Do you think of America in the 1950s as a more innocent time?

You often hear that assumption — and it always drives me crazy. It overlooks the pressure-packed traumas the nation faced then, such as Atomic War fears, the global Communist threat, the domestic anti-Communist hysteria, juvenile delinquents and a system of racial and religious prejudice that amounted to Apartheid.
And yet — that damned TV show Happy Days convinced people that the 1950s were a fun, larky time.

 Analyzing any culture via its TV shows and movies is a risky thing. But, of course, I’m as guilty as any dead-trees pontificator. When I was an impressionable teen I read Siegfried Kracauer’s book,
From Caligari to Hitler, which posits that the German people of the 1930s were deeply affected by those dark, nihilistic German movies of the 1920s and ’30s and were thus conditioned to accept a brute, authoritarian leadership like the Nazis who would restore much-needed order.

Superficial, you say? Now I wonder, but you can’t shake off those early influences. And my best friends now know to run screaming from the room when I launch into yet another tirade about our present video-game culture.

Our cover girl, Lucille Ball, reminds me of another influential book of my life, Popcorn Venus, by Marjorie Rosen, which looks at the shifting portrayals of women in movies. During World War II, women were often portrayed as sturdy defenders of the home front. In the 1950s (oops!) Hollywood served up women as sex kittens, schemers and dunces.

But no feminist campaigner could ever take issue with Lucy and her iconic ditziness. She was simply beloved. And maybe we all knew that she was really a smart and savvy woman. For instance, she and husband Desi Arnaz accepted seriously reduced salaries to do that show in exchange for eventual ownership of the property. After their divorce, Lucy took out a loan and bought out Desi’s half of Desilu Productions (which was making other shows like Our Miss Brooks and The Untouchables) for $3 million and quickly became one of the most powerful women in Hollywood.

Lucy was a wacky redhead? Nah. Her real hair color was actually chestnut. And as a character, she’d take no nonsense. If she saw a problem, she’d throw herself into fixing it with a furious energy. How could we not identify as we struggle with our own crazy lives? Even the most rigorously organized among us is going to have a “Lucy Moment” some sunny day. Anyone who has ever bolted down a 264-ounce cup of coffee and then sped out on the highway knows about this. When you see the sign “Next Rest Stop 64 Miles,” you’ve just had your Lucy Moment.

So what did I learn when I watched Lucy’s battles with the Westport authorities? Probably what I learned from Mad magazine, the Beatles and other cultural way stations of the time: You better start laughing, fella.
Gosh, it now all seems so ... innocent.

— CHRIS HODENFIELD
Editor, Westport Magazine