THE KISSING BANDIT (MGM 1948) Warner Home Video

Not quite the certifiable fiasco as labeled by so many critics, the third and final teaming of Frank Sinatra with MGM's lyrical soprano, Kathryn Grayson in Laszlo Benedek’s The Kissing Bandit (1948) certainly proved to be the biggest misfire of Sinatra’s MGM career. Like Vincente Minnelli’s ambitiously mounted Gene Kelly musical, The Pirate (also released in ’48), The Kissing Bandit, at least in hindsight, became indicative of the artistic malaise slowly beginning to envelop L.B. Mayer’s magic kingdom. Throughout the 1940’s, Mayer had been contented merely to let the studio increasingly run itself; his installation of a producer-heavy system after Thalberg’s death in 1936, affectionately known around the back lot as his ‘college of cardinals’, while Mayer increasingly spent more time on Lot 7, a euphemism for his affinity for the race track, and his ambitious stable of prized thoroughbreds. At the same time, Mayer began seeing American socialite, Lorena Danker, eventually to become the second Mrs. Mayer. So, to suggest Mayer would have preferred to remain Metro’s mogul in name only is a bit much, as certainly he could not then, or as yet, see the hour when New York’s president, Nicholas Schenck had given him the ole heave-ho, then Mayer felt he could entrust the creatives to, by far and large, run the show. After all, largely due to their visionary approach to picture-making, had MGM risen like a phoenix to become the envy of not only Hollywood, but the world. So, Mayer felt increasingly confident he could afford to step aside and let well enough alone.

Alas, on The Kissing Bandit, ‘well enough’ was decidedly less than well itself, but decidedly more than what was well-deserved after the critics virtually eviscerated the picture as a train wreck in the making.  Fair enough, The Kissing Bandit will never win any awards as the greatest musical of all time. It is, however, competently made.  And, if its gimmicky musical spoof of all those marauding swashbucklers a la an Errol Flynn or Tyrone Power did not exactly sit well with audiences back in the day, with the passage of time, one can clearly see that Sinatra’s take on the ill-fated heroics put forth in the picture are actually quite ingenious and comical; smart, and marginally sexy, if, still to keep up the persona of the musical fop rather than the rake – a studio-crafted temperament that Sinatra absolutely abhorred. The picture also features the breathtaking execution of the ‘Dance of the Furies’ – carried off by a swarthy Ricardo Montalban, luscious Cyd Charisse and gorgeous Ann Miller.  In retrospect, the most lethal aspect of the production is its awkward scenario, concocted by writers, John Briard Harding and Isobel Lennart. This affords too much screen time to the supporting cast – particularly J. Carrol Naish – at the expense of its principles, most definitely Sinatra’s titular Ricardo, who is often relegated to the backdrop of these proceedings. Waffling in subplots and bits of Vaudevillian humor, The Kissing Bandit also suffers from a rather bland musical repertoire; it’s one hit tune ‘Love Is Where You Find It’ borrowed from A Date with Judy (also in ’48).

The plot concerns Ricardo, a scrawny milquetoast of an heir to a patriarchal legacy of pillage and plundering. Apparently, Ricardo’s father was the real kissing bandit; a Robin Hood-esque desperado who conquered the hearts of every eligible maiden while he looted the Californian countryside. This back story is unbeknownst to Ricardo, who has been studying, of all things, hotel management in Boston. Ricardo returns to aid his father’s old friend – and partner in crime - Chico (J. Carrol Naish) when he learns that the inn co-owned by Chico and his late father, now inherited by him, is operating at a loss. One problem: the inn is actually a front for Chico and his band of men loyal to Ricardo’s late father, who naturally assume Ricardo will help them resume their activities as real bandits. The troop’s first holdup involves ransacking a coach with Teresa (Kathryn Grayson), the daughter of Governor Don Jose (Mikhail Rusumny) inside. Sparks immediately fly between Teresa and the shy Ricardo who – in a moment of bashful repose, does not kiss the perplexed girl, leaving her flustered and dismayed.

Back at the Governor’s mansion, Don Jose assigns his foppish Captain of the Guard, Colonel Gomez (Clinton Sunberg) the task of hunting down and hanging the Kissing Bandit. So far, so good. But then, Harding and Lennart introduce a convoluted complication into the plot. Chico’s inn is visited by Count Ricardo Belmonte (Carleton G. Young) and his oafish guardsman, Gen. Felipe Toro (Billy Gilbert); sent by the King of Spain to collect back taxes for the region from the Governor. These taxes the Governor has already lavishly spent on himself and his family and cannot afford to pay back. Owing to Belmonte’s large chest of gold coins, Chico attempts a botched robbery that ends with him and Ricardo tying up Belmonte and Toro, assuming their identities so Ricardo can court Teresa. Naturally, the girl eventually gets wise to the ruse and the whole affair falls to pieces. Recognizing he is not such a bad egg, but a horribly uninvolved ‘bandit’, Teresa allows herself permission to fall for Ricardo; the all’s well that ends well finale a little too conveniently contrived for everyone’s liking.

As scripted by Harding and Lennart, The Kissing Bandit owes much to thirties’ screwball than a ‘40's vintage MGM musical, nor even the swashbuckler, on whose coat tails much of its bungled premise rides. Despite its shortcomings, the picture does have its merits – most notably, stellar production values captured in some truly gorgeous Technicolor photography. Randall Duell’s production design is admirable, and Robert Surtees has captured some truly sumptuous outdoor photography, typically immersed in lurid hues of the old 3-strip color process. Unfortunately, Kathryn Grayson and particularly, Frank Sinatra, do not get the opportunity to show off their most glorious assets: their singing voices – a kiss of death for movie musicals! In hindsight, the standout musical moment is ‘Dance of the Furies,’ the aforementioned specialty performed by Ann Miller, Ricardo Montalban and Cyd Charisse, choreographed by Stanley Donen months after production wrapped and simply cut into the already finished film to add some musical heft to the piece. The other oversight here is owed Benedek’s direction, which is fairly stagnant. He clearly enjoys the light humor of his bit players more than the central narrative involving the protagonists. So, we get a lot of ‘business’ but no real bulk to what is supposed to be the burgeoning romance between Ricardo and Teresa. In the final analysis, The Kissing Bandit is an expensive experiment – a movie of great visual splendor that, regrettably, is not terrible engaging otherwise.

Warner Home Video’s DVD is near reference quality. The vintage Technicolor positively glows from the screen; vibrant, rich and sumptuous. With the exception of several extremely brief examples of slight mis-registration in the original negative, the overall image is razor sharp with an incredible amount of fine detail evident, even during dark scenes. Contrast levels are superbly realized. Whites are pristine. Blacks are deep and solid. Age related artifacts are rare, though present. The audio is mono as originally recorded. Warner has gone the way of Universal Home Video, removing ‘chapter menus’ from this DVD release (annoying!) and not even including the film’s original theatrical trailer as an extra! For shame!

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

3

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

0