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Pollyanna

A pretty good kid.

“Pollyanna” has become a byword for obnoxious, willfully obtuse sunniness, but Pollyanna herself, at least as portrayed by Hayley Mills in the 1960 Disney film, deserves better. Plenty of that is down to a smart script–also by Swift, the man behind The Parent Trap and How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying–which grounds Pollyanna and her “glad game” in a mostly realistic world of small town power tensions and power squabbles, but even more of it is down to Mills, one of the most endearing child stars of all time.

Pollyanna has a simple story. An orphan moves to an unhappy town genteelly (but unofficially) ruled over by her frosty, mannered Aunt Polly (Jane Wyman). Pollyanna spreads good cheer, a bright-side philosophy, and an appreciation for the small pleasures of life, and this helps transform Harrington into a better, happier place.1

Sure, from that, you can understand why it feels axiomatic that this kid would be unbelievably annoying. But Mills gives her an incredible natural warmth and a believable childishness, one that especially comes out–temperamentally so–when she’s interacting with another child, Kevin Corcoran’s Jimmy Bean. Her occasional bursts of bossiness and lip-chewing mulling help sell her as a real child, one who can’t always live up to the aspirations towards the gladness instilled by her minister father. She’s good–brave and empathetic–but she’s not actually a goody two-shoes. She’ll lie rather than snitch, but she’ll let someone twist about a bit before she makes that clear. All of this captures that Pollyanna’s cheerfulness, like her father’s, is a conscious choice, one that it’s sometimes a lot harder to make than others. That makes it a practice, and framing it that way makes it more believable to see others adopting it.

The cast around Mills is also very good, with Agnes Moorehead and Karl Malden probably taking my favorite roles. Moorehead is a hypochondriac who’s become tyrannical in her supposed illness, and while Pollyanna brightens her sickroom life, it’s realizing she’s hurt Pollyanna–that her luxuriating in her prospective death has become too much for this recent orphan to handle–that really changes her. Malden plays the town’s minister, whose fire-and-brimstone sermon was the only thing I remembered about this from my childhood viewing (yes, I was scared of Pollyanna). Reverend Ford isn’t always a hellfire preacher at heart, though: he’s repeatedly coaxed into it by a micromanaging Aunt Polly who encourages him to see the town as a flock in the worst sense, a group to be mistrusted and managed, not celebrated and cared for. Ford gets owned–and transformed–by Pollyanna in absentia, and the moment packs a surprising amount of punch. I don’t know how well children at the time appreciated an adult suddenly confronting the last few wasted, uselessly subservient years of his life, but it’s good to have moments in family movies that their young audiences can grow into. You’ll recognize these disappointments when they come for you one day, kids!

Pollyanna is streaming on Disney+.

  1. And then there’s a last-minute possible paralysis plotline, just as a jolt of melodrama. It’s not necessary and not all that well-done, but it’s not enough to kill the movie’s charm. ↩︎