Miriam Hopkins in her underwear, and other delights...

The title of Eclipse's eighth box set, "Lubitsch Musicals," doesn't have the ring of importance that some of the previous box titles did: "The Documentaries of Louis Malle," "Early Bergman," "Late Ozu," "Postwar Kurosawa," that sort of thing. And indeed, I've heard some cinephile friends muse aloud that they may take a pass on this four-disc set (which hits stores on Feb. 12), on account of it seems a bit trifling and frothy and unsubstantial, and, well, antique.

Their loss, I say. It's true that even the liners notes to one of the movies in the set, 1930's Monte Carlo, the only one of the bunch not to feature Maurice Chevalier, cites its "seeming quaintness today." But for this viewer, the quaintness was of such a foreign, or perhaps I ought to say, unfamiliar, type that it had an oddly fresh quality. How often do you see light quasi-operettas rife with sexual innuendo these days, right? Among other things, the set is an education in a particular form—I mean, you knew that the Marx Brothers' Duck Soup was an anarchic political satire, but did you also know that it was a pointed parody of the very type of popular film presented here?

Indeed, in 1930's The Love Parade Jeanette MacDonald, known to some as "the Iron Butterfly," plays Queen Louise of Sylvania, who summons home her ambassador to France (who returns bearing a think French accent, as he himself is portrayed by Chevalier) and marries him, making him Prince Consort and a rather discontented house husband. Early talkies were rife with romances set in Sylvania or Ruritania or whatnot; hence, Freedonia.

Ah, Chevalier. He was a figure of fun for the Marxes in Horse Feathers Monkey Business, and Woody Allen dissed him in Annie Hall...and if you're immune to his tres insouciant Gallic charm you may not be unwise in passing this set up. But watching the peculiarly dyspeptic Jack Buchanan (later—much later—to be so great in The Band Wagon) try to fill his shoes in Monte Carlo, you understand that Chevalier, even more than his female cohorts, was the ingredient that made these souffles rise. His asides to the audience send the fourth wall down with only the slightest push, and he makes the willing viewer feel like a co-conspirator in a rather obscure but harmless joke.

And the female cohorts. So frequently in deshabille, even MacDonald, here playing a runaway bride who didn't even get as far as putting on the wedding dress in Monte Carlo.

Interesting that the films shrink in length. The first, Parade, is almost an hour and fifty minutes; Monte Carlo, also '30 (the only film to sport a song many people are likely to be familair with, "Beyond the Blue Horizon"), is 90 minutes, '31's The Smiling Lieutenant is 89 minutes while '32's One Hour With You, the only picture having zip to do with mythical royalty and an obvious precursor to Lubitsch's first sound masterpiece Trouble in Paradise, doesn't even hit 80 minutes. There are various reasons for this, but in fact one does see Lubitsch further honing his already highly refined storytelling craft in each film; note how in the opening sequence of The Smiling Lieutenant Lubitsch very economically tells us about five things we need to know about Chevalier's title character without one word of dialogue. Lieutenant also jettisons MacDonald for the delectable tag-team of Claudette Colbert and Miriam Hopkins, seen above after a transformaton spurred on by Colbert's advice in song, "Jazz Up Your Lingerie." Lieutenant is the most peculiar of the four films, given the shrugging ambivalence of its ending—Colbert's character is clearly the "right" woman for Chevalier's Lieutenant, but...well, I don't want to spoil it. The film also contains a rather stunning sequence of sustained lyricism, beginning with Chevalier's separation from Colbert, encompassing his forced marriage to Hopkins princess, and ending with Colbert and Chevlier's sweet reunion. As for One Hour, it's a blast of Pre-Code not-taking-adultery-very-seriously-at-all. Check out the way MacDonald and costar Genevieve Tobin's characters almost dress for a dinner party.

Maybe those really were the days.

Comments

[MarkVH]

The availability of The Smiling Lieutenant alone should make this an absolute must-own for any of your "cinephile friends." Agreed with everything you've said - it's a delightful, and shockingly sexually suggestive, little musical entertainment that's got Colbert and Hopkins both at their sexiest and most playful.

In all, I'd go so far as to call this the most important DVD release of the year thus far (along with the desperately needed Apartment upgrade) - I've been downright giddy about it since its announcement.

For Lubitsch fans (what real movie lover isn't one?), for musical fans and for pre-code fans it's about as good as it gets. Can't freakin' wait.

[Randy Byers]

This is actually the first Eclipse set I've ordered, so there. I can't wait to get my hands on it. I've been having a complete gas with the Lubitsch in Berlin set from Kino. Now bring on the Sternberg silents for more Paramount heaven.

"If a nightingale could sing like you ... "

[oakling]

And it would have been so easy for them to punch up the title. Come on - "The Timeless Musicals of Ernst Lubitsch," at the very least.

[Claire K.]

Or, "Uncle Ernie's Pre Code Panty Parties."

[Ryland Walker Knight]

touché, claire k. that lead image is a "wouch" if ever i saw one.

so many delightful things, so little money. er, time.

[cadavra]

Well, I for one won't be buying it, for the very simple reason that I already have all four (and three more) on the very expensive laserdisc set, which happily still plays just fine.

[Joel]

That was Horse Feathers? I thought Monkey Business had the whole Chevalier sequence. In college, my friends and I attended a screening of the former and, for months afterwards, one of us only needed to sing, in our best Chico accent, "If a nightingale..." in order to ensure laughs. Ah, marijuana...

[Glenn Kenny]

Ooops. It was "Monkey Business". My Sundance error generator is still operational, I guess...!

[Vincent]

Great stuff, and the set proves that the Paramount MacDonald was an infinitely more interesting (and sexy) character than her MGM self. Unfortunately, the Paramount Jeanette is also less remembered (always works that way, doesn't it?)

Hopkins had an intriguing career, and it's amazing to see how frequently it intersected with Carole Lombard's over the years. Lombard desperately wanted Hopkins' role in "The Smiling Lieutenant," and Hopkins, not Lombard, would have starred opposite Clark Gable in "No Man Of Her Own" had she not dropped out over billing (a condition of MGM loaning Gable to Paramount). And it was Hopkins -- not Lombard -- who Lubitsch initially envisioned in the leading lady role for "To Be Or Not To Be."

For more on this, see
http://community.livejournal.com/carole_and_co/38343.html