La viuda alegre

This is why Hollywood use the expression "The Lubitsch Touch". Almost every film made by that most delightful of directors was sprightly and hilarious and sexy, and this is one of his most delightful. It's the best version filmed.

Maurice Chevalier is of course just as attractive as a man can be, and Jeanette MacDonald is wonderfully funny and sexy (why oh why did she ever team up with Nelson "The Singing Capon" Eddy? With Chevalier she was enchanting, with Eddy you wanted to slap her), and the supporting cast is delightful. Wonderful script, wonderful score, fabulous thirties-period costumes, all in all a delight.

MGM's second version of 'The Merry Widow', this time using the music of Lehar's operetta and starring Jeanette MacDonald and Maurice Chevalier in the roles previously filled by Mae Murray and John Gilbert in the silent movie.

Jeanette MacDonald is a revelation here if you've only seen her in the films which teamed her with Nelson Eddy from 1935 and 1942. Her Sonia is sparky, flirty, and naughty, and naturally in beautiful voice as ever. Maurice Chevalier brings his considerable Gallic charm to the role of Count Danillo, while familiar character faces of the period flesh out the supporting cast (Edward Everett Horton, Donald Meek, Una Merkel, Sterling Holloway).

The film looks sumptuous, with beautiful sets and striking black and white photography. Definitely one of the key musicals of the 1930s.

The great Ernst Lubitsch clearly understood the material in which "The Merry Widow" was based. Being European himself, he clearly identified with this delightful Franz Lehar operetta that had been charming audiences throughout the years. Mr. Lubitsch places the action in the small country of Marshovia, in central Europe. The director had an eye for the great spectacle he presents for us. Mr. Lubitsch greatest achievement is that he seems to have his camera waltzing all the time. The result is an amazing triumph for MGM.

In fact, the glorious sets one admires in the film are breathtaking. For a film made in 1934, the art directors, Cedric Gibbons and Gabriel Scognamillo recreate the royal palace of Marshovia in amazing detail, as well as the Paris scenes with an elegance and good taste that shows the resources of the studio that didn't spare anything. The black and white cinematography of Oliver Marsh enhances the Lubitsch style. Adrian's gowns look luxurious and the editing of the film by Francis Marsh give the film continuity without ever making the action appear forced or staged.

The pairing of Maurice Chevalier and Jeanette MacDonald was an match that seems to have been made in haven. Both actors are a delight to see. Mr. Chevalier with his French accent and mannerisms make his Count Danilo the charmer he is. The beautiful Ms. MacDonald is mysterious at first, when we meet her, then as she has fallen in love, changes her attitude and realizes Danilo is the man for her.

The secondary roles are played with great panache by the genial Edward Everett Horton, who as the ambassador to Paris, is under orders to have Sonia, the wealthy woman, accept Danilo and return to Marshovia with all her money. George Barber plays the King Achmed and the incomparable Una Merkel is seen as Queen Dolores.

The Merry Widow waltz received a great production number in which about a hundred couples are seen dancing around Sonia and Danilo, first in white tuxedos and gowns and later in black ones. Later all the couples are mixed together creating such a rich moment. By today's standards that sequence couldn't have been done, or it must have cost a fortune, or perhaps would have digitally mastered in order not to pay dancers to appear dancing in the movie.

Let's just be thankful there was a man with a vision, Ernst Lubitsch, and let's be grateful for his vision and his legacy.

This film is nothing short of glorious. Before films decided they had to be realistic they had style, and Lubitsch was the style king. Everything about this film is sumptuous and beautiful, and the Oscar winning art direction of Cedric Gibbons and Fredric Hope is truly magnificent. Not bad either are the gowns of Adrian.

MacDonald and Chevalier are excellent together, there is great support from Edward Everett Horton - and who will ever forget the magic scenes between Chevalier and the king and the queen - irresitably played by Una Merkel and George Barbier. The script is witty and a little naughty ("I know what to do with her but I'm too old"), the cinematography breath-taking and the music gorgeous.

But the star of the show is Lubitsch - the mass waltz scene is magnificent, the depiction of MacDonald's mourning clothes (all black - even the dog!) and their transformation into white is astonishing and, just when you think the plot is running out of steam, he gives us an hilarious ending that is unforgettable.

If you ever get a chance to see this on the big screen, run don't walk to the cinema. A perfect 10.

Andrew Sarris once wrote that "Lubitsch suggests the art of lilting waltz or bubbling champagne" and nowhere is this truer in "The Merry Widow", Lubitsch's last musical, his first transition to MGM, and my own pick for Lubitsch's greatest musical (rivalled only by either "One Hour With You"(1932) or "The Smiling Lieutenant"(1931)). It just doesn't get any better than this. Lubitsch's approach here is to exploit Cedric Gibbons' enchanting Art Deco with wit. He also displays an eye for real, human emotion within the marvellous, dreamy world. There are many highlights, including the rousing rendition of "Delia" at the beginning, Chevalier's Danilo at the Maxim's, but the most extraordinary of all is The Merry Widow Waltz, a joyous blend of gaiety and sadness. In several successive shots, Danilo and Jeanette MacDonald's Sonia are shown alone on a dance floor and then exquisitely enveloped by hordes of dancers sweeping in from all sides - then all this enchanting splendour is climaxed by Lubitsch revealing that the whole ballroom scene is the subjective dream of the lovers. What appears to be the dance of life is in fact the dance of death.

Lubitsch will later reprise the waltz in his imperishable 1943 masterpiece "Heaven Can Wait" when Don Ameche recalls it on his death bed. Not to Mention, Alfred Hitchcock in "Shadow of a Doubt" as a reminder of death and mortality.