Since Netflix put the newly-remastered version of The Wizard of Oz up for free streaming for 24 hours over the weekend, we added it to the Roku and watched it on Saturday morning. It was the first time I’d seen it in probably 20 years, having previously seen it only on broadcast TV when somebody ran it in prime time once a year, and I don’t think the kids had ever seen it.

It was certainly entertaining and interesting seeing it again, especially after having recently watched the much darker (but not that much) Return to Oz film, and having read the original Baum novels and being exposed to various other derivative works in the intervening years. My memories of the film were certainly faulty; I enjoyed it, but found myself remembering things that weren’t actually there (such as Baum’s concept of the Emerald City being green because visitors were required to wear green-tinted glasses). While the flying monkeys were still pretty creepy (to the point where Catherine got more than a little worried when they were chasing Toto and throwing big foam polearm/spears), I didn’t realize that there were relatively few actual monkeys; most of the Witch’s minons were actually guys in green greasepaint and Kossack costumes. The painted sets, were, however, even more gorgeously surreal (if stagey) than I remember. Also, the urban legend can be reliably refuted; thats not a suiciding munchkin in the background – it’s clearly a crane (y’know, the bird) and he’s actually pretty distracting in high definition.

The biggest thing that jumped out at me though, was the portrayal of Dorothy’s companions on the Yellow Brick Road. I now finally understand the entomology of the term “Friend of Dorothy; after watching the film again, I’m forced to revise my understanding of this euphemism for homosexuality from an oblique reference to the status of Judy Garland as a gay icon to a direct comparison to her companions on the path to the Emerald City. In all my viewings of the film, I never quite realized the Tin Man was so fabulous*.

I’m not saying that these portrayals don’t work in the context of the film, given the adaptation’s roots in musical theater (especially because every actor in the production is emoting for the stage and not necessarily the camera, with the requisite broad expressions and gestures suited more for live theater than film), but I never, in any of my previous screenings of the film, noticed how camp the whole thing was; If Nathan Lane were to pick up the axe in a hypothetical shot-for-shot modern remake, he’d have to play up his, uh, unique presence a bit to match Jack Haley’s performance.

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* – The Cowardly Lion, sure…everybody got that one. But my imperfect memory cast the Tin Man as a bit more macho.