1958 – Sat In Your Lap

Gigi (1958)

Not With A Bang But With A Whimper

By all indications, Gigi should be a musical masterpiece, the last hurrah of Metro Goldwyn Mayer’s Freed Unit and yet, it took me several viewing attempts to actually sit through Gigi in its entirety, extracting as much appreciation as I can from what the film has to offer. While there are aspects of this musical vacation I enjoy, there is a synergy derived from one of the film’s songs which sums up this disappointing production, the ironically titled It’s A Bore.

So how did a major Hollywood movie about a girl being trained to become a prostitute get made in 1958? The film is full of gags about the French stereotype of impropriety however the film doesn’t outright state that Gilberte “Gigi” (Leslie Caron) is being trained to become a courtesan and a less in-tune viewer looking at the film from an anglo-centric perspective as opposed to a continental one may just think she is receiving lessons in etiquette. One of the film’s more successful elements is its (often dark) Ernst Lubitsch-style comedy from casual conversation on Laine d’Exelman’s (Eva Gabor) failed suicide attempts to Gigi’s mentally ill, off-screen mother’s out-of-tune singing. The other aspect of the film tying it to Lubitsch is the casting of the ever charming epitome of Frenchness, Lubitsch pre-code regular Maurice Chevalier. However, when it comes to the film’s two leads, Leslie Caron and Louis Jordan as Gigi’s eventual love interest Gaston Lachaille, I’m not seeing many sparks. They make for a decent pairing but I’m never left thinking these two were made for each other nor am I dying to see them end up together. This romance fails to create any real conflict in the story nor does Gaston’s boredom with everyday life or Gigi’s disdain for her training and the Parisian obsession with love. Gigi’s age is never stated however Caron was 26 at the time of filming yet she looks like a girl in her teens and like Ginger Rogers in The Major and The Minor, it is an impressive transition (in earlier films she looked older).

Ah Paris, the preferred setting of every romantic comedy made in the ’50s and ’60s. Gigi does deliver the goods with a slice of turn-of-the-century nostalgia (if only the characters knew they would have two world wars ahead of them, you cheese-eating surrender monkeys). However, this world is captured using Metrocolor which was never as visually eye-popping as Technicolor (nor was any colour process post-Technicolor). Compare Gigi with earlier Vincente Minnelli-directed musicals such as Meet Me In St Louis or An American In Paris and there is a clear downgrade in aesthetic beauty. Despite this (as well as some less than stellar rear projection during It’s a Bore number) Minnelli was one of the best directors when it came to the ability to compose shots (or mise-en-scène to use a pretentious French term) that look like paintings. Gigi does contain some stunning frames from Gaston’s silhouette at the fountain to any of the shots within the Grandmother’s apartment in which the bright red background beautifully contrasts Gigi’s blue dress. The real-world locations also give the picture a big boast from the Ice Palace skating rink (the former Palais des Glaces) to the interior of Gaston’s home which was filmed inside an actual museum (Musée Jacquemart-Andre).

The lush orchestrations of the MGM Studio Orchestra do deliver the goods however none of the songs has me rushing out to listen to the film’s soundtrack (while Thank Heaven For Little Girls doesn’t help matters with its unintentionally creepy lyrics). Gigi is an all singing but no dancing affair; there is no hoofer action and the cast sings while walking, riding or just sitting down (The Night They Invented Champagne being the only number with a brief stint of dancing). On top of that, Gigi also lacks any grand finale like the ballet in An American In Paris. Come the conclusion I was left with the reaction of “that’s it?”. What a legacy the MGM musicals left behind, it’s just a shame they went out not with a bang but with a whimper.

Teacher’s Pet (1958)

I’m Learnding!

***This Review Contains Spoilers***

Teacher’s Pet showcases that even by the late 1950s, Clark Gable still had a gift for comedy. His timing, facial gestures and body movements are all spot on (likewise the cartoon drawing of Gable in the opening credits is the spitting image of Gomez Adams). It’s clear by this stage in his life Hollywood had gotten the better of him and he wasn’t the sex symbol he once was but the animal magnetism is still there (despite what appears to have a missing tooth or a large gap between his teeth). Teacher’s Pet is one of the few worthwhile endeavors of Gable’s later days in which he plays working-class hero Jim Gannon; editor for a large city newspaper. Gannon is a man who never went to high school and has a dislike of colleges (says he can’t even stand the smell of chalk) and a distrust of intellectuals. Gannon believes the only way to be trained for the world of journalism is through practical, hands-on experience and not in the classroom.

In the late 1950s, the majority of American newspapers still employed old school journalists and editors. However, a new post-war idea sprang up to help professionalize the news industry (among other fields) by requiring would-be journalists to get a university diploma in order to get hired as a news reporter; a field which had been traditionally more working class. This conflict between these differing world views is at the heart of Teacher’s Pet in which Gannon pretends to be a newcomer to the profession in the journalism class of Dr. Erica Stone (Doris Day).

Stone is a representation of what we would now identify as the typical university-educated liberal with her butch haircut and concern for social issues (“Was it because he’s the member of a minority group, struggling to solve the complex problem of assimilation? Did society at large create the climate for this tragedy?). She doesn’t look highly upon Gannon’s breed of journalist, describing them as the “unpressed gentlemen of the press”, and a dying race. Teacher’s Pet certainly saw the writing on the wall, as today journalism is seen as a profession of the university-educated class. It appears the movie is going to take a corny best of both world’s view for its conclusion until Jim decides at the end that he can’t change his perspective.

Part of what makes Teacher’s Pet entertaining is Jim’s epic, what we would refer to in the early 21^st century as trolling in which Jim pretends to be a journalism newcomer to show Dr. Stone and her class to show “what a phony-baloney the whole thing is” (and yes this guy must have a lot of free time outside of work). He acts a pathetic nuisance to the class, only to then write an article to Dr. Stone’s amazement which includes the key ingredients of any news story; who, what, where, when and why?

The cast of Teacher’s Pet also includes Mamie Van Doran as a second rate Marilyn Monroe. She primarily starred in juvenile delinquency B movies in the late 1950s and even sings a number in Teacher’s Pet which reflects this. Likewise, the always memorable Charles Lane plays a member of Jim’s staff roll at the paper, portraying less of a sourpuss this time round. Many viewers appear to comment that Gable is too old to be a journalism prodigy, however, I believe his old age is central to the character; just like how Gannon represents a different age of journalism, Gable represents a different age of Hollywood to that of Doris Day. The first half of Teacher’s Pet moves along at a brisk pace, although I find the film’s second half doesn’t flow quite as good, particularly when it pulls the dreaded lair revealed cliché. It slows down proceedings, leaving Teacher’s Pet a good if not quite great comic outing, but a prophetic one at that.

Auntie Mame (1958)

Live! Live! Live!

It’s hard for me not to be complete enamoured by a movie and a character like Auntie Mame. Two and half hours of zany histrionics with a central character who is a free-thinking, non-conformist and constantly has a joyous, optimistic outlook on life; oh, and did I mention she is a total screwball. Few other fictional characters seem to lead such an exciting life that I as the viewer am actually is jealous off (“Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are just starving to death!”). If I ever amass a huge fortune then perhaps I can try to emulate the lifestyle of Mame. Ok even with a huge fortune that probably wouldn’t be possible in this mundane realm that is reality but I can at least try.

Auntie Mame is one of the most liberal movies to come out of the 1950’s. Mame’s carefree, flamboyant, free thinking and non-conformist lifestyle clashes with a decade which is thought of as being the most conformist of the 20^th century. It should come as no surprise this movie has a huge gay following as the title character is essentially a drag queen. At the beginning of the movie, we see Mame throwing a party full of bohemians, intellectuals and champagne socialists (“Karl Marx, is he one of the Marx Brothers?”), essentially the predecessors to the modern day hipster. During the first 50 minutes of Auntie Mame the liberals are the ones having fun while the stuffy, puritan conservative Mr Babbock is being driven mad by Mame’s antics and instance that her nephew be sent to a be sent to a progressive school over a conservative prep school, a school with ancient Greek principles, has no uniforms and as the movies implies, teaches sex education in a very odd manner.

However, Auntie Mame isn’t a total demonisation of conservatives. In the middle portion of the movie she does end up getting married to a southern gentleman and an oil tycoon of whom lives on a plantation and goes fox hunting, which does show you that love can overcome ideology. Likewise, when Mame returns to her apartment after the death of her husband, the next few incarnations of her constantly redesigned apartment as well as her outfits are not as camp, possibly suggesting her husband’s influence on her. Well at least until the second last incarnation of her apartment which is very avant-garde.

With the movie’s references to sex and homosexuality among other things, Auntie Mame falls into the category of “how did they get away with that?”. Yet as liberal as the movie is for its time (and in many respects still is), the liberal of today is the conservative of tomorrow. Some of Mame’s actions wouldn’t rub with the modern left such as her desire to settle down with a man and her motherly instincts.

The Kaleidoscope opening credits set the stage for a film which is a feast for the eyes and ears. They really put effort into these early widescreen era title sequences in one of many attempts for a film to compete against television. Likewise, Mame’s lavish apartment is a masterpiece of set design as it evolves throughout the movie, with each incarnation being as impressive as the last. The movie doesn’t lose its stage roots which each act ending with the dimming of the lights with the spotlight on Mame before completely going to dark.

I am a huge Rosalind Russell fan and I know it’s a cliché expression but it usage couldn’t be any more adept here: this is the role she was born to play! How is it possible of a human being to talk at such a voracious rate? I do wonder how long the script for Auntie Mame must have been. There are probably more words in this movie than the Encyclopedia Britannica. Whenever there is a moment free of any dialogue I have little think to myself, “Oh yes, silence, I forgot what that feels like”. When Roz’s motor mouth isn’t running, she’s pulling at my heartstrings; there are times when I wish I could just go into the screen and hug her. I can’t stress enough my love for the actress, the performance and the fictional character. Auntie Mame is an encapsulation of pure unmitigated joy. When I’m feeling down, I know what movie I’ll be turning to.