IT STARTED WITH A KISS: Blu-ray (Arcola/MGM, 1959) Warner Archive

I can almost forgive director, George Marshall his blatant rip-off of a scene from Howard Hawks’ brilliant screwball, Bringing Up Baby (1938) reconstituted for his own, It Started with a Kiss (1959) – an otherwise, disposable, but featherweight and utterly diverting rom/com - in which enterprising charity booth ticket seller, Maggie Putnam (Debbie Reynolds) tears off the back of her ball gown and is thereafter escorted in close proximity out of this sticky situation by the less than limber,  Sgt. Joe Fitzpatrick (Glenn Ford), again, riffing on his Teflon-coated screen persona as the congenial, ‘one woman’ man of integrity. I find it oddly amusing Ford always seemed to fit into this typecasting so succinctly as, apparently, behind closed doors, he could be quite a fickle horndog with the ladies. While arguably an homage to Hawks’ classic farce, the reinstated comedy here is vacuous and fleeting, as is most of the rest of what both precedes and follows it. Co-written by Valentine Davies and Charles Lederer, the farcical situations are thusly diluted by the real star of our show – a customized, blazing-red 1955 Lincoln Futura, later to discover its afterlife as the Batmobile on TV’s Batman series (1966-68). The Futura, a one-off concept car, costing roughly $250,000 to build – or $2.37 million in today’s dollars – was unlike most of its generation in that it was completely drivable; its original pearlescent white paint changed for this movie after it was discovered the former hue did not photograph well for the Metrocolor/Cinemascope cameras. And make no mistake about it, the Futura – won by our happy couple in the aforementioned charity raffle, only to become a tax burden - is the focus of the picture, even if the situations built around its inclusion are less than effervescent and do absolutely nothing to advance the picture’s plot.

Indie-made by Arcola Productions, released thru MGM, It Started with a Kiss is also notable for Metro’s flawed ambitions to create a major beefcake of the Latin lover ilk from Uruguayan actor/producer, Gustavo Rojo Pinto (foreshortened to Gustavo Rojo in these credits). While certainly swarthy and handsome enough, Rojo’s tenure in American movies was short-lived, although his career was prolific in his native land. Herein, Rojo is cast as the handsome toreador, Antonio Soriano, whose ego is as broad as his shoulders. The picture also stars Eva Gabor as the kind-hearted and flirtatious Marquesa Marion de la Rey, and Fred Clark as Joe’s cantankerous superior officer, Maj. Gen. Tim O'Connell. Stationed in cash-strapped Spain on a goodwill tour, Joe runs afoul of the military’s endeavor to keep a low profile; what, with his flashy import and a wife who thinks nothing of shocking the status quo by wearing slacks and shopping for expensive gowns – spending $1100 (a wedding present from her husband) in one afternoon on new clothes. It Started with a Kiss mostly avoids the pitfalls of becoming a turgid little nothing because both Debbie Reynold and Glenn Ford are old hams who have wonderful on-screen chemistry and are exceptionally grand at conveying the growing pains of newlyweds.  The usual stuff is exacerbated by Maggie’s convoluted notion that ‘sex’ gets in the way of a couple truly getting to know one another. Thus, she declares a moratorium on sweating up the sheets, driving her horny husband to wild distraction. In one rather ridiculous scene, Joe is seen taking three cold showers a day on the military base, just to stave off his romantic urges.

Reynolds and Ford have such high-spirited on-screen chemistry, the picture cannot help but click when it simply allows them to play off each other’s star-making presence; Reynolds, pert and plucky (a hallmark of all her ingenues) and Ford, doing the befuddled husband thing exceedingly well. In the first few scenes, Joe, a bachelor on the prowl, makes the absolute most of a playful misdirection leading to complete seduction, ridding the perturbed Maggie of her notion that ‘things’ matter more than people, while effortlessly applying a certain amount of petty larceny to ward off the other wolves competing for Maggie’s affections at the charity ball. Maggie could easily resist Joe, whom she finds brash, ballsy and somewhat brutish in his approach to landing a date. But then, comes the kiss – akin to a jolt of female Viagra, instantly to blunt Maggie’s inhibitions and send her into an impromptu proposal of matrimony. It’s all rather proper, if off the cuff. But the next morning, Maggie begins to have doubts. After all, she wants a life teeming in riches; expensive clothes, furs and jewels, and travel and excitement – all of which are impossible to achieve on Joe’s military salary. Fate, again, intervenes. The single raffle ticket she sold Joe at the charity auction turns out to be the winner. And thus, the Futura sports car Maggie so admired the night before is suddenly theirs.  Wasting no time to share her good fortune with Joe, since gone on ahead and stationed in Spain for 30 days, Maggie takes the first plane to sunny Spain and has the car imported on the government’s coin – certain, it will impress her new husband.

Rather idiotically, she writes to Joe first – a cryptic letter, suggesting the biggest thing that could happen to two people in love is about to happen to them. Naturally, after consulting his fellow officer, Charles Meriden (Henry 'Harry' Morgan) and his wife, Sally (Alice Backes), this triumvirate concur Maggie is pregnant. Problem: Joe has only known Maggie for four full days. So, whose baby is she carrying? The discomfort shared by all is later diffused when Charles and Sally arrive with a small armada of friends off the base to congratulate the newly arrived Maggie, only to sincerely step in ‘it’ and thereafter, retreat in chagrin, leaving Joe to patch up this misconception with his wife. From here on, It Started with a Kiss deviates in its purpose. Maggie is introduced to Soriano, and Joe to the Marquesa Marion de la Rey. And while Marion’s influence herein is that of the warm-hearted third wheel, with virtually no romantic intentions beyond friendship, the hot-blooded Soriano makes no bones about his desire to make a sexual conquest of Maggie – much to Joe’s jealous chagrin. Even after discovering Maggie and Joe are a couple, Soriano bides his time, taking the newlyweds, along with a small contingent of fair-weather friends, first, to the bull fights, and then, on a tour of his fabulous villa and wine cellar, resulting in a night of wine-tasting in which Maggie gets soused and thereafter makes an inelegant fool of herself.

To smooth over the edges in their fractured romance, Marion encourages Joe to attend her for the weekend at her villa.  Meanwhile, due to various infractions to U.S. foreign policy created by Joe’s attempt to sell off the Futura to Soriano for $17,400.00 – precisely the amount he needs to cover the taxes on it (technically illegal, as a military man he can show no profit while stationed on base), Maj. Gen. Tim O'Connell places Joe under house arrest, confining him to quarters until the whole diplomatic brouhaha can be sorted out with Congressmen Richard Tappe (Edgar Buchanan) and Muir (Robert Warwick). As Maggie’s Congressman, Tappe is particularly incensed by her outspokenness against the military’s policies. However, as Joe has already moved into Marion’s uber-elegant villa, he is now confined in these posh digs ‘under military house arrest’ until the situation resolves itself. Marion decides to throw a lavish house party attended by Maggie and Soriano, who has since put the pressure on Maggie to marry him immediately after her divorce from Joe is finalized. And although Maggie has agreed to this, she wholeheartedly concurs there is no spark in this new alliance; nothing magical to make her toes curl and heart melt the way it did when Joe kissed her.

Staying the weekend at Marion’s villa, the Major General is startled to also discover Joe there, but even more shocked when Maggie, misinterpreting the designation of rooms, and desiring nothing except to reconcile with her husband, accidentally slips into Tim’s bedroom instead, discarding her clothes and crawling into his bed.  Happily, Marion, Soriano, Joe and the congressmen and their wives all intrude on this thoroughly awkward moment, forming their own suspicions and adding to the havoc for O’Connell. The stuffy congressmen and their wives naturally assume the absolute worst. Soriano is willing to let bygones be bygones until Joe lands the smarmy lothario on his ass with a celebrated knock-out punch. As Marion spirits Soriano away with only his pride wounded, Joe and Maggie reconcile. He proposes a truce – one month, sans any sexual contact, to see if they are compatible as man and wife. And although this is precisely the same set of conditions Maggie first imposed, to have begun our misguided folly of finding love after sex the first time around, moments later, Joe throws caution to the wind, accompanying Maggie back to her suite where, presumably, the full flourish of their respective pent-up sexual frustrations is about to break loose.   

It Started with a Kiss is an uber-elegant affair, thanks to MGM’s penchant for peerless gloss and a visual sophistication, supported by Robert J. Bronner’s marvelous cinematography, in Cinemascope and the eye-popping hues of Metrocolor (the studio’s own patented use of Technicolor). With the exception of a few inserts actually shot in Spain, to add to the travelogue experience of this globe-trotting excursion, most of the picture was shot on reconstituted sets, pillaged from Metro’s storehouse of exquisite props and costumes that, unfortunately, were all sold off at auction in the mid-1970’s. So, we again can clearly see, among other hand-me-downs, the ‘throne room’ set built for 1938’s Marie Antoinette (one of the studio’s costliest productions) subbing in for the hotel ballroom where Maggie and Joe have their first ‘cute meet’. Costume designer, Helen Rose creates some fairly sumptuous gowns for the ladies to wear – a fashion parade to add to the lovely confections and backdrops already fleshed out by art directors, Urie McCleary and Hans Peters.

It Started with a Kiss is undeniably good to look at. Cinematographer, Robert J. Bronner, who photographed some of the studio’s splashiest musicals throughout the decade – including 1955’s It’s Always Fair Weather, 1956’s Meet Me In Las Vegas, and 1957’s Silk Stockings - fills every crevice of the elongated Cinemascope frame with something gorgeous, delivering a plushily padded visual experience. The story is wafer thin, but it does not really matter because Ford and Reynolds know how to fluff up their featherweight parts with megawatt star power. Reynolds, in particular, has great fun playing the slightly inebriated Maggie, flopping about and tripping over wine barrels in Soriano’s private wine-tasting room, hiccupping on cue and spouting off playfully insolent barbs that create quite a lot of good humor. She also warbles the movie’s forgettable title tune, a clumsily-composed ditty co-authored by Rudy Render and Charles Lederer.  Ford, primarily known for his ‘serious roles’ acquits himself rather nicely of the romantic fop, perpetually bemused by the attitudes of this strange woman he married on the fly, and, edgy and nervous his new marriage is slipping away on a technicality. Gustavo Rojo and Eva Gabor make for a winning second-string pair of flighty, but fun-loving romantic misfits. We can thoroughly believe Rojo’s ego-driven toreador when he professes a sexual prowess that could make passionate non-stop love for 48 hrs. Rojo’s toothy charm is vaguely reminiscent of Fernando Lamas. Had he arrived in Hollywood only a decade earlier, he would have likely made a very big splash in the movies. As one half of the Gabor sisters, both of whom would go on to make an art of marrying well for themselves, Eva herein exudes a sort of bright-eyed graciousness – less slinky, if as sophisticated as Zsa Zsa in her prime. In the final analysis, It Started with a Kiss is exuberant fluff. It works despite its narrative handicaps because the stars are fun to watch and the production values can scarcely be beat.

It Started with a Kiss arrives on Blu-ray via the Warner Archive is an absolutely sparkling 1080p transfer, surely not to disappoint. One sincerely wishes for WAC to get busy on making some of their more high-profile Technicolor movies in their back catalog available in hi-def.  Colors here, pop as they should. Flesh tones are creamy. The tangerine-colored beaded gown Reynolds accidentally tears to shreds in the opening act is a stunner in Metrocolor, as is the fire-engine red ensemble she later sports to go slumming at the bull fights. The image throughout sports excellent contrast and a light smattering of film grain looking very indigenous to its source. Truly, there is nothing to complain about here from a visual standpoint. This disc shows off Bronner’s cinematography to its very best advantage. Several process plates reveal themselves as more obvious in this higher resolution, particularly a cutaway to an outdoor Spanish wedding, first seen in the stark light of noonday, but then, rather inexplicably, tinted midnight blue and projected as a backdrop while Reynolds and Ford enter a hotel (presumably in Spain, though actually cobbled together from portions of the tavern set from Moonfleet (1955), redressed to resemble a Spanish hacienda. The Westrex mono audio is uneven at best. WAC has preserved the original soundtrack. But the results reveal the strident nature of the original tracks, thin and unprepossessing – odd, given most Cinemascope movies were usually accompanied by six-tracks of vintage stereo. Whatever the reason, WAC has done its level best here and the results, if not outstanding, are adequate at representing the original mix. Save a badly worn and severely faded theatrical trailer, there are NO extras.  Bottom line: It Started with a Kiss will not win any awards for its writing.  It is a high-styled and effortlessly assembled bit of super kitsch that continues to hold up remarkably well under today’s more jaundiced scrutiny. The picture made money for Metro in 1959 – definitely proof of a simpler time in the picture-making biz, when audiences could still be dazzled by star-power and a little plush padding. Judge and buy accordingly.

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

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

5

EXTRAS

0