THE OPPOSITE SEX: Blu-ray (MGM, 1956) Warner Archive

 An unreservedly cheerless and unfathomably insipid musical update of one of MGM's champagne cocktail comedies, David Miller's The Opposite Sex (1956) burst forth in expansive Cinemascope and eye-popping Metrocolor – alas, without ever to scratch the surface of Clare Booth Luce's sheer malevolence that had categorically hypnotized audiences in George Cukor's The Women (1939). Throughout the 1950’s, MGM repackaged many of its stellar comedies into a fairly impressive array of big budget musical remakes. The Philadelphia Story (1940) became High Society (1956) and the Garbo classic, Ninotchka (1939) the Astaire/Charisse sparkler, Silk Stockings (1957). But transferring Luce's wit to musical merits seems to have only diluted its more cutting comedy; that, and introducing men into the mix who were NOT part of the original plan. The Opposite Sex is such a colossally inane successor to The Women one sincerely wonders what MGM was thinking in dusting off the original, only to submerse it in the mire of a lavishly appointed super-production with far too much kitsch and coo. Daniel B. Cathcart’s production design is a hodge-podge of artistic misfires, capped off by Helen Rose’s uber-chic and absurd costuming. At one point, costar, Dolores Gray enters the room in a luminescent robin-egg blue evening frock, sprouting so much yardage in winged appendages from her shoulders and waist the gown literally prevents any of her costars from drawing nearer to her within the scene.  But I digress.

Where to begin? Perhaps with June Allyson's colorless central performance as Kay Hilliard (Mary Haines in the original), so overwrought in self-pitying angst it makes Norma Shearer's luminous star turn in the original all the more tantalizing and sadly missed. Shearer positively blossomed as the elegant, if down-to-earth and ever-devoted wife. Allyson, known as the studio's 'most popular musical sweetheart' (a.k.a. the fresh-faced girl next door) herein is looking rather dowdy – even frumpish. Worse, her interpretation of the role is entirely out of step as the Park Ave. sophisticate who discovers her husband, Broadway producer, Steven (a thoroughly wooden Leslie Nielsen) is stepping out with a common chorine from his latest show. Allyson is banal and bland, driving a stake through our empathy for her character. Worse, Allyson’s trademark hoarseness has been rather dubiously dubbed for one of the movie’s songs, though strangely, for none of the others she commits to herein – the best of the lot, ‘Now, Baby Now’. Important to note, costar in the original, Joan Crawford had used the The Women to reshape her 'shop girl makes good' image into that of a ruthless mantrap. Regrettably, Joan Collin's reincarnation of Crystal Allen in this remake is as a simpering feline who throws tantrums and flatware whenever she does not get her own way. It’s Collins’ sex kittenish quality that gets in the way of her coming across as that merciless and enterprising uber-bitch and husband-stealing tramp. Candidly, this Crystal is pathetic!

Rounding out 'the women' in this cast are Dolores Gray (as fair-weather, Sylvia Fowler), Ann Sheridan (Amanda, the writer - name inexplicably changed from Nancy Blake in the original), Ann Miller (Gloria - no counterpart in the original), Agnes Moorehead (as Countess de Brion – instead of De Lave) and Joan Blondell (as baby maker, Edith Potter). To this snooping support, the misguided screenplay by Fay and Michael Kanin adds even more curiously dull male counterparts. In addition to Leslie Nielsen's tepid philandering hubby, we get Jeff Richards as singing cowboy, Buck Winston, Sam Levin as Kay's former agent, Mike Pearl, and Bill Goodwin as Howard Fowler. As in the original, Kay discovers Steven is offering stud services to Crystal via Olga (Alice Pearce), a manicurist at the posh day spa, Sydney's. Sylvia is only too happy to goad Kay into confronting Crystal. This, she eventually does, in a badly bungled regurgitation of one of the best scenes from The Women. In the original, the showdown between Mary and Crystal positively crackled with a flint of contained ferocity between the two women in Steven’s life. Alas, herein, the tension is mortally fractured by Allyson’s sudden departure as Kay hauls off in a tear-stained frustration, belting Crystal across her cheek. Storming from the theater, Kay refuses to listen to Steven’s pleas for forgiveness and thereafter files for divorce, despite the pleading of their daughter, Debbie (the too, too precocious Sandy Descher).

Amanda encourages prudence and convinces the mild-mannered Kay revenge - most sweet - is in order. With Mike's help, Kay makes a smashing comeback to the Broadway stage, leaving Steven regretting his decision to marry Crystal. Meanwhile, Sylvia manages to land herself the catch of the day - Buck Winston. Or is it the other way around. In fact, Buck is using Sylvia to finance his debut as a sort of pre-Elvis rock n' roll star. On the surface, Crystal and Sylvia are the best of friends. But behind closed doors, Crystal has already moved on from Steven to Buck. Eventually, the whole nasty affair balls up with a spirited confrontation at one of New York's posh nightclubs. Kay entices, Dolly (Barbara Jo Allen), a gossip columnist, to snuff out the details of Crystal's manipulation of Steven, before exposing her affair with Buck to Sylvia. Believing Buck's singing debut will be a disaster - thereby making him entirely dependent on Sylvia for his livelihood - she believes her stake in his future to be secure until he goes into his song and absolutely wows the audience. Unfortunately for Sylvia and Crystal, Buck ditches them both for his big break.

The Opposite Sex is so oddly at war with its basic premise, it seems incongruously to resist every virtue bestowed upon it by the studio. For starters, this is supposed to be a musical. So, why take two of MGM’s biggest musical talents – June Allyson and Ann Miller (to say nothing of Joan Blondell’s memorable tenure at Warner Bros. and Dolores Gray’s formidable singing talents) and then, provide them with absolutely no opportunities in which to sell their wares? To this purpose, and the picture’s everlasting detriment, there are several truly painful production numbers shoe-horned into the plot. Nicholas Brodsky, Sammy Cahn, Ralph Freed and George Stoll – some fairly heavy-hitting tunesmiths of their day – are given credit for this patchwork, to include a cameo by Harry James and his orchestra performing, 'Young Man with A Horn' and June Allyson's brutally bad lip sync to Jo Ann Greer's 'A Perfect Love'. Given Allyson was Metro’s singing sensation throughout the 1940’s with a unique voice and way with a lyric, it is utterly perplexing why she does not sing this song herself, especially when she performs 'Now Baby Now' with her own inimitable panache. In this latter effort, Allyson is hoisted through a series of dance maneuvers – more athletic than balletic - by a robust and tuxedo-clad ensemble, some plucking violent violet-tinted bass fiddles, while other cavort against a lurid backdrop of steel scaffolding, swagged in drapery to change color from lurid Tiffany blue to autumn sunset.

Of the other musical offerings: Joan Collin's is paralytic, if slinky in the laughably bad 'Yellow Gold', while Dick Shawn overwhelms in a reprise of the title tune – a bizarre number, meant as part of another stage show – Shawn, pleading with his psychiatrist (Jim Backus) to rid him of the charms of the fairer sex, intermittently lying on oversized pin cushions or preening about the proscenium like a pack of oversexed Ziegfeld girls. And then, there is Jeff Richard's doing Elvis in the surprisingly coy 'Rock and Roll Tumbleweed' - the right song, inexplicably wedged into the wrong film. In all, the only remotely memorable tune is Delores Gray's interpretation of the title song under the opening credits. This anthem to sex and slither sets a sizzler for all that ought to have followed. Alas, in hindsight, it plays more like a coming attraction for another movie never to arrive. The biggest peeve I have with these songs in general is virtually none have anything to do with the plot. Outside of the opener, Dolores Gray, a ‘big ticket’ chanteuse with a killer set of pipes, never gets the opportunity to exercise them again. Indeed, Gray’s debut in the movies was decidedly ill-timed to coincide with the sad demise of the Hollywood musical. Had she appeared only a decade earlier, hers likely would have been one of the titanic and legendary singing careers in pictures. Instead, The Opposite Sex marks Gray’s penultimate contribution to the movies – her last, made the following year in Designing Woman (1957). If you are a fan of Cukor's The Women (1939) - as I am - it is virtually impossible to be even remotely amused by the artistic atrocities committed in this listless remake. Very badly done, indeed!

The Opposite Sex marks its Blu-ray debut from the Warner Archive (WAC) and in a transfer that is absolutely stunning. I must confess, my overall contempt for this movie was greatly tempered by the sumptuousness of the color palette here, Robert J. Bronner’s cinematography at long last on full display in 1080p. Do not misunderstand. The Opposite Sex is still a shamelessly overblown, over-stuffed and over-produced bonbon of bastardized material, excised and disjointedly reconstituted into the mélange of the Hollywood musical. But for the first time on home video, it looks utterly fabulous. The Metrocolor positively glows with razor-sharp brilliance, showing off Daniel Cathcart’s production design to its very best advantage. Cathcart is cribbing from a storehouse of goodies from other MGM pictures – sets, slightly re-dressed to suggest a ‘new’ super-production. Helen Rose’s absurdly lavish costumes dazzle in all their garish pizzazz. While WAC’s ‘remastered’ DVD left a good deal to be desired, this newly sourced Blu-ray delivers the ‘wow’ factor in spades. There remains one shot, curiously soft and fuzzy during Dick Schawn’s reprise of the title song, depicting a slinky sex kitten stretched out on a giant red velvet pin cushion. Not only is the shot soft, but grain is decidedly exaggerated, lending a ‘thick’ quality. Possibly sourced from a dupe. Otherwise, this looks amazing! The 4-track Perspecta Stereo (a cheaper alternative to 6-track Cinemascope stereo) has been dumbed down to a 1.0 mono but sounds incredible.  Odd, the MOD DVD contained a true 'stereo' remix. The Blu-ray does not! So, from a technical standpoint – The Opposite Sex positively excels - mostly. Another peerless effort from WAC. As with the DVD release, there are no extra features. Bottom line: The Opposite Sex is a musical clunker. The Blu-ray, however, is a blue-ribbon winner. Judge and buy accordingly.

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

1.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

0