The House I Live In

"The House I Live In" is a movie which everyone ought to see ... not just for its substantial entertainment value, but for its true depiction of what it means to be an American. (I came to the U.S.A. from elsewhere as an adult, so I know how precious American citizenship is.) After the world changed forever on September 11, 2001, "The House I Live In" is more relevant than ever before.

Frank Sinatra plays himself in this film. He encounters a group of street boys who are bullying another boy because they don't like his religion. Sinatra handles this issue intelligently and logically, offering some ideas that the boys haven't thought about. (For instance: What if one of your relatives got a blood transfusion from someone who has the "wrong" religion?)

To top off his argument, Sinatra sings "The House I Live In", a song which is often incorrectly identified as "What Is America to Me?" This is a good song by any standards - nice tune, pleasant lyrics - but it's also one of the most moving statements of the American identity I've ever encountered. The usual flag-waving tactics of most patriotic film are completely absent here.

Frank Sinatra was a complex man. His flaws were often displayed in public, while his virtues (such as his many philanthropic acts) were usually exercised only in private, without publicity. In "The House I Live In", Sinatra seems to exhibit his sincere belief in America's deepest values. And if it isn't sincere, then Sinatra was a better actor than he ever let on. Whatever else he may have been, Frank Sinatra was a patriotic American.

There are many excellent films, but very few truly great ones. "The House I Live In" is a great film about the greatest nation in the world.

This Honorary Academy Award and Golden Globe-winning one-reeler is renowned for the participation of Frank Sinatra (then still at the beginning of his prolific and varied career) in both his musical and acting guises; he appears as himself recording a new song and then running into a number of children bullying a Jewish boy while taking a cigarette break. This leads him to lecturing them on tolerance by also crooning the title song: curiously enough, the film-makers being still in fervent anti-Japanese wartime mood (is that not in itself a racist attitude?!), he uses as example of different religious groups working in unison towards a common goal the case of the multi-ethnic crew of an Allied aircraft bombing an enemy submarine! That said, it is nicely handled all the way and never quite as sappy as it could have been – with the youths' response to the star's influence developing into a kind of adulation in much the same way The Dead End Kids did at the molding of James Cagney in ANGELS WITH DIRTY FACES (1938)...but, of course, Sinatra here proves a force for decency and understanding as opposed to encouraging truancy! Ironically, the screenplay was penned by Albert Maltz – soon to be one of "The Hollywood Ten", industry professionals that were infamously imprisoned for refusing to retract their presumed Communist affiliations!

It's sometimes difficult to watch such self-avowed "message films" from an earlier, seemingly-simpler era without a certain degree of cynicism. The issue of racism and religious tolerance is one that has been drummed into us from an early age, and, as we've grown, teachers and authority figures have sought out less blatant yet equally-effective means of getting the message across. 'The House I Live In (1945)' is about as unsubtle as "message films" come, and Frank Sinatra seems to be treating his audience like a child – indeed, perhaps this was the point, as the short was no doubt intended primarily to influence younger film-goers. Even so, I found myself curiously affected when Sinatra launched into that sincere patriotic speech about what it really means to be an American… and I'm not even an American! Released just two months after the end of WWII, director Mervyn LeRoy greeted war-weary audiences with a message of tolerance, togetherness and, above all else, hope. The music ain't bad, either.

Fresh-faced Frank Sinatra – already a star, but not yet the superstar he'd become – opens the film in a recording studio, booming out "If You Are But a Dream" with a full orchestral accompaniment. When, between songs, Frank goes outside for a smoko, he observes a large group of kids bullying a young Jewish boy, their taunts provoked purely by his differing religion. Ol' Blue Eyes quickly puts a stop to this childish behaviour, delicately branding the bullies "Nazi werewolves" and scolding their irrational prejudice. He then earnestly and good-naturely lectures the group on the plain silliness of racial and religious discrimination, assuring them that every American culture, however it differs from our own, is still American at heart… unless, of course, you're one of those bloody "Japs." There's a hint of hypocrisy in pleading for racial tolerance while presenting one nation as the collective enemy, though you could hardly blame Hollywood for being less than enthusiastic about the plight of the Japanese in 1945.

Sinatra drives his point home with a wonderfully heartwarming rendition of "The House I Live In," which was written in 1943 by Abel Meeropol. When the songwriter first heard the song on film, he was furious that the filmmakers had completely excluded three of his verses, which he considered crucial to the message. These omissions were most likely due to time restraints, but Meeropol understandably didn't take too kindly to them, and reportedly had to be ejected from the cinema. When it was first released, 'The House I Live In' was deemed such an important short film that it won a Golden Globe for "Best Film for Promoting International Good Will" and a Honorary Oscar for all involved. In 2007, it was judged to be "culturally, historically or aesthetically significant" and added to the Library of Congress' National Film Registry, which is how I came to hear of it. While its approach may seem a little hokey sixty years later, this film remains quite watchable thanks to a young fella named Frank Sinatra.

Frank Sinatra sings "If You Are But A Dream" and the title song. In between he lectures some kids on religious tolerance.

Given Sinatra's contract with MGM, and that of his director for this, Mervyn Leroy, it's mildly puzzling why this is an RKO release. But the folks at most of the Majors were hesitant in making a fuss about prejudice. This was because most of them were Jewish, and they worried about fitting in. It took the most WASPish of production heads to push tolerance, as Darryl Zanuck would soon begin to.

Sinatra's voice is in fine form at this point, with plenty of vibrato in his singing.

This short subject gathered kudos from all kinds of places for its plea for religious toleration.

After a session at a recording studio Frank Sinatra leaves and comes upon a group of kids beating up on another because he was Jewish. He lectured them as only an American icon could about the meaning of prejudice and what we had just fought for against the Nazis. The meaning could not be clearer.

Both songs from this short subject were recorded and sold big for Columbia records. If You Are But A Dream and the song written for the film, The House I Live In. The latter is one of the best songs about an idealized version of America, we'd all like to strive for.

Sinatra in fact recorded The House I Live In again during the Sixties for a joint album he did for his Reprise record label. The album is now a rarity and it shouldn't be. His collaborators were Bing Crosby and Fred Waring and his Pennsylvanians with the orchestra conducted by Nelson Riddle.

Axel Stordahl was Sinatra's primary music conductor and arranger during the forties. When he died that position eventually fell to Nelson Riddle. Stordahl does the orchestration for the short and the Columbia record, Riddle for the Reprise record.

Sinatra aficionados and others should listen to both back to back and compare. And catch this worthwhile film whenever it is shown.