French Line

The British publication "Radio Times" in a recent review said that Jane Russell was past her prime in this movie. Were they watching? She looks great, her singing is fantastic and she seems to really enjoy herself in this film.

In my book this is one of the best musicals of the 1950's, but it's strength is that it doesn't take itself too seriously. Irreverent and vulgar, the plot is a feminist's nightmare and Jane Russell's "talents" are exploited to the full. As the picture was released originally in 3D, the tagline was "Jane will knock BOTH your eyes out!"

One of the most censored movies in American history, the film was cut to shreds in many states. The final musical number "lookin' for trouble" is truly outrageous. But the overall spirit of the film is goodnatured and full of energy.

Watch this film again and again!

It is difficult getting past the terrible condition of the RKO Technicolor print for The French Line. It is even more difficult believing that nobody has wanted to do something about it. Someone: please clean it up, restore it, do whatever needs to be done.

Jane Russell is superb as a sassy southern belle on a cruise to Europe. Adding to the fun is character actor Arthur Hunnicutt and leading man Gilbert Roland. The musical numbers are indeed risqué but the lyrics and choreography are not to be missed. Neither is Miss Russell's costuming which one must see to believe.

Aside from a better print, the only way this film could have possibly been better: if Robert Mitchum had been in it.

I bought a copy of The French Line before I'd even seen so much as a trailer for it. I knew right away it was going to be a sentimental favorite, because of the Cameron Crowe flick Singles in 1992. Bridget Fonda isn't happy with her body, and when she watches an old musical on tv with the big-busted Jane Russell and Mary McCarty, she decides to get breast implants. It's a very funny scene, and I'd always wanted to watch the full version of the 10-second clip featured in Singles.

If you don't already have a heart attachment to this movie, you might think it's silly and that I need to get my head examined. However, since it's my review, and since I do have a heart attachment to it, I'm going to praise it. Jane Russell stars as a Texas gal who goes on an ocean liner to France. She's literally on "The French Line" and has to dodge playboys who give her "the French line"; get it? Gilbert Roland is the suave Frenchman who tries to win Jane's affection. Jane sings in very revealing clothes to show off her beautiful figure, and in one number she's even in the bathtub! But perhaps even better known than the "Any Gal from Texas" number is Jane's striptease-the dance was so risqué they had to film her standing behind a plant to get the number past the censors!

Before Howard Hughes managed to destroy his play toy, RKO Radio Pictures, with one production after another that fared rather dismally at the box office and, certainly, with the critics, his sexual preoccupations were on full view in "The French Line"

The Roman Catholic censorship body, the Legion of Decency, did a great deal more to boost receipts than the first-run 3-D presentations ever could when they "Condemned" this one, for all the usual sex-related reasons, since even then the depiction of excessive violence was given a pass. Once a year those of us who attended Sunday Mass regularly found ourselves trapped into taking the L. of D. Pledge (Very few dared remain seated, lemmetellya!), which required us to promise that we would not patronize theaters which made a practice of booking "Condemned" films. Since only foreign films, usually those originating in France, managed to get the "Condemned" accolade and they rarely made it beyond the few New York theaters willing to book them, the stricture about avoiding those lascivious pleasure palaces that dared book a "Condemned" film was interpreted to mean that just one disgraceful example of cinematic lechery could get them placed on the list of verboten venues.

When the Picwood Theater in West Los Angeles (which had a massive auditorium with a huge screen), not far from where we lived in Pacific Palisades at the time, was selected to show "The French Line" in 3-D, I was darned if I was going to have to wait until a neighborhood theater showed M-G-M's "The Swan", Grace Kelly's Hollywood curtain call, on a much smaller screen than when it was booked onto the Picwood's CinemaScope eye-stretcher, only a couple of years after management had dared book Jane Russell's eye-popping embarrassment. Eventually I managed to see "The French Line" on television, by which time our standards of taste had slipped somewhat, and I was sure hard put to understand what that big stink had all been about.

I am so stunned by the hilarious vulgarity of THE FRENCH LINE it is all I can rave about. Stacked to the hilt with personally supervised costumes and showgirl extras by bra master Howard Hughes, notorious for making glamorous RKO into a burlesque production line, the casting couch there must have needed new springs by the time this technicolour-3D extravaganza hit screens Nationwide in 1954. Seemingly made for the knee slapping amusement of rich Texan hicks and crafted by trapped RKO professionals who must have sighed at having to work on such hillbilly antics, THE FRENCH LINE is an oceangoing girlie show wrought into some semblance of a farce. Jane Russell is as usual her spunky insolent self and gets to showcase her famous torpedo talents in outfits leaving nothing not spangled. Her two main numbers near the end of the film are the ones that caused the outrage in '54 and today are probably the best drag queen numbers one could imagine. A masterpiece of tawdry tinsel, swim outfits and frocks. You'll titter all through THE FRENCH LINE, rather like Howard must have all through production. Hilarious! Republic must have realized RKO wanted the bumpkin musical films and realized Judy Canova was no Jane Russell.