Also where the boys are

Back in Omaha, Flanagan is working at his mission when a group of kids playing in the street get much too rowdy. The break the window of one of the store owners, and that owner is understandably not pleased at all, considering how much it will cost to replace. And stuff like this has happened one time too often. So this time, the storekeeper decides not to vouch for the children or accept a fine, and let justice take its course, which for the boys is going to mean the reformatory since they're all much too young for prison.

Fr. Flanagan is horrified, since he knows reform school isn't going to do the kids any good. Indeed, he just got back from talking to one such guy who was "helped" by a stint in reform school, and look where that got him. Flanagan also believes that there's no such thing as a truly bad child. So he offers to take custody of these kids (if they don't have parents, you wonder why they weren't in an orphange) in excange for keeping them out of reform school. The judge relents.

But it's going to take money, and that's money that Flanagan doesn't really have. The local bishop (Minor Watson) would like to help, but thinks that not only is the case futile, he realizes that there are a lot of powerful interests in the press and elsewhere who don't like the idea for a bunch of reasons, some good and some not so good. It falls to Mr. Morris (Henry Hull), who runs a pawn shop, to help fund the house by giving Flanagan loans he knows are never going to get repaid.

Flanagan struggles for a year, but eventually finds a piece of farmland, and realizes the fresh air and physical labor would be just the thing for his young charges. And, having helped build the buildings, the boys should be more or less allowed to run the place, at least to the extent that minor children can run their own affairs, so kind of like a boarding school honor code, but a way of helping teach these children how to become good little citizens.

And that's only the first half of the movie. If you saw the opening credits, you'd have seen Mickey Rooney's name right next to Spencer Tracy's, and we haven't seen Rooney yet. Joe Marsh (Edward Norris) is a boy who had run in the same circles as the ones who wound up in Boys Town, but he's wound up robbing banks to the point that he's about to be sent to prison. He has a kid brother, Whitey (that's Mickey Rooney) he's been trying to raise, and even has a bit of money set aside for the kid. So perhaps Fr. Flanagan could appeal to Whitey to come to Boys Town?

The rest of the movie should be pretty obvious. Whitey doesn't like the idea of Boys Town, since he's the sort of kid that would be constantly getting into trouble, gambling and smoking and other such rule-breaking. He does of course eventually go to Boys Town, but he acts as if he should rightfully own the place and everybody should bow down before him. He's going to be redeemed, but it's going to take a crisis of conscience.

It's easy to see why Boys Town was a box office smash when it was released in 1938. It's one of those feel-good movies, at a time when there was still a depression on in the US and international events were getting darker. MGM turns on the mawk, and pours it on and on as only MGM could -- I can only imagine if Warner Bros. had tried to make this story it would have been rather darker. Surprisingly enough, however, it works. Spencer Tracy was beginning to get more into his fatherly roles when he got to MGM, and is perfectly cast as Fr. Flanagan. Mickey Rooney in many ways takes his Andy Hardy character and adds on the MGM view of what juvenile delinquency was like, or at least as much as they could show it in a prestige movie.

So if, like me, you actually haven't seen Boys Town yet, do yourself a favor and watch it.