Les étoiles chantent

Recently, I had the opportunity to watch THE STARS ARE SINGING on Netflix streaming. It was not one of those films I actively sought out to watch, but since I like musicals from the 1950s, I decided to give it a try. Although I found the plot to be more than a bit contrived, and let's face it—what musical comedy plot is not contrived?—Rosemary Clooney is in splendid form here, and the time spent viewing the picture was worth it. Apparently, it was her first role at Paramount, and it's interesting to see her at this stage of her career. Clooney's costar in this venture is Anna Maria Alberghetti, and while the two ladies have very different singing styles, their professionalism is top-notch, and they work together nicely. Opera tenor Lauritz Melchoir, in his final film, is an added bonus.

I have but two impressions from this film: I saw it with my mother, at a premier showing in Los Angeles. Rosie was there in front of the screen, skinny legs and all, and threw up her arms and shouted, "I've been waiting a year for this!" as the opening titles flashed her name into view.

Ana Maria Alberghetti's singing was beautiful, but the director made such a closeup of her face as she sang, I remember only that her lips were flattened into a funny shape, and the mechanics of her singing overwhelmed all else.

And that's the truth.

I saw this film in my early teens, I can not remember all the details of the film but I remember Anna Maria Alberghetti, Rosemary Clooney and Lauritz Melchior playing outstanding parts. At about the same time I saw Tonight We Sing with Jan Peerce and Ezio Pinza. These two films started me on the road to operatic record collecting and I await patiently for them to be issued on VHS or DVD.

Anna Maria Alberghetti from Poland jumps off a ship and swims to Manhattan. Soon she is looking up her mother's old friend, down-and-out Laurtiz Melchior. He lives in the same business as aspiring show biz folks like Rosemary Clooney, Bob Williams and his dog, and dancer Tommy Morton. They decide to get a special bill through Congress granting Miss Alberghetti citizenship.

It's half fantasy and half musical numbers, with a script that doesn't do much besides get from one musical number to the next. Miss Clooney, in her movie debut, sings four solos, including "Come On-a My House"; Miss Alberghetti sings four, Melchior gets two solos, and there are three numbers with various cast members.

Miss Clooney hated "Come On-a My House" which she sings here for its co-writer, Ross Bagdassarian and turns down a chance at a record. She thought it was "a bunch of Armenian nonsense," and that's her on-screen reaction here.

A horrible product of that horrible decade, this oppressively wholesome movie stars a seventeen-year-old playing a fifteen-year-old dressed as someone half her age and addressed as "little girl" (a decade earier, Linda Darnell, at sixteen, was making love on screen with Tyrone Power.) Rosemary Clooney, a Doris Day clone, sings her big hit, the slinky "Come on a My House," but is otherwise routine. Nothing to suggest the very dark side that led her to marry Jose Ferrer, especially as she is always wearing outfits that make her look like the leader of a girl-scout troop.

Two youngish actors playing Rosie's friends were, fortunately, never heard from again, particularly the one who acts as if he is on speed while acting in a children's TV show. He has THREE scenes with his dog which are supposed to be funny because he keeps commanding the dog, who does nothing. This is just as funny as when someone you know does it.

Then there is another guy who loves Rosie but tells her that she is not normal because she wants to be a singer rather than marry him and have lots of kids. At the end they are together, so good luck with that, Rosie.