Oh... Rosalinda!

Though their 1940s output is unanimously celebrated by critics and audiences, the Powell/Pressburger collaborations of the 1950s are often forgotten or outright dismissed. I have not seen all of them, save for Gone to Earth and Oh... Rosalinda!! but I was surprised by how good both of them were. No, they're not on the same transcendent heights as the likes of The Red Shoes or The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (heck, precious few movies are), but they are good in their own right and still lovely to look at.

Oh... Rosalinda!! may be a bit of an acquired taste for some people. The aesthetic is very flat and artificial, stagey even, much like the more elaborate Tales of Hoffman but with apparently less of a budget. It's also a bedroom farce, so if you're not much for that kind of comedy, you may find it hard to get into the swing of things. I myself care little for such comedies, but I rather enjoyed this one, mainly due to the strength of the performers. Anton Walbrook is great as the black market dealer who manipulates everyone, showing a great penchant for comedy he rarely got to express in his English language projects. Ludmilla Tcherina is playful and sexy as the woman everyone wants. Mel Ferrer is a bit overdone, but he's not bad at all.

No great classic, but Oh... Rosalinda!! is worth at least one glance from Powell-Pressburger devotees.

I just saw this film on a not-too-great VHS copy and wish it could be released on DVD. It would be a great companion to Tales of Hoffmann by the same team, though it is quite different in flavor.

As in Hoffmann, the film is full of dancing--but much of it has an improvised flavor, a polka down the hall, a can-can by Michael Redgrave in full military evening dress and kepi, as well as lots of waltzing-- and some of the actors are lip-synching the arias as sung by folks with bigger voices. But there is also a lot of spoken dialogue, so the actors get to establish their characters in their own voices. The trouble is that the characters are still the silly, exaggerated characters of an operetta, with chiming watches, comic hangovers, and huge plot-enhancing blind spots.

The most interesting character is of course Anton Walbrook's Dr. Falke, the Bat. As in The Red Shoes and La Ronde, Walbrook plays the man who keeps the whole thing going, the leader of the dance, but here he is euphoric, almost ecstatic. Falke is presented as a black-marketer who arranges parties for the higher-ups of the Four Powers occupying Vienna, and keeps them on good terms with each other; he exploits them, lives off them--and he would like to see them all go home. He is witty and views everything with cheerful irony, but he never stops enjoying himself for a moment, never goes down, only up, up, up.

Ludmilla Tcherina is a delightful French farce heroine, flirting only when absolutely necessary. Michael Redgrave gets to do some great swooping physical comedy (apparently he also did his own singing, but who can tell?). Mel Ferrer comes off well in his light role as the old boyfriend, as does Dennis Price in a smaller role whose main duty is to be recognizable for plot purposes. Anneliese Rothenberger is a reminder of more conventional stagings, where the singers act instead of having actors "sing."

I felt that the 1955 setting was a bit thin--were the 50's really THAT much about denying what had happened and "moving on"? Maybe they were--Pressburger and Powell were good at telling where the wind was blowing.

This 'lost' Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger movie updates Strauss' operetta Die Fledermaus to post-war Vienna, with the city under occupation by the four Allied powers. A romantic romp starring Anton Walbrook, Michael Redgrave and Ludmilla Tchérina as the titular object of desire, its primary pleasure is Hein Heckroth's gaudy décor, and it's not hard to see why it was a critical and commercial flop. If you want to see P&P meld opera and cinema to dazzling effect, try their previous film The Tales Of Hoffmann.

We are big champagne fans and this movie was sponsored by a big French champagne outfit and it couldn't have been more appropriate. The post WWII Vienna setting was marvelously bubbly and clever. Where better to set such an international tale of deception and decadence.

With the recent US occupation of Iraq, this film may be newly relevant. After all,Oh ... Rosalinda! was a plea for an end to the occupation of Austria. The party was over in the mid50s. In another ten years, perhaps, there might be a wonderful remake set in Bagdad.

Surreal, not even taking into account the operetta part. Slightly subversive, too. Normally, surreal and subversive are a great mix, but this one just keeps tripping over itself. I kept waiting for it to get off the ground, and in the process sort of enjoyed the weirdness. But it's not a good movie by any measure.

Think Dr. Caligari crossed with the worst Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland musical you've seen (ok, with better music, but is anyone really _that_ into Strauss?). Or maybe The Third Man on a tremendous amount of ecstasy, except that's way too kind.

My wife thinks Mel Ferrer's performance might have been an inspiration for Jim Carrey's acting style. That's the kind of quality to expect.

Have fun!