PARTY GIRL: Blu-ray (MGM, 1958) Warner Archive

The seedy underworld of high-class call girls was decidedly underexposed in director, Nicholas Ray’s Metrocolor and Cinemascope noir drama, Party Girl (1958) – a mere attempt to tell the tales of woman who trade on their showgirl looks for some disposable quick cash, while squandering their time on men who regard them more as furniture than people, to be used, abused and cast aside for the next bright young thing strutting her stuff along the catwalks. Party Girl is the sort of absurdly glamorous affair that desperately wants to address more adult themes than it actually can under Hollywood’s then self-governing strain of censorship, and, in hindsight, reflected the unwillingness of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s brain trust to look beyond its illustrious days of yore when the old prestige-based precision of the Mayer/Thalberg regime was at its zenith. MGM never entirely embraced the cycle of noir thrillers, virtually to have saturated the American market from 1942 onward. Basically, Mayer felt all women ought to appear beautiful and all leading men handsome. Mayer also had no stomach for the ugliness of life – perhaps, having seen too much of it in his youth, he considered himself the absolute purveyor of a sort of impossible cleanliness and class ‘A’ alternative to reality, where people were just people, before extraordinary things began to happen to them. After Thalberg’s demise, Mayer sojourned on, indulging in his predilection for family films and costume dramas, and, of course, the Teflon-coated perfection of the great MGM musical. Mayer’s formula was solid and suited the studio’s homegrown, cultivated artisans…at least, for a time. Mayer, who died of leukemia in 1957 would never have green-lit a picture like Party Girl, if for no other reason, than it cast one of the studio’s irrefutable assets – classically trained dancer, Cyd Charisse – as a slightly over-the-hill prostitute; albeit, one bedecked in sumptuous frocks created by Metro’s then resident couturier, Helen Rose. Completely ignoring the fact no self-respecting gal for rent could afford such ostentatious trappings, Party Girl gives us a bevy of MGM’s glamour gals looking every bit as though to only just have emerged from Central Casting, perfectly made-up and with barely a hair out of place.

It is fairly laughable to think of Party Girl as ‘an adult film’ or even, to be set in the late 1920’s in a milieu of gangland styled goons, gats and gimps, pushing dope and dolls. Based on a story idea by Leo Katcher, George Wells screenplay doesn’t even get the period lingo right, with the ‘vintage’ trappings supplied by art directors, Randall Duell and William A. Horning, and set décor a la Henry Grace and Richard Pefferle, clearly a reflection of post-war American chic. Even Sidney Guillaroff’s hairstyles reflect the fifties’ pop princess, rather than tea-dance twenties’ tart.  So, Party Girl, however sumptuously realized, just seems off. It’s also a queer disconnect for Cyd Charisse – once groomed as Metro’s radiant and leggy bird of paradise – on which to end her studio tenure. The picture co-stars Robert Taylor and marks his penultimate appearance in studio-groomed product as well. Neither Taylor nor Charisse convinces us in their roles; she, as ‘working girl’ Vicki Gaye, and he, the slightly crippled attorney to the mob, Tommy Farrell. The rest of the cast are culled from some of the one-time big names in the biz whose reputations since have slightly gone to seed. Lee J. Cobb is Rico Angelo – a slovenly mob boss whose self-pity turns to venomous spite. Cobb, once a beloved of Hollywood, tarnished by HUAC’s blacklist, gives us a competent, but stock walk-through this cardboard cutout caricature of a mobster. Ditto for John Ireland as Louis Canetto – a not-so-slick gangster, barely a couple of notches below Angelo’s stature in the crime syndicates. Nevertheless, Canetto aspires to pursue a good time with Vicki on his terms, though without too much success.

After our first introduction to Vicki and the other girls who preen and parade on stage at The Golden Rooster, we meet lawyer to the mob, Thomas Farrell, flanked by an entourage of tuxedo-clad clientele from Chicago’s crème de la crème of the criminal class. Farrell offers Vicki $100 to attend a private party for Angelo, already two-sheets to the wind. Vicki also accepts another $400 from Louis Canetto from his gambling winnings to be ‘his girl’ for the evening. Alas, Farrell’s clout in the ‘organization’ outranks Canetto, and thus Vicki agrees to accept a car ride home from him instead. On route to their respective destinations, each expresses contempt for the way the other earns their money. She’s a whore. He’s a con. A match made in heaven…or some such place. But the mood turns dark when Vicki, along with Farrell, returns to the apartment she shares with another ‘party girl’, Joy Hampton (Myrna Hansen), only to discover Joy has already committed suicide by slitting her wrists in the bathtub. At police headquarters it is revealed Joy was also pregnant with another gangster’s child. Now, oddly, and ever so slightly sympathetic to Vicki’s lot in life, Farrell coaxes Rico into giving her a more plum spot in the Golden Rooster’s floor show. Better pay, too. Perhaps, Vicki’s been too hard on Farrell. And thus, and rather predictably – a romance ensues. Moreover, Vicki begins to admire Farrell for the way he uses his infirmity – a lame hip – as a prop to draw out sympathy for his corrupt clientele with a jury at trial. Farrell’s latest triumph, getting Canetto off on a murder charge. Meanwhile, a surgeon is found in Stockholm who might be able to properly mend Farrell’s hip.

Alas, the operation does more than improve Farrell’s physical well-being. It also alters his frame of mind. Hence, when another steely-eyed murderer, Cookie La Motte (Corey Allen) is up for trial, Farrell elects not to represent him, a decision that inflames Angelo, who threatens violence against Vicki unless Farrell does his job. Fearing that even if Farrell agrees to his defense, his strategy will be weak-kneed, Cookie jumps bail, scheming to put a bullet into prosecuting attorney, Jeffrey Stewart (the ever-dependable, Kent Smith) while at-large. Mercifully, Cookie and his goon squad are gunned down by another sect of racketeers while inside a diner. Buoyed in his confidence that an end to Angelo’s reign might be in sight, Stewart ramps up his investigation into the mob, pursuing criminal charges against all those even slightly connected to the big boss. Farrell is arrested. Still carrying a torch for Vicki, Canetto offers her protection. But when she refuses, Canetto’s true colors show and he makes Vicki his prisoner. Believing he can smoke out the remaining mobsters if Farrell is free on bail, the D.A.’s ploy works when Canetto gets caught in the crossfire of a gangland war. Farrell confronts Angelo who threatens him and Vicki with a bottle of acid. Alas, during their skirmish, the bottle smashes into Angelo’s face. With his eyes and face engulfed in toxic fumes, the old-time mob boss plunges to his death from an open window.

Party Girl is a fairly pedestrian noir thriller whose modus operandi is flawed from the outset. We are led to believe this tale to tell will center on Cyd Charisse’s tantalizing tart with a razor-back attitude. But almost immediately, the focus shifts to a stock and fairly straight forward story about gang violence in a world of men, where women are considered mere appendages to the action. The romance between Charisse’s hard-bitten realist and Bob Taylor’s reformed slickster isn’t all that convincing either. There are a couple of nicely written scenes to involve the audience in their burgeoning ‘understanding’. But otherwise, Wells’ screenplay is a strictly-by-the-numbers affair, padded out with MGM’s verve for gloss, made ever so slightly – if appropriately – gaudy by Robert Bronner’s cinematography. The central difficulty with Party Girl is it is never entirely certain what sort of movie it wants to be - a woman’s weepie about the harpy and harridan class in femininity, some still clinging to their proverbial hearts of gold, or a Warner Bros.’ styled gangland flick, where the gals are molls and the men do all the heavy lifting – and killing – to move the plot along. Lee J. Cobb’s performance as the biggest baddie of the lot is all over the place…decidedly, not his finest hour upon the stage. Thanks to the aforementioned production design, costuming, and, high key-lit cinematography, Party Girl looks every bit as glamorous as one might expect. But the appeal here is too recherche to be believed, with The Golden Rooster looking more like opening night on the rooftop of the Ziegfeld Follies than just another dimly lit ‘girlie show’ where the eye candy is ‘for rent’ by the hour.

If Party Girl doesn’t particularly hold up under closer scrutiny once its appeal as Metro product of a high-functioning caliber wears thin, there is virtually nothing to complain about with the Warner Archive’s handling of the Blu-ray. Another dazzler, for sure, imbued with an exceptionally nuanced color palette that positively sparkles in Metrocolor and Cinemascope belying the 63 years since it first hit movie screens. Incidentally, Party Girl turned a profit for MGM, I suspect, mostly because it had its marked appeal as an exposé about…well…you know. Cyd Charisse looks pretty hot and tempting in 1080p. It’s a pity Charisse’s better movie from the year before, Silk Stockings (1957) doesn’t look half this good in hi-def. But I digress. On Party Girl – colors pop as they ought. Contrast is uniformly excellent. A light smattering of film grain looks very indigenous to its source. The original 4-track magnetic tracks to have once accompanied Party Girl’s theatrical release have long been discarded and/or erased. Such was the case many times, as stereo mags could be reused for other product. So, what’s here is a competently rendered 2.0 DTS mono – solid, but a letdown if only for what the picture might have sounded like in its original presentation. Otherwise, WAC has done its due diligence here. Save a theatrical trailer, no extras. Not surprising. Bottom line: Party Girl looks gorgeous in hi-def. It’s still only a so-so movie, but one you’ll likely want to revisit in this sparkling new transfer.

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

3

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

0