla jumps to his defense, reminding her that he can’t do much work with his hand in such bad shape. This only serves to make her mother angrier. Mrs. Lapham demands for Johnny to unwrap his hand so she can “do something about it”. I’m not sure what she had in mind, but it doesn’t sound good. Johnny does, however, unwrap his hand and we get a split seconds’ special effects failure of his hand doused in red paint before we cut to a reaction shot of Cilla being so horrified by the sight she flings herself across the room. It’s not the best acting, that’s all I’m going to say. Oh, and his fingers have fused together. So that’s delightful.

One thing’s for sure: Johnny will never be a silversmith in this condition. Mrs. Lapham decides she’s going to toss him out if he can’t make himself useful, but her father intervenes. He hasn’t punished Johnny for breaking the Sabbath because God’s already done that. He wants Johnny to find a new job ASAP, to his daughter’s satisfaction… but he agrees that Johnny can still live in their house as long as he needs. This is very nice of him, but Johnny is too proud to accept their charity. He packs his stuff and leaves, ignoring Cilla’s pleas for him to stay. The job hunt doesn’t go well. Everyone he meets either needs a hale and whole apprentice or reminds Johnny of his injury somehow or other. Like any good Disney hero, he flings himself onto the nearest bench to mope. If this movie were animated, you can bet there would be a song here. It’s that kind of scene.

Lyte’s carriage clatters past Johnny’s bench of sadness, which gives Johnny an idea. He’s not supposed to do this unless he has no other options but he’s kinda reached that point so he approaches. Lyte sneers that he’s the boy who ruined his teapot which should be the first clue that this won’t go the way Johnny wants, but Johnny keeps going. With most naïve, innocent little face I have ever seen, he reintroduces himself as Jonathan Lyte Tremain. Lyte is being 100% sarcastic when he sneers that his dead mother must have told him that because he’s heard this before from more than one greedy street rat looking for a cut of his money. Bless his little heart, Johnny tells him that’s exactly what happens and pulls out his mother’s cup as proof. Unimpressed, Lyte gets back into his carriage and gets ready to ride off, but not before inviting Johnny to his manor. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, for starters, he’s greeted by the little slave boy with the terrible accent. I mean, it’s like Song of the South levels of bad without the grand acting to back it up. Luckily, he’s only there for like two seconds but it’s baaaad. He leads Johnny into Lyte’s parlor where the man himself is chatting with his friend. Lyte takes Johnny’s cup and puts it on his mantle with three identical ones, questioning how Johnny got it. Poor, stupid, naïve little Johnny repeats that his dead mom gave it to him. Well, it just so happens that last August, someone broke into Lyte’s house and stole one of the cups. His friend is the constable and the whole thing was a setup to arrest Johnny! Who would have expected this to go sideways?

Johnny languishes in his cell, wondering how his life went so wrong and why his last chance failed. But Rab pops up and everything’s okay because the jailer is a Son of Liberty! So is Josiah Quincy, the best lawyer around, who is happy to take Johnny’s case pro bono. After all, a Son of Liberty fights all injustice no matter how small, even if it’s happening to some idiot kid who totally did it to himself. I mean, come on, the dude’s a jerk. Why would he help you? At the trial, Quincy goes over Lyte’s family history: there were four brothers, each of whom was given a cup at birth. Lyte has them because all his brothers have died and he’s the last one left… but there was secretly a sister, and therefore a fifth cup. This leads to Lyte losing his everloving mind, screaming about how it’s an outrage to even consider him being related to an icky poor person. Seriously, why the kid wants to be related to him is a mystery for the ages. Quincy calls him out on being a dbag and Lyte has the gall to say he’s never been prejudiced against anyone in his life, just like corrupt businessmen today!

It gets worse. He starts raging about how Johnny deserves the death penalty. And… dude. It’s a cup. You are ordering a boy put to death over a cup.  Luckily, Quincy is not insane and reminds Lyte that that’s not his call to make. He calls Cilla to the stand and asks her where and when she saw Johnny’s cup. The title card at the beginning of the film said July 1773, so how could Johnny have stolen it in August? But Lyte’s more of an “alternative facts” kind of guy, snapping that Johnny’s clearly a bad person because he broke the Sabbath and Cilla’s only defending him because she’s in love with him. Oh, and she’s an icky female so he doesn’t have to listen to her. Cilla stands up to him- her landlord!- because it was his order that resulted in Johnny hurting his hand. Her courage impresses the judge and he clears Johnny of all charges. There was no evidence anyway.

Just like they do in approximately a third of the book, Rab and Johnny hang around the printer’s shop eating bread and cheese.  Johnny thanks Rab for the kindness the Sons of Liberty have shown him and offers to return the favor.  This isn’t strictly necessary, but Rab has an idea anyway.  He takes him out to meet his uncle’s adorable black pony, Goblin. Who is adorable. He’s also really skittish and will panic at anything and everything. Johnny has never ridden a horse before, but he just knows he can manage it, so Rab teaches him to ride. To Johnny’s credit, no matter how many times he gets thrown, he gets right back up. The kid’s persistent.

Finally, he makes it through the whole track, proof Goblin trusts him. Rab announces to his uncle that Johnny’s going to be their horseboy and ride around Boston to deliver messages. Johnny takes the opportunity to ask exactly what these messages contain and what all the secrecy’s about. Rab pulls a medallion out of his shirt that bears the symbol of the Sons of Liberty: the Liberty Tree. The Boston Observer is their paper and the meetings are where they make their decisions. They don’t keep any records for security purposes, but the members emerge one by one as if on cue so Johnny can memorize their names.  It’s actually pretty funny how loudly the movie’s screaming “look at all these famous people!”

Rab’s uncle emerges to fetch punch for the net meeting. He’s not fooled at all by Johnny’s offer to take it for him, but he relents pretty easily and lets Johnny and Rab upstairs to see what’s going on. They’re waiting for the governor to answer whether or not he’s going to take that tea shipment (remember that?) back to England. Adams is going to make a speech at the local church and hide a signal to the Sons of Liberty in it… but how will they hear him from outside the church? The answer lies in the boy who’s not technically supposed to be up there. Adams gives Johnny a whistle to blow if he hears a certain phrase in his speech and that’s the signal. Very subtle. Very secret. Good job. Mr. “You can keep your politics” is all in on this revolutionary business now and they all drink a toast for good luck.

Later that night, Adams’ speech is in full swing. Rab and the other Sons of Liberty are busy disguising themselves rather badly as Native Americans. I want to be mad at this but this happened in real life but it wasn’t okay then either and aaargh conflict. At least it’s not as bad as Lyte’s footman. The governor’s answer comes in the middle of the speech and Adams says the secret code. Johnny bolts out to blow that whistle for all he’s worth and the Sons spring into action. As they all march in droves past the Liberty Tree, Rab paints Johnny’s face to match everyone else. Meanwhile, Admiral Montague and Lyte hang out on the porch talking about how nice and peaceful it is and how there’s nooooo trouble on the docks whatsoever. Oh, and Lyte paid the governor not to send the tea back. Otherwise, he would totally have done it. How dare you.

At that exact second, the Sons of Liberty make it onto the ship. Adams stands there without any disguise at all, reminding everyone not to hurt anyone or touch anything but the tea. Lyte’s jaw drops. He orders the Admiral to do something, but the Admiral finds all this hilarious. Adams very politely asks for the keys from the ship’s captain, which he gives without even an argument. Somehow, Warren decides this fraught, emotionally charged, historical moment is the perfect time to offer to fix Johnny’s hand. Not the time, my man. It’s the beginning of the Boston Tea Party! And of course, everyone grabs the tea and tosses it into the harbor. Lyte is apoplectic at the money he’s losing but Montague is still having a great time. The Sons of Liberty even clean up after themselves! For some reason, they brought fifers and drummers with them so they could sing a whole big song about how they’re the Sons of Liberty throughout the streets of Boston. Even Cilla joins in. This is not how you run a secret society, kids. Anyway, they hang lanterns from the Liberty Tree to announce to all that they’re not going to take this tyrrany anymore. It’s actually a rather beautiful moment.

The next part of our tale opens on Spring 1775, two years after the first part.  It’s really obvious here that the movie was intended as part of a miniseries.  In response to the Boston Tea Party, British soldiers have overrun all of Boston as an intimidation tactic. One would think we’d return to our hero to see how he feels about this new development. Nope. We follow Dr. Warren instead as he meets with the British General Gage under the impression that he needs medical advice. He does not, in fact. He wants to talk about the rebellion. He’s not such a bad guy, though. He wants to leave as badly as the Sons of Liberty want him and his men to leave, and he understands that all the people want is to maintain a level of human dignity. However, he’s got orders from King George himself to prevent all trade from reaching Boston until the colonists have paid off that tea and stopped talking about rebellion. The Sons would have to give up their arms and quietly pay their taxes. Warren is not about to do that, thanks, so he leaves.

Now we get back to our hero! Johnny’s hanging out in Lyte’s carriage, and Lyte himself is all smiles when he greets him. So either he got swapped with a pod person or something really major shifted in the intervening two years. As it turns out, Lyte is planning on returning to England since he can’t do any trade during this blockade. After all, why does he deserve to be punished for all the damages the Sons of Liberty caused? By this point, Johnny has totally drunk the Kool-Aid and decided it’s worth it if it means people protect their rights. Lyte has not, in fact, been replaced by a pod person because he immediately starts freaking out about how Johnny’s just a lying criminal and doesn’t he understand what this is doing to the poor rich people. Apparently he was going to ask if Johnny wanted to come with him and live as his nephew but somehow he spins this as him being a victim. Johnny, too, recognizes that that would have been a terrible idea and that this guy’s a jerk. He doesn’t even care about Lyte’s warning that the rebels are going to hang. He just gives the cup back because his heritage is not worth having to put up with this guy. And good riddance.

During a Sons of Liberty meeting, Rab works on rallying the young people of Boston. Among the gathering is a young woman named Dorcas, who doesn’t actually do anything, but she’s played by Walt’s daughter Sharon! Anyway, he wants anybody who can to grab a gun and fight back. Johnny wants to join but his hand is holding him back, so Rab gives him an alternative assignment. It’s okay, though, Cilla is sticking around, too. She’s going to get a job in the Green Dragon so she can gather information from the British officers who frequent the tavern. For some reason, Johnny freaks out and demands she take a job at a different tavern. After all, he is Strong Man and she is Weak Woman, so he needs to protect her. And she gives in to that demand really easily, agreeing to work at the Afric Queen where Johnny will be working the stables. So much for the strong willed lady we saw in the trial. Maybe in 1957 they were only allowed to show women stand up for themselves once.

Johnny walks Cilla home and hears a redcoat berating her grandfather for messing up his order. He puts on his naïve, innocent apprentice face and offers to deliver the requested flask, but the disgruntled officer snaps that he doesn’t deliver to New Hampshire. And now they know where the British army is marching! Thrilled with his easy victory, Johnny races out to report to the Sons. That New Hampshire town is home to a Fort loaded with ammunitions, so the Sons of Liberty send Paul Revere out to liberate those weapons. He politely greets two British guards who fail at this whole blockade thing and sweetens them up with the promise of cider. They admire his posture and declare him the “ridin’est man in Boston”. Kinda reminded me of those two guys from the first Pirates of the Caribbean. The British are furious at losing all of it and a little concerned that the angry citizens are arming themselves. Still, Gage doesn’t want to kill them and he’s convinced that they’re too weak and unorganized to be a threat.

Outside the Afric Queen, a British officer is berating his stable boy for messing up his saddle. Cilla brings him his drink at the exact convenient second a messenger gives him a note. Before he can actually read it, the stable boy messes up again and the officer takes matters into his own hands. He tosses his coat to Cilla to bring up to his room, but the note is inside the pocket! Wow, I’m getting the impression that we won the American Revolution solely because of the opposition’s staggering incompetence. With the note stuffed down her cleavage, Cilla races to deliver the news to Johnny… who laughs in her face. All the Sons of Liberty have gotten the same note, you silly girl. They’re already planning a meeting, and everyone’s going to be there, even James Otis! This was a big deal in the book where everyone kinda hated him because he’s clearly gone senile, but this is the first time he’s mentioned so the name kinda falls flat. But this could be the last meeting of the Sons of Liberty, so it makes sense that the guy who started the group should be there to finish it.  Also, Rab’s not there because he’s already left to fight.

Otis, who, by the way, is played by our good friend Jeff York, grumps his way up to the attic. Warren concedes the seat at the head of the table to him. And now it’s speechifying time! And speechify he does. For like five minutes. He interrogates the Sons of Liberty about what they’re fighting for, and it’s not about taxation or beating the redcoats. It’s about the rights of all men, and how it’s America’s god-given duty to free everyone around the world. This bit was clearly written at the beginning of the Cold War, as evidenced by the mention of freeing “the serfs of Russia”. It’s actually a little uncomfortable to watch when you think about how much trouble America’s habit of meddling with everyone has caused historically. But that’s neither here nor there. Otis rambles for like five minutes about Freedom and Liberty and Independence and Ra Ra Ra Murrica and it’s supposed to be empowering and the performance is great but my god did I tune half of it out.

Somewhere offscreen, Warren operated on Johnny’s hand and now it’s totally 100% fine without a hint of scarring. It’s such a throwaway thing and it’s super weird considering what a big deal it was when it was injured. Also, medicine in the 1700s did not work that way. Meanwhile, Revere and Warren discuss the British army’s potential next move. They’re sure they’re going through Cambridge but the question is how? Are they going over the harbor or across the little land bridge known as the Neck? Revere makes a plan to ride through the Common and warn everyone, signalling using lanterns in the window of the church tower. Of course, there’ll be one if by land, two if by sea. Back at the Afric Queen, the stable boy is feeling sorry for himself because the officer didn’t tell him what saddle to use and then got mad that he used the wrong one. He has to get the General’s old horse ready and asks Johnny and Cilla to help. They wonder why he’d use such an old and feeble horse on a march, to which the stable boy replies that he only needs to ride 17 miles. That’s new information! They race off to deliver it, much to the chagrin of the poor stable boy. They announce to the Sons of Liberty that the British will be arriving by sea. Paul Revere races off on his famous midnight ride. Oh, and Johnny has to tell the sextant of the church to light two lanterns but who cares this is important.

After history is made, Johnny gets to work packing up to fight at Lexington. Cilla is immediately distraught because he doesn’t have a gun or any knowledge of fighting whatsoever, but it’s fine, Johnny is a Plucky Disney Hero. He’ll just get one and learn. It’s that easy to not die in a war. He zips out the door but not before surprising his longtime crush with a kiss. Cut to Lexington Green. Johnny hangs out with Rab, eating bread and cheese on a random porch, much to the older boy’s amusement. Johnny is still unarmed but it’s fine, he’ll just hide behind Rab. What could possibly go wrong? Just as the boys wonder where the redcoats are, they show up. Both sides have orders not to shoot first. For several tense moments, the colonists stare down the British. Then, suddenly, The Shot Heard Round the World rings out and the fighting begins! Neither side knows who started it, and historians today still don’t know who started it, but it doesn’t matter. The fight for independence has begun!

A very, very long, very drawn out scene of the militia running down the British army begins. There is shooting. There is running. There are weird, melodramatic, Hayes-code approved deaths. The British rush to the bridge to Concord to destroy it and prevent the militia from advancing. Rab warns Johnny to get out of there but Johnny is an idiot and determined to get a musket from a dead soldier. The militia saves the bridge and chases the soldiers away. Somewhere along the line Johnny acquires a gun. There is more shooting, more running, and more weird, melodramatic, Hayes-code approved deaths. I’m not gonna lie to you guys, this part was really boring. Finally, though, the bedraggled remains of the British army limp back to Boston to report their failure. Because this movie was made in America, Gage just kinda throws in the towel and announces that they were defeated by an idea because freedom. It’s kind of a nice speech but it’s a little weird to anyone with half a brain who knows that the Revolution lasted a whole lot longer than that.

Later on, the militia make camp for the night. Cilla makes her way through and finds Johnny laying with his eyes closed in a haystack. She immediately freaks out, thinking she’s dead, but he opens his eyes and laughs. He was just sleeping, silly girl, do you see any blood? It’s a really awkward bit of writing and serves only to make Cilla look like a Hysterical Female. Anyway, Johnny pulls her down to kiss her because apparently they’re a thing now, and Rab interrupts to make them help carry firewood. His timing is awful. Poor, naïve Cilla the silly girl is so very glad the fighting’s over, but of course it’s not. Otis, who has been lurking against the fence this whole time, spouts some ominous stuff about how it’s only just begun. The war will never be over until the whole world is is Free. The movie ends on a closeup of the fires of freedom burning strong. Because freedom.

I actually really liked the first two thirds of this movie. Sure, it was a little bit of a slow start and there were some deviations from the book. But it was character-driven and a nice look into the daily life of the not-famous citizenry. I always find it cool to think about how the random people of the world are affected by big events like the Boston Tea Party. However, once the war actually got underway, the movie’s focus shifted onto the war itself and Johnny took a backseat. Even more oddly, the treatment of Cilla took a turn for the worse. She started as a fiery, headstrong young lady who fought for what she believed in as fiercely as any of the boys… until everyone started just talking down to her for no reason. And the war scenes last forever and aren’t super interesting. And my god, if I hear the word freedom again I’m going to lose it.

CHARACTERS

Johnny Tremain comes off as the stereotypical plucky kid who believes in himself really hard and makes something of himself.  Somehow, though, this movie keeps painting that as arrogance.  In the book, he’s a horrible brat who looks down on everyone even once his hand is burned, but it really doesn’t work here.  There are some sequences where he does come off as condescending, but that really only comes off directed at Cilla.  Mostly, he’s just a cipher meant to allow the young audience to picture themselves in the American Revolution.  He’s played by Hank Stalmaster who really didn’t do much else.  I also kept thinking he looked like Cameron Boyce (rest in peace) through most of the movie.

Priscilla Lapham, more commonly known as Cilla, is a strange one. I’ve already talked about her a fair bit but it’s just so weird that they get off to such a great start with her and taper off so quickly. She’s stubborn and strongwilled in a way that’s only been rivaled by Cinderella and Maid Marian and maybe Mary Tudor so far… and then suddenly everyone starts cutting her off like “shut up you’re female”. I did not appreciate that. She’s played by a familiar face that you might not recognize unless you know she’s there. This is Luana Patten, all grown up! She’s vastly improved as an actress, too, which is nice. Much less shrill.

Rab Silsbee is Johnny’s cool older brother figure. He’s all in on the whole freedom thing, mostly because his uncle raised him that way. He doesn’t do as much in the movie as he does in the book and Johnny’s admiration of him isn’t nearly as emphasized, but it’s there. He’s played by a really young Dick Beymer, best known as Tony from West Side Story.

Johnathan Lyte is our villain… kinda? He kinda dips before the action really begins, but he’s a jerk who hates Johnny because… he’s poor. Yup. That’s it. Again, I don’t want to get too political around here but you just know the crowd he’d hang with in modern times. And that’s all I’m going to say about that. He’s terrible and a bully and he thinks money makes him right about everything. He’s played by a clean-shaven and utterly unrecognizable Sebastian Cabot. I think he’s going to be the new Fess Parker for a while. Could be wrong though.

MUSIC

The Liberty Tree is the only song here. Between this and Davy Crockett, Bruns is up there with the Sherman Brothers themselves in terms of writing a song that gets stuck in your head. It’s repetitive, never ends, and it’s really hokey… but I kinda like it. It reminds me a little of Small World in that there is nothing strictly likeable about it, yet somehow it gives me the warm fuzzies. Or, in this case, a feeling of empowerment. It’s more effective than the constant speeches about freedom, that’s for sure.

ARTISTRY

Johnny Tremain was very clearly made on a budget and intended for TV. There are hardly any practical sets. Instead, good old Peter Ellenshaw’s matte paintings are used almost exclusively, giving the film the look of a stage play. That’s not, however, entirely a bad thing. It’s kitschy, a sign that Walt’s telling the audience, “look, we know we’re really in the 50s, but we’d like to get kids interested in history.” It reminded me of this show I watched as a kid called Liberty’s Kids, which was very 90s but still taught a nice intro to the Revolution.

THEME PARKS

Walt tended to fixate on things. Especially successful things. Johnny Tremain performed well and got Walt thinking a lot about the birth of the country he loved so much. He decided that he wanted to build an annex to Main Street in Disneyland that would celebrate the colonial era, featuring a working blacksmith shop, apothecary, and an animatronic show all about the presidents. This never came to be, but WEDway Enterprises revisited the idea after his death while designing the Magic Kingdom. As a result, Florida’s park featured Liberty Square, which heavily resembles the sets of Johnny Tremain and features the Hall of Presidents, an animatronic show just like the one Walt wanted. Liberty Square is also home to its very own Liberty Tree, complete with thirteen lanterns: one for each original colony. They even play the song on the area loop! And no discussion of Magic Kingdom’s Liberty Tree would be complete without mention of the restaurant it inspired. The Liberty Tree Tavern allows guests to dine in rooms based on famous patriots, several of whom were seen in the film, and their food is to die for. I have made many a waiter wonder where this tiny girl is putting four bowls of their mashed potatoes. They are that good.

FINAL THOUGHTS

“It’s a tall old tree and a strong old tree….”  Maybe it’s just because it was so nice to finally have a different setting.  Maybe it’s because it gave some context to an area of Magic Kingdom that I thoroughly enjoy.  Either way, I liked Johnny Tremain a lot more than I expected to.  It works very well as an introduction to American history for a young audience while still maintaining enough interesting characters and intrapersonal conflict to be engaging for an adult.  For the first time in a while, I felt like I was watching a Disney movie.

Favorite scene: As utterly ridiculous as it was, the musical number.  It’s a good song and you could really feel the pride everyone had in what they were doing.  That shot at the end (the one I used) is absolutely gorgeous, too.  And I can totally relate to singing the praises of The Liberty Tree… Tavern.  And their potatoes.

Final rating: 7/10.  Parts of it are really dry and I wasn’t crazy about how they treated Cilla.  Lyte’s footman was really bad, too.  But it succeeded at what it wanted to be: a fresh look at a true story with a little extra sparkle.