I’m glad “Kismet” exists. It’s
full of performers I like. Working in a form I like – the Arabian Nights
romance. And - of course - it’s an MGM musical. But because the best MGM musicals set the bar
so high, one tends to hope for a bell-ringer each time out. Especially with Vincente Minnelli, rex imperator
of movie musical directors, at the helm. As it happens, “Kismet” is no “Band Wagon”, no “American in Paris”. But
in the process of writing about the movie (and re-watching it several times), I
find my once negative impressions have been somewhat tempered. I now see MGM’s “Kismet” as a work studded
with positives. One I’ve, in fact,
grown quite fond of.
“Kismet”’s great treasure, of course, is its wonderful
score. Few film musicals can equal it for sheer melodic opulence. When it comes
to adaptations of classical music into the popular mode, “Kismet” remains a
strong contender for best ever honours.
The sustained quality from song to song is impressive. And the performance level among the singers
and musicians involved in MGM’s version is
strictly high-caliber. Yes, the film’s visual presentation of the songs is hit
and miss. But it probably would have been asking too much to expect visuals as
heady as the music. And there are onscreen
moments, images, pictorial flourishes that really do come close to matching the
music’s lustre.
It’s
not unusual for film adaptations of stage musicals to jettison some of the
original songs for one reason or another. Change of emphasis story-wise,
suitability to the performers engaged, maybe just time constraints. And
“Kismet”’s no different. Though a couple of the songs MGM omitted deserve a bit
of special mention.
“Was
I Wazir” is a comic solo for the villain. Very much in the vein of a Gilbert
& Sullivan patter song. Not necessarily requiring a performer of great
vocal range. But certainly one with good musical instincts and a gift for delivering
complicated, tongue-twisting lyrics. Robert
Morley may have been able to handle it – his trademark comic aplomb possibly
trumping any lack of conventional singing ability. The lyrics are macabre fun:
“The time we caught the man who said I wasn’t nice
I confiscated his brother
Then did something or other
Involving him
dissolving in
A vat ... of ... lye”
But they require stylish interpretation to maximize their
effect. Sebastian Cabot’s ho-hum
characterization, more ill-tempered than incisive, gives little indication he’d
have brought much flair to the song. I’ve
heard many recordings of the number over the years and the best by far was from
Ian Wallace on a 1963 British studio album of “Kismet”. He gets sly comic
mileage out of the thing. And without a
visual component. Who knows? Minnelli
may have been tickled pink with the idea of Robert Morley doing it. And once Cabot was cast, just lost interest in
filming the song. Maybe “Was I Wazir” was
considered an unnecessary interruption to plot flow. And as such, even if it
had been filmed, a likely candidate for the cutting room floor. MGM decision
makers may simply have seen the number as too esoteric, something average
ticket-buyers would simply tune out, squirming in their seats till it was over.
Whatever the reasons, “Was I Wazir” didn’t make it into the film.
A far
less defensible excision from the score was “He’s in Love”. Next to “Night of My Nights” it’s my favourite
song in the show. With its take-home melody set to the joyous tempo of a free- wheeling
pendulum, “He’s in Love” provides natural incentive for some visual movement
and spectacle (which the finished “Kismet” could surely have used). In the
stage show, it follows the “Stranger in Paradise” duet, and expresses the newly
infatuated caliph’s giddy elation after he leaves Marsinah’s garden. Passers-by
pick up on his mood. The feeling’s contagious; people in the street burst into
song, remembering their own romances,
past and present. Melody and lyrics join to express a kind of galloping rapture,
transforming the scene into a mass of movement, colour and musical euphoria.
Certainly in the movie “Kismet”, the young lovers’ relationship was somewhat underdeveloped. Inclusion of this
number could have worked not just as a glorious show-stopper but also as a
chance to add some heightened fervour to that part of the story. But somehow,
somebody with more clout than common sense decided that the movie version of
“Kismet” didn’t need all that ecstasy. So good-bye, “He’s in Love”. Bad
decision.
Kismet is arguably an operetta. Its
score is, after all, a direct adaptation of classical music. And what is operetta
but a kind of theatrical meeting ground between classical and pop? Marsinah and her caliph are pure operetta
creations, their duets classic soprano/baritone displays. When “Kismet” began
filming, operettas still had a certain viability as screen properties. Early
50’s movie versions of “Show Boat”, “The Merry Widow” and “The Desert Song” had
all enjoyed healthy box office returns. This was, after all, an era when Mario
Lanza was a major box-office star and “The Student Prince”’s drinking song was
a radio staple. So MGM could have realistically expected profits from its
“Kismet”. But timing is everything. By
the time the film hit theaters late in ’55, the cultural climate was already
headed into what many regarded as a cataclysmic shift. With the music world
getting ready to rock around the clock, operetta was rapidly being written off
as something for your grandmother. Cultural and social shifts have continued
unabated in the decades since. And operetta’s yet to make a big-screen comeback.
So I guess I’d have to say that in 2017 “Kismet”’s future as a motion picture property seems dim.
Unless Disney sees fit to homogenize it into a heroine-empowered animated pop
musical, MGM’s 1955 production is the last big screen version we’re likely to
see.
Still,
“Kismet” has been revisited many
times in subsequent years. There’ve been numerous studio recordings plus a 1967
TV edition with Barbara Eden as Lalume. And
theater audiences still seem able to respond. There’ve been lots of stage
versions, including full-scale Broadway and London revivals. Perhaps the most unexpected “Kismet”
reincarnation was the all-black production that played Broadway in 1978.
Radically refashioned (it’s set in 14th century Mali), it was even
retitled ( as “Timbuktu!”). Considering the name “Kismet” still held
considerable cachet in musical theater circles, the wisdom of retitling the
show seemed dubious. And not effectively getting the word out that this was
indeed “Kismet” redux probably cost the project a greater audience. But kudos
to the makers for committing to the new concept, the title switch pretty much
confirming that commitment. Contemporary
reviews indicate the show was lavish, lively and loaded with talent. With
Eartha Kitt the production’s marquee name, the script was somewhat skewed in
her favour; the part of Lalume was considerably expanded and spotlighted. Still.
that must have worked out okay because she was Tony nominated. The show had a
six month run on Broadway, along with an extensive tour. Sadly, no cast album
was ever made but a couple of blurry YouTube clips of the touring production
survive. And certainly indicate that “Timbuktu!”’s creators did right by “Night of My Nights”. Bruce Hubbard’s the caliph and - while he doesn’t try for Damone-like
intimacy, at least in this song – his rich and ringing voice packs quite a
wallop. And – even given the substandard visual quality of the YouTube clip -
it’s clear the production turned the number into an excitingly mounted moment.
If only Minnelli’s “Kismet” had been half as ambitious and creative in presenting
the song.
“Kismet”
got another worthy nod in 1963 on Judy Garland’s TV variety series. Much
acclaimed – but crushed in the ratings by “Bonanza” – it was cancelled after
one 26 episode season. Most of the shows featured high profile guest stars – many of
whom who were – like Judy – MGM veterans. (Mickey Rooney, Jane Powell, June
Allyson, Donald O’Connor among them). Joining Judy for a November ’63 episode
was Vic Damone. More poised than in his movie years (he’d acquired an aura of cucumber
cool by then) – and in wonderful voice – Vic joined Judy for a “Kismet” medley.
And it was smashing. For openers, the
medley rather audaciously steered clear of the two biggest hits “Stranger in
Paradise” and “Baubles Bangles and Beads”, presenting instead my favourites, “Night of My Nights”
and “He’s in Love”, then ending with “And This is My Beloved”. The arrangement,
put together by either Mort Lindsey or Mel Torme (both of whom handled music supervision
for the series), was sensational, running the gamut from swinging to stirring,
the chemistry between Garland and Damone a joy. The opening lines to “And This is
My Beloved” present a beautifully mellowed Damone, his sensitive delivery
easily eclipsing the mere excellence of his movie performance. Years of
experience had only deepened his artistry. Had he delivered the song with this
much depth of feeling in 1955, no one would have even noticed that lifeless
looking garden. Nor would the onscreen love affair’s credibility been in any
doubt. Luckily, the medley’s preserved on YouTube in all its glory. And if you
like it as much as I do, you’ll want to watch the out-take( also on YouTube),
an alternate performance where Judy reacts hilariously when she muffs her part
with just seconds to spare. In all – a priceless addition to“Kismet”’s musical
legacy.
As
previously mentioned, MGM’s “Kismet” came at the end of a golden age. The
studio system was collapsing. TV was proving too strong a competitor. Movie audiences
were becoming more cynical, increasingly intrigued by method actors, foreign
films and adults only fare. More and more people saw musicals as nothing but pablum. Rock’n’roll
was, after all, changing the face of pop music. The type of songs that fueled
the old musicals – songs whose style seemed such an integral part of the whole
movie musical concept – no longer ruled the hit parade charts. Suddenly, Hollywood was losing faith in the
old style vehicles as money-makers. In 1954 MGM took a calculated double gamble and
decided to fuse the musical genre with the then popular Ancient spectacle form.
“Quo Vadis” and “The Robe” had each made fortunes. “The Ten Commandments” was
in production. So at the same time Metro
was bringing ancient Baghdad to life in “Kismet”, Esther Williams and Howard
Keel were being measured for the tunics and togas they'd wear in “Jupiter’s Darling”, a
musical set in ancient Rome. Full of spirited outdoor action, it’s by far the
better of the two films. The choreography’s excellent (the film was a super
showcase for dance team Marge & Gower Champion). And Esther’s swimming
sequences, among her best, included an underwater ballet with Roman statues coming
to life and an exciting undersea chase, where Esther eludes pursuing soldiers.
Director George Sidney doesn’t enjoy the same kind of rarefied reputation as
Vincente Minnelli. But in this case, going head to head with “Kismet”, he
easily wins the competition. The one thing “Jupiter’s Darling” lacked was
“Kismet”’s fantastic score. The songs
were serviceable but nothing more. And – in any case - the writing was on the
wall. For all its virtues, “Jupiter’’s Darling” was, like “Kismet”, a box
office flop. Audiences for this sort of thing were simply in massive
retreat. Every previous Esther Williams
musical had been golden at the box-office. After this one flop, a panicky MGM
did little to encourage her to stay. By year’s end, Metro’s heretofore
unsinkable box-office mermaid had left the studio.
“Kismet” was a property with the
innate pictorial possibilities to really exploit Cinemascope. The wide screen
only accentuated the visual barrenness
of clunkers like “Hit the Deck” and “Meet Me in Las Vegas” Even with its flaws, “Kismet” filled the
screen far more interestingly than those two. Yet it was no more successful
profit-wise. I think a change in directors might have made “Kismet” a better
film. At Universal John Rawlins (“Arabian Nights”), Arthur Lubin ("Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves") and Charles Lamont (“Flame
of Araby”) had all shown tremendous flair for making Arabian Nights romances
that were both lively and lucrative. Knowing Minnelli was so opposed to doing
the project, Metro should have considered other alternatives rather than force
him to do it. Engaging any of these directors would have been a sensible
course of action. In addition, a young man named Don Weis had recently helmed MGM’s Donald O’Connor/ Debbie Reynolds musical
“I Love Melvin”, carrying the whole thing off with buoyant expertise. But
quality was no guarantee of box-office success and when that film underperformed, Weis
left the studio. His next project was “Adventures of Hajji Baba” in 1954. And –
with it – he breathed new and exciting life into the Arabian Nights genre,
taking the old tropes and celebrating them with real wit and dash. There was
even a strong musical element, courtesy of the pervasive and pleasing Nat King
Cole theme song (a big radio hit that year). Don Weis was probably the man who
would have made the best possible “Kismet” at MGM. With an obvious sympathy for
the Arabian Nights setting, a gift for making movie musicals and a young man’s
energy and enthusiasm, he might have brought all of the show’s possibilities to
real fruition. It’s nice to imagine. But one must admit that even this
hypothetically perfect “Kismet” might not have survived in the hostile
box-office climate of the mid-50’s. Movie audiences were determined to move on
– and if that meant boycotting the beautiful as well as the bad, then so be it.
MGM
and the Freed unit somehow managed one last classic. They engaged the red-hot
song-writing team of Lerner & Loewe (fresh from their historic stage
triumph, “My Fair Lady”), attaching them to a project Vincente Minnelli
genuinely cared about, “Gigi”. Somehow MGM was convinced to spring for Paris
locations and a lavish budget. It didn’t hurt that Lerner & Loewe came up
with one of the best original scores ever created. The resultant movie emerged a
major hit with critics and audiences. And the triumph climaxed when “Gigi” won
the 1958 Academy Award as best picture of the year. It was the classic MGM musical’s
last hurrah. The Freed unit was partially disbanded by now; the erosion
continued rapidly. Subsequent MGM musicals were few and far between – ranging
between hopelessly old-fashioned duds (“Billy Rose’s Jumbo”) and shoddy Elvis
vehicles ( “Kissin’ Cousins”, anyone?)
The suddenness of this cultural
shakeup must have been especially distressing for the generation of musical
performers who’d established themselves as important movie names in the 40’s
and 50’s. Just take the cast of “Kismet”. When the movie began filming, Howard
Keel was one of Metro’s most valuable properties; Vic Damone seemed set for
more and better movie musical opportunities. Dolores Gray, a reasonably recent MGM recruit,
had attracted raves in her first film “It’s Always Fair Weather” and seemed
headed for further triumphs. None of them ever made another movie musical after
“Kismet”. It must have seemed inconceivable that the genre in which they’d
trained, to which they’d aspired and in which they’d achieved such success
practically collapsed overnight. Damone
concentrated on his singing career. Keel made the occasional film, none of them
musicals. Eventually he and Gray focused on stage and nightclub work. Keel at
least enjoyed a late and lucrative
career resurgence in the 80’s with TV’s“Dallas”. Ann Blyth made one more musical film, “The
Helen Morgan Story” in 1957, playing the
tragic 20’s and 30’s singer of the title. Amazingly, the producers
decided to have someone else dub Blyth’s vocals. In spite of that marvelous soprano of hers,
the studio wanted a more radio friendly sound and hired pop warbler Gogi
Grant. Still, Blyth, cast opposite a magnetic Paul Newman, was tremendous in the film. Interestingly, it was a
reunion with director Michael Curtiz, who’d guided her -years before - through
her Oscar-nominated performance in “Mildred Pierce”. "Helen Morgan" probably contains the best
work of her entire career. It was also
the last motion picture she ever made. Still in her twenties, the lady left movies
entirely. From then on, Ann Blyth sightings came only via occasional appearances in
summer stock (where she invariably charmed audiences in perennials like “The King
and I” “Show Boat” and “The Sound of Music”) and television. A shame about all those movie musicals that
were never made. The ones where she
could have continued to share all that beauty and talent just coming into full
bloom as she stepped away from the big screen.
No, I don’t expect any more movie
versions of “Kismet”. The whole operetta concept is foreign to modern
audiences. Soprano voices have been drowned out by melismatic showboating , in
your face rap and auto-tune. Innocence has given way to cynicism and that’s a
genie we can’t put back in the bottle. “Kismet” 1955 is a time capsule. A flawed one, perhaps. But still a reflection - or refraction –of the
era when talent, inspiration and the world’s mind-set regularly conspired to
make movie musicals fly. The film musical
was a vital part of the zeitgeist then. It
was a time when you’d go the movies every
week and – as the lights dimmed - legitimately hope to see a terrific, joyous movie
musical. And – reassuringly often – that’s exactly what you’d get.
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