If you are a fan of horror films, this is your season and tonight is your night. There’s lots to choose from in the categories of suspense, supernatural creepiness and gore. But for me, one of the most evocative representations of Halloween is in the Hollywood classic Meet Me in St. Louis. Released in 1944, directed by Vincente Minnelli and starring Judy Garland (among others), the movie follows a family through the seasons of the year that lead up to the 1904 World’s Fair.
The film was based on a book, which was a compilation of short stories originally published in the New Yorker magazine. It’s a musical (natch), and includes famous numbers like “The Trolley Song” and “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” The “Autumn” section of the story focuses on Tootie, the youngest sister of four, who dresses herself up in rags and a fake mustache and goes outside after dark on Halloween to make mischief with the older children.
As the kids run through the street stoking a bonfire with refuse (it was a different time!), Tootie rushes up to join them. She tries to participate, but is first ignored, and then pushed aside and told she is too little to be part of the mayhem. It is not until she goes, by herself, and throws flour in the face of the owner of the most frightening house in the neighborhood that she is cheered by the other kids and, finally, takes her place among the revelers.
Actor Margaret O’Brien was only six years old when she played Tootie in this film, but somehow her performance captures perfectly the ageless human longing to be included; the lengths to which people will go to be part of a crew. And in a twisted and semi-comic way, the film suggests that the most frightening thing of all is not the dark of night, or the ghouls around us, or authoritarian menace. Instead, it’s isolation; feeling disconnected and shut out.
Our faith tells us that Jesus Christ is the ultimate response to isolation. Our discipleship calls us to follow Him in connecting people to one another and to God. As we celebrate All Saints Day this weekend, we remember those who have modeled this radical sense of belonging—no extreme behavior required, mischief optional. And we give thanks for all the saints who have diluted human loneliness with their active, embodied love.
