I LOVE MELVIN (MGM 1953) Warner Archive Collection
Don Weis's I Love Melvin (1953) is an enjoyably
forgettable musical entertainment, magnificently sold as high art by MGM's
overriding 'Class A' treatment and the considerable talents of its two stars
Debbie Reynolds and Donald O'Connor. The script by Lazlo Vadnay and George
Wells doesn't go anywhere except through the motions - following the meager
exploits of Judy Schneider (Reynolds); a wannabe Hollywood star who is actually
the daughter of Frank (Allyn Joslyn); a part time drug store manager in New
York City.
Frank is
determined that Judy take her head out of the clouds and marry Harry Flack
(Richard Anderson); a solid, but boring milquetoast prospect that leaves her
romantically cold. On a routine walk through Central Park, Julie meets Look magazine's photographic assistant,
Melvin Hoover (Donald O'Connor) - a bumbling and largely inept daydreamer who
only comes to life when he either sings or dances. Good for O'Connor for whom
dancing is his forte - but bad for Melvin.
After some
finagling, Melvin promises to put Julie on the cover of Look Magazine, even
though he has neither the pull nor the authority to do so. His boss, Mergo (Jim
Backus) discourages and all but ignores Melvin's romantic infatuation with
Julie, declaring "Wow! A girl on the
cover of Look. Imagine the novelty!" As is the case with nonsensical
wish fulfillment of this rank and sort, Julie does indeed eventually get her
name and face on the magazine's cover - but only after Melvin forges it in a
single copy to mask the lie that he probably cannot get her in the magazine any
other way.
As a film, I Love Melvin is simplistic to a fault.
The narrative is woefully conventional. There's really nothing fresh here. The
musical numbers are an entirely different matter however, and thankfully so -
particularly Judy's two dream sequences set to 'A Lady Loves' in which Judy envisions herself as Julie LeRoy - a
grand film diva surrounded by fawning admirers who shower her with jewels, furs
and even an Oscar. O'Connor and Reynolds do some high stepping in 'Where Did You Learn To Dance?' and
later, O'Connor has an electric solo with the I Wanna Wander - a rather obvious 'Make Em Laugh' knock off from Singin'
in the Rain in which O'Connor changes his wardrobe multiple times to play
act his way through a travelogue of comedy. There's also 'Saturday Afternoon at the Park' a rousing football themed
production number that has Reynolds as a human football being tossed about by
some lanky jocks. In all, 7 songs and dances skillfully divert our attention
from the fact that I Love Melvin is
just a B movie gussied up to look like an A-class picture.
Oddly, the
chemistry between Reynolds and O'Connor is curiously absent outside of their
dance numbers. Reynolds is too coy, too shallow as it were while O'Connor is
simply a buffoon rather than an amiable and awkward suitor. In the final
analysis, I Love Melvin isn't grand
entertainment. But it is a rather fascinating footnote and part of the reason
why MGM musicals fell so quickly out of favor with audiences after WWII. In its
heyday MGM had this idea that star power alone could propel a movie to
profitability. During the war and without the advent of television as a viable
threat for audience's attentions this logic proved sound for nearly two
decades. But after the war audiences began demanding more realistic
entertainment. Musical stars retreated to TV variety shows and minor gems like I Love Melvin became something of an
anomaly rather than tried and true bread and butter.
It isn't that I Love Melvin is a bad film. It merely
isn't an exceptional one and in a decade buffeted by changing tastes and
government intervention in the industry, a movie musical had to be darn good to
succeed. MGM continued to churn out musicals throughout the 50s and at an alarming
rate. Some, like Showboat, Annie Get
Your Gun, Singin' in the Rain, The Band Wagon, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers,
Silk Stockings, High Society and Gigi
proved exceptional hits. But as the decade wore on these became the exception
rather than the rule. I Love Melvin
is not in this class. It's fun, but fruitless; amusing, yet hardly legendary.
This is the
second edition of I Love Melvin for
the Warner Archive Collection and the preferred version for those considering a
purchase of this title. While the previously issued disc had a poorly
contrasted and faded Technicolor image, this reissue appears to have been
sourced from an improved camera negative. There are still age related anomalies
throughout and some minor edge effects but otherwise this is a fairly good
presentation on MOD. Colors are generally vibrant. Contrast is bang on. Whites
are white. Blacks are black. Flesh tones veer between orange and pink as is to
be expected from a vintage Technicolor film that has not had proper
restoration. You won't be disappointed by this transfer, but you won't be
overly impressed by it either. The audio is mono as originally recorded and
adequate for this presentation. We get the 'homespun' outtake of 'A Lady Loves' plus the film's original
theatrical trailer as extras.
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
3
VIDEO/AUDIO
3.5
EXTRAS
1
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