Rosalie (1937)

Fans of Eleanor Powell will wonder how she detoured into this Jeanette MacDonald/Nelson Eddy overblown costume piece — and in the role of Jeanette MacDonald no less! Whereas delicate Jeanette would have floated through this pageant with an air of fluttering dignity, pants-wearing Ellie delivers too much punch for a princess. She barks most of her lines and unfortunately comes off as a bitch. A more delicate actress would have softened the barrage of “womanly” insults laid on Nelson Eddy and we would know this meant she was smitten. But with the confidant and athletic Powell delivering the insults you really start to wonder if wooden Eddy is a masochist or just extremely submissive. It’s an electric energy that cost Powell her spotlight, and didn’t fit with MGM’s idea of what a feminine leading lady should be.

Those who are fascinated by Ellie’s unusual (at least on film) gender-play will be thrilled to see her “go all the way” and dress as a man to sneak into a military academy where she leads the cadets in a marching drill in front of a phallic war memorial. While Powell is hardly mannish (and here with Jeanette’s wardrobe and make-up budget she never looked prettier) the production plays with her “masculinity” and dresses her in all extremes of buttoned-downed marching band jackets and crisp uniforms, interspersed with overly feminine gowns with frou-frou puffy sleeves and Jeanette’s corkscrew curls. It’s an inconsistent and mostly unsuccessful gender dichotomy — especially when compared to her smart wardrobe play and winning charisma in the Broadway Melody films.

Her tap numbers are too few and too short — a Pieroette “ballet” on giant drums is an weird jumble of inconsistent imagery, and a brief scene with Ray Bolger makes you wish they’d shared a competitive dance of lightning legwork rather than the time-wasting dialog in the script. Other supporting players are also underused: as the Queen, Edna May Oliver appears briefly in a tiered nightgown that exaggerates her Olive Oil frame, and Frank Morgan does his best to keep the banter rolling as a befuddled monarch with a ventriloquist dummy, but there isn’t enough comedy here to entertain. A sudden accidental revolution in the tiny Balkan monarchy has potential, but is dropped just as quickly. Even the production numbers are too short, following the pattern of the other MacDonald/Eddy films where actual choreography and musical style are ignored for lots and lots of extras (1500 in one scene by some accounts) arranged in expensive costumes and plenty of operetta bombast from Eddy.

Some moments shine, including a stunning solo by Ilona Massey as a nouveau Queen of the Night: she descends a marble staircase followed by an admiring fawn. Nine original songs by Cole Porter include “I’ve a Strange New Rhythm in My Heart”, “Spring Love is in the Air”, “In the Still of the Night”, and “To Love or Not To Love”. An abrupt wedding finale is a lovely tiered cake of gowned women, candelabras, and cellophane drapes, but leaves you wondering what the hell happened.

Other than seeing Eleanor Powell in one of her few starring roles this is a forgettable film that shows no one to advantage, except possibly MGM’s costume department. I can see how this was originally a vehicle for Marion Davies because the sets are jaw-droppingly huge.

Clash of the Titans (1981)

Clash of the Titans marks the end of an era, and a grand swansong for stop-motion animator Ray Harryhausen. In an age where computer controlled effects were becoming the standard, Harryhausen was still one of the few who could orchestrate an entire scene of multiple figure models into expressive believable action.

The story strings together several classic Greek myths and monsters in an episodic adventure starring Perseus (Harry Hamlin), a sheltered son of Zeus who finds himself abruptly put onto the path of destiny, aided by a magic sword, shield, and helmet. The plot is little more than a device to take the hero from one monster to the next, generally in the form of “impossible” tasks that require death-defying confrontations and a few whacks from the magic sword to eventually save and win the Princess Andromeda (Judi Bowker).

It’s quaint effects were already passé, but audiences loved the film and it did very well at the box office. Harryhausen’s reverent interpretations of fantasy creatures was a refreshing antidote to the laser blasts and space capades of the late ’70s. As if to complete its paean to the classics, Mount Olympus is populated with a stellar cast of mature actors as the scheming gods and goddesses: Laurence Olivier is magnificent as Zeus, Ursula Andress a lovely Aphrodite, Maggie Smith as vengeful Thetis, Claire Bloom as cuckolded Hera….

A surprising number of MILFs are on display. In fact the film features so many attractive older women that Judi Bowker as the headstrong princess seems underage and inconsequential. Many reviewers have commented on her Barbie-like performance, and she submits to a brief but gratuitous nude bathing scene as she’s scrubbed for the Kraken’s dinner…, but give the actress credit for somehow retaining an air of regal dignity as she’s draped in a scratchy polyester disco dress and chained to a rock as the town watches her sacrificed to a monster from the sea.

Jack the Giant Killer (1962)

It was a spiteful rip-off of Ray Harryhausen’s 7th Voyage of Sinbad. The stop-motion animation wizard was shopping for investors when he was turned down by producer Edward Small before the movie was funded by Columbia. Years later after Sinbad was a hit Small decided he could make his own version without Harryhausen, even going so far as to hire the same hero and villain, and the same director!

Harryhausen sued and won but the film had already bombed in theaters. To avoid a total financial loss on the television rights Small retooled the knight and sorcery fantasy as a musical, dubbing the actors voices and manipulating the film to make the actors mouths match the new lyrics!

This didn’t help the fact that the film already boasted some of the worst special effects ever shot in color: lumakeyed goblins that only shoot cartoon fire, unfinished puppetoons that sag like melting play-doh, and a hilarious cross-eyed sea monster you just wanna hug. Harryhausen it ain’t!

So what a surprise under all this camp to find such lovely photography and vivid costumes! Truly fantastic cat-eyed witches, a plush medieval castle in dense textures and tapestries, and colorful lighting that runs the gamut from storybook pictures to soft paintings.

A Thousand and One Nights (1945)

Big colorful sets and fantasy costumes are featured in this hokey update to Alladin’s Lamp that never takes itself seriously. Evelyn Keyes is adorable as the genie that no one but handsome Cornel Wilde can see, but he has eyes only for Adele Jergens as the blonde princess. Sidekick Phil Silvers has his eyes on every jewel in the palace. Of course there’s a scheming Vizir and a Sultan switcharoo. A thief masquerades as a prince, and just about every other Arabian Nights cliché is given some sort of send up.

Most of the comedy involves one of the secondary characters turning to the camera and saying something modern while the leads play it straight. Subplots (and villains) are invented then abruptly dropped, and cultural awareness seems unknown in 1940s Hollywood. If this sort of thing makes you cringe you will hate this film, but if you like pretty musical comedy in gorgeous Technicolor there’s a lot here to like!
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