Film
it fast. This seems to have been the guiding directive behind “Kismet” from
very early on. Minnelli wanted to be in Europe for “Lust for Life” by
late July, 1955. Since “Kismet” didn’t begin shooting till near the end of May,
that meant every bit of it would have to
be in the can within nine or ten weeks. A tall order for an expensive MGM
musical ostensibly meant to dazzle eye, ear and – hopefully - imagination. Charles Lederer and Luther Davis, co-authors
of the stage libretto, had been engaged as part of the initial story buy. And little pressure was put on them to change
or adapt their work into something more cinematically adventurous. The plot: a beggar-poet in old Baghdad, using his quick
wits and nimble tongue, negotiates a series of coincidences that take him on a
dangerous course from rags to riches - and possibly back again. I, for one,
like the story and most of the dialogue as it is. But surely a bit of exciting action, a sword fight
or two, a wild desert chase, camels racing over moonlit dunes wouldn’t have
been that hard to shoehorn in. And certainly the finished film – much of which
seemed to be operating under a flat enter
stage left, exit stage right strategy, could have used some extra energy.
MGM
already had a full complement of craftsmen qualified to give “Kismet” dazzle on
every level. The Metro music department was fully mobilized –Conrad Salinger
and Alexander Courage (orchestrations), Jeff Alexander and Robert Tucker (vocal
arrangements), young Andre Previn (conductor) . And on the musical level, the film really did deliver
quite beautifully. There were omissions from the original stage score; also additions,
elisions and revisions. But what emerged was outstanding. MGM had pioneered the
movie soundtrack album – and the cast LP (MGM
E3281) that arrived late in 1955 added considerable adornment to an already
impressive catalogue.
Some
important outside help was also contracted to work on the picture. Jack Cole, choreographer
of the stage musical, was brought in to oversee the dances. And famous designer
Tony Duquette signed on to do costumes. Duquette’s skills actually went far beyond costume
design. He was in demand as a creator of furniture, jewellery, decorative
artifacts of all kinds. When upper crust types wanted an exotic ambience
conjured up for one of their shindigs, Duquette was the go to guy. His phantasmagorical
style provided many a high society event with a distinctive hyperbolic charge.
Minnelli’s decorative tastes were definitely attuned to Duquette’s They’d worked together before. Though often assumed
to be pure Minnelli , it was Duquette who designed the spectacular set Fred
Astaire and Lucille Bremer glide through and around in “This Heart of Mine” from“Ziegfeld
Follies”. The mise-en-scene for another Astaire-Bremer teaming, the “CoffeeTime” number (from “Yolanda and the Thief”) was also a Duquette creation. He
designed a surreal black and white patterned floor surrounded by imposing
statues and elegantly weightless drapery. Minnelli and choreographer Eugene Loring made
the most of the space, splashing it with dancers in strange renaissance meets
swing outfits. They whirl to complicated
syncopations, adroitly timed hand-claps adding delicious punctuation. Bremer and Astaire join in with some of the
most beautiful dancing ever filmed, weaving in and out of the group, ultimately
taking the spotlight in an explosion of grace and magical lighting. Definitely
one of those moments when a Minnelli film gave substance to dreams. Some
wonderful coffee table books have been devoted to Duquette’s
beyond sumptuous creations. Check out the one simply called “Tony
Duquette” (by Hutton Wilkinson and Wendy Goodman) , an immersive visual trip if
ever there was one. Duquette created
spaces that, inch for inch, out-Xanadued any Kubla Khan decree. Infusing a
multitude of influences into one visual space; locating the harmony in
diversity, the eloquence in overstatement, the pleasure and the pattern in
apparent pandemonium. Certainly, in a perfect 1950’s universe, Tony Duquette had
to be part of any MGM “Kismet”. Minnelli,
pressed for time, felt the need to delegate costume design to someone and saw
in Duquette a kindred spirit, someone whose work would complement his own high-intensity
aesthetic.
Some have dismissed the casting
of “Kismet” as merely a matter of convenience, sticking firmly as it did to the
MGM contract list. I think that statement tends to ignore the fact that, when
it came to musical comedy talent, no studio had a roster anywhere near as rich
as Metro’s. That illustrious stock company, though fated soon to disburse, was
still largely intact when “Kismet” went into production.
Virile, confident, handsome, with
a tall commanding figure and a voice to match, Howard Keel was certainly – at
the time - the screen’s leading baritone. The role of Petruchio in “Kiss Me
Kate” was not actually Shakespeare but it did require a kind of Shakespearean
authority (MGM had briefly considered
Laurence Olivier for the movie ). Keel grabbed the role with both hands
and delivered on all fronts. Close in
type to Keel were Alfred Drake and Richard Kiley, both of whom had starred in
the stage “Kismet”, Drake as Haaj, Kiley as the caliph. But neither ever
pursued film stardom with any vigour, achieving
their real glory on the stage. It’s doubtful either was seriously considered
for MGM’s “Kismet”. Their names on a
marquee would have meant little to movie audiences in 1955. Keel, on the other
hand, was coming off “Seven Brides for
Seven Brothers”, possibly the biggest in his string of movie musical hits. So
casting him as Haaj was a no brainer. He was also eager to do it.
Ann Blyth had joined the MGM
family in the early 50’s. She’d been a kind of junior sweetheart at Universal
since her teens when, on loan out to Warners, she suddenly transformed her
brand as Joan Crawford’s vicious daughter in “Mildred Pierce”. The accompanying
acclaim (including an Oscar nomination) suddenly made her a hot property. But
aside from a smoothly viperish role in “Another Part of the Forest”, the
excellent prequel to “The Little Foxes”, most of what Universal offered her was
inconsequential. Fans liked her, though; she was one of those actresses with
her own hot-selling paper doll book. So when the Universal contract expired MGM
hastened to sign her. Among other things, they exploited a facet of her talent
Universal had barely used, a beautiful soprano singing voice. “The Great Caruso”, “Rose Marie” and “The
Student Prince” all consolidated her standing as a musical film star. MGM had
kept its other sopranos, Kathryn Grayson and Jane Powell , strictly in
musicals. But they happily cast Blyth –
a genuine value for money acquisition - in straight dramas and costume films as
well. “Kismet” required a soprano for
the role of Marsinah, Haaj’s daughter. And in the early 50’s, there were only three
sopranos with any real standing as movie stars. Jane Powell’s sunny blondeness
was perhaps considered a mismatch with old Bagdad. And Kathryn Grayson had
recently left the studio. So, as third member of the trilling triumvirate, Blyth
seemed a natural and happy choice for the part.
The other main female character
in “Kismet” is Lalume, glamorous wife of wives to the villain. Lalume gets to
wear drop dead fashions, while developing some sizzling chemistry with Haaj. A couple
of years earlier , the part would’ve probably gone by default to MGM’s resident
other woman in a musical, Ann Miller.
In which case, Lalume would’ve morphed into a dancing role with at least one
mandatory tap routine. And character-wise, she’d have undoubtedly been the same uncomplicated
type Miller played in all her films, shiny surface, zero interior life. By ’55, Metro had a far more intriguing candidate
on the lot. Dolores Gray had been entertaining since childhood. But her big
show business break came in 1947 when she won the title role in the first
London production of “Annie Get Your Gun”. She was a smash in the show, headlining
it for three years. When Judy Garland dropped out of the MGM film version in ’49,
Arthur Freed asked the London producers to release Gray for six months so she
could replace Judy. Much to her disappointment,
they refused – and Gray missed her first chance at MGM stardom. It’s odd that Dolores Gray’s breakthrough role
was as backwoods Annie Oakley. Because in the next few years, the persona she
perfected onstage and in nightclubs was full-on urban sophisticate. Freed liked
the new Gray even better than the old one and dangled another MGM contract. This
time she was able to grab it. Her notices as a big city siren in “It’s Always
Fair Weather” were stellar. And aside from the glamour girl appearance, this
was clearly a woman with a wonderful, wide-ranging singing voice, fully able to belt but glowing with nuance when she toned it
down. “Warm Brandy” was the name of an LP she made in ’57 and that phrase nicely
captured the intoxicating feeling her vocals conveyed – smouldering fires,
barely banked. Stage Lalumes tended to be mezzo-sopranos ostentatiously letting
their hair down by deigning to swing. Gray was a genuine Broadway baby and
Freed thought that might be just what the role needed to make it work for movie
audiences. As far as “Kismet” was concerned, casting Dolores Gray was possibly
the best decision he ever made.
Vic Damone was MGM’s choice to
play the caliph, romantic stranger in Marsinah’s paradise. In the early 50’s, when standard singing crooners were
still viable hit parade regulars, he was one of America’s top-selling artists. MGM signed the good-looking Damone in 1950
but after a pleasant pairing with Jane Powell in “Rich, Young and Pretty”, he
was called up for army duty. When he returned, late in ’53, MGM quickly
reteamed them three more times. As a singer, Damone was world-class, his voice permanently
suffused with a kind of interior elegance . Sinatra once hailed him as
possessor of “the best pipes in the business”. When rock’n’roll reared its head, he serenely ignored it, continuing
to record big band and standard material as the decades moved on. And during
every one of those decades, that voice of his endured beautifully. As an actor,
however, Damone was never what you’d call
forceful. He tended to deliver his lines with polite earnestness, something of a deer in the headlights but an agreeable
one. Onscreen, he came off as the kind
of gentlemanly type 50’s mothers would want their daughters to date. Not
realizing how dangerous these quiet types can sometimes be. In real life, Damone certainly attracted plenty
of feminine admiration. Pier Angeli and Diahann Carroll were among the accomplished
beauties he married. MGM could hardly have been counting on Vic’s winning an
Oscar for “Kismet” but they could rest
easy that, with him performing them, the show‘s most romantic songs were in
good hands.
Beyond the four principals, there
weren’t many substantial roles in “Kismet”. For the main villain, MGM wanted
Robert Morley but he said no. At least it’s fun to imagine the look of
blowfish disdain on his face as he pooh-poohed the idea. So utility player Sebastian Cabot was hurried into the role. There was a small
part for the caliph’s adviser. And somebody at Metro apparently thought there
was still mileage left in Monty Woolley’s sneering curmudgeon act. So he, too, joined
the throng being fitted for turbans and kaftans. Like Cabot, at least he
brought his own beard. The rest of the cast was soon assembled. Now all they
had to do was make a movie.
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