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By
NICK ZEGARAC
If you want to experience a
textbook example of the typical frothy 40s
Technicolor musical that once so readily populated
the American film landscape see Down Argentine Way
(1940); a delightful lighter-than-air Fox flick
that unequivocally proves substance is not
required when style is plentiful. The film debuts
the effervescent Betty Grable as Glenda Crawford
-- an heiress who desires to buy a race horse from
suave Latin lover, Ricardo Quintana (Don Ameche).
Learning of Ms. Crawford's interests before
discovering her identity (that of a descendant
from a family despised by Ricardo's stoic
grandfather, Don Diego), Ricardo agrees to sell
Glenda his pony, then reneges on their deal,
leaving Glenda jilted and confused.
She departs with her aunt Binnie (the marvelous,
yet near forgotten, comedian Charlotte Greenwood)
to Buenos Aires where, as fate would have it,
Ricardo lives. After a few not-so-rough spots in
the narrative are ironed out all is forgiven
between Ricardo and Glenda. Between Glenda and Don
Diego (Henry Stephenson) is another story. He
bitterly refuses to have anything to do with any
member of the Crawford family -- even threatening
to disown Ricardo should he pursue the love
affair. Ah, but then he inexplicably melts like
butter when he discovers that Glenda has helped
his greatest race horse win a derby match: so much
for plot.
But director Irving Cummings knows his way around
such inconsequential bits of business. Instead of
explaining things, Cummings provides for the
decorous usage of a grand mythology; that
Argentina is a tropical country. It is not. He
inserts the delightful Carmen Miranda (cast as
herself) into several splashy numbers, the best
being 'South American Way.' Ameche and Grable
warble and dance the catchy title song, the
Nicholas Brothers perform it as a mind-boggling
tap routine much later in the film, and Charlotte
Greenwood frenetically bounces about the
landscape, belting out 'Sing for Your Senorita.'
What one takes away from the experience is not so
much style as lavish kitsch and superior escapism
into a dream-like world of cleanliness and
serenity. There is only one way to describe this
trip down Argentine way -- sheer delight.
Those words can also be ascribed to Fox's DVD
transfer. In the opinion of this reviewer, a more
perfectly rendered image derived from an
impeccable Technicolor dye transfer print from
this vintage does not exist (except maybe on Fox's
The Black Swan 1942). Colors simply glow and
shimmer off the screen. Grable's lips are blood
red, the night scenes are bathed in a haunting
blue afterglow and Ameche's hair is jet black.
Carmen Miranda's dress and headgear deliver an
eye-popping Technicolor rainbow that is dazzling.
Fine details are realized throughout the image,
even in some cases exposing the heavy make-up the
actors wear. Contrast levels are perfectly
realized.
The soundtrack has been remixed to stereo (the
original mono is also included) but there is very
little difference between the two. Inherent
shortcomings in the original audio have been
tempered as much as possible for a thoroughly
adequate audio presentation. Extras include a
fantastic audio commentary by resident Fox expert,
Sylvia Stoddard and a Biography special on Betty
Grable's life. Stills gallery and theatrical
trailers are also featured. Final thoughts, then:
this film comes highly recommended as total
escapist fun.
Walter Lang's Moon Over Miami (1941) was Betty
Grable's follow up to Down Argentine Way, made the
year before, and it is saying much of both the
actress and the material that its convivial paper
thin plot, already well exercised in the latter,
continued to resonate with more than a hint of
freshness this time around. Grable is cast as the
winsome ingénue, this time named Katherine
Latimer. Kaye shares in her hand-to-mouth
existence as a singing waitress at a Texas stop
over with her sister, Barbara (Carole Landis) and
aunt, Susan (Charlotte Greenwood).
But the three decide to hightail it where rich
millionaires are plentiful after a car hop gets
fresh. Installed in a swank beach resort in Miami
populated with money, Kaye assumes the role of a
rich girl about town with Barbara pretending to be
her secretary and Susan, her maid. The idea is for
Kaye to snag a rich man and then Barbara and Susan
will have it comfy too. On her first night out,
Kaye's prospect for marriage materialize through a
rivalry between congenial playboy, Jeffery Boulton
II (Robert Cummings) and bored playboy, Phil
O'Neil (Don Ameche). This rivalry is further
complicated when Barbara begins to have affections
for Jeffery too. A threadbare subplot involves
Susan falling for a middle aged bellboy, Jack
O'Hara (played rather awkwardly by Jack Haley).
In its deportment this film very much mirrors the
chemistry and mechanics of its predecessor. But
for some odd reason the whole claptrap seems fresh
and inviting. Bob Cummings is quite at ease as the
romantic fop and he knows his way around a good
song. He's provided with one of the film's best,
'You Started Something', later warbled with just
as much verve by Don Ameche and tapped
rhythmically by Grable and a pair of twins, The
Condos Brothers.
Fox's DVD transfer is fresh, exciting and quite
impressive. Though there are one or two very brief
instances where the image appears slightly soft
and perhaps slightly out of focus, for the most
part the picture elements exhibit lush Technicolor
at its best with eye-poppingly brilliant reds,
lurid deep and moody blues and vital greens.
Blacks are deep and velvety. Whites are bright and
clean, though never blooming. Contrast levels are
for the most part perfectly realized. The audio
has been remixed to stereo (a practice Fox
continues to do on mono soundtracks despite the
fact that it has no discrete channels for which to
provide a true stereo sound mix). Nevertheless,
the sound elements featured herein are extremely
robust with punchy sounds that fairly feel like
they could be stereo. Extras are limited to a
stills gallery and theatrical trailer. Of all the
Grable movies Fox has issued on DVD thus far, this
is the only one without an audio commentary -- go
figure?!? Bottom line: Moon Over Miami comes
recommended as palpably adequate fun for a rainy
afternoon or snowy eve. Now anyone anywhere can
escape for a bit to the tropics.
Irving Cummings' The Dolly Sisters (1945) is par
for the course in 20th Century Fox musicals of
this vintage. A turgid bit of backstage melodrama
is effectively tacked onto a series of lurid and
lush musical numbers that greatly augment and lift
the story from its generally mundane trappings.
Plot wise, it is 1904 Hungary and Uncle Latsie
(S.Z. Sakall) immigrates to New York City with his
two precocious nieces, Jenny (Betty Grable) and
Rosie (June Haver) in tow. Hardly impoverished,
the family's fortunes are turned out in short
order when the girls develop an act for cafe
dancing that brings in the money. Unfortunately
for all, Uncle Latsie is unlucky at poker, a
crisis of funds that forces the girls into
Vaudeville where they quickly and easily become
celebrated performers. But a wrinkle arises when
handsome male singer Harry Fox (Fox heartthrob
John Payne) meets the girls en route to fame and
fortune and vows, then schemes, to secure them an
audition with the great Hammerstein.
Despite Harry's interference the girls light up
the stage like no other sister act in history.
Harry develops affections for one half of the act
but the girls are inseparable and immediately
embark on a whirlwind tour of Europe. The film is
justly remembered for its one gargantuan
production number, "The Dark Town Strutter's Ball"
but little else. As sparing sisters, Haver and
Grable are engaging, but their treacle and mutual
respect are a bit too sweet to be believed. Payne
looks good enough on the screen but is decidedly
wooden throughout the film. Playing against type
as the proverbial bad guy with good intentions he
seems out of his element and, particularly in the
latter half of the film, is given precious little
to do. S.Z. Sakall, one of cinema's true gems is
wasted in his role.
Fox's DVD transfer is quite impressive though
regrettably not pristine; I say, regrettably
because the entire film was the benefactor of a
Technicolor restoration in the mid-1990s and
therefore ought to have looked better herein. On
occasion, the Technicolor appears rather flat or
less punchy than it should be. There are also
cases where slight mis-registration of the
original three strip color process results in an
image that is softly focused and slightly blurry.
Overall, colors are lush and vibrant. Blacks are
deep solid and velvety. Whites are mostly
pristine, though age-related artifacts do crop up
on occasion and make their presence obvious. As
with the other Fox films released under the
'Marquee Musical' banner, the audio is offered in
its original mono and rechanneled stereo.
Since the original distinct stems to the musical
portions of this film no longer exist, there is
little difference between either of these audio
presentations and not much to recommend the stereo
mix. Extras are limited to an audio commentary
that is sparse and not terribly engaging and some
vintage stills reproduced in a slip sleeve inside
the DVD case. Ho-hum extras for a ho-hum movie,
but moderately distracting nonetheless for the
leggy Grable in another shameless display of those
legs.
My Blue Heaven (1950) is abysmally appalling,
depressing and thoroughly lack luster
entertainment. It stars Betty Grable and Dan
Dailey as Kitty and Jack Moran, a husband and wife
radio team who are all set to have a baby until
Kitty inexplicably drives their car into a fire
hydrant. Told by her doctor that she has had a
miscarriage and will never be able to conceive,
Kitty and Jack go the route of trying to adopt a
child, only to have their hopes dashed when it is
suggested actors are not suitable parental
material. Kitty and Jack's best friends, Walter
(David Wayne) and Janet Pringle (Jane Wyatt) -- a
couple with oodles of 'perfect' kids (some
adopted, some begot the old fashioned way) try
buying a baby for Jack and Kitty on the black
market, but this plan too falls apart.
Meanwhile, into this convoluted mix is thrust
Mitzi Gaynor as Gloria Adams, a prepubescent
Lolita-type who is Kitty's understudy and whom
Jack kisses rather wholeheartedly before Kitty
gives Gloria the old heave-ho. All this
melodramatic tripe might have gelled more
successfully if it were not for two catastrophic
oversights from which the film never recovers. The
first misfire is Betty Grable. The actress fond of
disclosing that "There are only two reasons why
I'm in Hollywood…and I'm standing on both of them"
is quite simply out of her element on this
occasion. She neither understands the depth of
melodrama nor is able to reconcile its subtleness
with her own musical 'go out there and sell it'
bravado. The second great misfire is Fox's attempt
to fashion something of a musical from this
overblown nonsense.
Director Henry Koster struggles to infuse this sad
story with lighthearted ditties that do not
belong. Apart from the film's title song (which
had something of a following) the rest of the
score is peppered with forgettable and
embarrassingly third rate songs like 'It's
Deductible' -- an insurance write off song (oh,
please) and the merely inane 'Don't Rock the Boat
Dear.' Again, My Blue Heaven is not my idea of an
A-list feature it pretends to be. The sets and
costumes appear as holdovers from other films and
are as stale as the narrative.
As though plot alone were not enough to discourage
one from a purchase, Fox's DVD transfer is also
suspect. Not nearly as crisp as it ought to be for
a film of this vintage, the image also suffers
from more grain than is usual in a Technicolor
feature and a flickering of the image during
several key scenes. Age-related artifacts are
present throughout, but will not terribly
distract. The audio has been remixed to stereo.
The original mono is also included. Either or is
the opinion of this reviewer. Drew Casper provides
a passable audio commentary and theatrical
trailers and a stills gallery are included. |
