The French Line

The British publication "Radio Times" in a recent review said that Jane Russell was past her prime in this movie. Were they watching? She looks great, her singing is fantastic and she seems to really enjoy herself in this film.

In my book this is one of the best musicals of the 1950's, but it's strength is that it doesn't take itself too seriously. Irreverent and vulgar, the plot is a feminist's nightmare and Jane Russell's "talents" are exploited to the full. As the picture was released originally in 3D, the tagline was "Jane will knock BOTH your eyes out!"

One of the most censored movies in American history, the film was cut to shreds in many states. The final musical number "lookin' for trouble" is truly outrageous. But the overall spirit of the film is goodnatured and full of energy.

Watch this film again and again!

"The French Line" is a musical comedy about love and romance. It contains no sex scenes and no nudity or even toplessness. There is no violence, no foul language and no drug references. It is so square it even features a heterosexual male fashion designer. It seems like the sort of film that could be enjoyed by all the family without offending anyone.

Wrong. When it was released in 1954 it was condemned as immoral by the Catholic League of Decency who, apparently, took exception to the supposedly revealing costumes worn by its star, Jane Russell. Ironically, Russell, herself a devout Christian, had been unhappy about wearing a bikini in the film and had been allowed to exchange this for a one-piece swimsuit, but even this gesture towards modesty failed to placate the League.

The film is essentially a remake of a comedy from the thirties called "The Richest Girl in the World". In that film the heroine, Dorothy, was the heiress to a large fortune. She was worried that potential suitors would love her for her money and not for herself, and therefore changed places with her attractive secretary Sylvia. If any man showed an interest in the supposed 'Sylvia' (really Dorothy in disguise), she would suggest that the supposed 'Dorothy' (really Sylvia in disguise) had fallen in love with him and would welcome a proposal of marriage. The real Sylvia was happily married and had no interest in any of Dorothy's suitors; the point of this charade was that a man who showed any interest in the fake 'Dorothy' had failed the test and proved himself unworthy of the real Dorothy's hand.

In "The French Line" this situation is given a new twist. The heroine, Mary, is also the heiress to a large fortune (from ranching and oil in Texas), but she has precisely the opposite problem. Whereas Dorothy was worried about attracting unscrupulous fortune-hunters, Mary (somewhat improbably for a girl who combines great wealth with the looks of Jane Russell) is unable to attract men at all, as potential husbands are actually deterred by the thought of all that money. (Well, this is a work of fiction). The film begins with Mary's third fiancé in succession breaking off their engagement.

Mary is travelling to Europe on a luxury French liner, and swaps identities with a young fashion model named Myrtle in order to conduct a romance with a smooth French designer named Pierre. In the fifties models were presumably less well paid than they are today, when supermodels will not wake up for less than $10,000. Today a fashion model would probably have more in her bank account than a Texan oil millionairess. (Actually, that famous quote from Linda Evangelista dates back to the early nineties. Allowing for inflation, it must now cost at least $20,000 to get a supermodel out of bed).

This is one remake that is rather better than its original. "The Richest Girl" is a very short film, and seventy minutes were not sufficient either to develop the characters or to bring out all the comic possibilities of the situation; the conclusion, in particular, is rushed and muddled. "The French Line" is a very light-hearted, frothy confection (in many places seeming to double up as an extended advertisement for the fashion industry), but at just over 100 minutes it does have more developed characters, not just Mary and Pierre, but also Myrtle and Mary's old friend Annie, also working as a fashion designer. The one character I did not like was Mary's guardian Waco Mosby. He was supposed to be a larger-than-life, tough-talking Texan, but because he seemed to be the sort of American who treated the Declaration of Independence as also being a declaration of war on the English language, I found it difficult to understand a word he was saying.

Although the music is nothing special when compared to the likes of, say, Rodgers and Hammerstein, the song and dance numbers do add to the charm of the film, as well as showing off Jane Russell's charms to their best advantage. And any film which annoys America's narrow-minded Puritans cannot be wholly bad. 6/10

It is difficult getting past the terrible condition of the RKO Technicolor print for The French Line. It is even more difficult believing that nobody has wanted to do something about it. Someone: please clean it up, restore it, do whatever needs to be done.

Jane Russell is superb as a sassy southern belle on a cruise to Europe. Adding to the fun is character actor Arthur Hunnicutt and leading man Gilbert Roland. The musical numbers are indeed risqué but the lyrics and choreography are not to be missed. Neither is Miss Russell's costuming which one must see to believe.

Aside from a better print, the only way this film could have possibly been better: if Robert Mitchum had been in it.

"The French Line" was a Howard Hughes-produced opus in 3-D, designed to showcase star Jane Russell (you can make your own guesses what the purpose of putting this innocuous musical in 3-D was...I'll give you two!). To be kind, its no "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes", to which it has some similarities.

Jane plays a Texas girl who is a reluctant millionairess - she has inherited her late father's ranch, which happens to be sitting on copious oil fields. But poor Jane only wants a man who will love her for who she is, not her money. She bewails her lot to her friend and guardian, ranch hand Arthur Hunnicutt, when her latest beau, Craig Stevens, jilts her before heading to the altar because he, like all the others, can't handle having a rich wife. Hunnicutt talks her into not canceling her planned wedding cruise to Paris on the French line, the Liberte (as pronounced by Jane, the Li-burr-tay), only she decides to go incognito so she can catch a man who knows nothing about her money.

Well, first of all, do you really think a millionairess who happens to look like Jane Russell would have such problems? This is purely a confection of a film and not worth worrying about plot lines, but its all just pretty damn silly. And unfortunately, someone decided it should be a musical except all the blah numbers are staged very awkwardly. Jane is beautiful, but hasn't much to work with here and leading man Gilbert Roland seems both a bit too mature as a match for her and definitely too Spanish to play a Frenchman (they try to pawn it off by giving him a Spanish mother). It all ends with a fashion show which just may be the most ludicrous of many far-fetched Hollywood fashion shows. And by now, all the naughtiness which got this opus condemned by the League of Decency and denied a Production seal (Jane's skimpy costumes and bumps & grinds) seem fit for a toddler to watch.

I am so stunned by the hilarious vulgarity of THE FRENCH LINE it is all I can rave about. Stacked to the hilt with personally supervised costumes and showgirl extras by bra master Howard Hughes, notorious for making glamorous RKO into a burlesque production line, the casting couch there must have needed new springs by the time this technicolour-3D extravaganza hit screens Nationwide in 1954. Seemingly made for the knee slapping amusement of rich Texan hicks and crafted by trapped RKO professionals who must have sighed at having to work on such hillbilly antics, THE FRENCH LINE is an oceangoing girlie show wrought into some semblance of a farce. Jane Russell is as usual her spunky insolent self and gets to showcase her famous torpedo talents in outfits leaving nothing not spangled. Her two main numbers near the end of the film are the ones that caused the outrage in '54 and today are probably the best drag queen numbers one could imagine. A masterpiece of tawdry tinsel, swim outfits and frocks. You'll titter all through THE FRENCH LINE, rather like Howard must have all through production. Hilarious! Republic must have realized RKO wanted the bumpkin musical films and realized Judy Canova was no Jane Russell.