by Nick Taylor
Love Finds Andy Hardy is the fifth of sixteen films made about the life of its titular character, and one of three Andy Hardy films released in 1938. It's also first of threeto feature Judy Garland as Betsy Booth, the shy out-of-towner girl nursing a crush on Andy. This marks the first Andy Hardy movie I’ve seen, and given my severe allergy to Mickey Rooney I might leave it here for now. That being said, my dislike of Rooney pales in comparison to my adoration of Garland's lovely, roseate performance.
Our story begins in early December. Andy Hardy (Mickey Rooney) has just learned from his girlfriend Polly Benedict (Ann Rutherford) that she’ll be visiting family for Christmas, meaning she won’t be able to attend the town’s dance. Andy is distraught, but an unexpected opportunity arises when his friend Beezy asks him to date his girlfriend Cynthia (Lana Turner) for a few weeks. He doesn’t want some other guy making the moves on his girl while he’s gone...
Several such storylines are introduced before we meet Garland’s Betsy, who’ll be visiting the town for Christmas. She’s heard about Andy from her grandmother, and spends much of the winter helping him out of trouble while nursing an unrequited crush. If you’re reading all of this and expecting the film to be a corny, alright time with some unexpectedly touching and weirdly skeevy moments, you’d be right! Love Finds Andy Hardy is more tonally and narratively consistent than the previously discussed 1938 Garland vehicle Listen, Darling. It’s also a better showcase for her talents. Credit is due to George B. Seitz’s strong directorial hand, and to the greater sense of audience sympathy inherent in Betsy Booth’s arc - though if kidnapping your mom out of some sense of familial obligation is more relatable than pining for someone who hasn’t noticed you, more power to you.
Even taking these elements into consideration, it’s clear how much Garland herself is responsible for making Betsy so endearing. Betsy gets a wonderful entrance, sitting in the backseat of a nice car and asking Mr. Hardy for directions to her grandparent's house before the two eagerly talk about their families. She's instantly believable as a twelve-year-old girl despite being almost sixteen during filming. Her enthusiastic declaration that one day she’ll be a big star like her mother, followed by telling Mr. Hardy with great seriousness that she’s been studying at it, is all we need from Garland to know who this introspective, determined kid is. Betsy looks practically starstruck when she hears she’ll be spending Christmas next door to the Andy Hardy, who sounds so wonderful in grandmother’s letters. Garland plays Betsy’s romantic ambitions sincerely but not one-dimensionally, neither sacrificing her sense of self nor reducing her reactions to just mooning after him. She’s a brightly reactive screen partner, not just listening to Andy but thinking about how she might respond to him, whether she’s said the right thing, puzzling over why he hasn’t fallen for her and what she might do to get him to really notice her. Garland let's you practically can watch thoughts bubbling above Betsy's head.
Frankly, Andy’s an idiot for not seeing how special Betsy is (even if not contemplating going out with a preteen is among his nobler qualities), though we can at least extend him credit for recognizing what a wonderful friend she is. Their energy together is terrific, with Rooney’s firmly platonic exuberance connecting beautifully with Garland’s mixture of real companionship and schoolgirl infatuation. Hell, Betsy’s not just a great confidant but a better schemer than he is. Witness how easy it is for her to trick Cynthia into dumping Andy, keeping a straight face until the deed is done and she bursts into laughter. She elicits an occasionally less obnoxious performance from Rooney than he gives elsewhere. He in turn is charming enough towards her that we understand his appeal to Betsy as a person and as an ideal in her quest to become a true-blue grown-up. Minus his completely deranged belief that singing isn’t the most important thing in the world, Betsy seems like she either has a pretty solid grasp of who Andy is from her grandmother’s letters or is able to figure him out once she meets him. Betsy’s clear preoccupation with Andy and analyzing what their relationship says about her own identity is the only major arc in the film, and Garland invests it with real emotional weight.
What makes Garland’s performance so endearing is her ability to imbue Betsy’s essential, unflagging goodness with real melancholy, and managing to play a self-conscious character without being vain. When she offers to buy something nice for Andy, Garland fully refuses any notion that Betsy is trying to buy her way into his heart. Her many attempts to do something nice for him read like the well-meaning actions of someone who is mrely trying to make life easier for a friend who means a lot to them. She’s also visibly saddened when Andy says he's dating Polly, and is similarly confused when her attempts to impress him don’t work as planned. It certainly doesn’t help that Andy’s repeated insistence his date for the Christmas Eve ball must be “sensational”, combined with his inability to consider asking her out, intersects so perfectly with Betsy’s private fears about not having any glamour. Garland gets to distill these emotions halfway into the film via the song “In Between”, and it’s astonishing to hear her so effortless imbue it with might and feeling.
Garland gets a second opportunity to sing near the end of the film, once Betsy is whisked onstage at the Christmas Eve ball by an old friend from New York. Her performance is so euphorically received by the whole town that she’s asked to lead the grand march. And she does, on the condition that she leads with Andy, who is more than happy to oblige this wish. It’s the biggest high in the movie, and it’s Betsy herself who crashes that high once the march ends, having finally realized Andy will never be hers even as he’s finally noticed how sensational she is. But she did get her first sense of what adulthood will be like. Betsy confides this to Andy with the thoughtfulness of a young person who's keenly aware they've just experienced something they'll remember forever, even as her line readings and expressions suggest she's a bit bashful at saying it all out loud. Garland caps it off with a blink before leaving for Christmas presents. It's an unexpectedly mature note for her performance to end on, one that highlights how much Betsy has grown over the course of the film while still retaining her openness. By the same token, we're aware that Garland has crafted an honest, heartfelt portrait of nascent adolesence, partnered with a film and a star that often settle for cheese. Who cares what finds Andy Hardy, especially when Judy Garland reveals Betsy Booth with all the sensitivity she deserves.
