Le joyeux bandit

This is an excellent film for all the reasons cited in other reviews. However, it is interesting to note that the film could also be interpreted as a social critique of what might be seen as materialism or American values. By so exaggerating all the characters to the point of absurdity, Mamoulian creates a space where this sort of critique can "pass" as zany humor. Yet notice that the Mexican "bandidos" are the only honorable people in the whole film; they live by a code of honor whereas neither the American gangsters NOR the American lawmen could care less what is right and wrong. Also, the American tycoon's son who gets kidnapped is a despicable human being and a spoiled brat - he assumes his daddy's money can buy him out of any trouble and cannot conceive that some things have no price. Finally, the bandidos defend not only the concept of honor and giving one's word, but they also celebrate the inherent value and beauty of art (music). In short, this reviewer believes there is a lot more to this movie than might first be apparent.

In a rather bizarre opening scene, a room full of Mexicans are at the theater watching a gangster film. It's odd because all the men have huge sombreros (hats) on--making it practically impossible for anyone to see the film. Suddenly, a fight breaks out and Leo Carrillo's gang takes on the rest of the audience. In a panic, the theater owner has Chivo (Nino Martini) take the stage and begin singing, as he has an amazingly beautiful tenor voice. The fight stops almost immediately, as everyone (especially Carrillo) is in love with the voice. I usually hate this sort of singing, but I also was amazed--he was that good.

Afterwords, Carrillo announces that Chivo MUST join his gang--or else. Given little choice, Chivo agrees and the next thing you know, Carrillo and his gang take over a local radio station and force everyone to listen to Chivo's operatic stylings! As the gang makes a getaway (after all, the police are coming), the come upon two young people and kidnap them (one, by the way, is a young Ida Lupino, who plays Jane). Chivo is smitten with Jane and makes an amazingly awkward play for her--it's a scene you just have to see to believe.

In the meantime, Carrillo goes in search of an American bandit, Butch. Carrillo mistakenly thinks that American bandits are like the ones featured in gangster films and wants Butch to teach them how to act like these film crooks! So how does all this get resolved? Does Chivo get to leave the gang? What about Lupino and her now ex-boyfriend? And does the gang become more Americanized--with gang members who act more like Jimmy Cagney and Edward G. Robinson? Tune in yourself to this silly yet strangely enjoyable B-movie.

Pluses are Nino Martini's amazing voice, cute supporting characters and a light and silly atmosphere. Minuses are Nino Martini's almost constant singing--a little went a very long way. In addition, the script is basically fluff. Enjoyable fluff, but still fluff.

While watching this delightful farce, I was surprised to notice that Leo ("Braganza") Carillo's leather cuffs are each decoratively studded with a large swastika. This is, of course, a ubiquitous ancient sacred symbol which had only positive connotations before the Nazis appropriated it, but by the time this movie was made, it certainly had political implications. Was costume designer Omar Kiam merely employing a local graphic motif, or was he slipping in a pro-fascist symbol in the same way that SubGenius sympathizers placed the face of J.R. "Bob" Dobbs almost unnoticeably in the background of David Letterman's and Pee Wee Herman's original stage sets?

If "Love Me Tonight" is "the musical for people who don't like musicals", it has to be said that "The Gay Desperado" is definitely not a musical for people who don't like opera. In fact -- despite apparently being based on a comic operetta -- it is not really a musical at all but a spoof bandit story with interpolated unrelated arias to show off the voice of one character; and what a voice it is.

Nino Martini, as the young singer Chivo who joins the bandit troop to get a spot on the radio (no, the plot doesn't make a lot more sense later on either...), has a glorious golden tenor whose style hasn't dated a day since the era when it was recorded. The trillings and warblings of some of his musical contemporaries belong to a bygone fashion, but it's very easy to picture Chivo belting out "Nessun Dorma" to a World Cup crowd and topping the charts in the process. Unfortunately, while he has an engaging grin and a decent dramatic range, he is completely incapable of acting and singing at the same time. The result is that the otherwise rapid-paced film grinds to a shuddering halt every time Chivo lays his hand on his breast and starts to declaim, and the viewer's tolerance of the result is likely to depend on his appreciation of operatic performance.

Aside from this drawback, the film is an enjoyable broad-brush satire on Hollywood conventions and the Mexican bandit stereotype in particular, which achieves the vital goal of all such spoofs in making its characters engaging enough in their own right to hold the viewer's interest when the joke would otherwise have grown stale. The bandit chief and his sidekick have the traditional double-act relationship, there is an enigmatic peon with a carved-teak face, and a spirited heroine (a young Ida Lupino) who performs the generic "you say you hate me but you love me really" routine with a refreshing twist.

Overall the film is entertaining and pretty funny, and I feel I did get my money's-worth -- but it can't be denied that the musical interludes, while admirable in their own way, introduce severe pacing problems.

The Gay Desperado came out during that short period when every studio had an opera star under contract giving the American movie going public a little culture more or less. The roles these people had were somewhat limited and the vogue passed painlessly enough with people like the star of this film Nino Martini going back to their first loves of the grand opera and the concert stage.

Jesse Lasky discovered Martini and used him on and off in films of varying quality, sometimes only as a guest artist. The Gay Desperado was his attempt to launch Martini as a full fledged star with a role as a singing radio entertainer captured by Mexican bandits. This also enabled Martini to use his accent without it being too noticeable.

Like Harry Cohn at Columbia with Grace Moore, Lasky and his producing partner Mary Pickford gave him full support and his biggest support was hiring Rouben Mamoulian as director. Mamoulian who was successful on the stage as well as film was able to tone down the overacting necessary for an opera singer and make it acceptable for film.

The Gay Desperado also has one gay and witty script involving some Mexican bandits who fall somewhere between the evil Goldhat of The Treasure Of The Sierra Madre and the noble Cisco Kid. Leo Carrillo after listening to American radio reporting and films glamorizing American gangsters thinks its time his group got up to date in their methods.

One night because Carrillo is a music lover he raids the local radio station and captures Martini who is giving a radio concert. Later on to get up to date Carrillo and his gang go in for kidnapping which was big in the Thirties starting tragically with the Lindbergh baby. Heiress Ida Lupino and the boy she was running away with to Mexico, James Blakely. A few cadenzas out of Martini and Ida forgets all about this rather arrogant young fathead she was running away with.

An American gangster and his mob, Stanley Fields horn in on the kidnapping and soon after American detective Paul Hurst is hot on everybody's trail. Pretty soon Leo is thinking that the American gangster style isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Nino Martini's career in film lasted pretty much as long as his fellow opera singers though this film garnered deservedly good critical reviews and public reception. He introduced the song The World Is Mine Tonight which later was revived by Mario Lanza. Probably without that accent he might have tried some of the familiar operettas that were being done at the time and be better known by audiences today.

The Gay Desperado with its good spirit of satirical fun still holds up well for today's audiences. Pity it's not shown more often.