movibuf1962's reviews

I first discovered "MGM: When the Lion Roars" on PBS about 5 years ago. Even then I only saw part of the documentary- and out of order, the last section first. I didn't know how much detail of the MGM history it actually covered until I saw the complete, 3-part documentary on Turner Classic Movies 18 months ago. When I finally digested even part one, I was flabbergasted. The documentary, lovingly narrated by Patrick Stewart, starts at the beginning (to coin a phrase from one of MGM's great fantasy films). We see the formation of Metro, Goldwyn, and Louis B. Mayer's "Mayer," starting from 1924 and the silent film "He Who Gets Slapped." We see the union of the brilliant young Irving Thalberg and Mayer as they concoct a bona-fide production factory- replete with school, hospital, police force, fire department, and commissary. The New York stockholders (headed by Marcus Lowe, later by Nicholas Schenck) are the magnates who actually oversee MGM, as well as the theaters who distribute the films made by MGM. And part 1 introduces MGM's first stars: Garbo, Gilbert, Joan Crawford, Wallace Beery, Marie Dressler, Helen Hayes, the Barrymores, Clark Gable, Jean Harlow, Norma Shearer Thalberg, and the studio logo- the MGM lion. Remembrances by many of MGM's staff- including Samuel Marx, King Vidor, William Tuttle, and Margaret Booth- give a no-holes-barred outline of just how the studio made (and in some instances broke) their stars.

A lot of the veterans interviewed seem almost hypnotic in their praise of the factory and the tyrannical Mayer- which is curious because there are a few pointed recollections by actors (including double-Oscar winner Luise Rainier and swimming star Esther Williams) who did not particularly care for the bullying, manipulative showman- a man not above fainting on cue to get what he wanted, or reminding his contractors that they were his property to do with as he liked. Part 1 ends with the untimely death of 37-year-old wunderkind Thalberg, and part 2 takes the factory into the 1940's and the war years when Mayer decrees wholesome, pious, family-oriented film only. The child stars are introduced: Jackie Cooper, Mickey Rooney, June Preisser, Freddie Bartholomew, and most of all, Judy Garland (given a particularly long testimony by Rooney, who then curiously denies that MGM was responsible- even in part- for her drug addiction). A sobering begins to creep into the dream factory as stars- particularly the females- are unceremoniously dropped (or at least not picked up) as they begin to age. The new contractors- Lamarr, Allyson, Van Johnson, Greer Garson, James Stewart, Elizabeth Taylor, Tracy & Hepburn- are introduced. A lot of MGM's male stars enlist and go to fight in the war, which annoys Mayer (of course) to no end. Producer Dore Schary (Mayer's political and spiritual opposite) is brought into the fold as "a new Thalberg," thought to improve movie quality while paring the ascending film costs and tolerate the emergence of the new medium of television.

Finally, MGM's legendary musicals make up a significant part of Act 3. One of the most pointed revelations is the contrast in musical film styles between sophisticated Arthur Freed and schmaltzy, sentimental Joe Pasternak (and they're absolutely right). The 1950's arrive and Mayer's 20-year feud with boss Schenck reaches an unimaginable climax when an "office coup" of sorts terminates Mayer from his own studio- and replaced by Schary, who puts an end to all the sweetness and virtuosity and concentrates on gritty message dramas. Many wonderful, stupendous film clips are shown- but amazingly, none of dancer Fred Astaire in the DVD release. (Despite having made some of the greatest musical films from 1948 to 1957- it appears that his widow holds the release rights to all his images, decreeing license fees for the use of his image. Consequently she had all his footage removed from this documentary, which is unforgivable.) The studio shifts management several times in the next dozen or so years, until the factory is more or less liquidated in 1974 and turned over to the MGM Grand Hotel project of Kirk Kerkorian. A particularly sad image is seeing the MGM sign removed from the executive office building in 1986. But what a time it once was.

I remember exactly ONE- no, make that TWO- things about this special: in one truly surreal moment, Mary is shown in a kind of sylvan setting dancing with Ben Vereen- in the same style that he used in his brief summer variety series. They're both in pastels, and the thing is a near-romantic ballet that shows them both off to good advantage. (One forgets that MTM was a truly lovely and graceful dancer before ever uttering one comic syllable.) The other thing is at the halfway mark of this hour-long special, her phone rings, waking her up in the middle of the dream (the entire special is framed as a dream), and she actually tells the person to call her back because she's "in the middle of an incredible dream right now," and goes right back to sleep and the dream resumes. I was laughing out loud at that moment, and I was only 13 at the time!!

Judy Garland's one foray into series television was not perfect, but that was not entirely her fault. She was more anxious than anyone to make this a success, but the show's producers tweaked and ravaged the show's format so much that it ended up a flawed gem. Audiences would've been more than happy to see Ms. Garland just belt out one song after another, but early on her show was a musical variety hybrid, co-starred with 'second banana' dimwit Jerry Van Dyke, and featuring an uneven roster of guest stars, comedy sketches, and interviews over tea. Still, subsequent shows featured unforgettable appearances by Mickey Rooney, Mel Torme,' Lena Horne, Donald O'Connor, Ray Bolger, Jane Powell, George Maharis, and two honorable mentions: her own teenage daughter Liza Minnelli, and a 21-year-old Barbra Streisand who had not yet begun her own star launch with 'Funny Girl.' But then there was Judy herself- 41 years old, slimmed down to a gorgeous waif in beautiful gowns by Bob Mackie and Ray Aghayan doing incredible things: one-woman concerts, clown skits, comic improvisations, pantomime, and of course, the songs: 'Ol' Man River,' 'Live Your Life Today,' 'You Go To My Head,' 'Too Late Now,' 'Swanee,' a stunning up-tempo version of "Come Rain Or Come Shine,' and a positively blazing rendition of "As Long As He Needs Me-' with the voice in the unforgettable quiver and vibrato that always brought audiences to their feet, even in a darkened theater. The DVD's render a marvelous B&W picture, as these shows are digital transfers from the original, show quality, 2-inch videotapes. Kudos to Pioneer Entertainment for making this series possible.

Good grief...the attacks, the smug, sarcastic asides, the soapboxes on how this country is outta control with political correctness- Momma Mia!! And the truth is, no one would care if this Rodgers & Hammerstein musical classic was redone for a 30th time if the cast was white. There are literally the same complaints over and over again about the audacity of a black Cinderella (or a black queen or a black fairy godmother), but swift denials of any racist feelings or speculations. Yes, this version of the R&H musical is flawed, but the flaws (for me, at least) have absolutely NOTHING to do with the casting. (In this modern day and age, if people want to vocalize racial distaste, they say things are "too PC," which is clearly shorthand for "too-many-black-folks-in-the-room." How does a fairy tale- which has a pumpkin turning into a coach and a dress vanishing at the stroke of midnight- merit a debate about realism based on the fact that some of the actors are ethnic? Who are you fooling with these comments?)

I thought Brandy was lovely- especially in the spotlight solo "In My Own Little Corner." And I loved "Ten Minutes Ago-" the elaborate waltz which pairs Brandy and Paolo Montalban (an Asian prince?! Eeek!!) in a rather extravagant duet which gains in scope with a spinning 360 degree camera and lots and lots of dancers. What didn't I like about it? That the medium was completely changed from a TV play to a CGI-heavy movie. The first two productions had exclusively been done for television, in a television medium. The original live 1957 broadcast could not be taped (tape wasn't thoroughly invented yet), but thank goodness the 1964 broadcast was (some of that live feel is retained in this middle version). I would've loved for the 1997 production to be videotaped, where it would've felt a touch more intimate and warm. But it ventures out-and-over the top too often, such as in the elephantine "The Prince is Giving a Ball" and "Impossible," which seems to be all about the crazy light effects surrounding the floating carriage. I think the latest version needed more intimacy. For instance, one of the best scenes in the entire production features a minuscule epilogue not in either of the previous versions. Following the ball (and "A Lovely Night"), Cinderella's fairy godmother emerges one more time to persuade her charge to find her prince and tell him the truth, underscoring that she believe in herself and trust the prince to love her for exactly the way she is. A lovely, powerful moment which relies on nothing but simple, honest sentiment.

This film is an enigma because, while it is a properly light-hearted musical (but weren't they all), it also boasts a great many oddities- starting with the strange title (exactly what in the film is "for keeps?"). Esther Williams plays a properly likable, properly beautiful, water ballerina whose relationship with Jimmy Durante (a legend whom I've always enjoyed) should have been that of a father and daughter, but instead is something a tad stranger. Thankfully, this isn't ignored in the film, as her actual love interest (Johnnie Johnston), whom Durante relentlessly 'protects' from Williams, challenges his interference in the film's 11th hour. (While Durante seems to have a bothered conscience about this, it is never confirmed or denied.) Co-starring with Williams and Durante is the very genteel and old-school tenor Lauritz Melchior as Johnston's meddlesome (and somewhat annoying) father. The musical numbers are delightful, if a tad uneven in quality. I wasn't particularly fond of Durante's "Lost Chord" routine, but it appears to be legendary with most listeners. I prefer Johnston's "Easy To Love," the various Xavier Cugat pieces, and most of all, the provocative striptease and swim of "Ten Percent Off."

As long as the great old films are not on home video, we have to search far and long for the elusive cable broadcasts. Well I was pleasantly surprised to see this one air yesterday on Turner Classic Movies. A film that completely reversed the procedure so well known at MGM: keeping actors of color out of the plot of a film so as not to offend the patrons (and sponsors)of Southern movie theaters. Paramount Pictures took such a gamble in 1958 with this biopic of turn-of-the-century blues composer W. C. Handy, son of a rather rigid preacher man, whose musical gifts are repeatedly deflated and discouraged by said father (who believes such progressive music is only the work of shiftless sinners). The big surprise in this film is the warm, sensitive, and totally subdued performances of the majority of the film's lead cast: Nat 'King' Cole as the quiet Handy, Ruby Dee as his patient, waiting-in-the wings fiancée', and Eartha Kitt as a sassy and ambitious nightclub singer. Even Kitt's character- which would normally be presented as a two-dimensional 'bad girl' caricature, shows some interesting depth as she quietly champions Handy's blues and jazz compositions to be seen by a larger, more commercial, audience. The Alan Reisner direction often leans towards the melodramatic, and veterans Cab Calloway and Pearl Bailey aren't given much to do, but the film soars very nicely as a complete movie. Two honorable mentions must be made however, in the names of Mahalia Jackson- whose gorgeous voice can be heard several times in the church scenes as a choir mistress, and Ella Fitzgerald (perhaps my favorite solo singer of all time) who is featured in a *true* cameo appearance singing a single torch song in a nightclub which Handy happens by one evening. It makes one yearn for more early chances like this one, and makes me especially happy that these performers are archived- even in this small capacity- on motion picture film.

This is another one that I recently re-watched on cable. I must upgrade my collection to include the DVD. Of course, there are reviews which will attack its sentimentality; get over it!! It amazes me that so many film goers can't view a movie with a positive and sophisticated charm without rolling their eyes or sticking their finger down their throat. (As if we don't have enough coarse, angry, 'edgy' films in release already.) I don't mind Redford's Joe Hardy-like ability one bit, because success- for all of his skill and talent- still doesn't come to him easily. He must suffer a physical tragedy, be elusive with his greedy contemporaries, and finally deal with the past, which he spends the entire movie trying to hide. The one nitpick I have with the whole film was the painfully obvious soft-focus photography used to disguise Redford's age. It isn't so bad in the first reel when he's supposed to be a teenager (and the camera shoots him in silhouette and at length), but later, when he's supposed to be between 36 and, say 40, he just *isn't*. Glenn Close is radiant as his love from childhood, and shines in a memorable scene when they are first reunited at one of his games. After he goes into a foreshadowed slump, it is the arrival of Close (angelically back lit, and whose presence he senses even before seeing her) that brings him back to winning. Singularly gorgeous.

I liked it. I realize some will dismiss the film because of its Rockwell-like sentiment (and because it's fashionable to dislike anything that's too sentimental these days), but I also think the story is balanced by an undertone of nasty, ugly reality. Remember, Jim Carrey's screenwriter is thrown into a rather spectacular series of events which end up with him taking an adventure in an almost latter-day Wonderland. A credit to his dramatic acting ability, he has a kind of wary disconnection throughout the whole film. (Even as he lives amongst all the virtue, idealism and patriotism of the Lawson citizens he does not seem to entirely believe it.) But every Oz must have its Kansas, and even Carrey 'wakes up' towards the end of the film to deal with the ugliness of the HUAC witch-hunt. But my favorite performer- and indeed the best thing in the movie- is Martin Landau. His patriarch who wears his heart on his sleeve is absolutely stunning throughout, and he gives the story a lot of earnestness and optimism (especially when he talks about the magic of movies- which I admit I kind of agree with). A strong second best performance comes from Laurie Holden, playing the beautiful law student who may (or may not) know Carrey from the past. Check it out.

Of course 2 million dollars is nothing for a movie budget today, but back in 1938 it was the equivalent of what would now be about 40 million dollars. Fortunately, every penny of MGM's French Revolution tragedy shows up on-screen. The sets, the b/w cinematography, and of course the Adrian costumes (the large hooped gowns which barely pass through the doorways are a movie onto themselves) culminate in one opulent, frenzied, pageant of a story. Norma Shearer Thalberg is the quintessential queen; it's interesting to see her age throughout the film. Though there are always critics who need to nitpick at her age appropriateness (sp?) for this film, I think she does a perfectly credible job going from a teenager to a young adult at the time of execution (the queen was supposed to about 36 when she was guillotined). There are several astonishing moments: the wedding night sequence with Shearer and a somewhat frigid but endearingly shy Robert Morley; the costume party and blind man's bluff game with Shearer and Reginald Gardiner which becomes deliciously provocative; and of course, the final scenes with an imprisoned Shearer who has by now aged so severely she is barely recognized by lover Tyrone Power. A big movie in every way that would, sadly, be eclipsed barely a year later by GONE WITH THE WIND. Check it out.

On the one hand, it has Gene Kelly and direction by George Cukor and the smart, smooth music of Cole Porter. But the structure of the plot is a bit bumpy, and most of this bumpiness stems from the RASHOMON-like tale starting, stopping, and starting again over two hours. A lot of people seem to think that the Porter score was sub-par; I wholeheartedly disagree. An especially lovely sequence is a rowboat scene between Kelly and Taina Elg which segues into the love song "Ca C'est L'amour." Also clever are the burlesque turn of "Ladies In Waiting" and the vaudeville-like "You're Just Too, Too" which pairs Kelly with the rapturous Kay Kendall. Kendall is, in many ways, the real star of LG with her deft comedy (drunkenly singing opera for five straight minutes!) and her cool, elegant beauty. Knowing that she died shortly after completing this film- and so young- makes one miss her charms all the more and also wish that the film had a larger following. (It's particularly enigmatic nowadays when compared to Kelly's bigger and better known hits: 'Singin' In The Rain,' 'An American In Paris,' 'Anchors Aweigh,' etc.) Still, Mitzi Gaynor is a dish, dancing with Kelly in a sexy black dress (in a weird Marlon-Brando-a'la-THE-WILD-ONE-send up). Thank goodness it's on widescreen DVD where it belongs.

Even though the film starred Judy Garland, what I really enjoyed about The Harvey Girls is that it operates as an ensemble musical, giving features and spotlight numbers to just about everyone in the mammoth cast. This kind of thing is usually reserved for stage musicals only, but back in 1946 MGM's roster of talent was strong, if not yet infamous. Players like deadpan comic Virginia O'Brien and dancer Cyd Charisse were fairly new back then, but this film gives them individual spotlights: not only do they both sing with Garland in the nighttime ballad "It's A Great Big World," but O'Brien gets to sing "The Wild, Wild West" (while assisting blacksmith Ray Bolger in shoeing a horse) and Charisse gets to dance (briefly) opposite Kenny Baker singing "Wait And See." Marjorie Main leads the Harvey waitresses through "The Train Must Be Fed;" Angela Lansbury is featured in two saloon numbers, and Ray Bolger gets to do some of his rubber-legged clowning at the Harvey House party. And, of course, everyone on the planet is assembled for the big, eight minute production number "On The Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe." There's literally something for everyone- even the oil-and-water romance between Garland and John Hodiak. And they shine as well, even if Hodiak wasn't the most well-known leading man. Check out this wonderfully scored, written, acted, and costumed tribute to old-fashioned Americana.

The film is marvelous, but it's been dissected to death; consequently, I can't add any comment you haven't already heard. Lovely Technicolor cinematography of the outdoor frontier and rich period costuming enhances this top-notch cornucopia of story, score, and songs- including 'The Deadwood Stage,' 'I Can Do Without You,' 'Windy City,' 'The Subject of Harry,' and 'Secret Love.' Two special moments for me are Howard Keel singing 'Higher Than A Hawk' to the portrait of Allyn McLerie, and 'A Woman's Touch,' which shows McLerie and Doris Day become sisters in solidarity. They clean the house (in fact, renovate it) while discovering Calamity's femininity at the same time. They joke, they bond, and at the end of the scene our heroine is in a dress and quite the looker. There's no shocking sexist message here; it's a musical showing how a woman gets her man. I don't think in 1953 you could've asked for more. On the other hand, most of Day's scenes with Keel are a locked-horns battle of the sexes- absolutely no question. They compliment each other beautifully- from 'I Can Do Without You', right up to their nearly romantic duet of 'The Black Hills of Dakota.' Enjoy the film again, and look between the lines- some of it is quite timeless.