Amor, Eterno Amor

When I saw it in'75 (I was 25 at the time) I walked out of the theater smiling, and sang Cole Porter tunes in my car all the way home. It was a preview, so it hadn't been panned yet and I had formed my own opinion. Eileen Brennan cracked me up in her wanton pursuit of John Hillerman. Cybill was just my age and a knockout and, no, she doesn't sing badly. I've never been a big fan of Burt, but I liked him more after the movie than before. Kahn was marvelous, Del Prete the weak link, because I couldn't understand his English. Don't expect it to be more than cotton candy, it's sweet without substance and doesn't pretend to be more. It was probably the first exposure I'd had to Cole Porter since Can-Can (1960 - I was 10 then) and I fell in love with his music again, and forever. It's not the Music Man or Top Hat or Flying Down to Rio, but just go along for the pleasant ride, enjoy the sets and costumes, and, especially, the words and music. If you want to trash it, go ahead, but I think that those who do need a glass of champagne(or two)and to just chill out. --- Carl

Remember the scene in the remake of "The Fly" when Gena Davis and Jeff Goldblum are tasting a steak and then tasting a steak that has been sent through the molecular transporter? The reaction is that the transported steak tastes "synthetic", like a computer's "interpretation" of what a steak is. That's the same sensation you get with "At Long Last Love". Bogdanovich, heady with success and power, decided that he could make a "live" musical, the way they had to make them in the Thirties. "Hey, I know what Musicals are made of!" you can imagine him saying. What he didn't understand was casting and historical context. His musical is plastic, inept, and grotesquely embarrassing. It is a "must-see" for your All-Time Worst Movies list, along with John Boorman's "The Heretic: Exorcist II". It's that bad.

Writer-director Peter Bogdanovich attempts to resurrect the fast-talking, romantic-minded musicals of the past with "At Long Last Love", but he fails to infuse it with the proper talent. As a wealthy heiress in smart society circa 1935, dating an immigrant gambler but in love with a playboy, Cybill Shepherd doesn't quite invoke the spirit of Jean Arthur or Ginger Rogers. She's boxy and flippant, like a female impersonator, and she never connects with anyone else on-screen. Burt Reynolds fares a bit better by emulating Clark Gable--affable yet quizzical--though he has more rapport with Madeline Kahn as a Broadway chanteuse than with shallow Shepherd. We can see that, but why can't Bogdanovich? Because the picture is meant as a showcase for Shepherd's musical and comedic talents, however her dancing abilities are nil and she's pseudo-addlepated without being funny. The movie, scored with Cole Porter songs (which the actors sing live), doesn't soar, however Kahn manages to blossom regardless--and in unexpected ways (she's softer and more womanly than ever before). John Hillerman, as Reynolds' valet, and Eileen Brennan have a nice romantic subplot, and Mildred Natwick is well-cast as Burt's dotty, energetic mother (essentially the same character she played in "Barefoot in the Park"). Bogdanovich approaches the material with a giddy sense of fun, but the results are like an inside-joke: the audience comes in after the punchline. *1/2 from ****

To make up for the sound trashing this film has received in many quarters since its release, some cult fans go to the opposite extreme. This is neither a neglected gem nor a piece of crap, but an interesting experiment. Using actors who aren't singers must have been a conscious choice (although we can't help wondering what Cybill Shepard thinks of a strategy that nearly finished her career) in the manner of Woody Allen's "Everyone Says I Love You" (but Allen's film DOES achieve true glories, such as Hawn's dance along the Seine, that Bogdanovich does not). Most worthwhile element: extensive use of alternate Cole Porter lyrics that one rarely hears. It's greatest sin upon its release was probably in being itself: an off-kilter experiment with "tradition" during a time that didn't care for musicals much in the first place. I'm becoming increasingly interested in 70s musical "disasters" b/c they're worth seeing.

Bogdonovich & company made this with endless tongue in cheek, and as an homage to the stage musicals of the 20s and stage AND film musicals of the 30s - glib, off-handed, seemingly "UN-artful" if you will. Also, the actors all sang - or spoke - their songs IN REAL TIME, in what was a brave attempt to duplicate the reality and presence of a live production.

Obviously, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I clearly saw this film much more in the spirit on Bogdonovich's vision than those who wemt in looking for something else. I feel a lot of baggage was brought to this film by the audience, and the movie was never really "seem" or "heard" by them. Too bad, because technically this is how musicals SHOULD be made.

I enjoyed the movie very much, and lament that it isn't available to allow everyone to make up their own mind about how well the vision of the director, cast, Musical Director and all concerned was carried out.