Jimmy Durante

  • Frosty the Snowman (1969)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (YouTube Streaming, August 2021) I’m not sure I had ever seen Frosty the Snowman before — although I can certainly recognize the song and be amazed that it’s Jimmy Durante acting both as the film’s narrator and its lead singer. Made for TV, the animation style is simplistic and cheap… but it’s based on some very cute designs, which have certainly helped the result hold up even today. The story is an agreeable piece of nonsense mixing magic, fantasy and comedy — it’s not much, but it works. The Rankin/Bass pair responsible for putting together Frosty the Snowman had a long career producing holiday specials for TV, but few of them have the enduring popularity of this one. No wonder it still pops up every holiday season.

  • This Time for Keeps (1947)

    This Time for Keeps (1947)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2021) While I like the idea of Esther Williams successfully transitioning from an Olympic medallist to a musical film lead, she wasn’t necessarily a compelling performer out of the water. Competent, sure, but not exceptionally beautiful, dramatically powerful or able to sing or dance at another level. But she did embody that idea of the girl-next-door with a special talent, and MGM liked it so much that they invested heavily in the things that made her special, including creating a very specific subgenre, the aqua-musical, around her. This Time for Keeps may not be a particularly good movie, but it’s a great example of the form: Here we have Williams as a swimming professional surrounded by far more talented vocalists as a way to introduce music in the film. This includes Jimmy Durante as an older family friend, who gets an excuse to play around the piano for performances of “A Little Bit This and a Little Bit That” (leading into his classic “Inka Dinka Doo”) and a fun performance piece called “I’m the Guy Who Found the Lost Chord” — his overall performance is more dramatic than in most films, but he lets comedically loose as soon as he approaches a piano. More serious performers include co-star Johnny Johnston, singing in a very conventional fashion, and opera signer Lauritz Melchior — leading to a blend of musical styles that may or may not be too heavy for the kind of melodramatic romance that This Time for Keeps is aiming for. Durante, in particular, seems torn between a desire to be in a dramatic performance and his natural talent as a comedic entertainer. The plot doesn’t do itself any favours by playing heavily on some tired ideas (like familial approval) or under-developing some ideas that don’t quite fit in the framework. But those issues should be familiar to MGM musical fans — the form typically meant mixing plenty of elements in a single film, in the hope that they would come together for broad appeal. It does not work as well here as in other films, probably because of the lesser emphasis on comedy to the benefit of a dubious melodrama. Oh well — Williams is fantastic in the water and likable outside of it, Durante is funny, you get to listen to some opera, and the setting is not without its forested rustic attraction. It could have been worse, but there is definitely better.

  • On an Island with You (1948)

    On an Island with You (1948)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) One of the differences between casual filmgoers and confirmed cinephiles is often the amount of meta-knowledge that the later carry around — including extensive knowledge of actors and their personas. That’s usually an advantage—except when it isn’t, for instance when an all-star cast comes together to produce something decidedly underwhelming. Such is the case with On an Island with You, a minor MGM musical of the late 1940s that brings together a truly interesting cast but doesn’t really do much with them. I mean: Esther Williams, Ricardo Montalban, Cyd Charisse and Jimmy Durante are four strong performers that could have been brought together in a way to play to their strengths. But what they get to do here is, at best, a pale shadow of their potential. With a script that’s only mildly funny or musical, On an Island with You struggles to establish itself as something worth remembering — the look at a film production is intermittently interesting, and doesn’t lead to any highlights. It’s probably important to note that MGM intended the film to be a success — while the film wasn’t part of their flagship Freed unit, it was shot on location in expensive Technicolor and clearly found a good audience during its theatrical run. But it clearly fell into disfavour since then — much better musicals with better roles for its stars followed, and its premise of having its female lead kidnapped by its male lead (assorted with misogynist remarks that would have most audiences up in arms) certainly hasn’t helped the film find new fans in the years since then. As a result, On an Island with You now ranks as a minor MGM musical, barely seen when compared to the better films of the era. Audiences aren’t wrong on this one, so beware if you’re tracking down the filmography of the actors involved. Too much knowledge can create false expectations!

  • Strictly Dynamite (1934)

    Strictly Dynamite (1934)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2021) At barely 71 minutes of a threadbare showbiz plot having to do with creative inspirations and affairs, Strictly Dynamite isn’t a classic for the ages. But it’s enjoyable in the ways 1930s Pre-Code comedy could be, and it does have two terrific assets playing off each other: Jimmy Durante and Lupe Velez (in the first pre-Spitfire phase of her Hollywood career) each bringing their own comic sensibilities to the film. Both are worth watching separately, and if their reunion isn’t quite a multiplier, it does give ample reason to appreciate the result. The plotting runs out of steam just as complications should pick up, but there’s some interest in the details if not the framework — Velez is always watchable, but she gets some remarkable costumes here. The opening performance from the Mills Brothers is also quite enjoyable. None of this will make Strictly Dynamite essential, but it’s a small treat for Durante and Velez fans.

  • Two Girls and a Sailor (1944)

    Two Girls and a Sailor (1944)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, December 2020) A surprising number of WW2 MGM musicals were made primarily to be shown to troops. As such, they were collages of artists in the studio’s stable, with a plot optimized to get as many numbers on-screen as possible without it seeming like a clip show. Two Girls and a Sailor borrows a plot lifted from The Broadway Melody and updates it with elements familiar to viewers of Hollywood Canteen and Stage Door Canteen. Here, we have two sisters headed to Broadway, but falling into all sorts of romantic and professional complications. But the script (nominated for an Academy Award, amazingly enough) is really a backdrop to the musical numbers once the film gets underway. Everyone will have their favourites – for myself, the number one performance remains Virginia O’Brien’s hilarious rendition of “Take it Easy,” taking her unflappable comic singing gimmick to another level by miming nearly falling asleep during her performance. Close seconds include a capture of Jimmy Durante singing his famous “Inka Dinka Doo,” Gracie Allen having fun with “Concerto for index Finger” (it’s exactly what it claims to be) and the superb Lena Horne crooning “Paper Doll” like only she could. Two Girls and a Sailor works better considered as an anthology film of the time’s entertainers coming in for a number or two. It’s fun, albeit best considered in bit pieces rather than a full course.

  • Billy Rose’s Jumbo (1962)

    Billy Rose’s Jumbo (1962)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2020) Musicals had practically gone out of vogue by the early 1960s and genre epicentre MGM was clearly looking to recapture some of their past glory with Billy Rose’s Jumbo, a wide-scale musical set in the colourful world of the circus. Film scholars tell us that the project was in development for decades, starting in the 1930s, before the studio greenlit the film. The result is clearly meant to be expansive—with its succession of numbers taking advantage of circus iconography (Busby Berkeley was involved, in what I believe was his last film project), it’s meant to be a throwback to the glory days of MGM musicals. The result is not bad—especially for the 1960s, where the quality of musicals generally took a nosedive—but it does take a while to build up some interest. Doris Day stars as the daughter of the circus owner, with none other than Jimmy Durante playing her father. (There’s even a recreation of his classic “What elephant?’ gag.)  Both have impressive solo circus numbers, but I’m not smart enough to guess what part of their performances was theirs and what (if anything) was done by a double. Billy Rose’s Jumbo is watchable enough from a twenty-first century perspective, but if anyone tried to guess its production year, they’d probably peg it as a mid-1950s film—which explains why it wasn’t a box-office success and why it did not reignite the MGM musical era. That’s too bad for the filmmakers and studio, but, on the other hand, it has produced a musical for the ages, a bright colourful take on the circus world that you can very well pair with the more serious The Greatest Show on Earth for a double-shot of 1950s circuses.

  • Speak Easily (1932)

    Speak Easily (1932)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2020) The more I see of Buster Keaton’s MGM movies, the more I understand why generations of critics haven’t been so kind to them. It’s not as if he’s not funny—you can reliably count on Keaton to get laughs in a split second (such as when he frantically tries to stuff a coat hanger in a suitcase—a split-second gag in a busy scene, and all the more effective for it), through facial expressions or simple physical gestures in the middle of otherwise ordinary sequences. But there’s a feeling, especially in Speak Easily, that he was being forced into a comedy straightjacket that really constrained what he was capable of doing. Much of the initial lack of sparks from Speak Easily comes from the premise—playing a sheltered academic doesn’t quite get Keaton to the kind of comedy that he understood best, and it takes much of the film to get to the point where we get the classic Keaton anarchistic physical comedy… even if Jimmy Durante is there to help shoulder the comic load. Keaton’s passage to the sound era was easier than most—his voice is pleasant and he could deal with dialogue decently enough, but the spark of silent movie years was gone. It doesn’t help that he seems to be playing a character of an ingrate age—his silent films as a young man are very funny and I really enjoyed his cantankerous persona in the last decade of his career, but here he seems in an awkward stage ill-fitting his persona. I still liked Speak Easily—the look at the tribulations of a travelling troupe of comedians is something that I always find interesting—but it really is a shadow of Keaton’s best work.

  • The Passionate Plumber (1932)

    The Passionate Plumber (1932)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2020) Buster Keaton heads to France in The Passionate Plumber, one of the less-than-impressive movies he did at MGM in the sound film phase of his career. This period is not usually well regarded by film critics, and the step down from his silent era movies is clear. Most of the blame for Keaton’s decline during these years is usually attributed to studio interference—Keaton couldn’t get as much creative freedom working in the MGM system, and his comic setpieces are clearly less ambitious. This being said, you could still see remnants of Keaton’s creative genius even in the MGM films, and The Passionate Plumber does have its shares of flashes.  Taking place in France (but suffering from near-unintelligible French dialogue), the film takes longer than expected to accumulate the comic elements of its climax: Keaton plays an American inventor who runs into another American played by none other than Jimmy Durante, and you can see the film split the comedy between the two: Durante gets the verbal material, whereas Keaton gets the physical—and most of the time, it works: Even in throwaway gestures, Keaton remains supremely gifted in getting laughs out of nothing (including repeatedly slapping people with a glove)… and that’s not even getting into the bigger set-pieces of the film. There’s a really good shot in which he is pursued by a crowd of men going up a staircase, and it somehow resolves by him reversing course and running away downstairs. It’s in those moments that you can still recognize the silent-era Keaton, despite the heavier demands of the inconsequential plot and the lack of opportunity for him to guide the entire film’s comic choreography. I still liked The Passionate Plumber—it’s got its moments despite not being up to Keaton’s silent films. But it’s one of the movies where you most clearly see the missed opportunities in Keaton’s MGM years.

  • The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942)

    The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) Imagine the most erudite, self-absorbed, pompous, know-it-all dinner guest imaginable. Now imagine him breaking a leg and having to stay for a few weeks. You don’t need much more than that to get the comedy play-turned-film The Man Who Came to Dinner going. Of course, it helps if you have good actors to play the parts: Monty Woolley as the titular pain-in-the-neck, Bette Davis as his assistant in an unusual comic/romantic lead, Jimmy Durante in a small but loud role, Ann Sheridan as a bombshell actress lured to break up a romance and Mary Wickes as a nurse who gets a full character arc and the film’s funniest speech as she storms out. Nominally a romantic comedy with numerous subplots but closer to a ludicrous screwball revelling in its absurdity, The Man Who Came to Dinner is a solid hit even decades later. The overlapping subplots mean that there’s quite a lot going on at once, helped along with some fast-paced dialogue. While technically a Christmastime film, it’s funny enough to be watched all year long.

  • The Great Rupert (1950)

    The Great Rupert (1950)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, March 2020) Look at that — The Great Rupert is almost a movie made for me! Jimmy Durante and a pet squirrel rendered to life thanks to George Pal’s special-effects work! Admittedly a family film made to wow Christmastime audiences, The Great Rupert is rather cute and harmless. The plot has a hyper-intelligent squirrel helping out an impoverished family by redistributing a cache of money stashed by a miserly neighbour. Part of the film’s attraction is Pal’s animation work—this was his first film as a producer, right before Destination Moon made him the first Science Fiction/Fantasy film mogul. The stop-motion special effects are charmingly quaint by now, and there’s Durante’s distinctive comic styling (even if subdued and scarce) to bring a touch of further interest to the rest. Now in the public domain, it’s not difficult to find a copy of the film to stream—although getting a high-quality one may require more work. The Great Rupert is not that good of a movie, but it does have a few distinctions going for it—I mean, there aren’t that many movies featuring squirrels as main characters.

  • Hollywood Party (1934)

    Hollywood Party (1934)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2019) I have an increasing fondness for some movies of the early 1930s, a time when sight and sound were available, the repressive Production Code wasn’t yet in effect and Hollywood hadn’t yet ossified in its traditional forms. Anything and everything was possible, and narrative cohesion wasn’t yet the all-ruling norm. That’s when you ended with films such as Hollywood Party, which weren’t much more than theatre variety shows put on film, taking advantage of available celebrities, the power of multiple takes to present fully polished material, and going quickly from one number to another. Hollywood Party does have a framing device as sorts, as a forty-something Jimmy Durante plays a movie star best known for Tarzan parody “Schnarzan the Conqueror.” Throwing a lavish party in the hope of securing a new gimmick for his film series, he ends up hosting comedians and singers in a series of numbers. Some of them are more amazing than others: Laurel and Hardy both drop by to engage in an egg-cellent battle of wits with the luscious Lupe Velez (it’s actually kind of gross). The Three Stooges are hit on the head musically. Mickey Mouse is there to introduce a colour animated musical number about a war between sweets that would be horrifying if it weren’t so oddly charming. The title song is a standout dance number featuring a fantasy version of glitzy telephone operators in form-fitting metallic outfits. Polly Moran and Charles Butterworth play an older couple hilariously eager to have extramarital affairs. Musical number “I’ve had my moments” is slyly suggestive of two promiscuous people coming together. (Pre-Code Hollywood is so cool.)  Durante has visions of his nose on various characters and animals (there’s a lot of phallic imagery even in the cartoon). Lions eventually wreak havoc on set. Hollywood Party is not what I’d call a terrific musical, even by the era’s standards—it’s a collage of various segments from various directors and it’s suitably inconsistent. (The ending is the only logical one that fits.)  But even as a loose collection of musical and comedy sketches (which are invariably more interesting than the rare musical moments), it brings together a bunch of then-known stars, and still offers an intriguing glimpse in early Hollywood. I enjoyed it quite a bit even despite its issues.