Serenata

When this one was released I was still dazzled by the sleek beauty of the line of 1956 Lincoln automobiles. So, in the opening sequence, when Joan Fontaine, with her protege, Vince Edwards (playing a hot-headed boxer), in a "long, low, luxurious Lincoln" convertible (top down, of course), stop by the side of a vineyard where Mario Lanza is laboring (quite without any sign of perspiration, by the way...must have been an unseasonably cool day, despite the blazing sunshine!), to ask directions, I was hooked. The fire-engine red Premiere convertible is as lovingly photographed as the stars and it wasn't until Sarita Montiel, playing Mario's true love, Juana, makes her entrance, that I ceased wishing that resplendent automobile would again appear to do justice to the use of Technicolor (oops!), I mean, Warnercolor, in this soap-with-music.

Sarita, though her list of Spanish language films is quite awesome, never enjoyed much of a career in Hollywood films. (We weren't nearly as accepting of non-Anglo leading ladies back then.) She is just gorgeous in this one and her playing as the fiery and passionate (what else?!?) Juana helped Mario convince us that he was a man who could be snatched from the diabolical and devastating ensnarements of Joan Fontaine's spoiled heiress, Kendall Hale. The introduction of her character, when Mario flees in disgrace to Mexico, permits a scenic and worth-the-price-of-admission tour of Mexican locales.

The music is fairly well presented in this one. Not being an opera connoisseur, I am not qualified to comment knowledgeably on Mr. Lanza's renditions of operatic excerpts, but I have always found his tenor voice to be among the most listenable (So many of them just bleat!), and his constant reprising of the title song throughout this movie did not grow tiresome, at least to these ears.

A side note: Mario's father, quite a dear old gentleman, who had remarried, lived down the street in the Huntington Palisades section of Pacific Palisades, in southern California, where my family owned a home. I frequently saw Mario's Cadillac parked in his father's driveway, but, alas!, never caught a glimpse of the golden-voiced Mario himself, who was, you may be sure, his father's pride and joy.

Apart from Mario Lanza's singing, which is, as always, wonderful, and Vincent Price's performance as a somewhat less than ethical music critic, there is really very little to recommend about "Serenade." Lanza had been a big fan of the original James M. Cain ("Double Indemnity," et. al.) novel for years, and was always pushing to make it while he was at MGM. After he was fired from MGM, he signed with Warners as part of a three-picture deal, with the provision that "Serenade" be filmed first. Jack Warner, who'd been trying to snag Lanza for years, readily agreed.

The script, by the otherwise excellent Ivan Goff and Ben Roberts, is a highly bowdlerized version of the book, retaining not much more than the title and character names. The film almost relentlessly exposes Lanza's considerable weaknesses as an actor in a way MGM never did. His singing, by contrast, is some of his best, especially in the scenes from Verdi's "Otello" with Metropolitan Opera great Licia Albanese as his Desdemona, a role she sang often at the Met.

As was his wont, Lanza's increasingly irresponsible, unpredictable behavior cost him the other two pictures in his Warners contract, even though "Serenade" was a box-office success. Apparently, Jack Warner was no more patient with him than Dore Schary had been. How ironic, then, that his last two films, made independently in Italy, were released in America by none other than MGM!

Serenade is far and away Lanza's most interesting movie. True, The Great Caruso is a more accessible film (and the best introduction to Lanza), but Serenade packs a far greater punch. This is melodrama to the nth degree, and fittingly it contains some of the finest dramatic singing ever recorded.

Let's get the quibbles out of the way first. Injudicious editing has made some of the scenes appear silly and illogical. The speed with which Lanza becomes obsessed with Joan Fontaine seems absurd, and the ending could have been so much better. Would that the scenarists had had the courage to follow more closely the James Cain novel on which this movie is based, but then again, this was Hollywood, 1955. Had the movie been made without the censorship constraints of, say, a mere ten years later, it could have been a masterpiece. All I can say is, read the novel and you'll see what I mean!

I would also criticize Anthony Mann's direction at times. Re-takes of some of Lanza's hammier moments should definitely have been made, and the film lacks (at times) the full dramatic treatment that its subject deserves. Re-takes of Lanza's Nessun Dorma and Di Quella Pira should also have been made. In both arias he sounds uncharacteristically strained, and in each case a second take would have sorted out the problem.

Quibbles aside, Lanza's acting is often outstanding (the Ave Maria scene, for instance, is a revelation). Vincent Price, Lanza's acid-tongued and hilarious manager in the movie, later remarked off-screen how impressed he was with the tenor's dedicated approach to his acting. Sarita Montiel is also outstanding in her role as a fiery Mexican bullfighter's daughter, providing Lanza with his best-ever leading lady.

But what makes this film a vocal masterpiece is Lanza's singing. La Danza, Torna a Surriento, Amor Ti Vieta, O Paradiso, the Otello Monologue (Dio! Mi potevi scagliar...) and the heart-rending Lamento Di Federico are all astonishing feats of singing. By 1955 Lanza's voice had darkened into a lirico spinto tenor that often borders on the dramatic. It is rare indeed to hear a tenor with such baritonal fullness AND a ringing tenorial top. (Eat your heart out, Placido Domingo!) Lanza For my money, the Otello Monologue is the pinnacle of Lanza's operatic legacy, and the finest recording of this aria. The scene in which it appears is also brilliantly acted by Lanza. As the critic John Cargher would later remark, Lanza's rendition of the Otello Monologue alone "would assure him of immortality."

All criticism aside, Serenade remains a source of immense pleasure to me, and it is richly deserving of far wider appreciation.

Mario Lanza, at the age of 34, was a complete mess - bloated from drinking, overweight, and making a film comeback of sorts. Though his voice had been heard in "The Student Prince," he hadn't appeared in a film in four years. "Serenade," based on the novel by James Cain, minus the gay love affair, was the vehicle to return him to the screen. Cain was a great lover of opera and incorporated it into this novel and also into the novel Mildred Pierce.

Lanza plays Damon, a vineyard worker with a golden voice who is discovered by a socialite, Kendall Hale (Joan Fontaine) who sets him up with a major voice teacher. With the help of Kendall and those around her, Damon is given a star buildup. The only problem is, Kendall is someone who encourages artists and then dumps them. Damon is in love with her, and on the night of his debut (we assume at the Met) singing Otello (a good choice for the story, but he never would have sung it until he was in his fifties at a minimum, if at all), she doesn't show up. He is so obsessed with her that right before he strangles Desdemona, he walks off stage, removes his costume and makeup, and goes to Kendall's place. What an idiot. His career in tatters, he goes to Mexico City and gets a job as Don Ottavio in Don Giovanni. But he's having a nervous breakdown. (No wonder - the role is completely wrong for him.)

Damon winds up ill and is brought back to health by a family which includes Juana (Sarita Monteil). With her help, Damon gradually feels strong enough to try singing again. But can he?

Lanza had a beautiful natural voice. Technique wasn't his strong suit -he scooped a lot and tended to oversing - but he brought opera to the common man. Before him, opera singers in films had been divas and divos - Jeanette MacDonald, Grace Moore et al. - but Lanza always played the truck driver with the beautiful voice. There were comments here on this site that his voice had darkened - frankly, at 34, that shouldn't have happened yet. As a person ages (we're talking 40s and 50s here) the vocal cords thicken and often, the middle voice warms up and becomes stronger, and some of the top goes.

Joan Fontaine, at nearly 40, was a stunning woman with a beautiful, slim figure. At this point in her career, she was playing the society woman, often in roles too young for her, as in "Beyond a Reasonable Doubt." But the sweet, naive girl of Rebecca had turned into the rich woman with an educated speaking voice and cool looks. Unlike other actresses of her age, Fontaine managed to eek out more years in good films than some of her counterparts because of this change in image. She does a great job as the cold Kendall. As Juana, Sarita Monteil is beautiful and her passion and intensity are a great contrast to Fontaine. The gowns in the film were gorgeous for both women.

Mario Lanza was a tragic figure, possessed of a beautiful voice and a natural tendency toward stockiness. Due to the pressure on him to lose weight, his crash dieting and drinking eventually affected his heart. In fact, there was nothing wrong with his appearance or his very likable, relaxed screen presence. But, as with Judy Garland, Louis B couldn't leave it alone. Lanza was a problematic individual, difficult to work with and someone who sexually harassed his female costars. He was his own worst enemy, but what a legacy.

The story is pretty ridiculous but its all presented lushly with all the big studio trimmings. Gorgeous locations in sumptuous Technicolor and a top flight cast all doing good work. Mario is in fine voice even if he doesn't look his best and sings many beautiful songs full of vigor. The script requires more acting than usually asked of him and he pulls it off well enough although no one would ever mistake him for Olivier. Joan Fontaine checks in with the silky brand of villainy that became her stock in trade once her sweet ingénue phase came abruptly to an end sometime after Letter from an Unknown Woman. Did any actress have a more dramatic change of persona than she from dewy vulnerability to brittle hard edged sophistication in so short a time? Anyway she looks incredible and is a fine balance to the breathtaking beauty of Sarita Montiel. The other standout in the cast is Vincent Price in a part that had anybody else with less flair played it would have been nothing. With the sly humor in his voice he makes his lines memorable and walks off with any scene he's in. If you're a fan of any of the stars well worth the time.