‘Thoroughly Modern Millie’ Silly Fun 1967

"Thoroughly Modern Millie," a '20s musical with the '60s biggest singing movie star!

 

That Thoroughly Modern Millie, a puffed up piece of fluff, was a huge hit in 1967 was rather amazing. Millie wasn’t from a hit Broadway musical, as often was the case in the 1960s. Perhaps audiences who wanted something more mainstream than Bonnie and Clyde and other ’67 gritty films flocked to Millie.

Julie Andrews is Millie, here before she gets her modern makeover.

Producer Ross Hunter couldn’t get the rights to Julie Andrews’ old Broadway hit The Boyfriend. So Hunter hired talent to cook up Thoroughly Modern Millie.  Ironically, wholesome Millie was Julie's last hit movie until a dozen years later, with husband Blake Edwards’ racy 10.

Thoroughly Modern Millie stars a diverse trio of leading ladies: Julie Andrews, at the height of her film stardom; Carol Channing, the toast of Broadway in the megahit Hello, Dolly; and Mary Tyler Moore, who just finished her run as the perfect TV wife on The Dick Van Dyke Show.

Mary Tyler Moore is Miss Dorothy, the latest boarder at the women's hotel.
She becomes besties with Julie Andrews' Millie in "Thoroughly Modern Millie."

Though Julie Andrews and Mary Tyler Moore are more than a tad past the age of playing ingénues, the leading ladies are both appealing, especially Julie in the title role. Julie is high-spirited and fun, in great voice and a game dancer. Moore plays the role of Miss Dorothy, the pampered princess, who arrives at the ladies’ hotel. Mary may seem stilted in the role, but apparently she wanted to gently spoof the sweet young thing role. There are some fun numbers, like Julie's opening title number that shows her transformation from goody girl to flaming flapper. The tap dance scene with Julie and Mary, to make the creaky hotel elevator run, is charming.

Bea Lillie as Mrs. Meers, who runs a women's hotel & white slavery ring.
She's flanked by henchman Pat Morita & Jack Soo, who would find fame in the '70s.

In another galaxy, there’s Carol Channing as the outrageous ex-showgirl, now-rich Muzzie Van Hossmere. Even though Carol’s only in a handful of scenes, with two numbers, her outrageous persona is at full tilt and the Academy saw fit to give her a Best Supporting Actress Nomination for 1967. While I've always had a low tolerance for Carol Channing’s charms, her “Jazz Baby” is an over the top camp classic. It’s as if Baby Jane Hudson made her comeback and was a smash.

I half expected to hear Carol Channing caterwaul "I've Written a Letter to Daddy!" 
But she sings "Jazzy Baby" and prances all over the set. Must be seen to be believed!

Finally, there’s British icon Beatrice Lillie, who plays the comic villain Mrs. Meers. She’s dryly amusing, as the henchwoman who runs a white slavery ring as well as the women’s hotel.

John Gavin spoofs his square-jawed looks good-naturedly as Trevor Graydon. The tall, dark, and handsome star really fills the bill here and then some! Gavin has gotten much criticism as acting wooden in Millie. Well, Gavin wasn’t the world’s most relaxed actor, but I’m surprised that people don’t get that his hero is supposed to be deliberately stiff, like Mr. Peterman on Seinfeld.

John Gavin's a good sport as the square-jawed hero in "Thoroughly Modern Millie."

James Fox is the surprise here as Jimmy Smith, who longs for Millie. I've only seen Fox in intense dramatic roles like The Servant, King Rat and Performance. Imagine my surprise when I saw he is not only dashing and adorable, but a most pleasant singer and dancer, to boot. Okay, so his singing was dubbed by Jimmy Bryant, who also provided the voice for Richard Beymer in West Side Story. But Fox looks like he’s having great fun. He really captures the high-spirited male ingénues of the early part of the 20th century show biz.

James Fox is a total charmer as Jimmy, the free spirit in "Thoroughly Modern Millie."

The film merrily mixes fun song and dance styles, and movie conventions from the era. But at two and half hours long, there’s so much padding that could have been cut. Apparently, Ross Hunter can be thanked for this. The producer liked to think big, while director George Roy Hill thought this was a light musical comedy. Hence, the superfluous numbers and Hunter’s insistence on an overture and intermission made Millie a “road show” event instead of a two hour film.

In "Thoroughly Modern Millie," our heroine mulls over her attraction to both 
John Gavin's dashing boss or James Fox's darling Jimmy.

For instance, Andrews’ Millie singing the “Trinkt Le Chaim” number at a friend’s Jewish wedding—which has nothing to do with the rest of the film. As sweet as “The Tapioca” may be, introducing Jimmy’s character and Mrs. Meers’ antics, goes on much too long. The later Harold Lloyd-type physical comedy scene with Andrews and Fox, while game, is also lengthy.

Bea Lillie as the comic villain Mrs. Meers. This is about how serious 1967's "Thoroughly Modern Millie" gets.

Some viewers will be sensitive and object to the subplot of a white slavery ring run by Chinese villains as rightly racist—who weren’t even played by Chinese actors, to add insult to injury. I took it as cartoonish camp and spoofing old movie serial tropes. Also, Julie's Millie gives up goals of independence to be an old-fashioned wife to rich Jimmy! However, I doubt high-spirited and outspoken Millie would remain demure for long.

As Miss Dorothy, Mary Tyler Moore when she first sees John Gavin's Trevor,
in "Thoroughly Modern Millie."

George Roy Hill, who loved period movies, directed Thoroughly Modern Millie. He brought a lot of research, skill, and style in his vision of this earlier era, much as he did with 1973’s The Sting. Unlike the film’s producer, the director thought of this movie has light, clever fun—which comes off well. Hill had just directed Julie in a commercially successful epic, Hawaii, so they worked well together, and it shows.

Julie Andrews has great fun as "Thoroughly Modern Millie," comically vamping here.

The mix of old and new songs blend together smoothly; costumes by classy Jean Louis are sleek and at times comical, as with Channing’s glitzy glamour. The new songs are by Jimmy Van Heusen and Sammy Cahn, plus “Jimmy” by Jay Thompson. Elmer Bernstein was bemused to have won an Oscar for his non-musical score—it was shoehorned in between all the songs, plus meddling producer Ross Hunter had arranger Andre Previn goose up Bernstein’s more era-appropriate score.

Carol Channing toasts the stars to a happy ending in "Thoroughly Modern Millie."

Given the background goings on, I’d say that Millie made a splash was almost a fluke, given that movie-goers tastes would quickly change. The next year, Julie Andrews’ Star! and 1970’s Darling Lili would bury her career as a top film leading lady. Compared to these latter two behemoths, Thoroughly Modern Millie is the model of simplicity in entertainment. Just remember Millie was a movie made over 55 years ago, about the Roaring Twenties!

Here’s my look at director George Roy Hill’s other period comedy-drama, The Sting: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2021/08/redford-newmans-star-power-sting-1973.html 

Carol Channing as Muzzie literally acts like she's been shot out of a cannon in "Thoroughly Modern Millie!"

 

 

‘Lady in the Dark’: Over the Top Style Over Substance 1944

Ginger Rogers isn't turning green because she's singing 'South Pacific' tunes!
Ginger's 'Lady in the Dark' is about to go into a dream sequence is all.

Once groundbreaking, 1941’s Broadway dramatic musical, Lady in the Dark, was a critical and commercial smash for all involved. Lady was especially lucky for the careers of star Gertrude Lawrence, plus newcomers Danny Kaye and Victor Mature. Lady was a sophisticated mix of psychological drama, and music styles of several genres. Lady in the Dark was daring at the time, with analysis in vogue, and women at work in the war years. Yet, the fine points of these two topics soon became dated, leaving this Lady with a somewhat tarnished reputation.

Gertrude Lawrence had a mid-career triumph on Broadway with 'Lady in the Dark,'
 playing over 500 performances. But Hollywood was not going to star a 45 year old
 actress with no film track record in a big movie musical.

Paramount paid nearly $300 thousand dollars for the movie rights to Lady in the Dark. Perplexingly, the studio missed the boat—or specifically, ship—by eliminating what was most memorable about Lady, the instant classic score, including its most famous tune, “My Ship.”

The source material, with the book by Moss Hart, plus words and music by Ira Gershwin and Kurt Weill, dealt with two timely topics: psychoanalysis and career women. Then, Paramount’s film adaptation added its own interpretation. The Hollywood studio system was at its zenith as the entertainment choice of the mainstream public. Hollywood studio heads deemed themselves as the patriarchs of the American way of life. Of course, the bottom line was to appeal to the masses and keep those movie tickets selling! So, the psychiatry of Lady in the Dark was further simplified for filmgoers. More damning was Lady’s message that it was more important to be a “real woman” than a career woman, which was constantly drummed throughout Lady, and through decades of filmmaking, as well.

Ginger Rogers' Liza Elliot is called "boss lady" by her male co-worker & told by her shrink that she "cares little for feminine adornment!" Because, pinstripes?!

What the studio did keep was the story of Liza Elliot, editor of “Allure” fashion magazine. Liza (Ginger Rogers) is stricken with anxiety, depression, and disturbing dreams. Her professional and personal life only exacerbates Elliot’s issues. At work, advertising hot shot Charley Johnson (Ray Milland) has his eye on her job and badmouths her femininity. On the home front, Liza has a safe harbor relationship with a wealthy married man old enough to be her father (Warner Baxter.) Then movie heartthrob Randy Curtis (Jon Hall) arrives at “Allure” for a photo shoot. Randy is taken with Liza because she’s “not one of those glamour girls.” Gee, thanks, Randy! Then, there is also a hint of attraction amidst the hateful zingers from Charley. This dull lot is just Liza’s current personal baggage.

Ray Milland's good time Charley Johnson & Rogers 'boss lady' duke it out in pinstripes over a circus- versus Easter-themed fashion mag issue. Imagine the results when Liza has a dream sequence mixing both. Their looks sum it up!

I consider myself pretty clear-eyed while watching films from past eras, when dated conventions, situations, or dialogue come up. After all, it was the past. And as we seem to forget the past fairly quickly, I don’t think it hurts to be reminded of outdated past attitudes. But some movie material is beyond the pale, and Lady in the Dark comes pretty close. The barrage of sexist insults to Liza from Charley (him telling a co-worker that all Liza needs is a night out and a good…), or the patronizing, prehistoric advice from Liza’s shrink (that she needs a man to dominate her), had me wincing or rolling my eyes.  

Liza takes the advice from her doc that she needs a shrink as if she had a fatal disease!
 I never realized what big blue eyes Ginger Rogers had until I saw 'Lady in the Dark.'

As a talent, Ginger Rogers was always a game girl. She started off as a dancer, but always tried to broaden her range. At her best, Rogers was a graceful, energetic dancer, a decent singer, an engaging comic performer who was great with wisecracks, and a solid dramatic actress. And Ginger was all about glamour, which was worshiped in studio era Hollywood. However, biographer David Chierichetti wrote that director Mitchell Leisen said that Rogers could not relate to the psychiatric profession, which he felt hindered her performance in Lady in the Dark. This seems odd, since Ginger wanted to make this film. Also, Ginger’s doubt should have suited the role, as Liza takes the advice from her family doctor to seek therapy as if she was ordered to get a lobotomy.

Perhaps Liza Elliot is thinking about the size of her shrink bill after checking out the
 doc's stylish office digs! That's a very young Barry Sullivan as Dr. Brooks.

Wouldn’t it have been ironic if Paramount had borrowed Rosalind Russell from MGM to play Lady’s Liza Elliot? Russell made her career in comedies playing strong career women—who usually gave up work by the last reel! Roz was able to play brittle while retaining her likeability. I also couldn’t help but wonder what Joan Crawford might have brought to this role. Even in her heyday, everyone knew that Joan’s career was all to her, and Crawford could have given an intriguing portrayal.

Ray Milland is a shithead with a whip & Ginger Rogers a lady in a cage in the circus dream.

Though engaging performers, neither Ginger Rogers nor Ray Milland, as Liza the “boss lady” and her office adversary, Charley Johnson, come off well. This isn’t their fault, since their roles and especially the dialogue, are impossibly slanted. Rogers comes across as a peevish pill and Milland as a horse’s ass. One wonders what Cary Grant, who played a charming but needling jerk in Hitchcock’s Notorious, might have done as Charley. Cary’s comedic persona was infinitely more charismatic than Milland’s.

As often the case, movie posters finesse the facts. Ginger's Liza Elliot is more lost
than in love, and isn't that keen on any of the three rather dull leading men.

Rogers’ Liza receives constant criticism for not looking feminine enough. You see, she wears—gasp!—tailored dresses. But the work wear is always accessorized with towering hairdos, lacquered makeup, jungle red nails, high heels, and furs! This was classic Hollywood’s idea of austerity style—wearing pinstripes. Edith Head designed the modern clothes.  It’s amusing that the other characters chide Liza for her dress, because Edith’s streamlined clothes for Rogers’ character remain timeless and chic, while everything else looks like campy costumes.

Before there was Lady Gaga's "meat" dress, there was Ginger Rogers' "mink" dress!

Though Edith Head is generally given kudos for all the costumes, the film credits cite three designers, who created the garish glamour for Lady in the Dark. Raoul Pene Du Bois created designs for the dream sequences and Madame Barbara Karinska lent her skills to make the fur fly for the film’s much-publicized “mink dress.” Yes, before Lady Gaga’s “meat dress,” there was Ginger’s “mink dress!” The mink portions of the heavily sequined dress had to be redesigned, requiring Karinska’s services. The first attempt was so heavy, that Ginger couldn’t even walk, much less dance, in the gown. IMO, the debated mink gown sure looks like an Edith Head number, but I’m no costume expert. 

The mink reveals a gown with more sequins than Bob Mackie or Cher could ever imagine!

The dress was highly publicized as costing $35,000—for a fur gown to dance in—which truly symbolizes the wrongheaded approach by Paramount to Lady in the Dark. Frankly, some of the “wow” costumes remind me of the designs that Mae West wore in her final films (by Edith Head) or Lucille Ball’s heavy, clunky clothes from Mame.

The $35,000 mink gown opens to reveal sequins and Ginger's famous legs!

The dream sequences are something out of The Wizard of Oz—in fact, Liza’s work confidante refers to her shrink as such. Also, in Liza’s wedding dream sequence, Rogers is so laden down with a huge platinum pageboy wig, a towering bridal veil, and a kewpie doll painted face, that she looks like Billie Burke’s Glinda the Good Witch. There are so many singers, dancers, scenery, exaggerated costumes, and apparently every smoke machine that Paramount could muster, that Lady looks like Oz—or a mammoth, melting Technicolor cake. Paramount star Mae West once commented that too much of a good thing is wonderful, but I’d use these dream sequences as proof that it isn’t!

Here's Ginger looking like Glinda the Good Witch in one of 'Lady in the Dark's'
 demented dream sequences.

The one sequence where Ginger gets to show off some of her fabled spice is in “The Saga of Jenny” number. Rogers’ in great form here and gets to work that mink dress like nobody’s business.

There are subtle, delightful touches scattered throughout the film amongst the overkill. Lady’s opening titles are clever, mimicking “Allure” magazine. And the dream sequences’ segues are smoothly skillful. It’s a sad commentary that the scenes depicting Liza’s daily life are more visually pleasing than the near-nauseating fantasy dream sequences.

Interestingly, the introductions to the dream sequences are clever and creative.

Mitchell Leisen’s skills have been criticized by some film historians as style over substance. Or that Leisen lucked out in having Billy Wilder, Charles Brackett, and Preston Sturges work for him when they were screen writers. There is truth to this, but he had his gifts—with actors, comic material, and visual style. But with such tricky material as Lady in the Dark, perhaps a stronger director would have fought the unfortunate material cuts, the over the top taste level, and the negative emphasis on the leads’ characters. Leisen’s Lady in the Dark and Frenchman’s Creek, while big commercial successes in 1944, were expensive and problematic to make, badly reviewed, and ultimately, not well-remembered. Leisen’s work without such talented up and comers just didn’t compare.

A perfect example of how Paramount killed 'Lady' with overkill: Ginger & Don Loper
 dancing around what looks like neon candy canes & "fog" that looks like they're being exterminated!

Among the rest of the cast, there are some interesting performers. Young Barry Sullivan, whose voice sounds like it hadn’t changed yet, plays Liza’s shrink, Dr. Brooks. Mischa Auer has a field day as Russell, the flaming fashion photographer. Mary Gilbert is great fun as Rogers’ wise sidekick, Maggie. She was also Humphrey Bogart’s first wife! Gorgeous Gail Russell appears in an early role as Rogers’ high school love rival in a flashback. The difference here Gail was actually a teenager when this was filmed. And yes, we are treated once again to Ginger playing a pre-teen in a pinafore during the circus dream scene. At least Rogers doesn’t play little Liza in the flashbacks with her parents!

Yet another movie where 30 and over Ginger plays a juvenile in a pinafore.

There have been surprisingly few theatrical revivals or filmed versions of Lady in the Dark, due to the lavish story and its problematic take on women.

Interestingly, Judy Garland played in a one hour radio version of Lady in the Dark in 1953 that showcased the music and utilized just enough dialogue from the show’s book to frame the piece. It’s lovely to listen to. Ann Sothern did a 90 minute television version in 1954 that, judging from the audio clips, imbues Liza with more humor than Ginger and a surprisingly strong voice.

Julie Andrews as Helen Lawson, oops, Gertrude Lawrence performing 'The Saga of Jenny' in the bio flick 'Star!'

In 1968, Julie Andrews played Gertrude Lawrence in the biopic Star, recreating elements of Lady in the Dark. Andrews’ version of “The Saga of Jenny,” though well-sung, looks like a ‘60s TV special starring Valley of the Dolls’ Helen Lawson!

Coincidentally, while I was researching this essay, I saw that a one-weekend Master Voices’ staging of Lady in the Dark was performed at The New York Center April 25-27, 2019. The reviews I saw were fine, and interviews I read with the creators involved said that they addressed the dated scenes between the analyst and Liza. One way was by casting Amy Irving as Doctor Brooks, who performed in a more empathetic manner than past male counterparts. The lines from the shrink, who tells Liza where her emotional problems lie, are now spoken by Liza, giving her self-realization. And some of the more dated, inflammatory lines were just deleted altogether.

So, there just might be a brighter future for further productions of Lady in the Dark. As for the 1944 version, it’s all subjective, depending on why you watch older films. I found this Lady to be fascinating, as in “What were they thinking?”

Here's another fugly fashion overstatement from the wedding dream sequence.
At first glance, I thought this was Mae West, not Ginger Rogers!