Kismet

Often overshadowed these days by the musical version which came a decade later, this film by William Dieterle has the distinction of being one of the best examples of a 1940s Technicolor film there is. And with colour, no one shone out from the screen more than Marlene Dietrich. Here she is as Jamilla, garlanded in gold and looking positively luminous - her appearance in this movie alone would justify watching it.

Ronald Colman, that debonair English actor, plays the role of the beggar, Hafiz (which would be memorably played by Howard Keel in the musical). He's a little starchy and looks prematurely middle-aged, but he was always a very good actor, and here is no exception. James Craig is colourless as the Caliph but Edward Arnold and Hugh Herbert add humour as the Grand Vizier and Feisal.

The strength of this 'Kismet' though it definitely how it looks. It is how the films of the golden era were at their peak, and this version doesn't get shown on TV anywhere near enough.

More Arabian Nights stuff, this time emanating from the studio where the lion roared: according to the Internet Movie Database, there are twenty (count 'em) films that go by the name of KISMET and, although the Vincente Minnelli-Howard Keel musical version is the best-known of the lot, this earlier straight adaptation starring Ronald Colman and Marlene Dietrich is perhaps the best-regarded. For the record, I do have the former on VHS but won't have time to catch it just now and, of all the rest, I'm mostly interested in the 1930 German version (there was another one made in Hollywood the same year) which, like the film under review, was directed by William Dieterle! Speaking of which, I don't quite understand the reasoning of Warner Brothers (who have inherited DVD distribution rights to the MGM film library) behind recently releasing the 1955 version on this format on its own (so to speak, since it actually forms part of a Musical Collection) rather than coupled with the earlier version.

Aged 53, Ronald Colman still cuts a strikingly handsome figure (even when dressed as a beggar) and his silvery hairline is amusingly obscured by the most unseemly of turbans for all but one scene in the film's latter stages. Equally splendid-looking is his 43-year old German co-star who, in the film's most celebrated sequence that was, ironically, later cut for TV screenings because of its 'erotic' content(!), has her legs painted in gold for a veiled dance number before the court of evil Grand Vizier Edward Arnold and Colman (who dubs himself the King of Beggars by day but moonlights as a sovereign of a far-away land). Given the maturing age of the two leads, it's no wonder that two younger actors were recruited in the persons of James Craig (as the Caliph of Bagdad who likes to go incognito through the streets of his kingdom as a gardener's son) and the late Joy Page (Colman's secreted daughter); she had made a memorable screen debut in CASABLANCA (1942) and died earlier this year aged 83.

The cast is rounded up by Florence Bates (as Colman's nagging in-law), Harry Davenport (as Craig's wily adviser) and Hugh Herbert (as one of Colman's would-be comic-relief sidekicks). As was to be expected from Hollywood's premier studio, no expense was spared in bringing this opulent costumer to the screen – including shooting in eye-filling Technicolor amidst impressively-constructed sets – and this effort was rewarded by garnering the film four Academy Award nominations in that year's ceremony…although, as had been the case (and would be again) with similar Oriental ventures, the nominees all went home empty-handed!

Had Harold Arlen and E.Y. Harburg written anything memorable from this version of Kismet, Robert Wright and Chet Forrest might not have ever adapted Alexander Borodin's music to make their acclaimed version of Kismet in the fifties. We should all be the poorer for that.

Music is the weak spot in this version of Kismet, the songs sung by Joy Page and Marlene Dietrich aren't anything memorable. But classical American actor Otis Skinner who created the role of Hajj on Broadway back in 1911 is replaced by probably the only man in Hollywood who could have made that Edwardian dialog palatable to modern ears. Of course that would be Ronald Colman, a man I could get joy listening to him recite Buffalo Phone Directory.

This was one of MGM's biggest productions in the Forties, they splurged for technicolor and if you're going to have Marlene Dietrich play the seductive princess go for the gold. Lots of delightful cries emerged from cinema audiences when those golden painted legs of Dietrich were shown. Even on television they're still quite a sight.

Unfortunately the sound version of Kismet that Otis Skinner made in 1930 for Warner Brothers appears to be a lost film so we can't compare his interpretation of the lead with Colman. But in watching Colman's performance it seemed to be his Francois Villon aged so that he now had a teenage daughter. Anyway, it works beautifully.

James Craig is the earnest young caliph who I kept expecting to sing A Stranger in Paradise and Edward Arnold is the villainous vizier. Mr. Arnold played him like the political boss of ancient Bagdad.

MGM also filmed the better known musical version of Kismet with Howard Keel, Ann Blyth, and Vic Damone putting their marvelous voices to that classical score. That version has the music no doubt, but this one has Colman and Dietrich, so take your choice and you can't go wrong with either.

William Dieterle directing, music by Harold Arlen (there's even a tiny bit of the Witch's Guard music at one point!), opulent sets and gorgeous costumes, Ronald Colman -- what more could anyone ask?

The film was very carefully crafted. Even the bit players -- especially Henry Davenport and Florence Bates -- were perfect. From the beginning, you are immersed in a magical world, an Iraq that died long ago, the Islam of Arabian Nights and Haroun el-Raschid, a romantic culture with its own philosophies and mysteries. Karsha foretelling the future with a sand reading, the muezzin and his apprentice singing the call to prayer, or the public bathing place that the rascals hide in, give the film a sense not only of unity and atmosphere but of meticulous attention to detail.

Dietrich's character was not Greek but Macedonian (like Alexander the Great, another blonde). I could have stood for more authenticity in her dance (especially after the Kraft girls who preceded her -- their Deva Dasi style dance *was* pretty authentic) and that gold paint was a little much. Still, the idea was that Jamilla was wild, and did unconventional things.

I do see where it could have been better. Craig in particular sounds jarringly "modern". But you forget that after a while. Modern films don't present this kind of idealism. We have to have everything brought down to sordid reality. A thing like this is good for you after too much "realism" gunk.

To be bothered by he fact that all the principals of this movies were Western is to miss the point. This is a document of a given time and place (Hollywood in 1944). Ronald Coleman was born to play the part of the poetic beggar prince. Who could be better to declaim the bits of Omar Khayam in the script. It's a little like his take on Francois Villon in "If I Were King". Marlene Dietrich is magnificent as a Macedonian princess in the Grand Vizier's harem. She does a beautiful and seductive dance. Edward Arnold supplies real menace as the heavy just as he did in "Meet John Doe". The whole premise of a movie like this is naive and unhistorical but the production was so ambitious and sumptuous that it transcends that shortcoming.