Tenth Avenue Angel might remind you somewhat of A Tree Grows In Brooklyn - the apartment seemed similar, the mother becomes pregnant, there's a family member who has to overcome a stigma,an economically challenged household, the coming-of-age of the daughter. However, all of it is without emotional resonance, to say the least. And although I'm usually not fans of these kinds of films I DID love "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn".
So what's missing? Despite the evocative lower Manhattan sets, the genuinely warm and believable performance of Phyllis Thaxter as the mother, Rhys Williams as a blind newspaper vendor and (occasionally) Margaret O'Brien (when she's ruling the roost of her neighborhood in a precociously cynical way; not when she's required to do The Crying and saying lines like "How do cows know it's Christmas?") the movie doesn't work for me at all. This is one of those "we-don't-know-what-to-do-with-her" parts for the supremely talented Angela Lansbury, here completely wasted as O'Brien's young aunt, in love with the equally miscast George Murphy (he does his best, though the script just sinks him). Rhys Wiliiams was so much better served in How Green Was My Valley in much the same type of character (albeit more pugilistic).
Margaret gives a patriotic speech at a Fourth of July block party which it's safe to surmise (since the film was made in 1946, only one year after FDR died though released in 1948) is a double tribute to him and his principles (they even show his picture); convenient dovetailing as the story takes place in Depression era 1936.
Apparently mice are so common in their household that the one O'Brien sees doesn't phase the family one bit; nobody bats an eyelash. Also, when pregnant women fall down stairs, they are not taken to the hospital.Also, bovine miracles will astound you. I was underwhelmed throughout.
I'd say it's a take it or leave it proposition, probably a 4.5, but I'll be kind given the season and round up to five.
So what's missing? Despite the evocative lower Manhattan sets, the genuinely warm and believable performance of Phyllis Thaxter as the mother, Rhys Williams as a blind newspaper vendor and (occasionally) Margaret O'Brien (when she's ruling the roost of her neighborhood in a precociously cynical way; not when she's required to do The Crying and saying lines like "How do cows know it's Christmas?") the movie doesn't work for me at all. This is one of those "we-don't-know-what-to-do-with-her" parts for the supremely talented Angela Lansbury, here completely wasted as O'Brien's young aunt, in love with the equally miscast George Murphy (he does his best, though the script just sinks him). Rhys Wiliiams was so much better served in How Green Was My Valley in much the same type of character (albeit more pugilistic).
Margaret gives a patriotic speech at a Fourth of July block party which it's safe to surmise (since the film was made in 1946, only one year after FDR died though released in 1948) is a double tribute to him and his principles (they even show his picture); convenient dovetailing as the story takes place in Depression era 1936.
Apparently mice are so common in their household that the one O'Brien sees doesn't phase the family one bit; nobody bats an eyelash. Also, when pregnant women fall down stairs, they are not taken to the hospital.Also, bovine miracles will astound you. I was underwhelmed throughout.
I'd say it's a take it or leave it proposition, probably a 4.5, but I'll be kind given the season and round up to five.