Toujours dans mon coeur

I watched this on cable TV, and was delighted with the characters and their bonds of love. The love and understanding of "Munch" for "Mac" made it an uplifting story of how love transcends the years and rough times. I thoroughly enjoyed the contrast of Borrah Minevitch and His Harmonica Rascals with the otherwise serious elements of the movie. It reminded me of the contrast between John Denver and Placido Domingo singing "Perhaps Love", two beautifully competent musicians of different genres and cultures coming together to make beautiful music! It made the movie interesting, and I enjoyed the humor and music of Borrah and those harmonicas! If I could find it, I'd purchase the DVD for myself and one for my mother, who also loved it!

This movie is enjoyable except for the singing. I don't understand what people were thinking in the forties. How anyone could find the high pitched screeching enjoyable is beyond me. TMC seems to play the screechers early in the morning. I think it may be a fiendish plot of some kind. A strange mix of humor, tragedy, opera and cornball situations. But like I said, it is enjoyable. Just block out the screeching. Keep your thumb at the ready by the mute button. By the way, there must be a hundred harmonica players in this film. The harmonicas/screeching is a bizarre mix. In the middle of it all, there is some decent acting. The little girl, I am not sure of the familial connection, is a real cutie.

Several reviews have been posted for this film which deride the movie's music. Don't buy into them! Gloria Warren's voice (despite the fact that she only made 5 films), is every bit the equal of Kathryn Grayson, Deanna Durbin and Jeanette McDonald. Also, the performances of the harmonica "orchestra" are nothing short of amazing. Coupled with the performances of Walter Huston and Kay Francis, this is decidedly an endearing film.

Walter Huston and Kay Francis starred in this 1942 film.

Ms. Francis plays a middle class woman with 2 children, who supposedly is widowed. Wealthy Sidney Blackmer wishes to marry her.

It turns out that she is not widowed. She divorced her husband after he was sent to prison for killing a man. Both children have been told that their father is dead.

As Huston is about to be pardoned, Francis arrives at the prison to tell him that she is remarrying. Thinking only of her happiness and security for their children, Huston does not tell Francis of the pardon but instead encourages the marriage.

Huston, upon release, settles in a fishing area around San Francisco. Of course, he meets his children but says nothing.

Naturally, the children find out what they are and the film ends where he saves his son from a drunk and daughter, when she goes out in a storm in a boat.

There are some musical interludes in this as the daughter is training to be an opera singer. Huston does a little singing and there are several sequences where groups of fishermen turn to their harmonicas.

Despite the Warners fanfare and Warners leading lady Kay Francis, it has influences of other studios. There's the multi-ethnic-music-making a la MGM; the also Metro-like mixing of highbrow and lowbrow music; the attempt to launch Gloria Warren as the studio's answer to Universal's Deanna Durbin (she's not bad, but she's not Deanna); "funny" musicians led by Borah Minevitch, sort of like RKO's Kay Kyser, or Spike Jones; and a melodramatic premise that would embarrass anybody. The small-California-town ambiance, with everybody nice to everybody, and smiling mailmen and ice cream men and such, is so dated it seems to belong to another planet. The plot, with Kay Francis planning to marry rich but unlikable Sidney Blackmer, then finding out that her convict husband Walter Huston is still alive and paroled, is absolutely ridiculous. And yet, and yet. Huston, one of the three or four best actors American movies ever had, underplays everything so beautifully that you're hooked. Watch him watch his unsuspecting kids who don't know he's their dad, or singing the appealing title song in that high, heart-tugging voice of his to his daughter, I got teary. The director pitches the emotions too high and cuts too rapidly (at times it approaches MTV pacing), and the ethnic stereotypes are grating--lots of "ot'sa fine" Italians, and just guess which harmonica player in Minevitch's band swings it hot. Not a good movie, and yet, thanks to Huston, and, to a lesser extent, the ladylike Francis (who sure knew how to wear a hat), I couldn't stop watching.