I suppose most people have burgers and hot dogs and pools and fireworks and I enjoy all those things, but my 4th of July tradition is to always at least attempt to watch one of my favorite musical movies. It is not the best movie musical. It is not based on the best stage musical. But it is affecting and funny and witty and sharp and largely historically inaccurate and yet, there is something about Peter H. Hunt’s 1776 (1972) that strikes a chord with me and makes me proud to be a part of the American experience.
When I was in high school, a friend begged me to come see a musical they were producing at a local Methodist church. I think he was afraid it would fail and they would have no audience, but as the show neared, it started to pull together. The show was 1776, the 1969 Broadway musical about the struggle for a Declaration of Independence. Featuring the Founding Fathers singing, arguing, posturing, and reciting the words of the greatest musical libretto there is (the score is okay, but Peter Stone’s book is really something). I was profoundly moved even though I know the show was a typical community theatre effort—for example, it was unfortunate the actor playing Rutledge had a lisp which made “Molasses to Rum (to Slaves)” funny instead of frightening, but they made it—they pulled off a show that I’ve come to learn you would have to try to ruin to deny the audience a good time.
It is an unusual show for many reasons. There are only two female characters and yet it has a cast nearing forty. The songs make up not even a third of the three-hour running time. It has no intermission, so you are left in the consistently heating crucible of the trials of adopting independence in the 2nd Continental Congress. It would seem hard to revive and yet this was done successfully in 1997 with Brent Spiner taking over the role William Daniels made famous—the obnoxious and disliked John Adams (who, in real life, was neither during the historical period). A more recent politically correct revival played exclusively by LGBT actors and women of color failed miserably as it was clearly a gimmicky stunt to try to preach to a choir who has already paid their tithes.
Thankfully, it is faithfully preserved on film with a screenplay by the original librettist and directed by the same stage director and featuring nearly the entire original Broadway cast. It was produced at a time when movie musicals were beginning to hemorrhage money and so it was cut rather disgracefully by studio executive Jack Warner and this was the version I first saw on video in the early 2000s—an unqualified mess. Finally, however, the director’s cut was released on DVD, and it is a delight, perfectly capturing Daniels and Howard Da Silva’s original performances as well as that of Ken Howard and Blythe Danner who are perfection personified as Thomas and Martha Jefferson.
So, while everybody else is basking in the sun and barbecuing, I’m cuddled up with a slice of American history told in a jaunty way with marvelous dialogue and some catchy tunes from Sherman Edwards, the writer of “See You in September” and other pop songs. It also realistically shows the bravery of the men who signed the declaration in an ending that is heartfelt, moving, frightening, and a good lesson to those who think the American experiment is nearing its end. It may be, but 1776 gains fans all the time and it’s high time that was the case.
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