A dark comedy of almost Shakespearean scope: Sullivan's Travels

Hadn't seen Preston Sturges's 1941 Sullivan's Travels since, I don't know, grad-school days, but decided to turn back to some classics that I've seen but largely forgotten and was completely enthralled with this one: sure it's quaint to see a b/w film with the many long reaction shots, the strong emphasis on dialog (more out of the stage tradition than into the cinematic tradition),, and the odious orchestral score that directors still favored back in that era, but these antiquities aside it's a great story - funny, moving without being corny (it does take a shot at Capra, and at a few other directors of the day as well), meaningful without being preachy. In fact, that's the theme of the movie: a great movie doesn't have to carry a message, it's OK just to make people laugh, and perhaps think a little, as well. Briefly, movie is about director of successful comedies, Sullivan (Joel McCrea) who wants to make a meaningful film about all the suffering people in the country (this is still a Depression-era film, shot just before U.S. entry into the war); the studio guys tell him he'd do a lousy job because he knows nothing about suffering (true for all of them, as they recognize), so he goes off on his travels to see how the poor and desperate live. What starts off rather comically - with a whole film crew following him on his journeys, and he can't get away from Hollywood - gradually becomes darker, as he hops a freight with other desperate people, mostly men, and does manage to get a sense of their dangerous lives. Among the tremendously beautiful scenes are the crowds in the railroad yards, the men sitting in the church service and then crowded together on the church floor during the night, the prison barracks, and especially the black country church - the service, the hymn (Go Down, Moses), and the prisoners shuffling in to join the congregation. The dialog is sharp and witty, the ending a sweet and romantic, but there are many dark moments in this comedy that give it a broad, almost Shakespearean scope.