Salome, Where She Danced

"Salmone, Where She Danced" is Yvonne De Carlo's first movie. Apparently it made her a star...though today you wonder why. The movie isn't particularly good and there isn't much to recommend it.

The story begins in Vienna. Salome (De Carlo) is a bit but war is coming, so she accepts an American's offer to come to the States on tour. Once there, the audiences in the American west go insane for her...much like they did when Lillie Langtree toured the west. And, everywhere she goes, men go mad for her...though she seems particularly taken by a highway man who used to be a Confederate soldier.

The film never seems the least bit real, the men ALL go gaga for her in a way that is simply ridiculous and her singing and dancing are NOT particularly arousing or exciting to watch. I actually had a hard time sticking with this one...and the ending, well, it just seemed pretty tough to believe. All in all, a movie I wish I'd just skipped.

This is one of the most incredible, unbelievable film that I have ever seen. Kitsch, of course, certainly, totally crazy, a mix up of western spy, historical, adventure movie with the support in the cast of the flaming Yvonne de Carlo as a kind of Mata Hari character, involved with Bismarck's army. Albert Dekker is excellent here in a German villain role, and Rod Cameron also at his place co starring the great De Carlo. Many folks say that Charles Lamont was the reaf film maker of only one film, this very one, his forever masterpiece. Many audiences will despise this, because it looks like anything, and that's precisely for this reason that I love it.

I saw this in fall 1945> I had left ship on day war ended. We were in far reaches of Pacific and had not had a liberty or seen and spoken with a woman for over a year and a half. I flew to Honolulu for a school and was there for three weeks. Ship arrived and I rejoined it. Fueled and departed without touching shore. Sailors eager to get back to States and liberty and accompanying social life. The first night out the movie was Salome Where She Danced. The moans, and groans, and other manifestations of souls (and bodies) in torment would have amazed those of you who look at this movie in current times, under current circumstances.

I look at the movie now from time to time to savor the feeling of smugness I felt that night. I had had three weeks in Honolulu and so was perhaps less moved by the dance. I still look at it, though, from the experience of long deprivation.

I agree that much of the acting is deplorable, most of the plot, and all of the situations improbable. However, that dance is the whole reason for the show and in the fall of 1945 it was moving, gripping, and memorable.

Ms. De Carlo did some great films - "Criss Cross", "Band of Angels" - but her acting skills never had anything to do with it. Both films I mentioned had her teaming with excellent directors and leads who made up for her limited range. One of the (many) problems with "Salome" is that De Carlo is on her own, neither director nor actors being good enough to provide any supply. David Bruce in particular is so non-expressive he makes Sylvester Stallone looking like Alec Guinness. His love scenes with De Carlo are ridiculous, as he conveys as much love feeling as he had a cow in his arms. So sad, for a better acting *might* have made the screenplay a pill easier to swallow. It takes much humor or abnegation to believe in such a mess of a story, blending Lee and Bismarck, Prussia and West America, and filled with implausible characters and situations. I guess some viewers may find it funny, but I found it simply dull and boring. The only good thing about this flick is its looks: photography is splendid, worthy of a better material, and Ms. De Carlo is really beautiful - if not in an emotive way.

Bombs like this one belong to Golden Age of Hollywood as well as celebrated masterpieces, so one has to accept their existence. But it is not a reason to waste one's time watching them.

Weird pastiche that comes across more like a collection of movie scraps than a coherent storyline. Certainly Wanger and Universal spared no expense in glamorizing Salome (DeCarlo), or mobbing up the crowd scenes, or spreading on the Technicolor. Nonetheless, the screenplay makes no sense except as a vehicle for the modestly talented, black-haired beauty. As I recall, few movie plots I've suffered through are as hopelessly broken as this one. Then too, if the pointless narrative weren't enough, where did they recruit the lame David Bruce as Salome's love interest; he's about as expressive as a guy with face in a freezer. Too bad sexy Salome's romantic clinches couldn't inject some life into him. Small wonder his career went nowhere. No need to go on. Some take the lame results as camp; I take it as a plain bad movie. Good thing DeCarlo not only survived, but flourished.