Caffè metropole

Cafe Metropole (1937)

** 1/2 (out of 4)

Decent comedy about the American Alexis (Tyrone Power) who loses a big bet to Monsieur Victor (Adolphe Menjou) and afterwards has to admit that he doesn't have the money to pay up. Through what's basically blackmail, Victor forces Alexis to romance the beautiful and rich Laura (Loretta Young) so that she will marry him and in return Alexis can pay Victor. CAFE METROPOLE offers up a terrific cast but sadly the screenplay is just a tad bit too silly and too far-fetched to be believable. Yes, you might argue that any type of comedy can be silly as long as it makes you laugh and this is certainly true but there's not enough laughs here to really call this a comedy and what happens at the end is just so out of touch with reality that you really can't help but roll your eyes. However, the two leads are in fine form and manage to have that wonderful chemistry that they did throughout their careers. Power isn't believable playing "Russian" but this here isn't all that important as I can overlook this as part of the comedy. Young is as charming as ever and just floats with her grace on camera. The two of them have that good chemistry together and help keep the film moving. Menjou is also good in his supporting role even though the screenplay does very little to actually help him. I think the film works best early on when we see Power and Menjou going after one another as they try to solve the issue with the money. Once Young enters the picture you have the before mentioned chemistry but the screenplay just becomes too wacky for its own good. I think a dose of reality would have really helped things and the various crosses in the final fifteen-minutes just don't work. Still, fans of the three stars will still want to check this one out.

A broke American is forced to pose as a Russian prince in order to pay a gambling debt in "Cafe Metropole," a film written by the multi-talented Gregory Ratoff, who also plays a role in the movie.

This is a funny, light, romantic comedy where the best scenes are saved for the character actors Charles Winninger and Helen Westley, who have great banter. Menjou is a duplicitous restaurateur who blackmails Tyrone Power into going along with his scheme; Loretta Young, romanced by Power, is the beautiful daughter of Charles Winninger.

If you're a shallow person, this is the movie for you because it's Eye Candy City. Power and Young, two people very, very high on any "most beautiful" list, are so ethereally, incalculably gorgeous that it's hard to listen to a word they're saying while they're on screen. And Young's fashions are divine '30s couturier.

This is one of Power's very early films; he was only 22 when it was made, and though only a year older than he was, Young had been around since silent film days. For me, Power's looks reached their full dazzle about two to three years later but if you only saw him in Cafe Metropole, you'd have a hard time believing there could be any improvement in that face. And in a tuxedo for so much of the movie. Almost too much of a good thing.

Anyway, if you can concentrate, Cafe Metropole is a delightful film.

As a bit of trivia, Power and Young made several films together in Power's early days at Fox. They remained friends, and in 1958, Young showed up for Power's funeral straight from filming her TV show, decked out and unrecognizable in Oriental garb and makeup to match.

In the late '70s, she was photographed with Power's son, Ty, Jr., and you would swear you'd gone back in time. His resemblance to his father was so striking, and she was still so very beautiful.

Cafe Metropole finds Adolphe Menjou owner of said title in some trouble. He's got to replace some money he took from the business or go to prison and he's got ten days before his crime is discovered. He thinks he's won it back from a certain American playboy, but when the check is admittedly false, Menjou has a problem.

Adolphe's a clever dude though, he uses the inebriated playboy who is Tyrone Power and tells him to woo and win it from an American girl, Loretta Young traveling in Paris with her parents Charles Winninger and Helen Westley. Be an exiled Russian nobleman, there are so many of them running around Paris these days.

As a romantic Ty can't be beat, but he's certainly one unconvincing Russian going in and out of his accent in the same sentence. But he and Young do hit it off. And why wouldn't Young fall for him, it's Tyrone Power.

Cafe Metropole is an amusing comedy of sorts with a Parisian setting recreated on 20th Century Fox's back lot. Just the kind of entertainment the movie-going public wanted, escapist stuff about Americans enjoying the good life with absolutely no hint of a rumor of a Depression out there. This also showed Ty Power's versatility in handling modern comedy as well as period drama. It holds up well today as people are still embezzling and trying all kinds of madcap schemes to cover and recover.

"Café Metropole" is a very good 1937 comedy romance with top stars of the day. Besides Loretta Young, Tyrone Power and Adolphe Menjou in the leads, a solid cast of supporting actors provide good grist for this film. Among them are Charles Winninger, Gregory Ratoff, Ferdinand Gottschalk, Christian Rub, Leonid Kinskey and Helen Westley.

For the handsome leading male that he was, Tyrone Power didn't make many comedies, probably for good reason. His role as Alexander Brown, aka Alexis, had potential for some very good comedy, especially with his constant switching from accent to his normal voice. Yet, Power seems serious in several scenes with Young that otherwise are light and funny. One can't help but imagine any of several other actors who would have brought some sparkle and more laughter and smiles to this role - William Powell, Melvyn Douglas, Fred MacMurray, Cary Grant or Ray Milland, for example.

Winninger has a pretty meaty role, still in early sound years of his wonderful career as a mostly comedy actor. But the accolades of this film belong to Adolphe Menjou and Loretta Young. Young is her often ebullient self in comedy and romance films, and she lights up every scene in which she appears as Laura Ridgeway. Behind her natural sweetness, Laura is no dummy. And, not that there are dark scenes, but the slightly serious drama parts of the film center around Menjou's Monsieur Victor.

Victor is a real shyster, but a character with mixed personas of a villain, a kind-hearted fellow, a manipulator and con artist. The comedy bridges all of these personas at intervals. But make no mistake about it - no matter how it seems on the surface, everything he does is for Victor. He can handle any situation and is a principal employer of the disenfranchised nobility of Eastern Europe, including Russians. This is a very fun and funny film with snappy and very witty lines scattered throughout. Victor's vanity is hilarious in some of the dialog, while Margaret Ridgeway gets in some good zingers on her brother and Laura's dad, Joseph.

The ending is very funny, and close to screwball comedy. Here are some favorite lines.

Alexis, as the tipsy Alexander Brown, "Victor, you are unquestionably the greatest man in Paris." Monsieur Victor, "I have never denied it, sir."

Alexis, as Alexander Brown, "Do you know anything about that great American institution called taxes?" Monsieur Victor,, "I've been taxing Americans for a long time."

Joseph Ridgeway, "I have but one rule about titles. If they're charming, they're fakes. If they're genuine, they're stupid." Laura Ridgeway, "There he goes again."

Joseph Ridgeway, "The only genuine title that I ever met was that baron that married Frank Crawford's daughter. And he was the dumbest, stupidest, most boring dope that it's ever been my misfortune to shake hands with."

Joseph Ridgeway, "Is this fellow a Russian too?" Monsieur Victor, "Oh yes sir, sir." Margaret Ridgeway, "Then why isn't he driving a taxi?"

Margaret Ridgeway, "Sounds like a royal pickup to me."

Monsieur Victor, bowing, "Your highness, get up! She's consented to dance with you." Alexis, "Who asked her?" Victor, kicking Alexis' foot under the table, "You did -- with an accent."

Alexis, "My accent, she comes and goes, comes and goes, comes and goes."

Laura, "And dogs, do you like dogs?" Alexis, "Oh, yes. Yes, I, I love the Russian wolfhound."

Monsieur Victor, "There are times, Maxl, when I leave myself breathless with admiration." Maxl Schinner, "You leave me breathless, Victor, but not with admiration."

Laura Ridgeway, "By accident of birth, you were born a commoner. All right. By another accident of birth, he was born a prince. And so, you look down on him. Now, I ask you, is that fair?"

Paul, the real Prince Alexis Paneiff, "Victor, Victor! How could you fail to recognize the one who used to tip you in one evening enough money to pay my salary as a waiter for the entire year?" Monsieur Victor, "I can only beg pardon of your serene highness for the one blunder of my life." Paul, "Granted."

Paul, the real Prince Alexis Paneiff, "Why, I'd rather have my blood changed to borscht."

Paul, to Victor, "You I can forgive, because you are such an unmitigated scoundrel -- you might have been a member of my own family."

Alexis, "You can never tell about the Russians". Laura, "Tell what?" Alexis, "You can never tell anything."

Laura, "Well, there's something on your conscience. Have you killed someone?" Alexis, "No. No, that is the trouble. I should like to kill someone."

Margaret Ridgeway, "I consider his remarks unpatriotic. Our own clean-cut young American boys are just as anxious to marry money as the foreigners are."

Monsieur Victor, to Alexis, "That's the trouble with a flawless plan - there's always a flaw in it. In this case there are two - your conscience and my luck."

Joseph Ridgeway, "Get my coat, get my hat, get my sister." Page boy, "Yes, sir."

Margaret Ridgeway, translating the note to the police at Le Havre, "Arrest man posing as Joseph Ridgway aboard Normandie boat train. He is using a stolen passport and credentials. Suspected of being the notorious Smarty Pants Dugan, confidence man."

Margaret, "Well, I guess they got us at last, Smarty Pants." Joseph Ridgeeway, "Shut up!" Policeman, "Smarty Pants? Oh, so you are Smarty Pants."

Policeman, "But not you, madam." Margaret, "I'm his moll. Where he goes, I go - American gangster talk."

Joseph Ridgeway, "Maggie, let me tell you something. If you were a man, I'd punch you right I the puss."

It must be 35 years or so since I saw this film in an "Art House" Theatre. But it still has left one, strong, lingering impression.

There is one scene on the dance floor that took my breath away. Power is wearing a tailcoat and white tie. Young is in a satin floor length gown that clung to even inch of her elegant form. They were dancing like a young god and goddess.

I remember thinking, "At that moment in time, they had to be the two most beautiful people on the face of the earth." I recall nothing else about the film save this moment. But it's quite sufficient.

Sometimes, all it takes is just one scene to leave an impression that makes the memory of a film vivid for decades. In an era when class and style are neither appreciated, celebrated or understood, a film like this is a reminder of these words mean -- or at least meant.