ROSE MARIE (MGM 1935) Warner Archive Collection
After the unexpected
whirlwind of critical accolades and financial success that accompanied Naughty Marietta’s big screen debut,
L.B. Mayer set about handcrafting a handsome string of screen operettas for
Nelson Eddy and Jeanette MacDonald. Each film became incrementally more lavish.
Yet Mayer knew that the public wasn’t coming to these movies to see gargantuan
production numbers, but to hear his two stars sing. In the brief interim
between Naughty Marietta and the
team’s next project – Rose Marie
(1935) – rumours began to fly in the press that Eddy and MacDonald were lovers
off screen. At first, MGM did nothing to either confirm or deny these
allegations.
It was, after all, good
publicity. Neither co-star cared for this intrusion into their private lives,
however – perhaps Eddy least of all. Although MGM tried to finagle a romance of
celluloid between Eddy and Cecilia Parker, then with Alice Faye, Eddy played
his romantic intentions close to his vest. Some speculated he was gay – an accusation
the extended family denied, although Eddy’s sister would later suggest that a childhood
accident had left her brother impotent. Whatever the case, MacDonald attempted
her own damage control, quashing rumours by pursuing a romance with actor Gene
Raymond, whom she would later marry.
In the meantime, Mayer
bought Rudolf Friml’s Rose Marie for
MacDonald and Eddy’s next big show. The stars spent one month in the Sierra
Nevadas, an unheard of luxury in those days, capturing the isolated rural beauty
of the high mountains and glistening streams, accompanied by an entourage of
pack mules lugging cameras, reflectors, sound equipment, makeup huts and
portable toilets to some fairly remote locations. The constant threat of a
mid-September blizzard forced director W.S. Van Dyke to drive his actors and
crew at a breakneck speed. Four weeks later, everyone came back to the relative
safety of Culver City. But Van Dyke’s patience was twice tested by inclement
weather and a bout of queasiness after MacDonald spent nearly six hours in a
canoe with Eddy, shooting the title song.
Throughout the location
shoot MacDonald wooed two suitors from afar; Gene Raymond and Bob Ritchie. On
set, Eddy teased his co-star about her enterprising love life – but in the most
congenial way. Each night co-star Jimmy Stewart entertained the group with an accordion
at the lodge they were all sharing. Stewart was infinitely more at ease off
camera than on, his knees shaking so badly during scenes he shared with
MacDonald that it forced Van Dyke to shoot the pair from the waist up.
Rose
Marie is
another well-worn chestnut from the stage operetta’s glory days. Yet Frances
Goodrich and Albert Hackett’s screenplay veers wildly from the play’s more
conventional origins. In their version, Marie de Flor (Jeanette MacDonald) is a
Canadian soprano currently wowing New York audiences in Romeo and Juliette.
After another peerless performance, Marie retires to her dressing room. She is
pursued by an ineffectual suitor, Teddy (David Niven) and prodded by her
manager, Myerson (Reginald Owen) into accepting a dinner invitation from the
Premier of Quebec (Alan Mowbray) and his family. At first, the temperamental
diva stamps her feet and refuses to comply. But then Marie’s maid, Roderick
(Una O’Connor) gives her a letter about her brother John Flowers (James
Stewart) who is currently serving time inside a Quebec prison. Jack’s most
recent application for a parole has been denied.
Reasoning that perhaps the
Premier can encourage the legal process in her favour, Marie entertains him at
her apartment. Suspecting that the diva wants something in return, the Premier
tells her he will respectfully listen to her request. But the night’s
festivities are interrupted by a curious stranger, Boniface (George Regas) who
brings unexpected news to Marie. John has broken out of prison and, in the
process, murdered a Mountie. He is now a fugitive with a price on his head.
Distraught, and hardly thinking
clearly, Marie commands Myerson to indefinitely postpone her operatic engagements.
She packs a bag and dresses in casual clothing, embarking on journey with
Boniface through the untamed Canadian Rockies. Arriving at an outpost near Lake
Chibougam, Boniface steals all of Marie’s money and then disappears, forcing
her to seek refuge inside the local inn. The bawdy saloon serves as a pit stop
for roughnecks and Mounties alike, who come to cheer hooch dancer, Belle (Gilda
Gray). Marie attempts an audition but is woefully upstaged by Belle who knows
too well that all the customers really want is some shimmy and shake for their
money.
Sergeant Bruce (Nelson
Eddy) takes pity on Marie. After filling out the necessary paperwork for her
stolen property he arranges for the Mounted Police to put her up for the night
inside the inn, and furthermore offers to escort her through the hazardous
mountain terrain in search of her thieving guide. At first Marie resists. The
last thing she needs is a Mountie tailing her to her wounded brother’s
hideaway. But Bruce is persistent. Moreover, he has wisely deduced that de Flor
and Flower are the same name and that Marie and John are obviously related.
Hence, sticking close to her will lead to the recapture of John.
After Marie and Bruce
observe an ancient Indian ceremony together, Marie skulks off with Boniface who
reluctantly agrees to fulfill his obligation and take her to John. Bruce
pursues the pair from a distance, but is forced to intervene in a rescue after
Marie is nearly drowned while attempting to cross a deep stream on horseback. Unable
to find another guide until Hayman’s Landing, Marie agrees to allow Bruce to be
her escort. The two begin their trek across the wilderness as strangers, but
finish it hopelessly in love.
Bruce suggests that Marie will only think of him
as a policeman once back in the city and the two presumably part company
forever. Marie finds John wounded inside a remote cabin. She provides him with
enough money to start over abroad. The plan is foolproof. If only Bruce had not
followed her obvious trail straight to the cabin’s door. Bruce reappears with
gun drawn, apprehending John in handcuffs and carting him back to the Mountie
outpost. Marie begs for John’s release, but Bruce is unmoved by her tears.
With no legal recourse to
appeal John’s conviction, Marie bitterly returns to her stage career. But she
is no longer the spoiled operatic diva with an iron-cast heart. Now, she is
haunted by memories of Bruce and the brief love affair they shared in the
Rockies. Eventually, these persistent reminiscences drive Marie into a mental
breakdown. Retreating to the snow-capped sanctuary of a Canadian sanatorium
Marie remains tearful and confused. Myerson hopes that his star – and frankly, his
meal ticket – will return to the stage in six months. Inexplicably, Bruce arrives
to sing a few bars of the romantic ballad ‘Indian
Love Call Song’ that they once sang together in the woods. His voice stirs
Marie from her catatonic grief and the two are reunited in the genuine sorrow
of their love.
Rose
Marie is
an oddity indeed. Setting aside the clumsy way the opening snippets from the Romeo and Juliet opera are staged –
supposedly as live theater but actually achieved using some truly awful rear
projection and sincerely laughable dissolves – the rest of the story is evenly
scripted and nicely packaged for maximum effect; taking full advantage of the
stunning Sierra Nevada locations. Yet there is a sincere and rather disturbing fatalism
to the love story. Marie’s obsessive loyalty to her murderous brother is rivalled
by her passion for Sergeant Bruce – the one man capable of destroying the
object of her devotion. Even more unsettling; we are never entirely convinced
that Bruce’s romantic intentions toward the woman he pretends to know as ‘Rose
Marie’ is – for all intent and purposes – honourable, so much as he is exploiting
her misguided allegiances to snuff out a murderer and thus fulfill the Mounties
edict of “we always get our man.”
Rose
Marie has
disturbing psychological ramifications not found in Friml’s original stage work.
Marie’s nervous breakdown and subsequent self-imposed exile suggest more deeply
repressed emotional insecurities and unfulfilled erotic longings that need to
be exorcised. Yet these are never
resolved in the film, even as MacDonald and Eddy embrace for their final close
up before the fade out, leaving audiences with a devious emotional cliff hanger
to resolve in their own minds. Does Sergeant Bruce get the girl as well as ‘his
man’ or are the lovers destined to be forever parted in this bizarre chasm of
intoxicating fidelities horribly gone awry? While many critics have often
flubbed off MacDonald and Eddy as lightweight musical fluff, faintly smelling
of formaldehyde and mothballs, Rose
Marie presents us with a more probing constellation of quandaries than who
simply gets the girl in the final reel.
Warner’s MOD DVD is a tad
disappointing, considering how exemplary their mastering efforts were on Naughty
Marietta. On Rose Marie the
B&W image appears uniformly thicker and less refined. Grain is heavy and
rather distracting. Overall, the image is sharp, but contrast levels appear slightly
bumped in some scenes, while rather weak in others. Age related artefacts are
everywhere and frequently intrude on our enjoyment of the film.
The image is
inconsistently rendered. The opera house sequences – with their dupe/rear
projection trick photography - suffer the most from a dense and thoroughly
unimpressive amount of distracting grain that registers as digitized grit. The Totem Tom Tom Indian processional – shot
day for night – is very grainy with very low contrast levels that obscure almost
all of the fine detail. On the whole this is a middling effort with predictably
par for the course results, given Warner’s rather slapdash way of offering deep
catalogue titles as part of the burn on demand Archive.
The audio is mono as
originally recorded, with obvious hiss and pop throughout. Like other titles
featured in the Archive, the only extra herein in a theatrical trailer in even
worse shape than the feature. Not what I expected. Certainly, not what this
film deserves.
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
3
VIDEO/AUDIO
2.5
EXTRAS
0
Comments