Kismet

Had Harold Arlen and E.Y. Harburg written anything memorable from this version of Kismet, Robert Wright and Chet Forrest might not have ever adapted Alexander Borodin's music to make their acclaimed version of Kismet in the fifties. We should all be the poorer for that.

Music is the weak spot in this version of Kismet, the songs sung by Joy Page and Marlene Dietrich aren't anything memorable. But classical American actor Otis Skinner who created the role of Hajj on Broadway back in 1911 is replaced by probably the only man in Hollywood who could have made that Edwardian dialog palatable to modern ears. Of course that would be Ronald Colman, a man I could get joy listening to him recite Buffalo Phone Directory.

This was one of MGM's biggest productions in the Forties, they splurged for technicolor and if you're going to have Marlene Dietrich play the seductive princess go for the gold. Lots of delightful cries emerged from cinema audiences when those golden painted legs of Dietrich were shown. Even on television they're still quite a sight.

Unfortunately the sound version of Kismet that Otis Skinner made in 1930 for Warner Brothers appears to be a lost film so we can't compare his interpretation of the lead with Colman. But in watching Colman's performance it seemed to be his Francois Villon aged so that he now had a teenage daughter. Anyway, it works beautifully.

James Craig is the earnest young caliph who I kept expecting to sing A Stranger in Paradise and Edward Arnold is the villainous vizier. Mr. Arnold played him like the political boss of ancient Bagdad.

MGM also filmed the better known musical version of Kismet with Howard Keel, Ann Blyth, and Vic Damone putting their marvelous voices to that classical score. That version has the music no doubt, but this one has Colman and Dietrich, so take your choice and you can't go wrong with either.

Often overshadowed these days by the musical version which came a decade later, this film by William Dieterle has the distinction of being one of the best examples of a 1940s Technicolor film there is. And with colour, no one shone out from the screen more than Marlene Dietrich. Here she is as Jamilla, garlanded in gold and looking positively luminous - her appearance in this movie alone would justify watching it.

Ronald Colman, that debonair English actor, plays the role of the beggar, Hafiz (which would be memorably played by Howard Keel in the musical). He's a little starchy and looks prematurely middle-aged, but he was always a very good actor, and here is no exception. James Craig is colourless as the Caliph but Edward Arnold and Hugh Herbert add humour as the Grand Vizier and Feisal.

The strength of this 'Kismet' though it definitely how it looks. It is how the films of the golden era were at their peak, and this version doesn't get shown on TV anywhere near enough.

Third movie version of popular story involving beggar/magician in Bagdad who impersonates a prince. Meanwhile, the beggar's daughter falls for a camel-boy who's really a prince in disguise! Somehow, Marlene Dietrich gets shoehorned in playing sheltered royalty who rebels by doing a hot dance routine which must've been pretty risqué for 1944 (she's slathered in gold paint). MGM adventure does a nice job rewriting the original play by Edward Knoblock, featuring a colorful production and welcome comedic elements. It's jaunty fun with a fairly fast pace, hindered only by Ronald Coleman's miscasting in the lead (and his surprising lack of chemistry opposite Dietrich). Nominated for four Oscars, including Charles Rosher for his cinematography. Remade as a musical in 1955. **1/2 from ****

William Dieterle directing, music by Harold Arlen (there's even a tiny bit of the Witch's Guard music at one point!), opulent sets and gorgeous costumes, Ronald Colman -- what more could anyone ask?

The film was very carefully crafted. Even the bit players -- especially Henry Davenport and Florence Bates -- were perfect. From the beginning, you are immersed in a magical world, an Iraq that died long ago, the Islam of Arabian Nights and Haroun el-Raschid, a romantic culture with its own philosophies and mysteries. Karsha foretelling the future with a sand reading, the muezzin and his apprentice singing the call to prayer, or the public bathing place that the rascals hide in, give the film a sense not only of unity and atmosphere but of meticulous attention to detail.

Dietrich's character was not Greek but Macedonian (like Alexander the Great, another blonde). I could have stood for more authenticity in her dance (especially after the Kraft girls who preceded her -- their Deva Dasi style dance *was* pretty authentic) and that gold paint was a little much. Still, the idea was that Jamilla was wild, and did unconventional things.

I do see where it could have been better. Craig in particular sounds jarringly "modern". But you forget that after a while. Modern films don't present this kind of idealism. We have to have everything brought down to sordid reality. A thing like this is good for you after too much "realism" gunk.

'Kismet' marked Marlene Dietrich's final concession to Hollywood frivolity before getting into uniform for the sake of war work in Europe by appearing in Metro's version of the sort of Technicolor nonsense Maria Montez was currently making for Universal; albeit with a much starrier cast.

An Arabian Nights fantasy of the type being made back in Germany when William Dieterle was there directing silents (including a couple featuring Dietrich) with remarkably similar production design. Despite Ronald Colman's usual quiet authority in the lead, its most memorable feature has to be Dietrich performing - in the only one of her four scenes lasting longer than a minute - an exotic 'dance' with - as Elkan Allan once described it - "that fabulous body painted gold", owing more to editing than choreography and anticipating Shirley Eaton in 'Goldfinger' by twenty years.