Like most Hollywood musical biographies, Yankee Doodle Dandy plays fast and loose with its versions of the facts, but also does a really fine job of keeping you hooked in thanks to great casting, a zippy pace and plenty of great, memorable scenes. James Cagney’s performance as George M. Cohan is thrilling enough (he rightfully won an Academy Award for it), but every other actor playing a major role here does an excellent job or keeping up with Cagney’s fast-talking, speak-singing, loose-limbed portrayal of the legendary multi-talented entertainer.

Released in 1942 to a country recently plunged into the Second World War, the sheer level of flag-waving, heart-clutching, voice booming Pledge of Allegiance patriotism here is eye-popping to the point of unintentionally funny, but it manages to works flawlessly as a morale booster of the highest order. It’s also a pretty decent comedy when it needs to be, as George’s early days are well-played by a young actor who nails his part for some early comic gold before succeeding his part to the snappier, snazzier Cagney.

Right away, the film kicks off with a fib where Cohan is summoned to the White House alone to meet with President Roosevelt, who just so happens to have time to listen to him tell his life story in flashback form (Hey, don’t you have a war to run?). Thankfully, as soon as this part of the film kicks off, you’ll forget all about that implausibility and get with the smiling and top-tapping from those vintage tunes. The film breezes through the lives and careers of the famous traveling troupe The Four Cohans through their ups and downs, young George’s ego causing major problems for the family and him striking out on his own so they could continue to perform after he’s pretty much blacklisted after pulling one too many stunts.

Douglas Croft plays a 13-year old Cohan as driven, smug and (almost, but not quite) too smart for his own good. He knows he’s talented at an early age (the Peck’s Bad Boy scene is pretty hilarious), but as noted, the film juggles the truth quite a bit before and after it shifts to Cagney’s portrayal. Those balls deftly zipping around in the air combine his two wives into one (Joan Lesile’s incredible performance as Mary), The Five Cohan period, Cohan’s divorce and remarriage and even a few family deaths are never or barely mentioned. Granted, this was most likely to keep the film as happy, snappy, toe-tappy audience friendly and patriotic as possible, so the shorthand is a mostly forgivable offense.

Speaking of offense, some viewers today may find the very brief blackface routine the Cohans do early on a necessary and annoying reminder of what was considered acceptable as “entertainment” for decades in America. It’s actually a good thing that it’s here in terms of historical purposes, although I’d imagine the actual routine may have been longer as you probably wouldn’t break out the greasepaint and charcoal for a quickie number in the middle of a show unless you had a few acts padding out the time it took to wash that stuff off an change before you had to rush back on for your next number.

Anyway, once Cagney gets to dancing and singing, you won’t be counting the missing facts or getting upset about the “old days” at all. Mimicking Cohan’s somewhat wacky dancing style, he’s like a marionette with loose legs and arms with a solid torso that only bends at the waist in one direction. It’s pretty remarkable watching his hoofing as he speak-sings through Cohan’s most memorable tunes. Rousing performances of “Give My Regards to Broadway”, “It’s a Grand Old Flag” and yes, “Yankee Doodle Dandy” are highlights here, especially when you see what looks like dozens or hundreds of actors on stage marching together as flag-waving tunes blast from your TV. Cagney’s performance is equaled by Joan Leslie (who was all of 17 at the time!) and Irene Manning’s wonderful Fay Templeton (who makes you forget about Cagney every second she’s on screen). Walter Houston and Rosemary DeCamp play George’s parents with humor and enough spirit to keep the early to middle portions of the film flowing.

Still, any lingering negative brain fumes about the blackface scene earlier will either be squashed completely or mildly to moderately amplified depending on who you watch this with by a scene within the “It’s a Grand Old Flag” sequence that has black actors portraying freed slaves pretty much worshiping an Abe Lincoln statue before the scene fades to the next big number in this biggest number in the film. Of course, the filmmakers didn’t realize that it would take a few decades for some of the mentality in this country about race to slowly and painfully shift in the right direction, so again, any offense here is easily forgiven.

Given the war footing the country was on, it’s very clear that this was a film made for every American who could pack into a movie theater, as it also doubles as effective military recruitment propaganda on a few fronts. In the scene where the 39-year old Cohan tries to join the Army and is rejected for being too old, only to bust out one of his patented dance routines and later, inspired by a band playing outside the recruitment station, write “Over There” (which also gets a nicely rousing “live” performance in front of a camp full of singing WWI soldiers). Cohan retires from the stage, but is called back to play FDR in the Rodgers and Hart musical “I’d Rather Be Right” (and Cagney’s performance of “Off the Record” is excellent), which leads right back to him sitting in the Oval Office telling FDR his story.

After he’s awarded the first ever Congressional Gold Medal given to a stage performer, the film ends with a quick dance down a flight of steps and another performance of “Over Here” as a parade of new troops is headed off to fight in the new war. By this point, you’ll be wanting to run out and buy a crate full of American flag products (hopefully made IN America) and join any one of the armed forces or more realistically, eat about twenty grilled or boiled hot dogs with bright yellow mustard on cheap, squishy white bread rolls, wash them down with a gallon of Coke or Pepsi and pass out on the sofa. I’m a 4F kinda guy, so I have to choose the latter option, minus all the nitrates, caffeine and cancer-causing caramel coloring. A bison burger or two and a can of decent white birch beer and I’m good for the evening…