Aqui Começa a Vida

"Week-end at the Waldorf" was MGM's attempt to cash in on its earlier success "Grand Hotel" (made in 1932) by re-using the idea of Vicki Baum's play and setting it in wartime.

So the ballerina becomes the actress (Garbo becomes Ginger Rogers), the Baron becomes the war correspondent (John Barrymore becomes Walter Pidgeon), the sick worker becomes the Captain with a heart problem (Lionel Barrymore becomes Van Johnson), and there is still a stenographer (Joan Crawford becomes Lana Turner). In support is the ever reliable Keenan Wynn as an eager-beaver cub reporter.

Where "Grand Hotel" was star-led and rather stagey, with an improbable plot and an air of glamour, "Week-end ..." is somewhat less starry, more cinematic but dull, and lacks the 30s glamour which ran through the earlier film. Rogers does well enough as the bored actress who is waiting for her next film premiere, and Johnson and Pidgeon are personable enough, but Turner doesn't seem to have enough to do and the film, although watchable, feels a little flat.

Something of a pointless exercise, really, as the original film, overall, was much better.

Pleasant reworking of Grand Hotel changes most of what made that film a classic but is entertaining enough on its own. For starters, the tone to this one is far different than Grand Hotel. This is a lighter film with more focus on romance and humor. The setting is changed as well as it is updated to WW2 America. The war figures heavily into several of the story lines. As with Grand Hotel, this is about various characters staying at a plush hotel and how their stories intertwine. The hotel here is the Waldorf-Astoria in New York. Most of the plots have been altered from the original but certain characteristics remain. Ginger Rogers plays a weary actress who falls for equally weary war correspondent Walter Pidgeon, believing him to be a jewel thief. Lana Turner is a stenographer who ponders boss Edward Arnold's "indecent proposal" while falling for bomber pilot Van Johnson. Other actors include Robert Benchley, George Zucco, Keenan Wynn, Samuel S. Hinds, and Leon Ames. Xavier Cugat plays himself and provides a little music. It's all watchable enough and even enjoyable, especially if you aren't nagged by comparisons to Grand Hotel. The cast is nice (except for an overacting Rosemary DeCamp) and the MGM production is classy as you might expect. It won't change your life but I highly doubt you'll regret watching it.

Grand Hotel is considered a classic, and is still well-known today. Week-End At The Waldorf, the remake, is more or less forgotten. It's a bit of a relic of its time. It seems to have been intended as a light, entertaining crowd-pleaser (with heavier moments), and, overall, it delivers on that score.

The two leading couples are played by Ginger Rogers and Walter Pigeon, and Lana Turner and Van Johnson. This being wartime (WWII) in Manhattan, Pidgeon plays a war correspondent and Johnson plays a soldier with a troubling wound - a piece of shrapnel near his heart. Rogers is a movie star and Lana, if memory serves, is a hotel stenographer. I'm not sure why, but neither of the couples has perfect chemistry. Maybe that's why the stars were never paired again. But they play out their parts with all the professionalism you're used to from them, and they're attractive people.

There are some spectacular black-and-white shots of 1945 New York City, and Robert Benchley is around to narrate. There's a big supporting cast, including many well-known faces.

If you're looking to see some glamorous stars in a glamorous setting, with the music of Xavier Cugat (whose orchestra was in residence at the hotel at the time), you should enjoy it.

In many ways Weekend At The Waldorf as a remake for Grand Hotel simply doesn't work. It certainly couldn't have worked at all as a melodrama the way the original was. Remember Grand Hotel was set in Weimar Republic Germany, a time that was most negative, the film came out just before Hitler took power in Germany. Many of the elements of Nazism are to be found in the original, a very pessimistic work.

1945 however was one of the most optimistic times that America ever saw. When the film was released World War II was won in both theaters, the troops were coming home, the Cold War hadn't yet started. You couldn't make a film like Grand Hotel remade to that time in America without changing the plot to have the audience accept it.

So a more optimistic Grand Hotel was done with Weekend At The Waldorf and the parts played by John Barrymore, Lionel Barrymore, Greta Garbo, Wallace Beery, and Joan Crawford were done in this version by Walter Pidgeon, Van Johnson, Ginger Rogers, Edward Arnold, and Lana Turner. Some of those cast names should tell you right away this will be a much lighter film.

The bittersweet interlude between John Barrymore and Greta Garbo becomes a romantic comedy between war correspondent Walter Pidgeon and movie star Ginger Rogers. She's stopping at the Waldorf on a tour and ready to start a new film, Pidgeon just back from covering the war is looking for some peace and quiet. But his reporter's instincts are aroused with the presence of crooked industrialist Edward Arnold at the hotel and trying to sneak into Arnold's room, he mistakenly is smuggled into Rogers's room in a serving cart.

Arnold is up to no good, he's about to put over a sweet deal with visiting oil sheik George Zucco. He needs a stenographer so the hotel sends up Lana Turner, but she impresses Arnold with more than her ability with shorthand.

Turner's a girl whose been done wrong in her life and she's determined to get ahead, no matter what. Even the presence of flier Van Johnson in the hotel who's about to have a delicate operation to remove some shrapnel near his heart, an operation which could kill him and whom she falls for doesn't deter her from making the play for Arnold.

That's not as gimmicky as it sounds. President Andrew Jackson carried around a bullet in his cheat because doctors would not risk an operation at first. He did it for about 20 years. So the writers were on solid ground with Johnson's plight. Zucco's casting as an oil rich Arab sheik, borrowed quite liberally from King Ibn Saud of Saudi Arabis whom FDR visited on the way back from Yalta was also certainly a harbinger of things to come.

Things turn out a whole lot better for the cast members here than in Grand Hotel for the most part. Some other roles of interest are Robert Benchley as gossip columnist and Keenan Wynn as a cub reporter who is from the Lois Lane snoop and scoop journalism school. So is Pidgeon who tells Wynn to get creative in his search for a story. His methods though, not his writing.

Weekend At The Waldorf is done with typical MGM gloss and made Louis B. Mayer quite a bundle. It's not a classic like the film it was based on, but it's still a good piece of entertainment. And of course it's quite the commercial for the Waldorf Astoria hotel. It's still there in New York, not having been taken over by any of the hotel chains. At one time, Herbert Hoover, Douglas MacArthur, and Cole Porter maintained permanent residences on its premises. Two out of those three were there when the film was made.

They probably would recognize the place now. It's still an elegant place, but old fashioned, reflective of their era. But for us we have Weekend At The Waldorf to remind us.

The movie's best part, to me, is seeing the actual army of hotel workers required to keep a high-rise like the Waldorf operating. It's impressive, and sure a lot of free advertising. Anyway, despite the attractive cast, the various light comedy threads fail to gel, making the screen time seem longer than its actual 130 minutes. The movie adds up to bland entertainment, at best. The one sparkling scene is when Johnson's flight captain and Turner's working girl meet, some winsome chemistry there.

The screenplay, however, comes across as a rather clumsy patchwork, at best. For example, shady tycoon Edward Arnold is apparently up to no good (and with oil sheiks, no less), but we never find out more. And what's with Thaxter's role. It comes across like a half-digested morsel, maybe serving as a screen test for a younger MGM performer. Nor does Robert Leonard's uninspired direction help. In fact, it seems odd that the studio didn't assign a top- flight director to what would appear a prestige project.

The biggest disappointment, however, is with the Pigeon-Rogers romance. Now they're both highly capable, charming actors. The problem again is with the screenplay. Pigeon's impersonation of a jewel thief is, I gather, supposed to be zany and out of character. Instead, it comes across as not just implausible but also downright silly despite the pair's best comedic efforts. However, there is one compensation for Rogers— she gets to model an array of 1945's best high fashion, and lovely she is.

Anyway, the script looks to me like a rush job, comparing poorly with Grand Hotel's first-rate screenplay. Unfortunately, this version amounts to a general waste of superior talent, though I must admit coming away with a new appreciation of the boyish Johnson's acting talent. Too bad, some of that didn't better inspire the writers or at least give them more time.