La veuve joyeuse

No need to add to the many reviews finding this a delightful, well made film. It is every bit that. Yet, this film violates one of the principles of truth in filming. It is NOT the Lehar Merry Widow. At best it is a distant cousin. To be sure, the film uses some of the music, albeit in odd places. and uses the names of some of the characters.

One of the plot elements of both the Lehar and the Lubitsch is the need for the tiny country to have the widow marry to keep her millions in the country's bank. The male lead is Danilo in both but in Lehar he is a playboy count. Here he is a bold captain. In Lehar, the leads were lovers in the past. Here they are newly met. And so it goes.

From the standpoint of faithfulness to the Lehar work, a work which still enraptures, this film is a travesty. Yet, it is a delightful travesty. Too bad they did not give it a different name.

The Monarch of Marshovia sends a romantic count to Paris to woo back THE MERRY WIDOW whose vast wealth is vital to running the tiny kingdom.

Nine years after producing a non-talking film based on the Franz Lehár operetta, MGM mined the same material again, this time as a musical comedy. The Studio would give the film its trademark opulent treatment, with production values of the highest order. Celebrated lyricist Lorenz Hart was engaged to write words for the music. And, to make absolutely certain of success, director Ernst Lubitsch and stars Maurice Chevalier & Jeanette MacDonald were reunited to duplicate their previous triumphs at Paramount Studios.

If, ultimately, the film does not have quite the effervescence of Lubitsch's previous pictures, this is probably understandable. MGM, while wonderful with epics and dramas, often took an unnecessarily heavy-handed approach to subjects which should have been given a lighter, airier treatment. Also, the film was released a few months after the imposition of the Production Code, which obviously had a significant effect upon the movie's final persona.

Chevalier & MacDonald continue the on screen relationship already well established in their earlier films: she, the rather aloof and powerful female who needs a good man; he, the social inferior who wins her with his enormous Gallic charm. Their singing is vivacious & charming and sometimes you can almost understand her words.

Unlike the 1925 version of THE MERRY WIDOW, there is no villain here to provide dramatic tension. The costars, however, provide much comic amusement. Foremost among them is waspish Edward Everett Horton, very funny as Marshovia's nervous Ambassador in Paris. Rotund George Barbier & sprightly Una Merkel make the most of their small roles as the diminutive nation's conniving King and flirtatious Queen.

Some of the smaller roles are also humorously cast: Sterling Holloway as Chevalier's loyal orderly; Donald Meek as the King's gossipy valet; and Herman Bing as Horton's dramatic factotum.

Movie mavens will recognize Akim Tamiroff as the head waiter at Maxim's & Arthur Housman as a drunk (what else?) trying to gain entry into that establishment, both uncredited.

Ernst Lubitsch directed some of the sweetest and funniest sex comedies of the 1930s and 1940s. He was fortunate enough to do three films with Maurice Chevalier and Jeannette MacDonald. They are all charming, but the last one may be the best. Here he took the best known operetta of Franz Lehar and turned it into a superb musical comedy, with new lyrics to tunes like "Maximes", "the Merry Widow Waltz", and "Girls, girls, girls, girls, girls" by Lorenz Hart. At the same time he maintained his marvelous sense of fun - something that may be very much missing from Eric Von Stroheim's earlier, silent film version (that became a study in Balkan politics).

THE MERRY WIDOW was composed in 1905, shortly after a major scandal involving the nation of Montenegro. This land still exists, and (with Serbia) retains the now useless joint name of Yugoslavia - the Balkan state that once faced Italy and combined eight countries. Montenegro was a kingdom in 1905, and it's ruler had a Crown Prince named Danilo, who created major scandal by his doings in Paris. Lehar, a Viennese composer (and so, one who usually made fun of the Slavic states) took the story and the name of the Crown Prince, retaining the setting in the embassy in Paris. In Lehar's operetta, the homeland of Pontrevekkio (note how it sounds like Montenegro) is on the verge of bankruptcy, unless the richest widow in the country (Sonia) marries a citizen of the state. She is being pursued by eligible Frenchmen in Paris, so the Pontrevekkian embassy decides to have Count Danillo, a member of the staff there, romance and marry her. The complications that ensue are amusing. Lehar's music is not as waltz oriented on the whole as Johann Strauss II, except for the famous "Merry Widow" number. Most of the tunes have more of a Parisian flair, and one ("Vilia") has a lovely haunting effect. It remains his most popular operetta, although he was to do "THE COUNT OF LUXEMBURG" and "THE LAND OF SMILES" as well.

Montenegro did complain (like the Japanese complained about Gilbert and Sullivan's THE MIKADO). The major change in the book nowadays is the name is usually not Pontrevekkio, but Marshovia. When Von Stroheim did his silent version, he concentrated on the Balkan politics involving the Crown Prince, his "cousin" Prince Danillo, Sonia, her rich, insane husband, and the throne. The cast in that had been quite stunning for a 1925 movie, with John Gilbert as Danillo, Roy D'Arcy as the grinning, sadistic Crown Prince, Mae Marsh as Sonia, and Tully Marshall as the sexually mad Baron who weds Sonia (and suffers a stroke on their wedding night). Full of sexual ideas (Marshall has such a foot fetish that he dies having his nose in Marsh's pumps), the highpoint was the waltz, wherein Gilbert and Marsh realize their love to Lehar's strains (the music at that point of the silent version was always the Lehar "Merry Widow" Waltz). It remains a masterpiece of silent cinema (and another proof of Von Stroheim's peculiar genius), but it is not a light hearted as the operetta it was based on.

Lubitsch is different. He has fun showing what little Marshovia is like, with sheep and goats appearing all over the streets and in the public buildings. The King (George Barbier) is aware that his wife (Una Merkle) is less than satisfied with him, and has a famous "freudian" moment when he returns without warning to get his ceremonial sword, grabs one, and finds he can't get the belt around his girth. He returns to his antechamber, and confronts Lt. Danillo with his wife. King Achmet is upset, but his solution - he'll cover up the scandal but sends Danillo to Paris.

There are many good moments: Danillo's trial for treason is one. So is Ambassador Popoff (Edward Everett Horton) having his aide (Herman Bing) translate a coded message from King Achmet, which basically calls him a blockhead. And, yes, the film chemistry between Maurice and Jeannette is retained, as in their three other movies. But they could not have made more films together. Nolan disliked Chevalier - he had a habit of pinching her. Chevalier thought she was a hypocrite, because (at the time) she was having an affair with Gene Raymond (whom she eventually married). When she was teamed with Nelson Eddy, she and Eddy happened to be quite close friends, which is why their total film output together is eight films.

I notice that Clark Gable had some kind of cameo appearance here (it is not in the billing). Two years later he and Jeanette would appear together in SAN FRANCISCO.

This film is nothing short of glorious. Before films decided they had to be realistic they had style, and Lubitsch was the style king. Everything about this film is sumptuous and beautiful, and the Oscar winning art direction of Cedric Gibbons and Fredric Hope is truly magnificent. Not bad either are the gowns of Adrian.

MacDonald and Chevalier are excellent together, there is great support from Edward Everett Horton - and who will ever forget the magic scenes between Chevalier and the king and the queen - irresitably played by Una Merkel and George Barbier. The script is witty and a little naughty ("I know what to do with her but I'm too old"), the cinematography breath-taking and the music gorgeous.

But the star of the show is Lubitsch - the mass waltz scene is magnificent, the depiction of MacDonald's mourning clothes (all black - even the dog!) and their transformation into white is astonishing and, just when you think the plot is running out of steam, he gives us an hilarious ending that is unforgettable.

If you ever get a chance to see this on the big screen, run don't walk to the cinema. A perfect 10.

This is why Hollywood use the expression "The Lubitsch Touch". Almost every film made by that most delightful of directors was sprightly and hilarious and sexy, and this is one of his most delightful. It's the best version filmed.

Maurice Chevalier is of course just as attractive as a man can be, and Jeanette MacDonald is wonderfully funny and sexy (why oh why did she ever team up with Nelson "The Singing Capon" Eddy? With Chevalier she was enchanting, with Eddy you wanted to slap her), and the supporting cast is delightful. Wonderful script, wonderful score, fabulous thirties-period costumes, all in all a delight.