SKIPPY (1931)

1931 saw 8-yr-old Jackie Cooper jump from Hal Roach ‘Little Rascal’ to top Hollywood child star with SKIPPY and THE CHAMP.  Equally acclaimed in their day (four Oscar® noms apiece), King Vidor’s sentimental boxing weepie is now far better known, helped by a posh 1979 remake: Jon Voight, Faye Dunaway, Ricky Schroeder; dir. Franco Zeffirelli.  A pity, since SKIPPY seems the more interesting work.  A classic slice of a pueris ii Americanus, think Mark Twain (lead boys Skippy & ‘Sooky’ very TOM & HUCK), Tarkington PENROD, even PECK’S BAD BOY.  Child specialist director Norman Taurog, with an ultra-naturalistic, loosely structured take on boyhood rites-of-passage now looking pretty stylized, got his Oscar here, and it still works on its own period terms.  Especially when the third act turns dark and the kids stop projecting so much.  And while the main story arc comes from Skippy’s well-to-do dad learning to take notice of his boy’s needs, the real interest comes watching Skippy spending his days idling his way down the social ladder in boyhood adventures on literally the wrong side of the track in an all-too-believable Depression-Era ShantyTown (mixed race BTW).  A neighborhood he treats as a guard-rail free playground, alive with possibilities & dusty ragamuffins to hang out with.  Bonding fast with ‘Sooky,’ the new kid in town (enchantingly played by Jackie Coogan’s kid brother Robert), stakes are raised when the town dog catcher grabs Sooky’s mutt and the boys have to raise three bucks for a licence.  A fortune to them, and a gift to the film which suddenly takes on dramatic purpose and starts to feel timeless rather than dated.   Still very much a period piece, but at its best, a magical one.

DOUBLE-BILL: An instant sequel, SOOKY/’31 brought back everything but the magic.

SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: Under cinematographer Karl Struss, we’ve moved past Early Talkie limitations, but not yet hit high Golden Age Hollywood gloss.  Just enough rough edges left technically to hold off sentimentality and keep ‘the cutes’ at bay.