Showing posts with label
The Films of Vincente Minnelli.
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Showing posts with label
The Films of Vincente Minnelli.
Show all posts

Though he would direct a handful of fine dramatic films (The Bad and the Beautiful, Lust for Life), Vincente Minnelli will always be remembered for his outstanding musicals, two of which – An American in Paris and Gigi – won Best Picture their respective years at the Academy Awards.
His 1953 film The Band Wagon didn’t garner similar accolades; it received three Oscar nominations - for writing, costumes, and music - winning none. But don’t let that throw you. In fact, it may be the most entertaining of the bunch!
In an effort to revive his sagging career, singer / dancer Tony Newton (Fred Astaire) agrees to star in a brand-new stage production penned by his longtime pals, the husband / wife duo Lester (Oscar Levant) and Lily Martin (Nanette Fabray). All three are excited to be working with Broadway sensation Jeffrey Cordova (Jack Buchanan), who has agreed to direct.
Unfortunately, Cordova has reinterpreted their lighthearted comedy / romance as a musical rendition of the Faust legend, and what’s more has convinced Gabrielle Gerard (Cyd Charisse), the world’s foremost ballet dancer, to play the leading lady!
With production costs skyrocketing and the rehearsals running non-stop for days at a time, Tony begins to wonder if this show - titled The Band Wagon - is going to rejuvenate his career or kill it once and for all.
A breezy, fun musical romp, The Band Wagon features some outstanding musical numbers, including “Shine on your Shoes”, in which Astaire and Leroy Daniels, playing a shoeshine man, dance around a carnival-like attraction on New York’s 42nd street; and the now-famous “That’s Entertainment”, which pops up on a number of occasions (including the finale). And while it’s a bit silly, I really enjoyed “Triplets”, which had Astaire, Nanette Fabray and Jack Buchanan singing a goofy ditty while dressed as infants.
Despite being in his 50s while making this film, Astaire seems as spry and bouncy as ever, and proved the perfect leading man, while Charisse shows off her incredible dancing skills throughout, especially during the very imaginative “Girl Hunt Ballet” sequence, a satire of the hard-boiled Mickey Spillane detective stories that appears towards the end of the movie.
Similar in both theme and entertainment value to the “Let’s put on a show” musicals Busby Berkeley was turning out a few decades earlier (42nd Street, Gold Diggers of 1933), Minnelli’s The Band Wagon is a unique, supremely entertaining, and wholly satisfying motion picture experience.
Rating: 9 out of 10

Vincent Van Gogh, the Dutch artist whose paintings were revered only after his death, once said “I put my heart and my soul into my work, and have lost my mind in the process”.
Vincente Minnelli’s 1956 film Lust for Life has taken these words to heart. A gorgeous motion picture (shot on-location in many of the towns and provinces in which the real Van Gogh resided), Lust for Life tells the story of a man who poured his very being into his creations, only to see his mind turn on him in the end.
Having failed as a Christian minister, Vincent Van Gogh (Kirk Douglas) falls back on his true love: art. With the financial support of his devoted brother Theo (James Donald), Vincent creates hundreds of sketches and paintings over the course of a decade, primarily in the South of France, where he lives for a while with good friend and fellow artist Paul Gauguin (Anthony Quinn).
Alas, Vincent’s mental state has always been fragile at best. After spending time in an institution under the care of Dr. Gachet (Everett Sloane), Vincent feels he is ready to once again set out on his own. But has he truly conquered the illness, or will his demons win out in in the end?
Douglas delivers a career-defining performance as Van Gogh, portraying a tormented soul who is governed by his emotions. The early scenes in which he becomes the spiritual leader of a small mining community are contrasted by his romantic obsession with his cousin, the recently widowed Kay (Jeanette Sterke), who ultimately rejects his aggressive advances.
In these sequences and others (especially those detailing Van Gogh’s tumultuous friendship with Gauguin, played with gusto by Quinn, who would win an Academy Award for his performance), Douglas generates empathy for a man whose motivations remain a mystery. We connect with his Van Gogh on an emotional level while, at the same time, aligning ourselves with his brother Theo, whose only wish is that Vincent find happiness. We want that for Vincent Van Gogh as well, even when it becomes obvious that peace and tranquility are beyond his grasp.
Vincent Van Gogh has been the subject of several films in recent years, from Robert Altman’s oft-overlooked Vincent and Theo to 2018’s At Eternity’s Gate, in which Willem Dafoe played the tortured artist. There was even an extraordinary animated feature – 2017’s Loving Vincent - that adapted the style of a Van Gogh painting as it related the sad tale of the artist’s life and death.
Yet as good as these films are, Lust for Life, thanks to the amazing performance of its star, stands as the quintessential Van Gogh film.
Rating: 9.5 out of 10
Directed By: Vincente Minnelli
Starring: Lana Turner, Kirk Douglas, Walter Pidgeon
Tag line: "The story of a blonde who wanted to go places, and a brute who got her there - the hard way!"
Trivia: All of the scenes set at Jonathan Shields' studio were shot on the MGM lot, using the studio's actual facilities
Directed by Vincente Minnelli, 1952’s The Bad and the Beautiful takes us inside the Hollywood machine, stripping away the glitz and excitement to reveal it is, after all, a business. Writers, actors, directors and producers walk a fine line between art and finance, and it's the money that occasionally has one artist stabbing another in the back.
Three of the most coveted celebrities in Hollywood: director Fred Amiel (Barry Sullivan), actress Georgia Lorrison (Lana Turner), and writer James Lee Bartlow (Dick Powell), have one thing in common. They all despise producer Jonathan Shields (Kirk Douglas).
Once, not long ago, Shields Productions was a cinematic powerhouse, winning Oscars and turning out movies that made a boatload of money. Having fallen on hard times, Shields has his head of production (and former boss), Harry Pebbel (Walter Pidgeon) contact Amiel, Lorrison, and Bartlow in the hopes they’ll sign on to make his next picture.
But all three have been burned by Jonathan Shields in the past, and during their visit to Pebbel’s office they recount their experiences with the man, explaining why they can never work for him again.
As film producer and all-around heel Jonathan Shields, Kirk Douglas delivers what I consider to be one of his finest performances, playing the character as both a perfectionist who always gets what he wants and a double-crossing worm who would sell out his own mother if she stood in his way. At times, Shields is a true visionary. Years earlier, when Harry Pebble assigned him and Fred Amiel (both of whom were just starting out) to the B-picture The Doom of the Cat Men, it was Jonathan who decided to scrap the lousy cat-man costumes and instead keep their creatures hidden in the shadows. As Jonathan put it, the dark frightens an audience more than anything else (an idea borrowed from Val Lewton, who did this very thing with 1942’s Cat People).
The Doom of the Cat Men was a huge success, and Jonathan used his new leverage to pitch an idea put forward by Fred, who had figured out a way to adapt the best-selling novel “The Faraway Mountain”. Sure, three other studios tried to tackle it and failed, but Fred’s outline was so airtight that it couldn’t miss. Sensing a chance to produce his first important picture, Jonathan pushed hard to get The Faraway Mountain off the ground, and it was eventually green-lit
This was also when Shields started to show his true colors; not only did Jonathan lock Fred out as director, hiring instead the seasoned pro, Von Ellstien (Ivan Triesault), but he took full credit for the screenplay, a move that ended his partnership, as well as his friendship with Fred Amiel.
Georgia Lorrison and James Lee Bartlow have similar stories to tell about their experiences with Jonathan (both of which are even more heartbreaking than Amiel’s). Though he didn’t realize it at the time, Jonathan Shields set himself up for failure when he ruined his relationship with the three of them, alienating talented people he knew would one day rise to the top of their professions. So, when he needed them most, he had to grovel and beg. It was a situation he himself created, and it cost him his dignity.
The Bad and the Beautiful exposes the ugly underbelly of the motion picture industry, but does it go far enough? If history and the tabloids have taught us anything, it’s that Hollywood is a den of sin, where young stars and starlets fall victim to sex-hungry producers; rampant alcoholism and drug addiction cuts many promising careers short; and shattered dreams lead some young hopefuls to eventually take their own lives. Because the film was made in 1952, these vices are predictably absent (the flashback dealing with Georgia Lorrison briefly touches on a few of the above, yet doesn’t explore them in any great detail).
What The Bad and the Beautiful does do, however, is remind us that movies are a million-dollar business, and that script meetings, screen tests, and budget proposals matter just as much as what ends up in front of the camera. It may not vilify Tinsletown entirely, but Minnelli’s film manages to expose the truth behind the glamour, and for a movie produced within the Hollywood system, that’s no small feat.
Directed By: Vincente Minnelli
Starring: Judy Garland, Margaret O'Brien, Mary Astor
Tag line: "A cast of favorites in the Charming . . . Romantic . . . Tuneful Love Story of the Early 1900s !"
Trivia: The book on which this film is based originally ran as a weekly feature in New Yorker Magazine in 1942
The Wizard of Oz is a beloved movie classic that has stirred the imaginations of countless millions over the years. That said, I do not consider it the best film to feature Judy Garland (who played Dorothy in Wizard). For me, her finest hour (make that hour and 53 minutes) was 1944’s Meet Me in St. Louis. Set at the turn of the 20th century, Meet Me in St. Louis saw Garland play a vivacious young girl on the verge of becoming a woman.
And she was marvelous in the part.
The year 1903 would prove to be a pivotal one in the lives of St. Louis’ Smith family. Rose (Lucille Bremer), the eldest daughter of Mr. Alonzo Smith (Leon Ames) and his wife Anna (Mary Astor), is expecting a marriage proposal any day now from boyfriend Warren Sheffield (Robert Sully), even though he is working hundreds of miles away, in New York City. The next-eldest Smith daughter, Esther (Garland), also experiences her first romance, having fallen in love with the boy next door, John Truett (Tom Drake).
We follow the exploits of the Smith clan over the course of several months, from the warmth of summer to Halloween night - when youngest child Tootie (Margaret O’Brien) gets into all sorts of mischief - and straight through to Christmas.
Their lives take an unexpected turn, however, when Mr. Smith announces he has accepted a position in New York City, and the entire family will be moving soon after the first of the year. Naturally, the Smith ladies are less than enthusiastic, especially since they were all looking forward to the World’s Fair, which is set to open in St. Louis in the Spring of 1904.
Are the Smiths really heading east, or will fate intervene?
With all due respect to The Wizard of Oz's "Over the Rainbow", I think Judy Garland’s rendition of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas", which she sings at a key moment in Meet Me in St. Louis, is her finest on-screen musical performance. This is followed closely by another number from this film, "The Trolley Song", where her Esther, upset that new beau Joh Pruett has seemingly missed the trolley, gets over her disappointment by belting out this lively tune.
In addition to the music (which also includes the title song, performed at different intervals throughout the movie), Meet Me in St. Louis is a beautifully shot motion picture, with lush period costumes and gorgeous set pieces that perfectly capture the time and setting of its story, as well as the innocence and charm of turn-of-the-century America.
A movie musical of the highest order, Meet Me in St. Louis is a shining example of what Hollywood was capable of during its Golden age: taking a simple story and a few catchy tunes and spinning them into cinematic gold.
Directed By: Vincente Minnelli
Starring: Gene Kelly, Leslie Caron, Oscar Levant
Tag line: "What a joy! It's M-G-M's Technicolor musical!"
Trivia: No words are spoken during the last 20 minutes and 25 seconds of the film
Typically, the best scenes in a Hollywood musical feature lots of singing and dancing. 1951’s An American in Paris is an exception to this rule. The film certainly has its share of extraordinary musical numbers, but it’s the performance of star Gene Kelly that drives the movie, and holds our undivided attention even when the music dies down.
American Jerry Mulligan (Kelly), an ex-GI, stayed in Paris after the war ended, to pursue his passion for painting. Alas, neither Jerry nor his good friend Adam Cook (Oscar Levant), a concert pianist and Jerry's next door neighbor, have been able to carve out a living for themselves, and must beg and borrow to survive.
Jerry’s luck improves when he meets Milo Roberts (Nina Foch), a wealthy American who takes a liking to both Jerry and his art. She promises to feature him in an upcoming exhibition, which could put Jerry on the fast track to fame.
The situation becomes a bit more complicated, however, when Jerry falls in love with pretty French girl Lise Bouvier (Leslie Caron), not realizing she is already engaged to his friend, singer Henri Baurel (Georges Guetry)!
An American in Paris owes its success to a number of factors. First and foremost is the music of George and Ira Gershwin, which perfectly complements both the story and its Parisian setting. Then there's the cast. Looking very young (she was 19 at the time), Leslie Caron is positively charming as Lise, an innocent girl trapped in a difficult situation, and Oscar Levant as the oft-depressed best friend / concert pianist has his share of funny moments.
What propels An America in Paris to the lofty heights of a classic, however, is the work of Gene Kelly, who belts out a number of fantastic Gershwin songs, including “I Got Rhythm” (accompanied by a group of French kids) and the incredibly upbeat “S’ Wonderful”, performed as a duet with Georges Guetry. Aside from being the film’s star, Kelly was also responsible for the choreography, which is on full display in the grand finale, an extended dream sequence that guides us on a magical tour through the streets - and even the history - of Paris.
The fact that Kelly tackled the musical routines with such gusto is no surprise, yet what truly impressed me was his overall portrayal of Jerry, who is just as charismatic in the film’s quieter moments as when the music swells. A vagabond traipsing through life with a smile on his face, Jerry is one of those guys you can’t help but like, and it's no gtreat surprise when Lise abruptly has a change of heart, finding him annoying one minute and irresistible the next. To know Jerry is to love him, and it’s the energy Kelly brings to the role that makes the character so damn endearing. Gene Kelly was, without question, one of Hollywood’s best song and dance men, but in An American in Paris he proved he was just as terrific an actor.
Winner of the Academy Award for Best Picture, An American in Paris is a spirited musical, a touching love story, and, ultimately, a showcase for its star, who pulls out all the stops to make it one of the most entertaining films of the 1950’s.