Aimez-moi ce soir

Looking for the fees owed him by an eccentric nobleman, a Parisian tailor arrives at the country château of a lovely, lonely princess.

Blending wonderful music, witty words and first-rate performances, director Rouben Mamoulian created in LOVE ME TONIGHT a superlative concoction which will delight any discriminating aficionado of early movie musicals. With remarkable naturalism & refinement, Mamoulian weaves the songs into the fabric of the film, managing to highlight the best of them with great gusto, while still displaying some delicate touches of his own. The opening sequence of an awakening Paris and the gradual orchestration of sounds, followed immediately by the integration of the first song into a quick walk along a busy street, is a case in point. The viewer knows instantly that the director is in charge and has everything well in hand--which leads to one's wondering what kind of a Land of Oz Paramount Studios must have been in the early 1930's with both Mamoulian and Ernest Lubitsch working on the lot...

Maurice Chevalier exudes Gallic joie de vivre as the honest tailor whose extraordinary charm & talent beguiles a bevy of blue bloods. Effortlessly dominating his every scene, he exhibits the over-sized personality which put him into the rarefied stratum of the top performers (Baker, Coward, Robeson) of his generation. Lovely Jeanette MacDonald once again is the perfect romantic partner for Chevalier. A fine actress as well as an excellent singer, she throws herself into the film's farcical atmosphere and lends her celebrated voice to the musical proceedings.

Jeanette's château is populated by a gaggle of expert character performers: stern old Sir C. Aubrey Smith as the ducal head of the house; gently daffy Charlie Ruggles as an improvident vicomte; elegant Myrna Loy as a young amorous countess; and Elizabeth Patterson, Ethel Griffies & Blanche Frederici as the Aunties--slyly depicted as either a trio of benevolent witches or a pack of excited puppies. Soft-spoken Charles Butterworth plays the timid count who wishes to marry Miss MacDonald. Joseph Cawthorn is the no-nonsense family doctor. Rotund Robert Greig portrays the château's imposing major-domo.

Movie mavens will recognize sour-faced Clarence Wilson as a shirtmaker; Ethel Wales as a temperamental dressmaker; and Edgar Norton as a valet--all uncredited.

Except for the sadly vulgar--albeit tongue-in-cheek--apache tune, the rest of Rodgers & Hart's music is very entertaining, especially the two most famous numbers: 'Isn't It Romantic' (begun in Paris by Chevalier, and traveling by taxi, train, marching soldiers and gypsies it eventually reaches MacDonald on her balcony) and 'Mimi,' sung first by Maurice to Jeanette, but eventually echoed, hilariously, by many of the inhabitants of the château).

Sumptuous production values and costumes by Edith Head add greatly to the film's overall quality.

Without a doubt, this is a film that should be seen by more people as it was way ahead of its times! The film is helped by the magnificent direction of Rouben Mamoulian, who knew a thing, or two, about how to create movies that endured the passage of time. The film has the magnificent score by Rodgers and Hart, the leading geniuses of the American musical theater.

The picture is a joy to watch from the beginning. The opening sequence in Paris, as people go about their daily routine, ending with Maurice arriving at his own tailor shop is amazing. The story is pure fantasy, but it serves the movie well. The time where this movie was made had a different feel and there was an innocent air surrounding the magic the new talking pictures that were coming out in the early 30s.

The casting proves to be also excellent. Maurice Chevalier, who was an idol in France, made it big in America. He had a personality that put a good feeling to any character he played. Jeannette McDonald, the leading lady was a favorite of the movie going public and it's easy to see why she was adored.

Also a young and fresh Mirna Loy, joins Charles Ruggles and Charles Butterworth in the supporting roles.

This film should be included in any collection of the discriminating movie fan.

There are so many elements regarding LOVE ME TONIGHT that crossed to create one of the great musicals of American film. It probably was the best score for a Hollywood film done by Rodgers and Hart, including "Isn't It Romantic", "Mimi", and "Lover", as well as "The Sonofagun is Nothing But a Tailor" (only their scores for HALLELUJAH, I'M A BUM and THE PHANTOM PRESIDENT are as interesting, but the former only produced one standard, and the latter produced none). From their first arrival in motion pictures Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart experimented with singing that replaced dialog. Here it finally got it's opportunity to show what it could do. That's due to them having a master director (who would turn out to be more of a stage and musical director than a film one - though his films remain more than interesting), Rouben Mamoulian. Always willing to experiment in his film (in DR. JECKYLL AND MR. HYDE, having the camera take the point of view of Fredric March for part of the film; using color to show suggestions of the threat of military violence in BECKY SHARP) Mamoulian was willing to go along with his musical pair in the extended songs like "How are you?" and "Isn't It Romantic". The latter beginning in Chevalier's tailor shop eventually involves people passing the melody from the street to a musician in a taxicab to a marching brigade of troops to gypsies to Jeanette at her palace. The cast was perfect, with Chevalier and MacDonald joined by their former ONE HOUR WITH YOU co-star Charlie Ruggles, as well as Myrna Loy, Charles Butterworth (who has some funny lines for a change), and C. Aubrey Smith. It is rare for everything in a musical to fit together so well.

Chevalier is a tailor who made the mistake of making a complete wardrobe for Ruggles a supposedly wealthy aristocrat. Ruggles owes him a lot (as well as all the other people who made parts of the clothing for Ruggles - at Chevalier's recommendation). So they send him after Ruggles, who has gone to his rich uncle's home in the country. This is C. Aubrey Smith, a reactionary old Duke. He is also the protector of Princess Jeanette, now a widow (don't feel bad for her, as Dr. Joseph Cawthorn finds out). Also staying with the Duke is Count Charles Butterworth, a scholarly aristocrat (and just as hesitant and bumbling in his delivery of dialog here as in other films, but here his comments are funny). Finally there is Smith's niece, Myrna Loy, who never saw a pair of men's pants that she did not care to open.

Chevalier's appearance is an embarrassment to Ruggles, who may be disinherited by Smith over his debts. So he keeps Chevalier from admitting that he is a tailor, and finally suggests that Chevalier is a king traveling incognito. As Chevalier and MacDonald slowly fall in love, the suspicion that he is a monarch makes him possibly a perfect match for the widowed Princess. Chevalier also enlivens the dull château with his songs (including an "Apache" number, as well as "Mimi" which everyone ends up singing - including C. Aubrey Smith!). But what would happen if the truth comes out? That is what leads to the conclusion of the film.

Many of the early surviving films of the 1930s are cut from what they originally were like. And the film that was cut is usually lost forever. In the case of LOVE ME TONIGHT, the loss is truly sad because of the quality of the film that survives. But at least we do have that surviving footage to marvel at and enjoy.

I have watched this movie in part several times, but caught it tonight on TCM or from my DVR of a recent showing. It is a special one, and was interested in checking out these magnificent sets created for it. They were wonderful.

Liked Chevalier in this particularly. I agree with the reviewer who finds Jeannette McDonald's singing a bit of a trial. I don't care for most opera type singing. Get ready for some corn here: Was reminded of something Andy Griffith said about opera singing (from a comic recording), "Some people say opera is just hollerin', and it is; but it's high class hollerin'." It comes across that way to me. That quote may offend the cinematic detail oriented enthusiasts of this film - sorry.

However, I have enjoyed a few old operettas, thinking of "Sweet Kitty Bellairs" from 1930 featuring Claudia Dell and Walter Pidgeon. Ms. Dell was easier on the ears than Ms. McDonald. Pidgeon's singing was pleasing, and I found the piece entertaining.

In watching C. Aubrey Smith in this, I thought for the umpteenth time whether he was born an old man. He is always ancient in every movie I have ever seen with him. Actually, his Hollywood films were done in his elderly years. Finally looked him up and found he was born in 1863. Wow. He did London stage, Broadway and came to Hollywood much later. He died in California at age 85.

This is a good film and has interest for its genre. It is probably my favorite Chevalier. It was odd seeing Charles Ruggles in this. They were talking about Myrna Loy during the intro to the movie, saying this film may have begun her being used in something other than the Oriental evil women or vamp types. Only a few people were making the decisions on casting back then in the studio system, and thankfully, they finally broke her out of that old mold and began to find out how engaging she was as a wife and later as a comedienne.

Good film.

No, really -- I defy anyone to name a movie musical more exuberant, more creative, more romantic, melodic, hilarious, or escapist; not even "Singin' in the Rain" equals it. From opening shot (a rhythmic ballet-mechanique of Paris coming to life at dawn) to fade-out (a happy-ending finale that also parodies Eisenstein), it's bursting with ingenious ideas.

The pre-Code screenplay, rife with double entendres and social satire, is a princess-and-commoner love story written to the strengths of its two stars: Chevalier, never more charming, and MacDonald, never a subtler comedienne. With one foot in fantasy and the other in reality, it manages to sustain an otherworldly feeling even while grounded in the modern-day Paris of klaxons, tradesmen, and class consciousness. The supporting cast is phenomenal, with Myrna Loy as a man-hungry countess, C. Aubrey Smith doing his old-codger thing, Charles Butterworth priceless as a mild-mannered nobleman ("I fell flat on my flute!"), and Blanche Frederici, Ethel Griffies, and Elizabeth Patterson as a benign version of the Macbeth witches' trio.

All are wonderful, but the real muscle belongs to the director and the songwriters. Mamoulian's camera has a rhythm of its own and many tricks up its lens: note the fox-hunt sequence suddenly going into slow-motion; the Expressionist shadowplay in Chevalier's "Poor Apache" specialty; the sudden cuts in the "Sonofagun is Nothing But a Tailor" production number. As for the Rodgers and Hart score, it's simply the best they ever wrote for a film -- maybe the best anybody wrote for a film. The songs are unforgettable in themselves -- "Isn't It Romantic?", "Mimi," "Lover," etc. -- but, and here is where genius enters, they're superbly integrated and magnificently thought out. Note the famous "Isn't It Romantic" sequences, the camera roaming effortlessly through countless verses from tailor shop to taxi to field to gypsy camp to castle, finally linking the two leads subliminally, though their characters have never met. "A musical," Mamoulian once said, "must float." This sequence may float higher than any other in any musical.

Best of all, you can sense the unbridled enthusiasm the authors must have had for this project: Rodgers and Hart seem positively giddy with the possibilities of cinema, eager to defy time, place, and reason as was never possible for them onstage. What a pity that this magnificent movie isn't available on video, so that future generations can't easily rediscover its brilliance.