In Ingrid Bergman’s autobiography, she writes about how much she enjoyed filming 1945’s The Bells of St. Mary’s. She attributed that feeling to being able to eat as much ice cream as she wanted, as she is clad throughout the film in a nun’s habit. I suspect she exaggerated her increased size during this shoot, though it is hard to gauge her size in such a loose-fitting garment. I only know she is gorgeous even when all you can see of her is her face.
This would be only film where she starred alongside Bing Crosby. That actor brings his usual relaxed brand of professionalism to the proceedings, playing what may be the most world-wise priest to ever grace the screen at that time.
His character has come to St. Mary’s to assume control of the parochial school after the previous head was whisked off to a sanitarium in a wheelchair while muttering to himself. Crosby is warned of likely conflicts to result from working alongside the sisters. As his housekeeper remarks: “I see you don’t know what it’s like to be up to your neck in nuns.”
Really, the conflicts end up being rather gentle. The earlier priest that had a breakdown either seriously butted heads with the nuns or was a bit too sensitive. I suspect the latter.
The only real disagreements between the leads concern a boy who won’t stand up for himself and a girl who Crosby doesn’t want Bergman to fail. Although opposed to violence, it is Bergman who teaches for boy how to fight. In this memorable scene, her reaction to getting socked in the jaw (by a child, no less) is priceless. The girl’s predicament is less straightforward, as she inwardly is struggling to accept the things her single mom likely has had to do to provide for them.
How the script handles the backstory of her mother is surprisingly progressive for the time. It is not explicitly stated what she has had to do, but I felt it was strongly suggested she is, or has been, a prostitute. That Crosby’s character is sympathetic towards her was a very pleasant surprise. That said, he also manages to bring her missing husband home, and I’m not sure how I feel about him meddling with that.
Instead of conflicts within the school administration, the main driver for the plot is the modern building Henry Travers is erecting in the lot right next to the school. Before the construction, this is where the schoolkids used to play. Not only is that playground now gone, but Travers has plans in place to have the school demolished, so that his new office building will have a parking lot. And here I thought public transportation was so much more popular back then, yet here we have a company where everybody drives to work. I bet he doesn’t even encourage carpooling.
Even when watching this for the first time, I think the average viewer will be able to guess how every plot development will turn out. Bergman has been praying for God to convince Travers to donate his building to the nuns for it to become the new school. Might Travers have a fatal illness? Might this convince him to commit a hugely generous act? But, wait, will it be discovered Bergman also has a terminal illness? Say it ain’t so!
The movie’s best aspect is its gentle humor. There’s a good bit when Crosby first talks to the collected nuns and he is dismayed to find them laughing frequently during his serious speech. Only at the end, does he discover a kitten on the mantle behind him has been frolicking with his straw hat. Just to be clear: that is Crosby’s hat, so this isn’t some anthropomorphic cat about to do a vaudeville number (no matter how much I want to see a kitten do “jazz hands”).
I watched this on the deluxe edition of the Olive Films blu-ray. There are a number of welcome special features. One is an interview with Prof. Emily Carman, who discusses the nature of sequels as this film was, unbeknownst to me, a follow-up to the wildly successful Going My Way (which I have yet to watch). Another interesting piece has film historian Steve Massa providing a brief biography of director Leo McCarey.
But the most relevant, and most enjoyable, special feature has Sr. Rose Pacatte providing a nun’s perspective on the how faith is portrayed in this and other films. She tells an amusing story about scraping together money for movies when she was a kid, by going to the laundromat and finding quarters that fell between the machines. I liked how the first movie she can remember seeing was House on Haunted Hill, when she was seven.
She recalls seeing St. Mary’s for the first time shortly after entering the convent. She was upset the priest is given the power to withhold information from Bergman information about her illness. I know I was upset by that plot point as well. Pacatte explains Crosby’s priest is given too much authority over the nuns.
One aspect of the film she especially appreciated was the moment when Bergman tells Patricia the convent is not something to be joined because you’re running away from something but, instead, because you are running towards God.
I liked The Bells of St. Mary’s, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say I loved it. Even for this type of fare, it felt a bit too contrived and almost cloyingly sweet. So I will turn it over to Sister Pacatte for the final words in this essay, in what I think is a very nice assessment: “Some people think this film is too sugary. Sometimes, sugar is OK”
Dir: Leo McCarey
Starring Bing Crosby, Ingrid Bergman, Henry Travers
Watched on Olive Signature Collection blu-ray