What it’s about: Based on roughly the first half of L. Frank Baum’s 1900 novel, the movie begins as Toto, the dog of Kansas farmgirl Dorothy Gale (Garland) has bitten snooty bigshot Almira Gulch (Hamilton), who demands the dog be taken away and dealt with. To avoid this, Dorothy runs away and is convinced to go back by a marooned circus performer (Morgan), but a tornado strikes and Dorothy is conked on the head and whisked to the magical (and technicolor) land of Oz. She is set off by the Good Witch Glinda (Burke) along the Yellow Brick Road to see if the Wizard of Oz (Morgan again) can send her home. Along the way, she picks up fellow travelers, The Scarecrow (Bolger), The Tin Man (Haley) and The Cowardly Lion (Lahr), and has to tangle with the Wicked Witch of the West (Hamilton again), who has her eye on a particular bit of footwear.

Reflections: Gee, what do I say about one of the most widely-seen and referenced, most beloved, and most heavily analyzed and chronicled films ever made? I don’t need to say this movie is great–of course it is. The songs are mostly great, and choreographed with wild, colorful spectacle. The old-timey practical effects aren’t exactly convincing, but they still look good, full of theatrical creativity. The set and design work is almost psychedelic. The plot is thin, but it’s fine. And there is just a palpable sense of spectacle and whimsy about all of it that it still resonates, nearly a century later.

It’s sort of heartbreaking watching Judy Garland (sixteen or seventeen here), knowing some of what she was being put through behind the scenes, but she brings a kind of bright, intense energy to Dorothy that is a big part of what keeps the film together. And, y’know, girl could sing. Frank Morgan seems to be having fun in his multiple roles–“Well bust my buttons!” has lived rent-free in my consciousness since childhood. Hamilton is gloriously chewing the scenery and her death scene is one for the ages. Lahr is going the biggest of the trio of companions–a lot of scenes focus on his antics, like his comical run and dive through a window in fear of the wizard–and it’s very over the top from a modern sensibility, but it’s charming also. Haley (replacing Buddy Ebsen, famously made ill by the makeup) gives the Tin Man a kind of mincing quality; Bolger’s charm is more restrained (especially given they cut his wildest dance number).

If you’re even reading this, odds are good you’ve seen this movie, but on the chance you haven’t, it’s definitely of its time and a bit weird, but it holds up. If you haven’t seen it in a while, it’s worth revisiting. Appreciate it for the classic songs and elaborate dance sequences. Enjoy it for the balls-out color, uncanny backdrops, and wild performances. Enjoy it for a story that started as an allegory for the politics of grange farming (or something, it’s been a while since I read the book) but has been distilled down to its most innocent, imaginative essence. Enjoy it because it’s strange and fantastical and does sync up surprisingly well with Dark Side of the Moon (for the first half or so at least). But it’s part of the culture, embedded so deep in the collective unconscious, it is a thing you should know.