OK, it was the Depression, the New Deal hadn't been cobbled together yet, Americans were desperate and looking for any possible way out. That still doesn't account for the wild fancifulness of this very uncharacteristic MGM production, based on an anonymous novel, that suggests that the way out of economic disaster was a benevolent dictator. Huston, looking haggard, plays a party-tool Prez (it's never made clear which party) who, after a near-death experience, suddenly dis-empowers Congress and singlehandedly saves the Republic. And what are his solutions? Why, to combat crime, stand up bootlegging hoodlums (the Volstead Act hadn't been repealed yet) to a firing squad. War debts? Eliminate the European military machines and use the savings to repay the U.S. Unemployment? Just get the jobless working, and meantime, suspend their mortgages so that no one is turned out of his home. Not only are these ridiculously simplistic political solutions, they're stiffly staged -- by Gregory La Cava, of all people. Add to that some unconvincing plotting (the unmarried President's mistress falls for his chief aide; the President graciously retreats; there's a drive-by shooting BY THE WHITE HOUSE), and you have a wish-fulfillment political fantasy that can't have persuaded anyone in 1933, much less 2005. Have I omitted anything? Oh, yes -- this fascist Chief Executive isn't really acting on his own will at all; he is an instrument of the angel Gabriel, represented by arty lighting, fluttering curtains in the West Wing, and offstage trumpets. A real odd duck of Metro's 1930s output, in short, and not even that interesting as a curio.
Review of Gabriel Over the White House
