Sweet Kitty Bellairs

Altogether lavish, silly, trite and dull...this is the sort of thing that is handled best by Sheridan, Congreve and later by Oscar Wilde. The script lacks the charm and wit of those masters to put it over. Without that it's only very dull trifle, looking good but tasting terrible. The opening chorus is overladen, cumbersome and sluggish like most of the music and acting. Labored and graceless.

On the plus side, the sets and costumes are lavish and great fun can be had in seeing a very young Walter Pidgeon in knee britches and periwig warbling his love song, Claudia Dell warbling hers, and then the two of them intertwining their separate songs in a resulting duet. For me, that was the high and sole enjoyable point of this unfortunate enterprise.

This film is an interesting curio of the progress of early sound films and the musical glut that killed off the genre for several years. The original film (in Technicolor--no longer) is lavish and is very much an operetta with sung dialogue, connecting musical sequences, and musical underscoring. It's all way-overplayed and the morals on display are rather questionable. What is interesting is the continuity of music and scenes, outdoor recording and camera work, camera movement, and tracking shots which required pre-or post recording after the film had been finished. The whole picture is edited and recorded very professionally probably by the most advanced studio in these techniques at the time. The film is technically impressive and if you're into old movies its worth 63 minutes of your time.

I want to thank Richard Barrios for praising this little gem in his definitive book "A Song in the Dark: The Birth of the Musical Film." Otherwise I'd never have known about "Sweet Kitty Bellairs." Even if I had I might not have bothered. A 1930 screen operetta based on a 1903 play set in 18th century England--doesn't sound very enticing, does it? But "Sweet Kitty Bellairs" is genuinely sweet: an exquisitely stylized confection made by people well aware of the material's absurdity and delighted by its artificiality. Far from being a stuffy, sexless period piece, this is a saucy and buoyant pre-code escapade, free of cloying sentiment and reveling in the absurdities of powdered-wig codes of honor and sexual propriety.

It's short and sweet too. Director Alfred E. Green keeps the story galloping for 63 minutes (with tracking shots of highwaymen singing on horseback). Considering the date, this is fluid and lively film-making, not at all stagy. The witty songs move the story along and don't try to be showstoppers. The lead actors (Claudia Dell, Walter Pidgeon, and baritone Perry Askam) sparkle with irony, but Ernest Torrence walks away with the film. Playing a cloddish jealous husband, he's delighted by the role's buffoonery, sputtering into falsetto at the ends of his lines. And as a former member of the D'Oyly Carte Opera Company, he knows how to sing! Alas, by the time "Sweet Kitty Bellairs" was released the public had been so glutted with bad musicals that it neglected the good ones. Hence the obscurity of this Bonbon of a movie.

Sweet Kitty Bellairs is a great example of what I maintained in those early days of sound. All the studios big and small were scrambling to purchase all kinds of plays, anything with dialog so that the players could talk. Especially the new ones with stage training to replace the pantomimists of silent days.

In the case of Sweet Kitty Bellairs this was an old chestnut of a British Regency comedy of manners where it was decided to put music to it. Nothing terribly distinguished but serviceable for the plot. And no one seems to be taking credit. Note five different people in the credits are listed, but not one of those five says 'music by' or lyrics by'. I'm sure there's a story.

This film plays like a romance novel set to music with a dashing highwayman who is also an aristocrat, a shy poet, and a woman of a scandalous reputation. Add to that some Regency Era fops and a dirty old lord with gout and you've got Sweet Kitty Bellairs.

The film was old fashioned when it was released but it is an interesting antique and reflective of what producer David Belasco gave to the public in his highlight days during the gaslight era before World War I.

As Belasco was still alive when this came out, I wonder what he thought of it?

Claudia Dell gets a star build-up in this one and although the camera clearly loves her, particularly in mid length profile, this whole movie of an adventuress in the city of Bath is so miscalculated that it is occasionally embarrassing. The performances are pitched for the stage, rather than the movie screen and while this style of light opera might have suited Offenbach and Gilbert & Sullivan, by this period, the only other extant examples are those moments in Marx Brothers movies when Groucho sings "I want my Shirt" to something from CARMEN and occasional revivals of THE STUDENT PRINCE. The best version of that is a silent movie.

The whole thing is interestingly shot to look like a Hogarth series and if the music is rarely distinguished, at least "Peggy's Leg" has a little antiquated ribaldry about it. It is fascinating to see Walter Pidgeon as a young man and Miss Dell is lovely. She is reputed to be the model for the Columbia Pictures torch lady.

However, the story is that there was such a glut of poor movie musicals in 1929 and 1930 that the public refused to see them, killing the genre until 1933. Looking at this one, I can believe it.