Sunday, December 26, 2021

Film review: Love Me Tonight (1932)

This is the musical that "Isn't it romantic?" was written for.  It's also a vehicle for the unique charms of Maurice "obviously the inspiration for Pepe Le Pew" Chevalier and his now-hard-to-take-seriously accent.  This is one of several pairings of Chevalier and Jeanette MacDonald, who has huge bulgy eyes and a rather exaggerated "silent film" style of acting, which the presence of Myrna Loy throws into even sharper relief here.  This is definitely pre-code (the Blu-Ray even comes with a list of the various cuts demanded by the censors in different locations, and apparently an extended scene of Loy in a negligee was destroyed at the time and is lost to history), with a lot of wink-wink references, some of which rely on no-longer current terminology.  Essentially, the setup is this: Chevalier, whom we see awaken along with all of Paris in the impressive opening scene, and then proceed from his fairly humble abode through streets full of the women he has romanced (and their husbands) 


to his shop, is "Maurice," (I always wonder about actors whose characters tend to have their names - can't they remember to react to a different name?) a tailor of great skill but modest means.  However, he tells his first customer, who is delighted at the wedding finery Maurice has produced, but worried that he will be able to stay in business.  Not to worry, says Maurice, he has the Viscount de Varèze as a customer, who has already bought 40,000 Francs worth of suits!  Indeed, the Viscount shows up very shortly thereafter: the "across Paris" race is going past the shop door, and he (Charles Ruggles, another regular in the MacDonald-Chevalier films) has been pretending to be part of it, mainly because he's only in his undershirt and boxers, thanks to having had to beat a hasty retreat from the bedroom of a lady whose husband has returned unexpectedly (see what I mean about Pre Code?).  


He happily dons one of the many suits Maurice has made for him, and then hits Maurice up for cash on top of it (because, of course, his wallet was in his trousers), promising to pay Maurice (and the hatmaker, shoemaker and shirtmaker that Maurice has subcontracted with) as soon as he visits his rich uncle, the Duke in the country to get his allowance.  Of course, we the viewers have begun to distrust the Viscount by this point, but it's only later when the hatmaker et. al are badgering Maurice for their share of the money that a representative of the Merchant's guild (or something) comes to his store and announces that the Viscount de Varèze is notorious for never paying his debts.  Crestfallen, Maurice broods and then rallies: in the spirit of the revolution he will go down to the Duke's chateau and demand payment!  Cheered on by all Varèze's creditors, off he sets.  On the way down, we get the first meeting of Maurice and "Princess Jeanette" (again with the character-name-is-actor's-name), where Maurice is instantly smitten and even implants an earworm song ("Mimi," for some reason) in her head, but she stiffarms him, despite the fact that he rescued her from the ditch after her cart got overturned avoiding his broken-down car and heads off.  Eventually he makes it to the Duke's chateaux, which is largely filled with wrinklies (the Duke's idea of a great day is Bridge followed by napping followed by more Bridge), both guest and serving staff, except for the Viscount (whose first name is Gilbert), the Princess and Myrna Loy's sexually rapacious Countess Valentine, who, just like Gilbert, has been cut off and essentially grounded for her prodigal ways.  


Oh, and there is also the milquetoast Comte de Savignac, who constantly plights his troth to the polite but uninterested princess.  The Duke and (a smartened up) Maurice meet, and the Duke takes a shine to him, but before Maurice can demand his money, Gilbert takes him aside and warns him against the direct method.  He then introduces Maurice as his friend "Baron Courtelin," and the Duke throws himself into entertaining him (smitten as he is by "Mimi" - so much so that he wakes up the following day singing it) 


while Maurice, who initially resists the deception and feels uncomfortably out of his depth, upon seeing that the Princess (whom we have learned by now became a Princess in her late teens when she married a septuagenarian, who left a widow three years later)  is one of the chateau's inhabitants, happily plays along.  His first test is a hunt, where the (still resistant) princess picks out a horse called "Solitude," so named because he always comes home alone, and Maurice is carried off.  But the Princess eventually finds him, somewhat the worse for wear but cheerful, feeding oats to the stag they've been chasing inside a little hunting lodge.  


Gradually the Princess thaws, but Maurice's fatal mistake (although he's already dodged one bullet as the jealous Savignac worked his way through all the volumes of the French Aristocracy to find that there was no Baron Courtelin - but Gilbert saved the day by insinuating he was really royalty in disguise) is revealing his tailoring skill in redesigning her archaic and prim hunting outfit (another chance, after an earlier doctor's examination (essentially, for boredom), to see MacDonald in her skivvies).  



Having said the previous night that she would love Maurice whoever or whatever he is, she is nonetheless appalled and runs off.  Maurice decides that he can no longer stomach this social milieu and sets off home on the train.  Seeing him go, the Princess realizes she can't live without him and gives chase on her horse (in her natty new hunting outfit, naturally).  Will they be united?  I think you can guess.

Overall, some sparkling repartee, several double entendres, and altogether too many songs (no matter that they're Rogers and Hart compositions) for my liking.

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