Enfin l'amour

I'm a bit perplexed regarding what to say about this movie. First off, I think I enjoyed it more when I saw it years ago than I did now. But I think that was mainly because of the choice of songs. Cole Porter wrote all sorts of songs, but the movie goes for the particularly witty and urbane choices, including a number I hadn't heard before.

The style of the movie has giddy improvisational style, as actors often seem to be chatting amongst themselves or making quiet asides. This is true not just in conversation, but in song as well, and it's clear the intention is to make the songs work as a continuation of the story and the characterization. It's an interesting approach that I found somewhat likable in conversation but not so much in songs, because it often completely trashes the melodies.

Unfortunately, Bogdonavich was apparently of the opinion that a musical requires very little musical talent. Reynolds is a decidedly poor singer. Shepards can at least carry a tune, but it's hard to imagine anyone casting her as the lead in a musical who wasn't dating her.

The supporting players do better. None of them are great singers either, but Eileen Brennan, John Hillerman, Madelein Kahn and that guy no one's ever heard of all understand how to sell a song. They would make great second bananas behind actors who were strong singers (or dancers, as was the case with Astaire or Kelly musicals), but instead they overshadow the leads, which is a little sad.

The story is simple, essentially a matter of flirting and coupling among the four. Then ending is unsatisfactory.

I've heard there are numerous edits of this movie floating around, and that some work better than others. I saw the version released on VHS, which is apparently neither the best nor the worst version out there. (I've heard the best version is on Netflix and DVD.)

This isn't as terrible as some people claim, and it has some nice touches throughout, but it comes across as a bit of a vanity project in which a director with no experience in musicals nor much sense of what makes them work decided to put his girlfriend in one.

When I saw it in'75 (I was 25 at the time) I walked out of the theater smiling, and sang Cole Porter tunes in my car all the way home. It was a preview, so it hadn't been panned yet and I had formed my own opinion. Eileen Brennan cracked me up in her wanton pursuit of John Hillerman. Cybill was just my age and a knockout and, no, she doesn't sing badly. I've never been a big fan of Burt, but I liked him more after the movie than before. Kahn was marvelous, Del Prete the weak link, because I couldn't understand his English. Don't expect it to be more than cotton candy, it's sweet without substance and doesn't pretend to be more. It was probably the first exposure I'd had to Cole Porter since Can-Can (1960 - I was 10 then) and I fell in love with his music again, and forever. It's not the Music Man or Top Hat or Flying Down to Rio, but just go along for the pleasant ride, enjoy the sets and costumes, and, especially, the words and music. If you want to trash it, go ahead, but I think that those who do need a glass of champagne(or two)and to just chill out. --- Carl

Writer-director Peter Bogdanovich attempts to resurrect the fast-talking, romantic-minded musicals of the past with "At Long Last Love", but he fails to infuse it with the proper talent. As a wealthy heiress in smart society circa 1935, dating an immigrant gambler but in love with a playboy, Cybill Shepherd doesn't quite invoke the spirit of Jean Arthur or Ginger Rogers. She's boxy and flippant, like a female impersonator, and she never connects with anyone else on-screen. Burt Reynolds fares a bit better by emulating Clark Gable--affable yet quizzical--though he has more rapport with Madeline Kahn as a Broadway chanteuse than with shallow Shepherd. We can see that, but why can't Bogdanovich? Because the picture is meant as a showcase for Shepherd's musical and comedic talents, however her dancing abilities are nil and she's pseudo-addlepated without being funny. The movie, scored with Cole Porter songs (which the actors sing live), doesn't soar, however Kahn manages to blossom regardless--and in unexpected ways (she's softer and more womanly than ever before). John Hillerman, as Reynolds' valet, and Eileen Brennan have a nice romantic subplot, and Mildred Natwick is well-cast as Burt's dotty, energetic mother (essentially the same character she played in "Barefoot in the Park"). Bogdanovich approaches the material with a giddy sense of fun, but the results are like an inside-joke: the audience comes in after the punchline. *1/2 from ****

Bogdonovich & company made this with endless tongue in cheek, and as an homage to the stage musicals of the 20s and stage AND film musicals of the 30s - glib, off-handed, seemingly "UN-artful" if you will. Also, the actors all sang - or spoke - their songs IN REAL TIME, in what was a brave attempt to duplicate the reality and presence of a live production.

Obviously, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I clearly saw this film much more in the spirit on Bogdonovich's vision than those who wemt in looking for something else. I feel a lot of baggage was brought to this film by the audience, and the movie was never really "seem" or "heard" by them. Too bad, because technically this is how musicals SHOULD be made.

I enjoyed the movie very much, and lament that it isn't available to allow everyone to make up their own mind about how well the vision of the director, cast, Musical Director and all concerned was carried out.

Peter Bogdanovitch is obviously in love stars and being among them - the starrier, the better.After a while, some of his films like this one seem to feel like "us" (the stars) vs "them", (the unanointed audience). He seems to have assembled a sure-fire formula for success - the glitziest supported by a Cole Porter score. The problem, of course, is that the singers can't sing or dance at all. What in the world was in the mind of the director. He was star-struck - that much is completely obvious - but it ended up that the stars were stuck. So was the audience.

Curtis Stotlar