State Fair (1933)

The 1933 version of State Fair is the first of three movie versions of the novel by Philip Strong about an Iowa family’s journey to the titular annual event. I prefer the 1945 musical version myself because it includes some amazing songs (“It Might as Well Be Spring,” “It’s a Grand Night for Singing”) and good performances by Jeanne Crain, Dana Andrews, and Dick Haymes, among others. The 1962 film features Ann-Margaret and Pat Boone and switches the action to Texas rather than Iowa. However, the earliest version is the only one to have garnered a Best Picture nomination, and without the success of this first film, the others would never likely never have been made.

State Fair (to be clear, I’m talking about the one from 1933) is ostensibly a comedy with some romantic and dramatic elements included for good measure. A frame story shows the Frake family’s preparations for the Iowa State Fair and their reactions after returning home. It’s the middle part of the film that depicts the fair itself, and it’s the most significant part of the narrative in terms of the plot complications. As such, the fair provides a brief escape, a sort of vacation, from the drudgery of the real world. Anything might be possible at the fair, and you don’t have to live by the usual “rules” of society when you’re there and far away from your home.

Initially, each member of the family has a reason to be excited about the upcoming fair. The father, Abel (played with cornpone charm by Will Rogers), has been raising a Hampshire boar that he hopes will be named Grand Champion. The mother, Melissa (Louise Dresser, nicely understated), has various pickles and mincemeat recipes that she hopes will garner her some ribbons for her cooking prowess. The brother, Wayne (Norman Foster, grating with his exaggerated accent and hick-like behavior), has been practicing tossing hoops for a year in order to get back at the carnival barker who tricked him at the previous year’s fair. Finally, the daughter, Margy (Janet Gaynor, a true movie star and a fine actress), just wants to have some adventure in her life before she possibly settles for marrying a local dairy farmer.

Abel makes a $5 bet (no doubt, a lot of money in 1933) with the local store owner that everyone in the Frake family will have a great time at the fair and everyone will reach the goals each has established for going to the fair. The film seems to ask if it is possible for everything to turn out the way you want it to, if you can always achieve what you set out to do, and the answer, apparently, is that it depends. Raising such a question means, of course, that there must be complications for each of the four main characters. For example, a significant portion of the plot—perhaps too much of the plot—is taken up with Blue Boy, Abel’s prize-worthy pig, who seems lethargic when at the fair. Abel even sleeps in the pen with the pig to make certain that it’s okay. It’s only when another pig, Esmerelda, appears that Blue Boy springs back to life. Can pigs fall in love? State Fair seems to suggest that they can; it certainly suggests that they can talk to each other. There are at least two lengthy passages involving these two pigs grunting, certainly some of the oddest “romantic” dialog to appear on film.

Rogers, one of the most famous personalities from the first half of the 20^th Century, is rather too “aw shucks, ma” in his performance. He’s not a particularly good actor, to be honest, often stumbling over his lines, but he does seem to be enjoying himself being around the fairgrounds, and there’s some cute interplay between him and Dresser in the second half of the film. Dresser’s storyline as Melissa Frake is rather simple, but she makes the most of the clichéd part of homemaker who wants recognition for her skills. Melissa faces some stiff competition from another woman who is apparently famous in Iowa for her pickles and mincemeat too. However, all it takes is some blue ribbons and a plaque for Melissa to state, without apparent irony, “I’ve got the most that any woman can get in life. There’s nothing left to come to the fair again for.” That suggests the kinds of limitations placed on women during the time period of the film. Little wonder then that her daughter might consider wanting more in life than a bit of blue ribbon and a statewide reputation for prize-winning pickles.

The most compelling thread in the plot involves Gaynor’s Margy. Her life seems out of her control; everyone expects her to marry Harry, but she doesn’t love him. Harry has always loved her, and he certainly seems devoted to her, but he represents a safe choice, a mundane future, a continuation of the existence she’s always known. You can tell from Gaynor’s facial expressions that Margy is a dreamer, someone who wants to have some excitement in her life. When she looks at the sky during the truck ride to the fair, it’s easy for the audience to comprehend just how more she wants out of life, more than perhaps even one week at the fair can provide. Margy meets a newspaperman played by Lew Ayres on a roller coaster, and they decide to have fun enjoying the fair together. No strings, no expectations—they just plan to see what the fair has to offer visitors. She admits that she has a boyfriend back home, and he confesses to having had several lovers in the past. You know that won’t prevent them from falling in love with each other, but one of the true joys of the film is watching a relationship develop between their young characters. Both Gaynor and Ayres (in one of his earlier film roles) are quite charming.

Meanwhile, the most shocking plotline involves Wayne. He won a cheap “pearl-handled” revolver the year before, and he takes full advantage of the opportunity to humiliate the carny running the hoop toss game. He’s gotten quite good at a rather useless skill, but the scene is really just designed to set up a burgeoning romance between Wayne and a trapeze artist. They have quite the sexual relationship throughout the duration of the fair, and the film, being made prior to the adoption of the Production Code, is rather daring in its depiction of what’s going on between Wayne and Emily. It’s quite a contrast between their relationship and the far more chaste one involving Margy and Ayres’ Pat. Margy and Pat, for example, seemingly only share kisses, nothing more. Wayne and Emily go much, much farther than that.

The existing print, at least the one shown periodically on Turner Classic Movies, is in pretty bad shape. There are numerous cuts and jumps that eliminate some dialog and some images. It makes for some rocky watching at times. The use of soft-focus cinematography in the farm scenes is also noteworthy. The edges are slightly out of focus in these scenes. Perhaps it’s an attempt to idealize the agrarian existence depicted in the film. The scenes at the fair so seem sharper or flatter.

The fair itself is an intriguing artifact here. We get to see the carnies putting up the tents, setting up the shows and games. These scenes are one of the few places that African-Americans appear in the film—well, and some blackface performers at the fair. There are also some melancholy shots of the empty fair after it has closed. Much of this atmospheric footage came from the 1932 Iowa State Fair, and these sequences serve as a realistic backdrop for the action involving the four main characters. For example, one of the best examples of how footage from the state fair is integrated into the film involves Pat and Margy attending the horse races. This is an exciting sequence with lots of energy, reminiscent in some ways of the chariot races in Ben-Hur.

Even though the film was nominated for a screenplay Oscar, some of the dialog is truly cringe-inducing. For example, on the way to the fair, Mrs. Frake encourages Margy to spread a blanket on the floor of the back of the truck, which she and her brother are sharing with Blue Boy (thankfully, caged). Margy, naturally, balks, only to have her father respond with “It ain’t everybody gets a chance to sleep alongside of a hog like that.” Probably not, but it depends upon whether you mean a literal “hog” or not, I suppose. The funniest dialog centers around Wayne’s claim that he’s seeing one of his male friends from the previous year’s fair when he’s really seeing Emily, the trapeze artist. This leads to some rather intriguing statements from his mother, several of which sound faintly homoerotic. For instance, when Margy gets upset that Wayne hasn’t accompanied her to the fair, Mrs. Frake says, “You know a boy has to go around and meet other fellows.” Indeed, some boys do just that at a fair. My favorite line, though, occurs when Wayne says he’s going to spend the night with this male friend on the final evening of the fair. Mrs. Frake’s assertion that “I bet you boys just fool around and don’t get a wink of sleep” is surprisingly on target for what’s been going on with Wayne and Emily, but can you imagine the implications of a mother saying that to a grown young man nowadays and not being the subject of some quizzical looks? Still, it’s this kind of dialog that makes even modern-day audiences laugh, just perhaps not in the way that audiences originally did in 1933.

Oscar Nominations: Best Picture, Best Writing (Adaptation)