Home Video Reviews
The narrative, unlike Mamoulian's technique, is simple enough. A jovial Parisian tailor named Maurice (Maurice Chevalier) is forced to approach one of his customers, the Vicomte de Vareze (Charles Ruggles), for payment of a bill. When Maurice visits the Count's estate, the Count is embarrassed to admit that he can't pay him. In an attempt to make it up to Maurice, the Count introduces the tailor to his royal friends as a Baron. Princess Jeanette (Jeanette MacDonald), who took no notice of Maurice when he was a commoner, now finds herself falling for him, and romance ensues. Myrna Loy is also on hand as a nymphomaniac Countess who delivers an armful of memorable zingers before everything reaches the expected happy ending.
The opening sequence that people are still so enamored of consists of two lengthy songs, and several snatches of dialogue, that introduce a vast array of characters while simultaneously conveying the environment they inhabit. Mamoulian's camera journeys from the rooftops of Paris (actually a remarkable facsimile built on Paramount's backlot) to a crew of workers paving a street, then on to some shoemakers whose hammers join the symphony of construction sounds. We then see and hear bums sleeping in the street, a woman shaking out some bed sheets, and cars with horns that honk out another counterpoint to the building rhythm. Finally, we come to rest on Maurice, who's getting dressed for the day. But this virtuoso piece of filmmaking is only just getting started!
Maurice will begin singing "The Song of Paree" while leaving his apartment, and several other characters will get introduced. Eventually, Maurice will have reason to croon Isn't it Romantic, and the song itself will travel across the city, taking on different arrangements courtesy of, among others, a platoon of marching soldiers and a gypsy violinist. Before it's over, MacDonald, Charles Butterworth, and Loy will also be introduced. This elegant sequence puts today's slash-and-burn style of storytelling to absolute shame. It's what people mean when they reference "the magic of movies"- you can only accomplish this kind of thing on film.
Actually, it's a bit surprising that Mamoulian was so audacious. He made his name in the musical theater, first with an opera that was produced in Rochester, New York, then with several successful Broadway shows. But of all the theater directors who eventually ventured into movies, Mamoulian was the first to realize cinema's music-related possibilities.
Mamoulian's other groundbreaking move on Love Me Tonight was to finish the script after Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart completed their songs. In this way, he was able to see to it that the tunes moved the plot along, rather than simply appearing out of nowhere, as if pasted into a storyline that could have just as easily existed without them. It worked like gangbusters, and became one of the central techniques of great Hollywood musicals. In later years, Mamoulian would bring his talents back to the stage, where he would direct such legendary musicals as Porgy and Bess and Oklahoma!.
Though such diverse experts as Kurt Weill and Vincente Minnelli would call Love Me Tonight the greatest musical ever made, its production wasn't completely smooth. Mamoulian never really got along with MacDonald, who found the director to be dry and humorless. And most of the crew agreed with her. One electrician even dropped a lamp dangerously close to Mamoulian's head, and a sound man purposely allowed some audio mishaps (like a sneeze) to be recorded on the soundtrack.
Mamoulian finally approached MacDonald for help, and she told him, "Rouben, we are supposed to be making a comedy, a gay picture full of laughter. But it's almost impossible in the funereal atmosphere you're creating." Mamoulian listened, and soon thereafter saw to it that a more relaxed working environment was in place. It certainly shows in the finished product.
Kino has done an excellent job of bringing this landmark musical to DVD. The transfer is on a par with anything Criterion could render from this early period in sound cinema. Yes, there is some slight background audio noise in the non-musical passages (not uncommon for an early thirties film) and some minor speckling over the opening credits. But the black and white cinematography is sparkling with excellent contrast levels and for a change, the extras are really worthwhile and not empty filler. They include an informative commentary by Miles Kreuger (President of the Institute of the American Musical - did you know there was one?), two musical shorts (one of Chevalier singing his signature song, "Louise," and one of MacDonald warbling "Love Me Tonight" from a Hollywood on Parade newsreel), and most interestingly, documents of Pre-Code censorship issues and excerpts of deleted scenes. Overall, a wonderful addition to any DVD film library.
For more information about Love Me Tonight, visit Kino International. To order Love Me Tonight, go to TCM Shopping.
by Paul Tatara