MYTHICITY: (1) *fair*, (2) *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *comedy*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical*
When Dolly Parton made these two made-for-TV fantasy movies, one ten years after the other, she certainly didn't need the money thanks to her consistent musical success over the years. But as I thought about it, Dolly's appearances on TV were probably more important to mainstreaming both her persona and her musical work than the big screen. Only three of her theatrical films scored big with audiences, and I'd argue that even with the best writers and directors available in Hollywood, her folksy nature wasn't the sort of thing Hollywood was good at channeling. TV, though, may also have offered Dolly and her people more control over her role in the projects. And aside from all the business considerations, Dolly *seems* to me like the sort of performer who genuinely enjoyed doing her thing, and TV has the advantage of being able to disseminate lots of material, very quickly.
The story of A SMOKY MOUNTAIN CHRISTMAS is credited to Dolly (one of two TV-films whose scripts have her name on them) and to a journeyman writer of TV scripts, William Bleich, while the director was Henry "Fonzie" Winkler. While Dolly's public persona was that of a country girl who never deserted her roots, SMOKY begins with Dolly's character Lorna, also a country singer, being estranged from her roots-- for about five minutes. Lorna gets fed up with Hollywood and decides to take off for a cabin in the Smokies, just to get away from it all, She leaves so precipitately that her manager thinks she's been kidnapped-- which never becomes important to the story-- but a paparazzi named Harry knows the truth, and he tails Lorna, thinking to find some great story.
Well, there's a great story in SMOKY, but it's named "Snow White," which is what Dolly and Bleich were re-arranging for their Xmas effort. Shortly after Dolly gets stopped on the road by randy cop Jensen (Bo Hopkins), she goes on her way, and then Jensen is "pulled over" by a comely lady on a horse, one Jezebel (Anita Morris). Not only does their conversation establish that Jezebel is a bonafide Smoky Mountain witch, she also tips the writers' hands by asking Jensen "who's prettier?"
And in case that parallel doesn't sink in for some viewers, Dolly and her colleague throw the next folklore-motif right in the audience's face-- for who does Lorna meet at the cabin, but seven little people? Okay, they're seven orphans who escaped the orphanage, and most of them don't parallel the famous Disney versions. Except one kid, who alone doesn't welcome the lovely visitor to the cabin, who might as well be called "Grumpy." But he's overruled by the other children, who are happy to adopt Lorna as their makeshift momma, one complete with songbird talents. Lorna's motives in accepting the gig are more dubious. She wanted to get back to her roots so that she could create new songs, not an ersatz family. But her maternal instincts come to the fore, and eventually she finds herself defending "her" kids from the evils of child services. She even finds a "prince" in the form of a mysterious recluse named "Mountain Dan," played by none other than Lee Majors. Dolly and Majors don't have any romantic chemistry, but the script is pretty much sticking the "Snow White and her Prince" on the backburner in favor of more kid-stuff.
Witch Jezebel offers more narrative interest, and director Winkler does his best visuals with the sorceress showing off her mountain-magic. Her motives too don't bear much examination either, Since Jensen doesn't keep pursuing Lorna, Jezebel's enmity is explained by her misperception that Lorna is a "White Witch." This eventually leads to Jezebel trying to put Lorna into a deep sleep with a magic pie (a little "Sleeping Beauty" dropped in), and though Lorna is saved from eternal rest, it isn't through her romance with her Prince. Anyway, the main thing is that Dolly smiles a lot and sings some forgettable songs, so there was a little fun to see the country girl face, and defeat, rural magic.
But there's not even a modicum of fun to be had with the ten-years-later UNLIKELY ANGEL. Oddly, it starts out with another version of Dolly, known this time as "Ruby," who initially sounds like she sleeps around quite a bit-- though the language is purposefully vague, in case any kids might be watching. Ruby dies in a car crash and finds herself at the Pearly Gates. She meets Saint Peter (Roddy MacDowall), who tells her she's not admissible to Heaven, unlike most of her family, because she was selfish and only did what she wanted in life. But she can redeem herself if she returns to Earth and brings together a widower and his estranged kids. However, she's not allowed to have any romantic relationships herself, because, after all, she's dead.
Th writers might have found some balance between Ruby's original selfishness and her intention to be a Good Samaritan to the widower and kids. But the script doesn't follow through on the imputation of selfishness. As soon as Ruby becomes housekeeper to the widower-- for whom she eventually has feelings, of course-- she turns into a super-cheery version of Mary Poppins. There's no clear villain this time, only the ticking clock of Heaven's whims-- and all the kid-stuff that was moderately diverting in SMOKY is just boring here. Again, Dolly smiles and Dolly sings, so for those things alone, ANGEL isn't a total loss.
Meager as these TV-films are, they're probably Dolly's best offerings in metaphenomenal entertainment, when compared with her ill-advised guest appearance on an episode of Seth MacFarlane's wretched STAR TREK imitation THE ORVILLE. Despite her "larger-than-life" nature, Dolly was probably better suited for sassy but down-to-earth comedies and doleful melodramas. But given how many other gifts she had, it's too much to expect her to be good at *everything.*
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