Come Monday...Miracle(s) on 34th Street

“Come Monday…” is a weekly series that will involve a review of, or commentary about,  websites, movies, documentaries, television shows, sports, music, and whatever else may tickle my fancy at the time.  Be assured that these reviews will be generally positive, as in accordance to the Jimmy Buffett song “Come Monday.”  This is subject to change, however.  In fact, I would be most derelict in my duties to neglect going on a rant every once in a while.  For rants promote change, and change can be good—right?  Therefore, since good is generally considered as being a positive force in 99.3% of the parallel universes that I am aware of, even a rant could be considered as being something positive, and a genuine hissy-fit would be even better (so I’m told).

There are two versions of Miracle on 34^th Street that I am very familiar with, which are the [1947] and [1994] versions.  I have evidently slept since last seeing the [1973] version.  For I seem to recall brief flashes of watching it after Arlynda reminding me of its existence, but it is the ’47 and ’94 versions that prominently come to mind whenever I hear mention of the title.

If you are not familiar with any of them, the plot is basically about believing in something greater than ourselves, and in this case, it is about believing in the existence of Santa Claus.  Since I am not familiar with the 1973 version, the rest of this piece will be about the other two.

Yes, it is enough to send any religious zealot into hysterics.  For the reason for the season is Christ Jesus—right?

Oh, but they would be missing the point, and the ’94 version even adds some indications of Him not being disregarded.  For in one scene, the lights of a building are on in the form of a large cross, and the winning argument in Kris Kringle’s competency hearing is that if the United States federal government (made up of, by and for the people) can place its faith in a higher power (as proven by In God We Trust being displayed on our currency) so should the state of New York have faith in the existence of Santa Claus.

The plot really gets to me, and I am not ashamed to admit that I have a hard time keeping from crying like a baby throughout.  Well, maybe a little ashamed.  For it is does not bolster the image of me truly being a manly man that I have worked so hard at perpetrating to admit to crying like a baby, but what true manly man doesn’t love to hear their lady cry out, “Ooh baby, ooh baby, ooh,” in the throes of passion?

If anything, just having [Natalie Wood] in the 1947 version, and [Mara Wilson] in the 1994 version, playing the role of Susan Walker is well worth the price of admission—especially if it is a free viewing in the comfort of your own home!  For both do a marvelous job of portraying a little girl, who sounds like a woman considerably older on account of her mother raising her to look at everything from a completely logical point-of-view without any emotions involved whatsoever.  Hmm, I wonder if her mother was actually a [Vulcan]?

In the end, it all works out, which really gets the ol' tear ducts a-flowin'.  Please forgive me, but I do not want to give away anything else—neither about the movie(s), nor myself.

Okay, maybe one more thing.  For if the father of the small boy at the beginning of the following trailer of the 1994 version looks familiar to you, it may be on account of remembering him as Sgt. Stan Jablonski on [Hill Street Blues].

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